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27801	----	digital material generously made available by the Internet Archive CHILDREN OF BORNEO _Uniform with this Volume_ CHILDREN OF INDIA By JANET HARVEY KELMAN CHILDREN OF CHINA By C. CAMPBELL BROWN CHILDREN OF AFRICA By JAMES B. BAIRD CHILDREN OF ARABIA By JOHN CAMERON YOUNG CHILDREN OF JAMAICA By ISABEL C. MACLEAN CHILDREN OF JAPAN By JANET HARVEY KELMAN CHILDREN OF EGYPT By L. CROWTHER CHILDREN OF CEYLON By THOMAS MOSCROP CHILDREN OF PERSIA By MRS NAPIER MALCOLM [Illustration: DYAK CHILDREN] CHILDREN OF BORNEO BY EDWIN H. GOMES, M.A. AUTHOR OF "SEVENTEEN YEARS AMONG THE SEA DYAKS OF BORNEO" [Illustration] WITH EIGHT COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FERRIER I gratefully acknowledge the permission readily granted by Messrs Seeley & Co. Ltd., to make use of much matter that has already been published in my book, "Seventeen Years Among the Sea Dyaks of Borneo," and I would recommend that book to those who wish for more information about Borneo and its inhabitants. EDWIN H. GOMES. TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS. EDINBURGH To LITTLE PAUL CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. The Island of Borneo--Jungles--The Dyaks--Dyak Life in the Old Day 9 II. The Coming of the White Rajah--The Missionaries 13 III. A Dyak Village House 18 IV. Dyak Babies and Children 23 V. Manner of Life--Occupation 28 VI. Head-Hunting 32 VII. Birds and Beasts in Borneo 37 VIII. Some Curious Customs 41 IX. Dyak Feasts 45 X. The Witch Doctor 51 XI. Some Animal Stories 56 XII. Omens and Dreams 63 XIII. Marriages and Burials 68 XIV. A Dyak Legend 73 XV. Dyak Beliefs and Superstitions 87 XVI. Conclusion 90 ILLUSTRATIONS DYAK CHILDREN _Frontispiece_ PAGE A DYAK VILLAGE HOUSE 18 GIRLS WEAVING 30 ON THE WARPATH 36 A DYAK GIRL IN GALA COSTUME 50 IN WEDDING FINERY 68 KILLING BIRDS WITH A BLOW-PIPE 74 A DYAK YOUTH 88 CHILDREN OF BORNEO CHAPTER I THE ISLAND OF BORNEO--JUNGLES--THE DYAKS--DYAK LIFE IN THE OLD DAYS Away down in the Indian Ocean there is a long chain of islands that stretches from Burmah to Australia. One of these is New Guinea which is the largest island in the world (leaving out Australia), and Borneo comes next in size. It is nearly four times as large as England. One quarter of it--the States of Sarawak and British North Borneo--is under British influence. The rest is all claimed by the Dutch, excepting one small State, Brunei, between North Borneo and Sarawak, which is governed by a Malay Sultan, who is a Mahommedan. Sarawak is governed by an English Rajah, or King, Sir Charles Brooke, who succeeded his uncle, Sir James Brooke, in 1868;--British North Borneo is owned by an English Trading Company, called the North Borneo Company, who appoint an Englishman as Governor to rule it for them. If you look at a map of Borneo you will see that the Equator divides the island into two parts, so that Borneo is right in the middle of the Torrid Zone. The climate is therefore tropical, that is to say there is no spring, autumn or winter, but only summer, and it is always much hotter in Borneo than it is in the hottest summer in England. So, if an English boy went to live in Borneo, he would find his English clothes too thick and warm for him to wear there, and he would have to have thin cotton garments. Most of the country of Borneo is covered with thick jungle, where large forest trees grow close to each other, many of them with trunks over six feet in diameter. These trees are often loaded with creepers and ferns, and from the branches, high up overhead, beautiful orchids hang. The natives of Borneo are called Dyaks, and these tropical jungles are their home. Let me try and describe to you what these people are like. They are not black like negroes, but have a brown skin. They are not as tall as Englishmen, but are slightly bigger than the Malays. The Dyak men and women wear very little clothing because of the great heat. The Dyak men wear a waistcloth which is made either of the soft inner bark of a tree, or else of cotton cloth. It is about one yard wide, and from eight to eighteen feet in length, and is twisted round and round their waists and pulled up tight between the thighs, one end hanging down in front and the other behind. Dyak women wear a short petticoat which is drawn tightly round the waist and reaches down to the knees. Round their bodies the women wear hoops of rattan, a kind of cane, and these are threaded through small brass rings placed so close together as to hide the rattan. Both men and women wear necklaces, bracelets, and ear-rings. The men wear their hair long, and they blacken their teeth and often file them to a point, or bore holes in them and insert brass studs into them. Let me tell you something of the kind of life the Dyaks used to live in the old days. You have heard of the head-hunters of Borneo. Seventy years ago the Dyaks were one of the most savage and cruel people in the world. In those days there was constant warfare between the different tribes. The Dyaks therefore lived together in large numbers in long village houses, and round these houses they built strong stockades, as a defence against any sudden attack. In those old days a party of Dyaks would often attack some neighbouring house. Such of the men as were at home would repel the attack as best they could, for defeat meant certain death. The women and children would be crowded together in the verandah of the Dyak house, and the men, armed with swords, spears and shields, would form a circle round them. Large brass gongs would be struck in a peculiar manner, to let the neighbours know of the attack, and to implore their help. The fight would continue till one party was defeated. If any came to the rescue, the attacking party would retreat, pursued by such of the inmates of the house as dared to follow them; but if no help came, the house would be rushed, the men and women cut down, and the children killed or taken captive. The heads of the dead would be cut off amid wild whoops of joy, and carried off in triumph. The Dyaks thought it a grand thing to be able to bring home a human head to hang up as an ornament in their house. The man who succeeded in securing a human head was looked upon as a great warrior, and so very often the young braves would make an expedition against some tribe simply because they wanted to bring home the ghastly trophy of a human head. Not only were the Dyaks head-hunters in those days, but many of them were pirates. There was a great deal of piracy, and it was secretly encouraged by the native rulers, who obtained a share of the spoil, and also by the Malays who knew well how to handle a boat. The Malay fleet consisted of a large number of long war-boats or _prahus_, each about ninety feet long or more, and carrying a brass gun in the bows, the pirates being armed with swords, spears and muskets. Each boat was paddled by from sixty to eighty men. These terrible craft skulked about in the sheltered coves waiting for their prey, and attacked merchant vessels making the passage between China and Singapore. The Malay pirates and their Dyak allies would wreck and destroy every trading vessel they came across, murder most of the crew who offered any resistance, and make slaves of the rest. The Dyaks would cut off the heads of those who were slain, smoke them over the fire to dry them, and then take them home to treasure as valued possessions. If you visit some of the Dyak houses to-day, you will see some of these human heads, taken in piratical raids in old days, hanging in bunches over the fireplaces. The whole country in those old days was in a great state of disorder. The Dyaks were constantly at war, tribe against tribe, and no Dyak village was safe from sudden attack. Many human lives were sacrificed because the Dyaks wished, not only to obtain booty, but to satisfy their lust for blood, and indulge in their favourite pursuit of head-hunting, and gain glory for themselves by bringing home human heads to decorate their houses with. CHAPTER II THE COMING OF THE WHITE RAJAH--THE MISSIONARIES I have told you, in the last chapter, what kind of people the Dyaks were, and how in the old days a great deal of their time was spent in piracy and in warfare against neighbouring tribes. Now I want to tell you of the coming of the White Rajah--James Brooke--to Borneo, and what he did there. I think every English boy and girl should know the remarkable and romantic story of how an Englishman came to be a King in Borneo, and to rule over the part of it called Sarawak. James Brooke was born on April 29, 1803. His father was a member of the Civil Service of the East India Company, and spent a great many years in India. He followed his father's example, and entered the Company's service, and was sent out to India in 1825. Not long after his arrival, he was put in command of a regiment of soldiers, and ordered to Burmah, where he took part in the Burmese war. He was badly wounded, and had to return to England on leave. For over four years his health prevented him from rejoining his regiment, and when at last he started, the voyage took such a long time, owing to a shipwreck and other misfortunes, that he found on his arrival that his furlough had expired, and that his post had been given to someone else. He quitted the service in 1830. In that same year he made a voyage to China and was struck by the natural beauty and fertility of the islands of the Indian Archipelago, and he felt sad when he thought of the tribes who inhabited these beautiful islands. They were continually at war with one another, and many of them were pirates. James Brooke conceived the grand idea of rescuing these races from barbarism, and of putting down piracy in the Eastern Archipelago. On the death of his father he inherited a large sum of money, and found himself in a position to carry out his schemes. He bought and equipped a yacht, the _Royalist_, and for three years he cruised about, chiefly in the Mediterranean, training his crew of twenty men for the hard work that lay before them. On October 27, 1838 he sailed from the Thames on his great adventure, travelled slowly on the long journey round the Cape of Good Hope, and reached Singapore in 1839. It took the _Royalist_ five months to reach Singapore, but that was in the days before the Suez Canal was made. The journey from England to Singapore can be made in a steam-ship at the present time in less than a month. On arriving at Singapore, James Brooke met a shipwrecked crew who had lately come from Borneo. They said that they had been kindly treated by Muda Hassim--a native Rajah in Borneo--and they asked Mr James Brooke to take presents and letters of thanks to him, if he should be going thither in his yacht. Mr Brooke had not decided which of the many islands of the Eastern Archipelago he would visit, and he was as ready to go to Borneo as to any other; so, setting sail, he made his way up the Sarawak river, and anchored off Kuching, the capital, on August 15, 1839. The country was nominally under the rule of the Sultan of Brunei, but his uncle, Rajah Muda Hassim, was then the greatest power in the island. As he was favourable to English strangers, Mr Brooke paid him a visit and was most kindly received. The Rajah was at this time engaged in war with several fierce Dyak tribes who had revolted against the Sultan, but his efforts to subdue them were vain. He told Mr James Brooke his troubles, and begged him to help him to put down the insurgents, and implored him not to leave him a prey to his enemies. James Brooke consented to help him, and began the difficult task of restoring peace in the country. With his help the rebellion, which the Malay forces were too feeble to subdue, was brought to an end. Brooke led the crew of his yacht, and some Malay followers against the insurgents, and defeated them. Muda Hassim was very pleased to see that order was restored in the country, and he conferred on James Brooke the title of Rajah of Sarawak. It was some little time before the Sultan of Brunei would consent to confirm the title, but in 1841 the Government of Sarawak and its dependencies was formally made over to James Brooke, and he became the first English Rajah of Sarawak. He ruled till 1868, when he died and was succeeded by his nephew, Charles Johnson Brooke, who is ruling Sarawak to-day. When James Brooke became king, he set to work to improve the condition of his subjects. He saw clearly that the development of commerce was the best means of civilizing the natives, and, in order to do this, it was necessary to put down piracy, which not only appealed to the worst instincts of the Dyaks, but was a standing danger to European and native traders in those seas. In the suppression of piracy he found a vigorous ally in Captain (afterwards Admiral) Keppel, who, in command of H.M.S. _Dido_, was summoned from the China Station in 1843 for this purpose. The pirates were attacked in their strongholds by Captain Keppel. They fought desperately, but could not withstand the superior forces of their enemies. Many of them were killed, and many escaped and fled into the jungle. In this way James Brooke put an end to Dyak piracy. The practice of head-hunting was also dealt with by James Brooke. He declared it to be a crime. As soon as he heard that a party had gone on the war-path, a force was immediately despatched by Government to endeavour to cut them off and to fine them heavily. In the event of their having secured human heads, these had to be given up, and the Dyaks were asked to pay a large fine. Some refused to follow the directions of the Government. These were declared enemies, and were attacked and had their houses burnt down. This course he steadily pursued for years, and by his rigorous treatment of head-hunting parties, James Brooke dealt the death-blow to this horrible national custom. After his strenuous life in Sarawak, James Brooke paid a visit to England in 1847, when many honours were showered on him. He was graciously received at Windsor by Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort. The British Government recognizing the work he had done, appointed him Governor of Labuan, and made him a K.C.B. The putting down of piracy, and the suppressing of the terrible custom of head-hunting among the Dyaks, were the first steps that Sir James Brooke took in civilizing his subjects. But he knew that as long as the Dyaks held to their old superstitious beliefs in evil spirits, there would always be a danger of their returning to their evil ways. So he began to think of establishing a Christian Mission in Sarawak. He knew that it was not enough to put down evil customs: if the Dyaks were to improve, they must have the true Faith planted in their hearts. When Sir James Brooke was in England in 1847, he appealed to the two Universities of Oxford and Cambridge and also to the two great Missionary Societies--the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts, and the Church Missionary Society--to help him, but none of them were able to do so as they had not the funds. So a new Association, chiefly supported by his friends, was started, called the "Borneo Church Mission." This Association sent out a few missionaries, the first of whom was the Rev. F. T. McDougall, who was consecrated the first Bishop of Labuan and Sarawak in 1855. After a few years the Borneo Church Mission flagged for lack of support, and in 1854 the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts came to the rescue, and took up the work, and has ever since been responsible for the Mission Work in Borneo. My father, the Rev. W. H. Gomes, B.D., worked under Bishop McDougall as a missionary among the Dyaks of Lundu from 1852 to 1867, and I myself have worked, under Bishop Hose, as a missionary in Sarawak for seventeen years. When McDougall arrived at Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, in 1848, the Rajah welcomed him kindly, and gave him a large piece of ground. On this site were built a church, a school house, and a house for the Bishop to live in. Rajah Brooke was anxious that the Dyaks, who lived far from the town and had their home in the jungles, should also be taught. Both he and Bishop McDougall were sorry to think of their heathen state, and they wanted to save them from becoming converts to Mohammedanism. So they sent for more helpers from England, and these missionaries went and lived among the Dyaks in the jungles. They built their houses, churches and schools at distant up-country stations, and they won the love and esteem of the Dyaks, who came to them, not only to learn to read and write, but to listen to the wonderful "Old, Old Story" the missionaries had to tell of a God, Who loved them, and came to earth and died for them, and rose from the dead, and ascended up to Heaven, and Who wanted the whole world to learn of His love and become His faithful followers. CHAPTER III A DYAK VILLAGE HOUSE Among the Dyaks a large number of families live together under one roof. A small village would consist probably of one long house, in which twenty or thirty or more families live. This village house is built on posts of hard wood, which raise the floor from six to twelve feet above the ground. It is wise of them to build their houses in this way, because the ground, even on the hills, is very damp in the rainy season, and, besides this, there are snakes and scorpions and centipedes crawling about, which would trouble the Dyaks if their houses were built on the ground. Another reason for building their houses in this way is that if they live together in large numbers, high above the ground, it is not easy for their enemies to attack and overcome them. [Illustration: A DYAK VILLAGE HOUSE] The entrance to this house is made by a notched trunk or log, which serves as a ladder; one is fixed at each end of the house. The length of the building varies according to the number of families inhabiting it, but as the rooms occupied by the different families are built on the same plan, the whole presents a uniform and regular appearance. The long Dyak house is built in a straight line, and the walls and roof are thatched with dried palm leaves. There is a long uncovered verandah where the paddy[1] is put out to be dried by the sun; afterwards it is pounded to get rid of its husk, and so converted into rice. Here, also, the clothes and a variety of other things are hung out to dry. The flooring of this part of the house is generally made of laths of hard wood, so as to stand exposure to the weather. The flooring of the rest of the house is made of split palm or bamboo tied down with rattan or cane. [Footnote 1: Paddy--rice in the husk.] Next to the long uncovered verandah comes the long open hall, or covered verandah, which stretches without any partition along the whole length of the house. It is a cool and pleasant place, and is much frequented by men and women for conversation and indoor pursuits. Here the women do their work--the weaving of cloth, or the plaiting of mats. Here, too, the men chop up the firewood used for cooking their food, and even make boats, if not of too great a size. This long hall is a public place open to all comers, and used as a road by travellers, who climb up the ladder at one end, walk through the whole length of the house, and go down the ladder at the other end. The floor is carpeted with thick and heavy mats made of cane, interlaced with narrow strips of beaten bark. Over these are spread other mats of finer texture, when necessary, for visitors to sit upon, for you must understand the Dyaks do not use chairs or forms, but always sit on the floor. On one side of this long public hall is a row of doors. Each of these leads into a separate room, which is occupied by a family. This room serves several purposes. It serves as a kitchen, because in one corner there is a fireplace where the food is cooked. It also serves as a dining-room, because when the meal is ready, mats are spread here, and the inmates squat on the floor to eat their meal. It also serves as a bedroom, and at night the mats for sleeping are spread out, and here the inmates sleep. Round three sides of the room--the fourth side being occupied by the fireplace--are ranged the treasured valuables of the Dyaks--old earthen jars, some of which are of great value, and brass gongs and guns. Their cups and plates are hung up in rows flat against the wall. The flooring of this room is the same as that of the public hall outside, and made of split palm or bamboo tied down with cane. The floor is swept after a fashion, the refuse falling through the flooring to the ground underneath. The room is stuffy and not such a pleasant place as the open hall outside. The pigs and poultry occupy the waste space under the house. Each family has its own portion of the long public hall outside, and the length of this corresponds to the breadth of the room occupied by the family, and in each of these portions there is a small fireplace which consists of a slab of stone, at which the men warm themselves when they get up, as they usually do, in the chill of the early morning before the sun has risen. Over this fireplace in the open hall hangs the most valuable ornament in the eyes of the Dyak, the bunch of human heads. These are the heads obtained when on the war-path by various members of the family--dead and living--and handed down from father to son as the most precious heirlooms--more precious, indeed, than the ancient jars which the Dyaks prize so highly. The posts in this public part of the Dyak village house are often adorned with the horns of deer and the tusks of wild boar. The empty sheaths of swords are hung from these horns or from wooden hooks, while the naked blades are placed in racks overhead. If you can imagine a long house built several feet above the ground on posts, with walls and roof of palm leaf thatch, and this house divided into two parts, one a large public hall common to all the inmates, and the other divided into separate rooms each occupied by a different family, then you have some idea of the kind of house in which the Dyaks live. The women are earlier risers than the men, and retire to bed earlier. They generally go to the river as soon as they wake, carrying their water-gourds with them. They have a bath, fill their gourds with water, and return to the house to cook the morning meal. The principal article of food is rice, which is cooked in brass or iron pots. With their rice they eat either vegetables or fish. Sometimes they have the flesh of wild pig or deer, but that is not usual. Nearly every animal is eaten by the Dyaks; fish, venison and pork are eaten by all, and many tribes eat monkeys, snakes and even crocodiles. A favourite method of cooking is to put the proper quantity of fish or vegetables or meat, with sufficient water and a little salt, into a newly-cut bamboo. The mouth is then stopped up with leaves, and the bamboo is placed over the fire, resting on a stone at an angle of forty-five degrees or more. By the time the bamboo is thoroughly charred, the contents are sufficiently cooked, and it is taken from the fire and emptied out into a plate. Sometimes rice is cooked in bamboos, and when it is ready to be eaten, the bamboo is split and torn off in strips, and the rice is found well cooked inside--a stiff mass moulded in the form of the bamboo. When the food is ready and put out in plates, the men are asked to come into the room and eat. Sometimes the women eat with the men; but if there are too many to eat comfortably at one sitting, the men have their meal first, and the women eat with the children after the men have done. The Dyaks all sit on the floor, which also serves as their table. They have their rice on plates, or sometimes upon clean leaves. They eat with their fingers, dipping the hand when necessary into the common stock of salt or common dish of meat or vegetables. They eat with the right hand, compressing the rice into portions of convenient size. When the meal is over, they wash the crockery and put it away. The mats are swept and taken up, and the refuse thrown through the open floor for the pigs and poultry under the house to eat. The floor of the Dyak house is clean enough because all the dirt falls through on to the ground underneath; consequently this is covered with rubbish, and perpetually wet from the water thrown down from the floor above, and, being the favourite resort of the pigs and fowls of the long Dyak house, often smells horribly. CHAPTER IV DYAK BABIES AND CHILDREN A Dyak baby is much like any other baby in being a little helpless human thing that spends most of his time in sleeping and feeding, worrying its mother with its constant wants, but yet loved greatly by her, and as it grows up, making its parents proud of it, and amusing them by its cunning little ways. Its colour varies from a light brown with a tinge of yellow to a dark chocolate, and it wears no clothing at all until it is five or six years old. Until a civilised government interfered to prevent such cruel murders, there used to be a custom among the Dyaks that if the mother died when her child was born, the poor babe should pay the penalty and be buried with the mother. The reasons given for this cruel act was that the child was the cause of the mother's death, and that there was no one to nurse and care for it. No woman would dare to nurse such an orphan, lest it should bring misfortune upon her own children. Therefore the poor child was often placed alive in the coffin with the dead mother, and both were buried together. That was the old cruel Dyak custom, but I am glad to say it is a long time since it has been carried out. I have myself known many cases among the Dyaks where the mother has died, and the orphan has been adopted and brought up by some friend or relative. When a child is born a fowl is waved over it as a kind of offering to the gods and spirits. This fowl is then killed, cooked, and eaten by the parents, and any friends that may be present. During the first three days the child receives its bath in a wooden vessel in the house, but on the fourth day it is taken to the river. Some curious ceremonies attend its first bath in the river. An old man of some standing, who has been successful in his undertakings, is asked to bathe the child. He wades into the river holding the child in his arms. A fowl is killed on the bank, a wing is cut off, and if the child be a boy this wing is stuck upon a spear, and if a girl it is fixed to the slip of wood used to pass between the threads in weaving, and this is fixed on the bank, and the blood allowed to drop into the stream, as an offering to propitiate the spirits supposed to inhabit the waters, and to insure that, at any rate, no accident by water shall happen to the child. The remainder of the fowl is taken back to the house and cooked and eaten. At some period after the child's birth--it may be within a few weeks or it may be deferred for years--a ceremony is gone through in which the gods and spirits are invoked to grant the child health and wealth and success in all his undertakings. This ceremony is generally postponed for some years if the parents are poor, in order to enable them to save a little to pay for the entertainment of their friends and relations on the occasion. Where the parents are better off, the ceremony is held a few weeks after the birth of the child. Several witch doctors are asked to take part in this performance. A portion of the long open hall of the Dyak house is screened off by large hand-woven Dyak sheets, and within these the mother sits with the child in her arms. The witch doctors walk round and round singing an incantation. Generally there is a leader who sings by himself for a few minutes, then he pauses, and turns round to his followers, and they all sing in chorus. Then the leader sings by himself again, and so on. They all walk round, first turning their feet to the right, and stamping on the floor, then pausing a moment, and turning their feet to the left, still stamping. This ceremony begins in the evening and goes on for several hours. When it is over, food is brought out to the assembled guests, and all partake of the provided feast. The proceedings differ very much according to the wealth and standing of the parents. Among the poor, it is a very quiet affair--two or three witch doctors attend, and only the near relatives of the child are present. On the other hand, among those who are rich, this ceremony is made the occasion of holding a great feast, and inviting people from all parts to attend. Pigs and fowls are killed for food. Jars of _tuak_ (a spirit obtained from rice) are brought forth for the guests to drink, and all are invited to rejoice with the parents. The naming of the child is not made the occasion for any ceremonies, and it is not unusual to meet children of seven or eight years old who have not yet received a name. They are known by some pet name, or are called _endun_ (little girl) or _igat_ or _anggat_ (little boy). Even when a name is given to a child, it is often changed for some reason or other. The Dyaks have a great objection to uttering the name of a dead person, so, if the namesake of a child dies, at once a new name is chosen. Again, if the child be liable to frequent attacks of illness, it is no uncommon thing for the parents to change the name two or three times in the course of a year. The reason for this is that all sickness and death are supposed to be caused by evil spirits, who are put off the scent by this means. When they come to take the child's soul away, they do not hear the old name uttered any more, and so they conclude he no longer exists, and return without him! Dyak children do not have many toys. Little girls are sometimes seen with rudely-carved wooden dolls, and little boys play with models of boats. The boys are fond of spinning tops, which they make for themselves. The Dyaks are very fond of children, and treat them very kindly. They rarely if ever punish them. The children have a great deal of liberty, but are not often unruly, disobedient or disrespectful. They are generally very fond of their parents, and when they grow older, do as they are told from a desire to please them. Dyak children have very soon to make themselves useful. A little boy of ten or eleven accompanies his father to his work and helps him as best he can. A boy is very proud when he has succeeded in making his first dug-out canoe, which he sometimes does at fifteen. I have often, when on a visit to a Dyak village, been asked by some boy to see the first boat he has made, and I have been shown, not a toy boat, but a canoe in which three men could sit comfortably. The girls like to help their mothers and learn to become useful at an early age, and to do the different kinds of work a woman is expected to do. When a woman is plaiting a mat of split cane, or of reeds, she often gives the short ends, which she has cut off, to her little girl, who sits by her and tries to make a little mat with them. I have often seen little girls of ten and eleven being taught by their mothers how to weave cloth. It is sad to think of these Dyak children in Borneo living in constant fear of evil spirits, and not knowing anything about God. The missionaries try to teach the little ones, and at each up-country Mission Station there is a small school for Dyak boys. Here they are taught about God, and are cut away from all the superstitious customs which they would constantly see in their Dyak homes. Many of these boys, after being at school for a few years, return to their own people, taking back with them the good lessons they have learnt, and in many cases influencing their friends and relatives for good, and leading some of them to become Christians. A few of these schoolboys are sent on to the larger school at the capital to be taught English. These are the boys who, one hopes, will in after years become teachers and catechists among their own people. There are so few Dyak books that it is necessary that a Dyak teacher should learn English in order to be able to educate himself by reading English books. CHAPTER V MANNER OF LIFE--OCCUPATION The Dyaks are industrious and hard-working, and in the busy times of paddy[2] planting they work from early in the morning till dusk, only stopping for a meal at midday. The division of labour between the men and the women is a very reasonable one, and the women do their fair share of work. The men do the timber-felling, wood-cutting, clearing the land, house and boat building, and the heavier work generally. The women help in the lighter part of the farm work, husk and pound the rice they eat, cook, weave, make mats and baskets, fetch the water for their daily use from the well or river, and attend to the children. With regard to paddy[2] planting on the hills, the work is divided between the men and women in the following manner. The men cut down the jungle where the paddy is to be planted. When the timber and shrubs have been burnt, the men and women plant the grain. The roots and stumps of trees are left in the ground. The men walk in front with a long heavy staff in the right hand of each, and make holes in the ground, about a foot apart. The women walk behind them and throw a few grains of seed in each hole. [Footnote 2: Paddy--rice in the husk.] When the paddy has grown a little, the ground has to be carefully weeded; this work is done by the women. When the crop is ripe, both men and women do the reaping. They walk between the rows of standing grain, and with a sharp, oddly-shaped little knife, they cut off the heads one by one, and place them in their baskets which are tied to their waists in front of them. The carrying home of the paddy thus reaped is mostly done by the men, who can carry very heavy loads on their back, though the women help in this work to some extent. The next thing is to separate the grain from the little tiny stems to which it is still attached. This is done by the men. The grain is placed on a large square sieve of rattan or cane, fixed between four posts in the verandah of the Dyak house, and the men tread on it and press it through the sieve. The paddy that falls through is taken and stored in the loft in large round bins made of bark. When rice is wanted for food, the paddy is dried in the sun, and then pounded by the women in wooden mortars with pestles five feet long. As a rule two or three women each use their pestles at one mortar, which is cut out of the trunk of a tree. I have seen as many as six girls use their pestles in quick succession at one mortar. In this way the grain is freed from husk, and is made ready for food. The Dyak marries at an early age, and lives in a long village house with many other families, and does his best to get as much paddy as possible each year. He rises on work-days early in the morning, partakes of his frugal meal of rice and salt, or rice and fish, varied by a piece of wild pork or venison, which he may have received as a gift or bought from some hunting friend. His wife wraps up his midday meal for him in the spathe of a Pinang palm, and he goes to his work of cutting down the jungle for planting, returning home in the evening. There are days when he does not go to work on his paddy farm, but spends his time in getting firewood, or mending things in his room, or in sitting about in the common verandah chatting with his friends. When the paddy is planted and has grown a little, and the time of weeding draws near, the family remove to the little hut put up in the paddy farm. When the weeding is done, the family return to the long Dyak house and remain there for about two months. Then they go back to their hut to watch the ripening paddy, and guard it against attacks of birds and beasts. Paddy planting is the chief occupation of every Dyak, but he has plenty of time for other things, and his life is not quite so monotonous as may be supposed. The actual work of paddy planting, and everything connected with it, such as the building of farm huts, and the getting ready of farming implements, takes up seven or perhaps eight months of the year. The Dyak has therefore a certain amount of time during which he can visit his friends, make boats, or earn a little extra money by hunting for such jungle produce as canes, gutta, or camphor. [Illustration: GIRLS WEAVING] The ordinary boats of the Dyaks are cut out of a single log. Some of my schoolboys, under the guidance of the native schoolmaster, once made a small canoe for their own use, so I saw the whole process. A tree having a long straight stem was felled, and the desired length of trunk cut off. The outside was then shaped to take the desired form of the canoe. Then the inside was hollowed out. The next thing to do was to widen the inside of this canoe. This was done by filling the boat with water and making a fire under it, and by fastening large stone weights on each side. When the shell had been sufficiently opened out, thwarts were placed inside, about two feet from each other, to prevent the boat getting out of shape when the wood dried. The stem and stern of the canoe are alike, both being curved and pointed, and rising out of the water. This is the usual type of Dyak boat, and the method of making a smaller or larger canoe is exactly the same. Even a war-boat, ninety feet long, is made from the trunk of one tree. In the longer boats planks or gunwales are stitched on the sides, and the seams are caulked, so as to render the boat water-tight. The only tool used for making a Dyak boat of this kind is the Dyak axe or adze (_bliong_). This is a most excellent tool, and is forged of European steel, which they procure in bars. In shape it is like a small spade, about two and a half inches wide, with a square shank. This is set in a thin handle of hard wood, at the end of which there is a woven pocket of cane to receive it. The lower end of this handle has a piece of light wood fixed to it to form a firm grip for the hand. The _bliong_ can be fixed in the handle at any angle, and is therefore used as an axe or adze. With it the Dyaks can cut down a great forest tree in a very short time, and it is used for cutting planks and doing their carpentering work. While the work of the men is to build houses and to make boats, the work of the women is to weave cloth and make mats and baskets. The women plant their own cotton, beat it out with small sticks, and by means of a spinning-wheel make their own yarn. This yarn is not so fine as that of English manufacture, but it is stronger and keeps its colour well. At the present time, however, a great deal of the cloth woven by the Dyaks is done with yarn of English make. The warp is arranged in the loom, and the weaver sits on the floor and uses her hands and feet, the latter working the treadles. The threads of the woof are then passed backwards and forwards. The work is very slow, and Dyak weaving very tedious. They use vegetable dyes, and the women blend the colours in a pleasing manner, though there is a great sameness in the designs. The cloth they make is particularly strong and serviceable. Mats are made either with split cane or from the outer bark of reeds. The women are very clever at plaiting, and some of their mats are very fine in texture. They also make baskets of different shapes and sizes, some of which have coloured designs worked into them. CHAPTER VI HEAD-HUNTING The custom of head-hunting at one time prevailed to a great extent among the Dyaks. In the old days no Dyak chief of any standing could be married unless he had been successful in obtaining the head of an enemy. For this reason it was usual to make an expedition into the enemy's country before the marriage feast of any great chief. The head brought home need not be that of a man; the head of a woman or child would serve the purpose quite as well. There were certain ancient customs which necessitated the possession of a human head. When any person died, the relatives went into mourning. They put away their ornaments and finery, and these were tied together in bundles. At the feast in honour of the dead, these bundles were all undone, and the men and women were allowed to wear their ornaments again. Some man cut the string with which they were tied up, but before he could do such a thing, it was necessary that a human head be brought into the house, and it was usual for the man who had obtained that head to take a leading part in the ceremonies and cut open the bundles. It was also customary to make an offering of a fresh human head to the spirits when a new village house was to be built. But these customs are not now universally observed. At the feast in honour of the dead, the headman of the house generally cuts open the bundles of finery that have been put away, and at the building of a new house, the killing of a pig is supposed to satisfy the demands of the spirits. It is presumed that a man, who has secured a human head, must necessarily be brave. But this need not be the case at all, for, as I have already mentioned, the head may be that of a woman or child. Again, the heads need not be obtained in open warfare. Very often the head of an enemy is taken while he is asleep. Nor is it necessary that a man kill his victim alone with his own hand. Frequently many of his friends help him to kill some unfortunate man whom they have waylaid. In the old days an expedition, that one tribe intended to take against another, was announced at one of their feasts, when the village was thronged with guests from far and near. Some great chief would advance his reason for the desired attack. Either some of his people had been slain and revenge was called for, or else they required a human head to enable them to put off their mourning. Or perhaps they wished to build a new house, and required some human heads to offer to the spirits of the earth. Or, possibly, he himself wished to marry, and wanted a head as a proof of his valour in the eyes of his lady-love. Among the crowd who listened, there would be many who wished to follow him on the war-path. The women would urge their husbands, or lovers, or brothers to go. The chief would choose a certain number to form a council of war. These would discuss the matter, and it would be decided when the party was to start for the enemy's country, and how much food each man was to take with him. Then the War Spear would be sent round to the neighbouring villages, to let all know of the expedition. A man would bring the spear to a long Dyak village house, deliver his message, and return, leaving the spear to be carried on by one of the men in that house to the next village, and so on. At once the men in that house would get their war-boats ready. They would furbish up their arms, and sharpen their weapons, and decorate their helmets and war-jackets. The costume a Dyak wears when going on the war-path, consists of a basket-work cap, decorated with feathers, and sometimes with human hair, a sleeveless skin or cotton jacket, and the usual Dyak costume of the waistcloth. For weapons, he has a sword. This may be of foreign or of their own make. It is a dangerous weapon at close quarters. He also has a spear consisting of a long wooden shaft of some hard wood with a steel spear-head, which is tied on firmly to the shaft with cane. For defensive purposes the Dyak has a large wooden shield, about three feet long, which, with its handle, is hollowed out of a single block of wood. It is held in the left hand, well advanced before the body, and meant not so much to receive the spear-point, as to divert it by a twist of the hand. It is generally painted in bright colours, and often decorated with human hair. Sometimes the shaft of the spear is a _sumpit_ or blow-pipe. This is a small wooden tube about eight feet long. The smoothness and straightness of the bore is remarkable. The hole is drilled with an iron rod, one end of which is chisel-pointed, through a log of hard wood, which is afterwards pared down and rounded till it is about an inch in diameter. The dart used with the _sumpit_ is usually made of a thin splinter of the _nibong_ palm, stuck into a round piece of very light wood, so as to afford a surface for the breath to act upon. These darts are sharpened to a fine point, and are carried in neatly-carved bamboo quivers. The poison for these darts is obtained from the _ipoh_ tree (upas). Though the wound made by the dart is very slight, yet so potent and deadly is the poison, that death follows in a very short time. The Dyaks do not attack a village if their approach has been discovered, and the people are on the defensive. Under these circumstances, they content themselves with cutting off stragglers, or hide near the water-side for people who are going to bathe, or on their way to examine their fish-traps. These they attack unawares, cut down, take their heads, and escape into the jungle before the alarm is given. When fighting, the Dyak warriors gather round their chiefs and defend them bravely. Relatives often cluster together for mutual help. When one of them is killed, rather than allow the enemy to take his head, they decapitate him themselves, and bring his head back. On the return from a war expedition, if the people of any particular boat have secured a human head, word is sent up to the Dyak village house, as soon as the boat reaches the landing-stage. The men remain in the boat, and wait there, till all the women-folk come to it dressed in their best. The excitement is great, and there are continual shouts of triumph as the women, singing a monotonous chant, surround the hero who has killed the enemy and lead him to the house. He is seated in a place of honour, the head is put on a brass tray before him, and all crowd round him to hear his account of the battle, and how he succeeded in killing one of his foes. [Illustration: ON THE WARPATH] The Dyaks value very highly the heads taken in war. They hang them over the fireplaces in the long open verandahs of their houses, they make offerings to them, and they believe that the souls of those whom they have slain will be their slaves in the other world. I look upon it as a remarkable fact worthy of record, that two great Dyak chiefs, who became Christians--one the Orang Kaya of Padih, Saribas, and the other, Tarang of Krian--should have taken such a decided step as to refuse to treasure their enemies' heads any more. They were both men of position, with a great reputation for bravery. Two of the grandchildren of the Orang Kaya were at my school at Temudok for some time. A son of Tarang, Tujoh by name, worked as my Catechist in Krian for several years. While so many Dyak Christians are most unwilling to give up all their old heathen customs, these two Christian Dyak chiefs happily took up the right attitude, in such an important matter in the eyes of the Dyaks as head-hunting. CHAPTER VII BIRDS AND BEASTS IN BORNEO The animal life in Borneo is akin to that of Sumatra and Java, but with certain differences. Borneo is free from tigers, and this is fortunate, for travelling through the jungles would be dangerous indeed if tigers were likely to be encountered. The only wild animals to be found are the small and comparatively harmless tree-tiger, and the little brown honey-bear, but neither of these are much feared. Wild boars abound, but these never attack travellers, and are not a source of danger. There are many varieties of snakes, varying in size from the python downwards. The python is a dangerous animal, and can kill a deer or a wild pig, and swallow it whole. After a meal of that kind, a python is unable to move for several days. Monkeys of various kinds abound, and are often seen among the branches, sitting, hanging by hands or tails, leaping, grimacing, jabbering. There is the great man-like ape--the _orang-utan_, or _maias_ as he is called by the Dyaks. As a rule this animal does not exceed the height of four feet two inches, though there are stories told of its attaining a far greater size. The height, however, gives a poor idea of the animal's bulk and strength. The body is as large as that of an average man, but the legs are extremely short. Its arms are of great length, and measure over seven feet in spread. The whole body is covered with long red hair. It rarely attacks man, but when provoked is very ferocious, and as its strength is very great, it is a foe not to be despised. Ferocious crocodiles abound in the rivers, but the number of human lives taken by them is not great. For the most part crocodiles live upon the animals and fish they catch. For superstitious reasons, the Dyaks do not interfere with the crocodile until he has shown some sign of his man-eating propensity. If the crocodile will live at peace with him, the Dyak has no wish to start a quarrel. If, however, the crocodile breaks the truce and kills someone, then the Dyaks set to work to kill the culprit, and keep on catching and killing crocodiles until they find him. The Dyaks generally wear brass ornaments, and by cutting open a dead crocodile, they can easily find out if he is the creature they wish to punish. Sometimes as many as ten crocodiles are killed before they manage to destroy the animal they want. Wild pig and deer are to be found in the jungles, and these are often hunted by the Dyaks. The Dyaks subsist more on a vegetable and fish diet than on an animal diet, so hunting with them is only an occasional pursuit. A Dyak village swarms with dogs, but most of these are of no use for the chase, and only prowl about the premises, and consume the refuse food. But some of their dogs, though small in size, are plucky little animals, and will attack a boar three or four times their size. Such dogs are of great value to the few Dyaks in each village who care for hunting. When the dogs are good and know their work, native hunting is not difficult. The hunter loiters about, and the dogs beat the jungle for themselves, and when they have found a scent, give tongue, and soon run the animal to bay. The hunter knows this by their peculiar bark, hurries to the spot and spears the game. The boars are sometimes very dangerous when wounded, and turn furiously on the hunter, and unless he is nimble and climbs up some tree near at hand, or is assisted by his dogs, he might fare ill in spite of his sword and spear. The dogs are very useful, and by attacking the hind legs of the animal keep making him turn round. Deer are more easily run down than pigs, because they have not the strength to go any great distance, especially in the hot weather. A favourite way of catching deer is to send a man to follow the spoor of a deer, and to find out where it lies to rest during the heat of the day. Then large nets, made of fine cane, are hung around, and the deer is driven into these. The hunting party divide into two parties, some to watch the net, the others, accompanied by a large crowd of women and children, drive the deer towards it by yelling and shouting. The startled deer springs from its covert and makes towards the forest, and gets entangled in the meshes of the net. Before it can extricate itself, it is killed by the watchers. Lizards of all sizes abound. There is a small lizard which is seen on the walls and ceilings as soon as the lamps are lit. It eats up any mosquitoes or moths that it can find. What happens to this animal in the daytime, I do not know, but as soon as the lamps are lit several of them always make their appearance. There is a large lizard, about a foot long, found sometimes in the Dyak houses. It makes a loud uncanny sound at night, and cries "_Gok-ko_!" at intervals. This animal is named after its cry, and is called by the Dyaks "_Gok-ko_." The natives consider that these lizards bring good luck, and portend good harvests, so they never kill them. Many other kinds of lizards are found, but the most remarkable is the chameleon, which is often seen on the branches of trees. This animal can change its colour. When in the sun, it is generally a bright green, in the shade, it is brown in colour, and when dead, its body becomes quite black. These are the principal colours of the animal, but often its body is a combination of these colours, and it looks very beautiful. Of birds there are to be found many varieties of wood-pigeon, as well as parrots of different kinds, which fly about in large flocks. There are also tiny humming-birds with feathers of a bright metallic hue. These look very pretty as they hover over flowers. Many other birds are also found in the jungles of Borneo. Some of these are looked upon by the Dyaks as the agents of the gods and spirits, and they pay great heed to their cries. The Dyaks know nothing of the God of Love who cares for His children, and has sent His Son Jesus Christ to earth to tell us how to live, and so they listen to the voices of these omen birds, and think that by doing so, they can find out the will of the higher powers. CHAPTER VIII SOME CURIOUS CUSTOMS There are many curious customs to be met with among the Dyaks of Borneo. They have the trial by ordeal, by diving, in which two men keep their heads under water as long as they can. This is their way of referring disputed questions to supernatural decision. They believe that the gods are sure to help the innocent, and punish the guilty. When there is a dispute between two parties, in which it is impossible to obtain reliable evidence, or where one of the parties is not satisfied with the decision of the headman of the Dyak house, this ordeal is often resorted to. Several preliminary meetings are held by the representatives of both parties to decide the time, and the place of the match. It is also decided what property each party should stake. This has to be paid by the loser to the victor. For several days and nights before the contest, they gather their friends together; they make offerings and sing incantations to the spirits, and beg of them to support their just cause, and help their representative to win. Each party chooses a champion. There are many professional divers, who, for a trifling sum, are willing to take part in this painful contest. On the evening of the day previous to that on which the diving match is to take place, each champion is fed with seven compressed balls of cooked rice. Then each is made to lie down on a nice new mat, and is covered with a beautiful, Dyak-woven sheet; an incantation is made over him, and the spirit inhabitants of the waters are invoked to come to the aid of the man whose cause is just. Early the next morning the champions are roused from their sleep, and dressed each in a fine new waistcloth. The articles staked are brought down from the houses, and placed upon the bank. A large crowd of men, women and children join the procession of the two champions and their friends and supporters to the scene of the contest at the river-side. As soon as the place is reached, fires are lit and mats are spread for the divers to sit on and warm themselves. While they sit by their respective fires, the necessary preparations are made. Each party provides a roughly-constructed wooden grating, to be placed in the bed of the river, for his champion to stand on in the water. These are placed within a few yards of each other, where the water is deep enough to reach the waist, and near each a pole is thrust firmly into the mud for the man to hold on to while he is diving. The two divers are led into the river, and each stands on his own grating, grasping his pole. At a given signal they plunge their heads simultaneously into the water. Immediately the spectators shout aloud at the top of their voices, over and over again, "_Lobon--lobon_," and continue doing so during the whole contest. What these mysterious words mean, I have never been able to discover. When at length one of the champions shows signs of yielding, by his movements in the water, and the shaking of the pole he is holding to, the excitement becomes very great. "_Lobon--lobon_," is shouted louder and more rapidly than before. The shouts become deafening. The struggles of the poor victim, who is fast losing consciousness, are painful to witness. The champions are generally plucky, and seldom come out of the water of their own will. They stay under water until the loser drops senseless, and is dragged ashore, apparently lifeless, by his companions. The friends of the winner, raising a loud shout of triumph, hurry to the bank and seize and carry off the stakes. The vanquished one, quite unconscious, is carried by his friends to the fire, where he is warmed. In a few minutes he recovers, opens his eyes and gazes wildly around, and in a short time is able to walk slowly home. Where both champions succumb at the same time, the one who first regains his senses is held to be the winner. The Dyaks have a curious superstition that if food is offered to a man, and he refuses it, and goes away without at least touching it, some misfortune is sure to befall him. It is said that he is sure to be either attacked by a crocodile, or bitten by a snake, or suffer from the attack of some animal. When Dyaks have been asked to stay and have a meal, if they do not feel inclined to do so, I have often noticed them touch the food before going away. I have never been able to discover the origin of this curious superstition, but innumerable tales are told of those who have disregarded it, and have paid the penalty by being attacked by some animal. The Dyaks are very truthful. So disgraceful indeed do the Dyaks consider the deceiving of others by an untruth, that such conduct is handed down to posterity by a remarkable custom. They heap up a pile of the branches of trees in memory of the man who has told a great lie, so that future generations may know of his wickedness, and take warning from it. The persons deceived start the _tugong bula_--"the liar's mound"--by heaping up a large number of branches in some conspicuous spot by the side of the path from one village to another. Every passer-by contributes to it, and at the same time curses the man in memory of whom it is. The Dyaks consider the adding to any _tugong bula_ they may pass a sacred duty, the omission of which will meet with supernatural punishment, and so, however pressed for time a Dyak may be, he stops to throw on the pile some small branch or twig. A few branches, a few dry twigs and leaves--that is what the _tugong bula_ is at first. But day by day it increases in size. Every passer-by adds to it, and in a few years' time it becomes an imposing memorial to one who was a liar. Once started, there seems to be no means of destroying a _tugong bula_. There used to be one by the side of the path between Seratok and Sebetan. As the branches and twigs that composed it often came over the path, on a hot day in the dry weather, I have more than once applied a match to it and burnt it down. However, in a very short time, a new heap of branches and twigs was piled on the ashes of the old _tugong bula_. CHAPTER IX DYAK FEASTS The Dyak religious feasts may be divided into the four following classes:-- Those connected with-- 1. Head-taking. 2. Farming. 3. The Dead. 4. Dreams, etc. Though the Dyak feasts differ in their aims, there is a great deal which is common to them all. In these feasts the religious aspect does not seem of great importance. There is little real, reverential worship of gods or spirits. It is true that food is offered to some higher powers, but this is done as the mere observance of an ancient custom. There are also long incantations made by men chosen for that purpose, who have good memories and can recite in a monotonous chant the special hymns of great length connected with each feast. But the guests do not share in this as an act of religious worship. They are generally sitting round, talking, and laughing, and eating. While these incantations are sung, topics of common interest are discussed, and plans formed, and in all Dyak feasts, sociability and the partaking of food and drink seem to take a more prominent place than any religious worship. The preparations for all these feasts are much alike. They extend over a length of time, and consist for the most part in the procuring of food for the guests. The young men go to their friends, far and near, and obtain from them presents of pigs or fowls for the feast, and as cock-fighting is loved by the Dyaks, they at the same time procure as many fighting cocks as possible. The women busy themselves with pounding out an extra amount of rice, both for the consumption of the guests, and also for the making of _tuak_ or native spirit. The special characteristics and religious aspects of these different feasts must now be noticed. 1. _Feasts connected with Head-taking._ All these are given in honour of Singalang Burong, who is the ruler of the spirit-world, and the god of war. These feasts are not held as frequently as those connected with farming, but when any of them take place, a great deal is made of the event. The most important is the _Bird Feast_. The _Bird Feast_. This feast is also called the _Head Feast_, because part of the ceremony connected with it is the giving of food to some human heads taken in war, or the _Horn-bill Feast_, because carved figures of the horn-bill are used. It lasts three days whereas other feasts only last one day. In the old days it was only held on the return from a successful war expedition, when the heads of the enemy were brought home in triumph. But in the present day this feast is organized when they get a good harvest, and when the people of the Dyak house seem so inclined, and if no new heads have been lately brought home as trophies, some old smoked heads that have been in the house for years are used. Among the preparations for this feast is the making of the carved wooden figure of the rhinoceros' horn-bill. This wooden figure is set on a high pole, which is fixed into the ground in front of the house. An offering of Dyak delicacies is hung up under it for food. Sometimes several of these figures are used. Some human heads are placed in large brass dishes in the public hall of the Dyak house, and to these offerings of food and drink are made. Some of the food is stuffed into the mouths of these heads, and the rest is placed before them. There are also certain erections called _pandong_ put up at regular intervals in the long public hall, and to these are hung war-charms, swords and spears, etc. The men who are chosen to make the incantations walk up and down, going round the _pandong_ and the heads in the brass dishes, singing the particular incantation that is used at this feast. This singing lasts the whole night, beginning at 8 P.M. and continuing till the following morning. Except for a short interval for rest in the middle of the night, the performers are marching and singing all the time. The killing of a pig, and examining the liver to find out whether good or bad fortune is in store for them, is the last act of the ceremony. 2. The principal feast connected with _Farming_ is the _Gawai Batu_ (the "Stone Feast"). It takes place before the farming operations begin, and is held in honour of Pulang Gana, the god of the land, who lives in the bowels of the earth, and has power to make the land fruitful or unfruitful. In this feast invocations are made to this god, and he is asked to give them a good harvest. The whetstones and farming implements are placed in a heap in the public part of the Dyak house. Offerings are made to the whetstones with a request that they may sharpen the tools and thus lighten the labours of their owners. After the feast is over, the whetstones are taken to the different farms, and the work of cutting down the jungle for planting begins. 3. The _Great Feast connected with the Dead_ is the _Gawai Antu_ (the "Spirit Feast"). No definite time is fixed for the celebration of this, and it may be held one or two years after the death of a person. All those that have died since the last time the feast was held, are honoured at the same time, so that the number of departed spirits remembered at this feast is sometimes great. The preparation for this feast is carried on for many weeks. Distant friends and relatives are visited, and asked to help with gifts of food or money. Hard wood memorial monuments for the graves are got ready by the men. The women weave, with finely-split bamboo, small imitations of various articles of personal and domestic use, and those are hung over the graves, and in this way given to the dead for their use in the other world. If the dead person be a man, a bamboo gun, a shield, a war-cap and such things are woven; if a woman, a loom, a fish-basket, a winnowing fan, etc.; if a child, bamboo toys of various kinds. Before the feasting begins in the evening, there takes place the formal putting off of mourning. The nearest male relative of the dead person in whose honour the feast is held, comes dressed in an old and shabby waist cloth. This is cut through by some chief, and the man puts on a better garment. In the case of female relatives, also, their old shabby garments are cut through and thrown aside, and they resume the use of bright clothing and personal ornaments. The bundles containing finery, that were put away at the death of their relative, are brought forth, and the string tying them cut through, and the owners put on their bright garments again. As the feast is in honour of several who have died since the feast was last held, this kind of thing goes on in several of the rooms at the same time. The professional wailer sits on a swing in the verandah outside the rooms, and in a monotonous voice invites all the spirits of the dead to attend this feast given in their honour. The morning after the feast, the last duty to the dead is performed. The wooden monuments, the bamboo imitation articles, and food of all kinds are arranged upon the different graves. Having received these gifts, the dead relinquish all claim upon the living, and depend on their own resources. 4. A superstitious people like the Dyaks, living in constant dread of unseen powers, naturally hold a feast when anything unusual takes place. As the gods and spirits are supposed to communicate their wishes to human beings by means of dreams, it naturally follows that if a man dreams that some spirit is hungry and asks for food, at once a feast is held, and offerings are made to that spirit. As the omens of birds are observed and obeyed by the Dyaks, and the omen birds are looked upon as messengers of the great god Singalang Burong, when a bird of ill omen comes into a Dyak house, a feast is held, and offerings are made to the gods and spirits. When a man has recovered from a long and dangerous illness, very often a feast is held to thank the spirit of disease for leaving them, and to beg him to stay away a long time. To all these feasts the whole neighbourhood for miles around are invited. Some weeks before the day appointed for the feast, small parties of three or four are despatched in different directions, and these go from house to house and invite people to the feast. The men and women come to a feast dressed in the brightest colours and wearing many ornaments, and the whole assembly has a very gay appearance. For amusements they have dancing, cock-fighting, and trials of strength among the young men. The Dyaks have two dances--the _Mencha_ or Sword Dance, and the _Ajat_ or War Dance. In the former, two swords are placed on a mat, and two men begin slowly from the opposite ends turning their bodies about, extending the arms, and lifting their feet and planting them down in grotesque but not ungraceful attitudes. After moving about for some minutes, they seize the swords and pass and repass each other, now cutting, now crossing swords, retiring and advancing. The main idea of this Sword Dance seems to be the posturing in different attitudes, and not so much the skill displayed in fencing. I have often watched a Dyak Sword Dance, where neither has touched the other with his sword, the movements having been so leisurely that there has been plenty of time to ward off each attack. [Illustration: A DYAK GIRL IN GALA COSTUME] The _Ajat_ or War Dance is danced by one man. He is generally fully armed with sword, spear and shield. He acts in pantomime what is done when on the war-path. The dancer begins by imitating the creeping through the jungle in cautious manner, looking to the right and to the left, before and behind, for the foe. The lurking enemy is suddenly discovered, and after some rapid attack and defence, a sudden plunge is made upon him, and he lies dead on the ground. The taking of the head of this invisible enemy ends the dance. Both kinds of dancing are accompanied by the striking of brass gongs and drums. Cock-fighting is a favourite sport, and there is a great deal of it at all Dyak forests. The cocks have artificial steel spurs which are very sharp. CHAPTER X THE WITCH DOCTOR The children of Borneo are taught from their earliest years that there are evil spirits everywhere--in the air, in the trees, in the rocks and in the streams--and that these cause disease and death. And so when sickness comes, the witch doctor or _Manang_ is sent for, because he claims to have mysterious powers over the spirits. Every disease is believed to be caused by the touch of some demon, who wishes to carry off the soul of the sick man into the other world, and the witch doctor is the man who has power to charm or kill the evil spirit, and rescue the soul of the sick man from his cruel clutches. When called in to attend a patient, he in company with other medicine men go through a ceremony, which, though agreeing in the main points, differs in details according to what the disease is, and the amount of fees paid. The witch doctor always possesses a _lupong_ or medicine box, generally made of bark skin, which is filled with charms, consisting of scraps of wood or bark, curiously twisted roots, pebbles and fragments of quartz. These charms are either inherited or revealed to their owners by the spirits in dreams, as possessing medicinal virtue. One important and necessary charm is the _Batu Ilau_--"stone of light"--a bit of quartz crystal into which the witch doctor looks in order to see the soul, so as to be able to catch it and bring it back to the body it has left. It is believed by the Dyaks that in all cases of serious sickness, the soul leaves the body and wanders about at greater or less distance from it; if it can be caught before it has proceeded too far on its journey to the other world, well and good; if not, the patient dies. Whether the patient recover or not, the witch doctor is rewarded for his services. He makes sure of this beforehand, and demands his fee before he undertakes the case. The _Manang_ never carries his own box of charms; the people who fetch him must carry it for him. He arrives at the house of the sick man generally at sunset, for he never performs by daylight, unless the case is very serious, and he is paid extra for doing so. It is difficult and dangerous work, he says, to have any dealings with the spirits in the daytime. Sitting down by the patient, after some inquiries, he produces out of his medicine box a pebble, or a boar's tusk, or some other charm, and gently strokes the body with it. If there be several medicine men called in, the leader undertakes the preliminary examination, the rest giving their assent. The witch doctor now produces his _Batu Ilau_ ("stone of light") and gravely looks into it to see where the soul is, and to discover what is the proper ceremony for the case. When there is serious illness, the witch doctor affirms that the spirit of the afflicted person has already left the body and is on its way to the other world, but that he may be able to overtake it and bring it back, and restore it to the person to whom it belongs. He pretends to converse with the evil spirit that troubles the sick man, repeating aloud the answers that the spirit is supposed to make. There are many different ceremonies resorted to in cases of illness, but the following is what is common to all _Manang_ performances. In the public hall of the Dyak house, a long-handled spear is fixed blade upwards, with a few leaves tied round it, and at its foot are placed the medicine boxes of all the witch doctors who take part in the ceremony. This is called the _Pagar Api_ ("fence of fire"). Why it is called by this curious name is not clear. The _Manangs_ all squat on the floor, and the leader begins a long monotonous drawl, the rest either singing in concert, or joining in the choruses, or singing in turn with him. After a tiresome period of this, they stand up and march with slow and solemn step in single file round the _Pagar Api_. The monotonous chant sometimes slackens, sometimes quickens, as they march round and round the whole night through, with only one interval for food in the middle of the night. The patient simply lies on his mat and listens. Most of what is chanted consists of meaningless sounds, it being supposed that what is not understood by man is intelligible to the spirits. But some parts of it can be understood by the careful listener. The witch doctors call upon the sickness to be off to the ends of the earth and return to the unseen regions from whence it came. They invoke the aid of spirits, as well as their own ancestors, and spin out the invocation to last till early morning. Then they rush round the _Pagar Api_ as hard as they can go, still singing their incantation. One of their number suddenly falls on the floor and lies motionless. The others sit down round him. He is covered over with a blanket, and all wait, while his spirit is supposed to hurry away to the other world to find the wandering soul and bring it back. Presently he revives, and looks vacantly round like a man just waking out of sleep. Then he raises his right hand clenched as if holding something. That hand contains the soul, and he proceeds to the patient, and solemnly returns it to the body of the sick man through the crown of his head. This "catching of the soul" is the great end to which all that has preceded leads up. One more thing must be done to complete the cure. A live fowl must be waved over the patient, and as he does so, the leader sings a special invocation of great length. The animal is afterwards killed as an offering to the spirits, and eaten by the _Manangs_. The witch doctor is supposed to be called to his profession by a revelation made to him in a dream by some spirit. He therefore claims to have a familiar spirit, whom he can call to his aid when necessary. He must also commit to memory a certain amount of Dyak incantations to take part in the ceremonies in company with other _Manangs_. In addition to this, before he can accomplish the more important feats such as pretending to catch the soul of a sick man, he must be initiated by other witch doctors. There are three different grades of _Manangs_, and the higher the grade is, the larger the fees the aspirant has to pay the other witch doctors. There are some differences in the ceremonies connected with the admission into each of these three grades, but in all of them the aspirant sits in the verandah of the Dyak house, and a number of witch doctors walk round him singing incantations during the whole night. The other _Manangs_ pretend to endow him with mysterious powers, and to make him able to "touch" the maladies of the body, and also to see the soul wherever it may be wandering. From what has been said it will be seen that the Dyak witch doctor uses much deceit and trades on the ignorance of others. He pretends to be able to "catch the soul" of a sick man, and is paid for doing so. When Dyaks have given up their old beliefs and superstitions, and have accepted the true Faith, they naturally give up their belief in the witch doctor's mysterious powers. For this reason the greatest opponents to the advance of the Gospel in Borneo are the _Manangs_. I am glad to say, however, that some Dyak witch doctors have listened to the teaching of the missionaries and have seen the wickedness of the deceitful lives they have led. These have become Christians, and have openly confessed to their evil practices in trading on the superstitions of the Dyaks. Some have become Catechists and teachers, and are teaching others to renounce the belief in evil spirits which they at one time taught, and are undoing the evil they did in the past by bringing people to God. CHAPTER XI SOME ANIMAL STORIES The Dyaks of Borneo, both young and old, are very fond of listening to stories, and often in the evening in the public hall of the long Dyak village house, a crowd of men, women and children may be seen seated on mats, listening to a legend or fairy-tale related by some old man. They have a large number of stories about animals which the Dyaks are never tired of listening to; and though they know them well, still they love to hear them retold again and again. These animal stories correspond to the adventures of Brer Rabbit, or our own tales illustrating the cunning of the fox. In the Dyak stories the mouse-deer, one of the smallest animals to be found in Borneo, is represented as very clever, and able to outwit with his cunning the larger and stronger animals. Here are two animal stories which I have myself heard related by the Dyaks themselves: THE STORY OF THE MOUSE-DEER AND OTHER ANIMALS WHO WENT OUT FISHING Once upon a time the Mouse-deer, accompanied by many other animals, went on a fishing expedition. All day long they fished, and in the evening they returned to the little hut they had put up by the river-side, salted the fish they had caught, and stored it up in large jars. They noticed, when they returned in the evening, that much of the fish they had left in the morning was missing. The animals held a council to decide what it was best to do, and after some discussion, it was decided that the Deer should stay behind to catch the thief, while the others went out to fish. "I shall be able to master him, whoever he is," said the Deer. "If he refuses to do what I wish, I shall punish him with my sharp horns." So the others went out fishing, leaving the Deer at home. Soon he heard the tramp of someone coming to the foot of the ladder leading up into the hut, and a voice called out: "Is anyone at home?" "I am here," said the Deer. Looking out he saw a great giant, and his heart failed him. He wished he had asked one of his companions to stay with him. "I smell some fish," said the Giant. "I want some, and you must give it to me at once. I am hungry. Let me have what I want." "It does not belong to me," said the Deer, in great fear. "It belongs to the Pig, the Bear, the Tiger, and the Mouse-deer. They would punish me severely if I gave any of it to you." "Don't talk to me in that way," said the Giant, impatiently. "If you do not let me have what I want, I will eat you up." The Deer was too frightened of the Giant to refuse his request, so he let him eat the fish, and take some away with him. When his companions returned, the Deer gave them his account of the Giant's visit. They blamed him for his cowardice, and the Wild Boar said he would keep watch the next day. "If the Giant comes," said he, "I will gore him with my tusks, and trample him underfoot." But he fared no better than the Deer, for when he saw the Giant, who threatened to kill him if he refused to give him some fish, he was afraid, and let him take as much as he wanted. Great was the disgust of the others to find on their return that their fish had again been taken. "Let me watch," said the Bear. "No Giant shall frighten me. I will hug him with my strong arms, and scratch him with my sharp claws." So Bruin was left in charge the next day, while the others went out to fish. Soon he heard the Giant who came to the foot of the steps, and shouted: "Hullo! Who's there?" "I am," said the Bear. "Who are you, and what do you want?" "I can smell some nice fish, and I am hungry, and want some." "I cannot let you have any," said the Bear. "It does not belong to me." "Let me have some at once," said the Giant in a voice of thunder, "before I kill and eat you." The Bear was too much frightened to interfere, while the Giant ransacked the jars. When he had had enough, he bade the Bear "Good-bye!" and went off. On the return of the other animals, the Tiger said he would put a stop to this state of things. He would stay at home the next day and keep watch. It would have to be a very strong Giant indeed that would dare to fight him! The Giant paid his visit as before, and told the Tiger that he was hungry, and asked for some fish. At first the Tiger refused to give any to him, but when the Giant threatened to attack him, he was afraid, like the others had been, and let him have as much as he wanted. On their return, again the animals found their fish had been stolen. Then the Mouse-deer spoke. "I see," he said, "that it is no use depending on you others. You boast, but when the time comes for action, you have no courage. I will stay at home, and secure this giant of whom you are all afraid." When his companions had gone away the next morning, the Mouse-deer tied a bandage round his forehead and lay down. Soon the Giant came, and shouted: "Who's there?" "Only me," said the Mouse-deer, groaning with pain. "Come up, whoever you may be." The Giant climbed up the rickety ladder, and saw the Mouse-deer lying with his head bandaged. "What is the matter with you?" asked the Giant. "I have a headache," was the answer. "Whatever has given you the headache?" asked the Giant. "Can't you guess?" said the Mouse-deer. "It is the smell of this fish in these jars. It is so strong, it is enough to make anyone ill. Don't you feel ill yourself?" "I think I do," said the Giant. "Cannot you give me some medicine?" "I have no medicine with me," said the Mouse-deer, "but I can bandage you, as I have bandaged myself, and that is sure to do you good." "Thank you," said the Giant. "It is good of you to take the trouble to cure me." So the Giant lay down as he was bid, while the Mouse-deer bandaged his head and fastened the ends of the bandage to pegs which he drove into the ground under the open flooring of the hut. "Don't you feel a little pain in your ankles?" anxiously suggested the Mouse-deer. "I think I do," said the foolish giant. "Suppose you bandage them also." So the Mouse-deer, chuckling to himself, bandaged his ankles, and made them fast to the floor of the hut. "Do you not feel the pain in your legs?" asked the Mouse-deer. "I think I do," was the foolish Giant's reply. So the Mouse-deer bandaged his legs and made them secure, so that the Giant was quite unable to move. By this time the Giant began to get uneasy, and trying to get up, and finding himself securely bound, he struggled, and roared in pain and anger. The little Mouse-deer sat before him and laughed, and said: "You were a match for the Deer, the Pig, the Bear, and the Tiger, but you are defeated by me. Don't make so much noise, or I shall drive a peg through your temples and kill you." Just then the others returned from their fishing. Great was their joy to find their enemy securely bound. With shouts of triumph they fell upon the Giant and killed him, and praised the Mouse-deer for his cleverness in securing him. THE STORY OF THE MOUSE-DEER, THE DEER, AND THE PIG A Mouse-deer, wandering in the jungle, fell into a pit. He could not get out, so he waited patiently for some passer-by. Presently a Pig passed by the mouth of the pit. The Mouse-deer called out to him, and he looked in and asked the Mouse-deer what he was doing at the bottom of the pit. "Don't you know what is going to happen?" said the Mouse-deer. "The sky is going to fall down, and everybody will be crushed to dust unless he takes shelter in a pit. If you want to save your life, you had better jump in." The Pig jumped into the pit, and the Mouse-deer got on his back, but he found he was not high enough to enable him to leap out. Next a Deer came along, and, seeing the two animals in the pit, asked them what they were doing there. The Mouse-deer replied: "The sky is going to fall down, and everyone will be crushed unless he hides in some hole. Jump in, if you want to save your life." The Deer sprang in, and the Mouse-deer made him stand on the back of the Pig; then he himself got on the back of the Deer and jumped out of the pit, leaving the other two to their fate. The Deer and the Pig were very angry at being tricked in this way by such a small animal as the Mouse-deer. They scratched the side of the pit with their feet until it sloped, and enabled them to scramble out; then they followed the trail of the Mouse-deer, and soon overtook him. The Mouse-deer saw them coming, and climbed up a tree from the bough of which a large beehive was hanging. "Come down," said the Pig and Deer angrily. "You have deceived us, and we mean to kill you." "Deceived you?" said the Mouse-deer in pretended surprise. "When did I deceive you, or do anything to deserve death?" "Didn't you tell us that the sky was going to fall, and that if we did not hide ourselves in a pit we should be killed?" "Oh, yes," was the reply. "What I said was perfectly true, only I persuaded the King to postpone the disaster." "You need not try to put us off with any more lies. You must come down, for we mean to have your blood." "I cannot," said the Mouse-deer, "because the King has asked me to watch his gong," pointing to the bees' nest. "Is that the King's gong?" said the Deer. "I should like to strike it to hear what it sounds like." "So you may," said the Mouse-deer, "only let me get down, and go to some distance before you do so, as the sound would deafen me." So the Mouse-deer sprang down and ran away. The Deer took a long stick and struck the bees' nest, and the bees flew out angrily and stung him to death. The Pig, seeing what had happened, pursued the Mouse-deer, determined to avenge the death of his friend. He found his enemy taking refuge on a tree round the trunk of which a large python was curled. "Come down," said the Pig, "and I will kill you." "I cannot come down to-day. I am set here to watch the King's girdle. Look at it," he said, pointing to the Python. "Is it not pretty? I have never seen such a handsome waist-belt before." "It is beautiful," said the Pig. "How I should like to wear it for one day!" "So you may," said the Mouse-deer, "but be careful and do not spoil it." So the foolish Pig entangled himself in the folds of the Python, who soon crushed him to death and ate him for his dinner, and the clever Mouse-deer escaped, having outwitted his enemies. CHAPTER XII OMENS AND DREAMS The Dyak is conscious of his ignorance of the laws which govern the world in which he lives. He feels his weakness and the need of some guidance from unseen powers. He has no knowledge of God and the revelation He has made in the Bible, and so he has devised for himself a system of omens. There are seven birds in Borneo whose native names are: _Katupong_, _Beragai_, _Kutok_, _Embuas_, _Nendak_, _Papau_ and _Bejampong_. These are supposed to reveal to the Dyaks the will of the great god Singalang Burong. These birds are beautiful in plumage, but, like most tropical birds, they have little song, and their calls are shrill and piercing. They are supposed to be the seven sons-in-law of Singalang Burong, and the legend which tells of how the Dyaks came to know them and to listen to their cries is given in Chap. XIV. ("The Story of Siu"). The system of bird omens as carried out by the Dyaks, is most complicated, and the younger men have constantly to ask the older ones how to act when contradictory omens are heard. The law and observance of omens occupy a great share of the thoughts of the Dyak. Some idea of the method in which the Dyaks carry out their system of omens may be learned from what is done at the beginning of the yearly rice farming. Some man who has the reputation of being fortunate, and has had large paddy crops, will be the augur, and undertake to obtain omens for a large area of land, on which he and others intend to plant. This man begins his work some time before the Dyaks begin clearing the ground of jungle and high grass. He will have to hear the cry of the _Nendak_, the _Katupong_ and the _Beragai_, all on his left. If these cries come from birds on his right, they are not propitious. He goes forth in the early morning, and wanders about the jungle till the cry of the _Nendak_ is heard on his left. He will then break off a twig of anything growing near, and take it home, and put it in a safe place. But it may happen that some other omen bird or animal is first to be seen or heard. In that case he must give the matter up, return, and try his chance another day. Thus, sometimes several days pass before he has obtained his first omen. When he has heard the _Nendak_, he will then listen for the _Katupong_ and the other birds in the necessary order. There are always delays caused by the wrong birds being heard, and it may be a month or more before he hears all the necessary cries. When the augur has collected a twig for each necessary omen bird, he takes these to the land selected for farming, buries them in the ground, and with a short form of address to the omen birds and to Pulang Gana--the god of the earth--clears a small portion of the ground of grass or jungle, and then returns home. The magic virtues of the birds have been conveyed to the land, and the work of clearing it for planting may be begun at any time. The sacred birds can be bad omens as well as good. If heard on the wrong side, or in the wrong order, the planting on a particular piece of land must be postponed, or altogether abandoned. I have mentioned the omens necessary before planting the seed. In a similar manner, before beginning to build a house, or starting on a war expedition, or undertaking any new line of action, certain omens are required, if good fortune is to attend them and the Fates be propitious. The worst of all omens is to find anywhere on the farm the dead body of any animal included in the omen list. It infuses a deadly poison into the whole crop. When such a terrible thing happens, the omen is tested by killing a pig, and divining from the appearance of its liver directly after death. If the liver be pronounced to be of good omen, then all is well, but if not, then all the paddy grown on that ground must be sold or given away. Other people may eat it, for the omen only affects those who own the crop. It is not only to the cry of birds that the Dyaks pay heed. There are certain animals--the deer, the armadillo, the lizard, the bat, the python, even the rat, as well as certain insects--which all may give omens under special circumstances. But these other creatures are subordinate to the birds, from which alone augury is sought at the beginning of any important undertaking. The Dyak pays heed to these omen creatures, not only in his farming, but in all his journeyings, and in any kind of work he may be engaged in. If he be going to visit a friend, the cry of a bird of ill omen will send him back. If he be engaged in carrying beams from the jungle to his house, and hear a _Kutok_, or a _Bejampong_ or an _Embuas_, he will at once throw down the piece of timber. So great is the Dyak belief in omens, that a man will sometimes abandon a nearly-finished boat simply because a bird of ill omen flies across its bows. The labour of weeks will thus be wasted. I have myself seen wooden beams and posts left half finished in the jungle, and have been told that some omen bird was heard while the man was at work on them, and so they had to be abandoned. There are many omens which make a house unfit for habitation. If a _Katupong_ fly into it, or a _Beragai_ over the house, or an armadillo crawls up into it, the Dyaks leave the house and build another for them to live in. Sometimes, however, they sacrifice a pig, and examine the liver, and only abandon the house if the liver is considered by experts to be of bad omen. DREAMS The Dyaks place implicit confidence in dreams. Their theory is that during sleep the soul can hear, see and understand, and so what is dreamt is what really takes place. When anyone dreams of a distant land, they believe that his soul has paid a flying visit to that land. In dreams, also, the gods and spirits are supposed to bring charms to human beings. The story is often told of how a man falls asleep and dreams that a spirit came to him and gave certain charms, and lo! when he awakes, he finds them in his hands. Or else he is told in a dream to go to a certain spot at a special time and pick up some stone there, which will have some mysterious influence for good over his fortunes. Dreams are looked upon by the Dyaks as the means the gods and spirits use to convey their commands to men, or to warn them of coming danger. Houses are often deserted, and farming land, on which much labour has been spent, abandoned on account of dreams. Newly married couples often separate from the same cause. It is no unusual thing for a man or a woman to dream that the spirits are hungry and need food. In that case the inmates of the Dyak house organize a feast, and offerings are made to the hungry spirits. CHAPTER XIII MARRIAGES AND BURIALS Marriages in all countries are occasions of rejoicing, and it is the same among the Dyaks. The principal part of the ceremony is the fetching of the bride from her father's to the bridegroom's house. The women-folk of the village, who are friends of the bridegroom's family, set out in a boat, gaily decorated with an awning of parti-coloured sheets, and with streamers and flags flying, to an accompaniment of gongs and drums and musical instruments, to fetch the bride to her future home. When the boat arrives at the landing-stage of the bride's house, they all walk up--a gaily dressed crowd--and are welcomed into the house. Here they sit down and talk over the future prospects of the young couple, chewing betel-nut and _sireh_ (a kind of pepper leaf) all the time. A portion of these chewing ingredients are carefully set aside to be used later on. The Dyak with his great love for divination, cannot allow such an occasion to pass without some attempt to find out the secrets of the future. [Illustration: IN WEDDING FINERY] The company all sit down in the long common hall of the Dyak house, and the betel-nut, _sireh_, etc., specially set aside for the ceremony, are brought forward. A betel-nut is split into seven pieces by one supposed to be lucky in matrimonial matters, and these, together with the other ingredients of the betel-nut mixture, are all put in a little basket, which is bound together with red cloth, and laid for a short time upon the open platform adjoining the house. The Master of the Ceremonies, who splits the betel-nut, then makes a little speech, telling the assembled guests that if either party should desert the other without sufficient reason, the offending party shall be fined such an amount as has been agreed upon. The basket containing the split pieces of betel-nut is then brought in and uncovered, and the contents examined to ascertain the will of the gods. Should the pieces of betel-nut, by some mystic power, increase in number, the marriage will be an unusually happy one; but should they decrease, it is a bad omen, and the marriage must be postponed or relinquished altogether. But, as a matter of fact, they neither increase nor decrease, and this is taken to mean that the wedding is one upon which the spirits have pronounced neither a good nor a bad verdict. This action gives the name to the marriage ceremony. The Dyaks call marriage _Mlah Pinang_--"spitting the betel-nut." The contents of the little basket, used to discover the will of the higher powers, is chewed by those present just as other _pinang_ and _sireh_, and the marriage ceremony is over; the young couple are lawfully man and wife. For the wedding, the bride decks herself out in all the finery she possesses, or can borrow from her friends. Her wedding-dress consists of a short petticoat of Dyak-woven cloth, which reaches to her knees. Along the bottom edge of this there are sewed several rows of tinsel, and of silver coins, below which probably hang some rows of hawk-bells, which make a tinkling sound as she walks. Round her waist are several coils of brass or silver chain, and two or three belts made of dollars or other silver coins linked together. From her hips upwards, as far as her armpits, she wears a corset formed by threading split cane through a great number of small brass rings, arranged so closely together as to completely hide the cane. To this corset may be fixed two or three bands of silver coins. Her armlets of brass or silver extend as far up as her elbow. As many rings as she possesses are on her fingers, and she wears necklaces of small beads, worked in very beautiful patterns, and finished off with a tassel of beads, or else a large number of big silver or brass buttons strung together round her neck. Her ears are decorated with filigreed studs of silver gilt, with a setting of scarlet cloth behind the filigree work to show them off. In her hair is a towering comb of silver filigree work, to which are attached a number of silver spangles, which glitter with every movement of her head. She wears her hair in a knot into which are stuck a number of large brass hair-pins, decorated with beads and little tags of red and yellow and white cloth. She possesses a bright coloured jacket of Dyak-woven cloth; but she does not wear it, it is slung over her right shoulder. After this detailed description of the bride's dress, it is disappointing to learn that the bridegroom takes no special pains to ornament his person. The men wear a great deal of finery when they attend a feast, or when they go on the war-path, but on the occasion of his wedding, the bridegroom takes no extra trouble over his apparel. BURIALS As soon as a man dies, the professional mourner sits on a swing near the head of the corpse and sings a long dirge, blaming the different parts of the house, beginning with the roof-ridge and proceeding downwards, for not keeping back the soul of the dead man. Then the corpse is carried out into the public part of the house, and is covered with a Dyak sheet. By his side are put his belongings--his clothes, his implements of work, his shield, his sword, his spear--which are to be buried with him, or placed on his grave. Early the following morning the body, wrapped in mats, and secured with a light framework of wood, is carried on the shoulders of four men, and, accompanied by their friends, they go to the jungle. When they come to the spot where a tree is to be cut down for the coffin, a halt is made. A fowl is killed, and the blood collected in a cup, and mixed with a little water. Each person present is touched with the blood, to propitiate the gods, and to secure safety from any evil consequences to the persons engaged in the funeral rites. They now set to work to make the coffin. A tree is felled and the required length cut off. This is split in two, and each half is hollowed out. The corpse is then placed inside this rude coffin, the two parts of which are now firmly lashed together with cane. They then proceed either on foot or by boat to the place of burial. The trees in a Dyak burial-ground are not cut down, so there is nothing to distinguish it from any ordinary jungle. The Dyaks regard a cemetery with superstitious terror as the abode of spirits, and never go to it except to bury their dead, and when they do this, they do not stay longer than they can help, but hurry away lest they should meet some spirit from the other world. The graves are rarely more than three feet deep. The Dyaks dare not step into the grave to deepen it, because, according to their superstitious ideas, any one who does such a thing will die a violent death. They use no spade or hoe to turn up the earth, but cut the soil with their choppers, and throw up the mould with their hands. They dig the grave as far as their arms will reach, and no farther. When the corpse is buried, there are placed either in the grave or on it, for use in the next world, various articles of clothing, personal ornaments, weapons of warfare, implements of farm work, and even instruments of music, according to the sex and natural proclivities of the dead. Some of these belong to the departed; others are given by friends as tokens of affection. When the grave has been filled with earth, it is fenced round, and food and drink are placed in the enclosure, and at either end something is put to indicate the sex and favourite occupation of the deceased. If the grave be that of a warrior, it is roofed and decorated with streamers, and such of his weapons as are not buried with him are hung about, and the ground around is palisaded and spiked. The grave of the hunter is distinguished by his spear, his blow-pipe and quiver, together with the trophies of the chase--stags' antlers, and boars' tusks. Some articles of feminine attire or work--spindles, petticoats, waist-rings, or water-gourds--indicate the graves of women. CHAPTER XIV A DYAK LEGEND There are many fairy-tales and legends known to the Dyaks of the present day. As they have no written language, these have been handed down by word of mouth, from generation to generation, from ancient times. These tales and legends may be divided into two classes: 1. Those which are mythical and related as such, which are simply meant to interest and amuse, and in these respects resemble the fairy-tales familiar to us all. 2. And those believed by them to be perfectly true, and to record events which have actually taken place. These form in fact the mythology of the Dyaks. The following legend is related by them as explaining how they came to plant rice, and to observe the omens of birds: THE STORY OF SIU Many thousands of years ago, before the paddy plant was known, the Dyaks lived on tapioca, yams, potatoes and such fruit as they could find in the jungle. It was not till Siu taught them to plant paddy[3] that such a thing as rice was known. The story of how he came to know this article of food, and how he and his son, Seragunting, introduced it among the Dyaks is here set forth. [Footnote 3: Paddy--rice in the husk.] Siu was the son of a great Dyak chief. His father died when he was quite a child, and at the time this story begins, he had grown to manhood, and lived with his mother, and was the head of a long Dyak house in which lived some three hundred families. He was strong and active, and handsome in appearance, and there was no one in the country round equal to him either in strength or comeliness. He proposed to the young men of his house that they should take their blow-pipes and darts and go into the jungle to shoot birds. So one morning they all started early. Each man had with him his bundle of food for the day, and each went a different way, as they wished to see, on returning in the evening, who would be the most successful of them all. Siu wandered about the whole morning in the jungle, but, strange to say, he did not see any bird, nor did he meet with any animal. Worn out with fatigue, he sat down to rest under a large tree, and, feeling hungry, he ate some of the food he had brought with him. It was now long past midday, and he had not succeeded in killing a single bird! Suddenly he heard, not far off, the sound of birds, and hurrying in that direction, he came to a wild fig-tree covered with ripe fruit, which a very large number of birds were busy eating. Never before had he seen such a sight! On this one tree the whole feathered population of the forest seemed to have assembled together! [Illustration: KILLING BIRDS WITH A BLOW-PIPE] Siu hid himself under the thick leaves of a shrub growing near, and taking a poisoned dart, he placed it in his blow-pipe and shot it out. He had aimed at one bird and hit it. But that bird was not the only one that fell dead at his feet. To his astonishment, he saw that many of the other birds near it were killed also. Again he shot out a dart, and again the same thing happened. In a very short time, Siu had killed as many birds as he could carry. He tried to return the same way he came, but soon found himself in difficulties. He wandered about, and walked several miles, but could not find the jungle path which he had followed early in the day. It was beginning to grow dusk, and Siu was afraid he would have to spend the night in the jungle. Great was his joy, just as he was giving up all hope, to come to a garden and a path leading from it. Siu followed this path, knowing it would lead him to some house not far off. He soon came to a well, and near at hand he saw the lights of a long Dyak house. He stopped to have a bath, and hid the birds he was carrying, and his blow-pipe and quiver in the brushwood near the well, hoping to take them with him when he started to return the next morning. He walked up to the house, and when he came to the bottom of the ladder leading up to it he shouted: "Oh, you people in the house, will you allow a stranger to walk up?" A voice answered, "Yes; come up!" He walked up into the house. To his surprise he saw no one in the long public hall in front of the different rooms. That part of a Dyak house, usually so crowded, was quite empty. All was silent. Even the person who answered him was not there to receive him. He saw a dim light further on, and walked towards it, wondering what had happened to all the people of the house. Presently he heard a woman's voice in the room say: "Sit down, Siu; I will bring out the _pinang_[4] and _sireh_[5] to you." Soon a young and remarkably pretty girl came out of the room with the chewing ingredients, which she placed before him. [Footnote 4: _Pinang_--betel-nut.] [Footnote 5: _Sireh_--a kind of pepper-leaf which the Dyaks are fond of eating with betel-nut.] "Here you are at last, Siu," she said; "I expected you would come earlier. How is it you are so late?" Siu explained that he had stopped at the well to have a bath, as he was hot and tired. "You must be very hungry," said the girl; "wait a moment while I prepare some food. After you have eaten, we can have our talk together." When Siu was left to himself, he wondered what it all meant. Here was a long Dyak house built for more than a hundred families to live in, and yet it seemed quite deserted. The only person in it appeared to be the beautiful girl who was cooking his food for him. He was also surprised that she knew his name, and expected him that day. "Come in, Siu," said the voice from the room; "your food is ready." Siu was hungry, and went in at once. When they had done eating, she cleared away the plates and tidied the room. Then she spread out a new mat for him, and brought out the _pinang_ and _sireh_, and bade him be seated as she wished to have a chat with him. Siu had many questions to ask, but before he could do so, she said to him, "Tell me of your own people, and what news you bring from your country." "There is no news to give you," Siu replied. "We have been rather badly off for food, as our potatoes and yams did not turn out so well this year as we hoped." "Tell me what made you come in this direction, and how it was you found out this house." "While I was hunting in the jungle to-day, I lost my way. After wandering about a long time, I found a path which I followed and came to this house. It was kind of you to take me in and give me food. If I had not found this house, I should have had to spend the night in the jungle. To-morrow morning you must show me the way back to my village. My mother is sure to be anxious about me. She is left all alone now that I am away. My father died a long time ago, and I am her only son." "Do not go away as soon as to-morrow morning. Stay here a few days at any rate." At first Siu would not consent, but she spoke so nicely to him, that she persuaded him to stay there at least a week. Then he went out to the verandah, and she brought out a mat for him to sleep on, and a sheet to cover himself with. As Siu was very tired, he soon fell sound asleep, and did not wake up till late the following morning. Now, though Siu knew it not, this was the house of the great Singalang Burong, the ruler of the spirit-world. He was able to change himself and his followers into any form. When going forth on an expedition against the enemy, he would transform himself and his followers into birds, so that they might travel more quickly. Over the high trees of the jungle, over the broad rivers, sometimes even across the sea, Singalang Burong and his flock would fly. There was no trouble about food, for in the forests there were always some wild trees in fruit, and while assuming the form of birds, they lived on the food of birds. In his own house and among his own people, Singalang Burong appeared as a man. He had eight daughters, and the girl who had cooked food for Siu was the youngest of them. After Siu had been in the house seven days, he thought he ought to be returning to his own people. By this time he was very much in love with the girl who had been so kind to him, and he wished above all things to marry her, and take her back with him to his own country. "I have been here a whole week," he said to her, "I want to say something, and I hope you will not be vexed with me." "Speak on; I promise not to be angry at anything you say." "I have learnt to love you very much," said Siu, "and I would like to marry you, if you will consent, and take you with me to my own land. Also, I wish you to tell me your name, and why this house is so silent, and where all the people belonging to it are." "I will consent to marry you, for I also love you. But you must first promise me certain things. In the first place, you must not tell your people of this house, and what you have seen here. Then you must promise faithfully not to hurt a bird or even to hold one in your hands. If ever you break these promises, then we cease to be man and wife." "Yes," said Siu, "I promise not to speak of what I have seen here until you give me leave to do so. And as you do not wish it, I will never hurt or handle a bird." "Now that you have promised what I wish, I will tell you of myself and the people of this house," said the maiden. "I am known to my friends as _Bunsu Burong_ (the youngest of the bird family), or _Bunsu Katupong_ (the youngest of the _Katupong_ family). This house as you noticed seems very empty. The reason is that a month ago many of our people were killed by some of the people in your house, and we are still in mourning for them. As you know when our relatives have lately died, we stay silent in our rooms, and do not come out to receive visitors or entertain them. On the morning of the day on which you arrived, all the men of this house went on the war-path, so as to obtain some human heads, to enable us to put away our mourning. With us as with you, it is necessary that one or more human heads be brought into the house before the inmates can give up sorrowing for their dead relatives and friends. All the people in this house, when at home, are in the form of human beings, but they are able to transform themselves into birds. My father, Singalang Burong, is the head of this house. I am the youngest of eight sisters. We have no brothers alive; our only brother died not long ago, and we are still in mourning for him, and that is the reason why my sisters did not come out to greet you." Siu heard with surprise all she had to say. He thought to himself that it was lucky he did not bring up to the house the birds which he had killed in the jungle, and that he had hidden them with his blow-pipe and quiver containing poisoned darts in the brushwood near the well. He determined to say nothing about the matter, as probably some of her friends and relations were among the birds that were killed by him. So Siu married Bunsu Burong, and continued to live in the house for several weeks. One day he said to his wife, "I have been here a long time. My people must surely be wondering where I am, and whether I am still alive. My mother too must be very anxious about me. I should like to return to my people, and I want you to accompany me. My mother and my friends are sure to welcome you as my wife." "Oh, yes, I will gladly accompany you back to your home. But you must remember and say nothing of the things you have seen or heard in this house." They started early the next day, taking with them enough food for four days, as they expected the journey would last as long as that. Siu's wife seemed to know the way, and after journeying three days, they came to the stream near the house, and they stopped to have a bath. Some of the children of the house saw them there, and ran up to the house and said: "Siu has come back, and with him is a beautiful woman, who seems to be his wife." Some of the older people checked the children, saying: "It cannot be Siu; he has been dead for a long time. Don't mention his name, for if his mother hears you talk of him, it will make her very unhappy." But the children persisted in saying that it was indeed Siu that they had seen. Just then Siu and his wife appeared and walked up into the house. Siu said to his wife: "The door before which I hang up my sword is the door of my room. Walk straight in. You will find my mother there, and she will gladly welcome you as her daughter-in-law." When they came into the house, all the inmates rushed out to meet them, and to congratulate Siu on his safe return. They asked him many questions: Where had he been living all this time? How he came to be married? And what was the name of his wife's country? But Siu answered little, as he remembered the promise he had made to his wife, that he would not speak of what he had seen in her house. When Siu hung up his sword, his wife pushed open the door and walked in. Siu's mother was very pleased to see her son, whom she had mourned as dead, alive and well, and when told of his marriage, she welcomed his wife with joy. In process of time Siu's wife bore him a son, whom they named Seragunting. He was a fine child, and as befitted the grandson of Singalang Burong, he grew big and strong in a miraculously short time, and when he was three years old, he was taller and stronger than others four times his age. One day as Seragunting was playing with the other boys, a man brought some birds which he had caught in a trap. As he walked through the house, he passed Siu who was sitting in the open verandah. Siu, forgetting the promise he had made to his wife, asked to see the birds, and he took one in his hands and stroked it. His wife was sitting near, and she saw him hold the bird, and was very vexed that he had broken his promise to her. She said to herself: "My husband has broken his word to me. He has done the thing he promised me he would never do. I cannot stay in this house any longer. I must return to the house of my father, Singalang Burong." She took the water-vessels in her hands, and went out as if to fetch water. But when she came to the well, she placed the water-gourds on the ground, and disappeared into the jungle. In the meantime, Seragunting, tired with his play, came back in search of his mother. She was very fond indeed of him, and he expected her to come to him as soon as he called out to her. But he was disappointed. No one answered his call, and when he looked into the room, she was not there. He asked his father where his mother was, and he told him she had gone to the well to fetch water and would soon be back. But hour after hour passed and she did not return. So Seragunting asked his father to accompany him to the well to look for her. They found the water-vessels there, but saw no signs of her. So they both returned sadly to the house, taking back with them the water-gourds which Siu's wife had left at the well. Early the next day Seragunting and his father went in search of her. They took with them only a little food, as they expected to find her not far off. But they wandered the whole day, and saw no signs of her. They spent the night under a large tree in the jungle. Early the next morning they were surprised to find a small bundle of food, wrapped up in leaves, near Seragunting. The food was evidently meant for him alone, as it was not enough for two, but he gave some of it to his father, who ate sparingly of it, so that his son might not be hungry. They wandered on for several days, and every night the same thing occurred--a bundle of food was placed near Seragunting. After journeying many days, they came to the sea-shore. Siu suggested to his son that they should return, but Seragunting, who during the journey had grown up into a strong lad with a will of his own, would not consent to do so, as he was determined to find his mother. After waiting by the shore a few days, they saw a dark cloud come to them over the sea. As it came nearer, it took the form of a gigantic Spider, carrying some food and clothes. "Do not be afraid," said the Spider, "I have come to help you and your father. I have brought you food and clothing. When you have eaten, and changed your clothes, I will take you to the land on the other side." They were told to follow the Spider. They did so. Strange to say, the water became as hard as a sand-bank under their feet. For a long time they were out of sight of land, but towards evening they approached the opposite shore. They saw several houses and one larger and more imposing than the others. To this house the Spider directed Seragunting telling him he would find his mother there. Seragunting's mother was very glad to see her son and embraced him. "How was it you went away and left us?" he said. "We missed you so much, and have travelled many days and nights in search of you. Now our troubles are over, for I have found you." "My dear son," she said as she caressed him, "though I left you, I did not forget you. It was I who placed the food by you every night. I left your father because he broke his promise to me. But you are my own son, and I have been wishing to see you ever since I left your house. It was I who sent the Spider to help you and show you your way here." Then she spoke to her husband Siu, whom she was glad to meet again. All three then went out into the verandah, which was now full of people. Seragunting was told by his mother to call the sons-in-law of Singalang Burong his uncles, but they refused to acknowledge him as their nephew. They proposed several ordeals to prove the truth of his words that he was indeed the grandson of Singalang Burong. In all these Seragunting came off victorious, and they were compelled to admit that he was a true grandson of the great Singalang Burong. But Siu was unhappy in his new home. He could not help thinking of his mother, whom he had left alone, and he was anxious to return to his own people. He begged his wife to accompany him back to his old home, but she refused to do so. It was decided that Siu and his son should stay with Singalang Burong till they had obtained such knowledge as would be useful to them in the future, and that then they were to return to the other world, taking with them the secrets they had learnt. All the people of the house were now most kind to Siu and his son, and were most anxious to teach them all they could. They were taken on a war expedition against the enemy, so that they might learn the science and art of Dyak warfare. They were taught how to set traps to catch deer and wild pig. They were shown the different methods of catching fish, and learnt to make the different kinds of fish-trap used by Dyaks of the present day, and they remained in Singalang Burong's house that whole year for the purpose of acquiring a complete and practical knowledge of the different stages of paddy growing. When the year was ended, Seragunting's mother took him and Siu to see her father. Singalang Burong was seated in his chair of state, and received them most kindly. He explained to Siu who he was, and the worship due to him, and they learnt also about the observance of omens, both good and bad. "I am the ruler of the spirit-world," said Singalang Burong, "and have power to make men successful in all they undertake. At all times if you wish for my help, you must call upon me and make offerings to me. "You have learnt here how to plant paddy. I will give you some paddy to take away with you, and when you get back to your own country, you can teach men how to cultivate it. You will find rice a much more strengthening article of food than the yams and potatoes you used to live upon, and you will become a strong and hardy race. "And to help you in your daily work, my sons-in-law will always tell you whether what you do is right or wrong. In every work that you undertake, you must pay heed to the voices of the sacred birds--_Katupong_, _Beragai_, _Bejampong_, _Papau_, _Nendak_, _Kutok_ and _Embuas_. These birds, named after my sons-in-law, represent them, and are the means by which I make known my wishes to mankind. When you hear them, remember it is myself speaking to you, through my sons-in-law, for encouragement or for warning. I am willing to help you, but I expect due respect to be paid to me, and will not allow my commands to be disobeyed." Siu and Seragunting bade their friends farewell, and started to return. As soon as they had descended the ladder of the house of Singalang Burong, they were swiftly transported through the air by some mysterious power, and in a moment they found themselves at their own house. Their friends crowded round them, glad to see them back safe and well. The neighbours were told of their return, and a great meeting was held that evening. All gathered round the two adventurers, who told them of their strange experiences in the far country of the spirit birds. The new seed, paddy, was produced, and the good qualities of rice as an article of food explained. The different names of the sacred birds were told to the assembled people, and all were warned to pay due respect to their cries. And so, according to the ancient legend, ended the old primitive life of the Dyak, when he lived upon such poor food as the fruits of the jungle, and any yams or potatoes he happened to plant near the house; the old blind existence in which there was nothing to guide him; and then began for him his new life, in which he advanced forward a step, and learnt to have regularly, year by year, his seed-time and harvest, and to know there were unseen powers ruling the universe, whose will might be learnt by man, and obedience to whom would bring success and happiness. CHAPTER XV DYAK BELIEFS AND SUPERSTITIONS The Dyaks do not worship idols, but they believe in certain gods and spirits, who are supposed to rule over different departments of life, and to these deities they make offerings and sing incantations at certain times. The following are the more important gods among the Dyaks. Singalang Burong takes the highest position in honour and dignity, and is the ruler of the spirit-world. It is doubtful what the word _Singalang_ means, but _Burong_ means "bird," and probably _Singalang Burong_ means "Bird Chief." The Dyaks are great observers of omens (see Chapter XII.), and among their omens the cries of certain birds are most important. Singalang Burong is also the god of war, and the guardian spirit of brave men. He delights in fighting, and head-taking is his glory. When Dyaks have obtained a human head, they make a great feast to the honour of this god and invoke his presence. He is the only god ever represented by the Dyaks in a material form--a carved, highly-coloured bird of grotesque shape. This figure at the _Head Feast_ is erected on the top of a pole, thirty feet or more in height, with its beak pointing in the direction of the enemy's country, so that he may "peck at the eyes of the enemy." Next in importance to Singalang Burong is Pulang Gana, who is the god of the earth. He is an important power according to Dyak ideas, and to him offerings are made and incantations sung at all feasts connected with _Farming_. They are entirely dependent upon his goodwill for a good harvest. Salampandai is the maker of men. He hammers them into shape out of clay, and forms the bodies of children to be born into the world. There is an insect which makes at night the curious noise--_kink-a-clink_, _kink-a-clink_. When the Dyaks hear this, they say it is Salampandai at his work. When each child is formed, it is brought to the gods who ask, "What would you like to handle or use?" If it answer, "A sword," the gods pronounce it a male; but if it answer, "Cotton and the spinning-wheel," it is pronounced a female. Thus they are born as boys or girls according to their own wishes. [Illustration: A DYAK YOUTH] The Dyak believes in the existence of spirits, and he thinks that innumerable spirits inhabit the forests, the rivers, the earth, and the air. Any unusual noise or motion in the jungle, anything which suggests to the mind some invisible operation, is at once attributed by the Dyak to the presence of some spirit, unseen by human eyes, but full of mighty power. Though generally invisible, these spirits sometimes show themselves. The form they assume then is not anything very supernatural, but either a commonplace human form or else some animal--a bird, or a monkey--such as is often seen in the forests. There is, however, the chief of evil spirits, Girgasi by name, who, when seen, takes the form of a giant about three times the size of a man, is covered with rough, shaggy hair, and has eyes as big as saucers, and huge glittering teeth. There are innumerable stories told by Dyaks of their meeting with spirits in the jungle, and sometimes speaking to them. Such stories generally relate how the man who sees the spirit rushes to catch him by the leg--he cannot reach higher--in order to get some charm from him, but he is generally foiled in his attempt, as the spirit suddenly vanishes. But some men, it is believed, do obtain gifts from the spirits. If a Dyak gets a good harvest, it is attributed to some magic charm he has received from some kindly spirit. Also, if he be successful on the war-path, he is credited with the succour of some mysterious being from the spirit-world. The spirits, according to the Dyaks, rove about the jungle and hunt for wild beasts, as the Dyaks do themselves. Girgasi, already mentioned, is specially addicted to the chase, and the Dyaks say he is often to be met hunting in the forest. There are certain animals who roam about in packs in the jungle. These are supposed to be the dogs which accompany the spirits when they are out hunting, and they attack those whom the spirits wish to kill. I have never seen one of these animals, but to judge from the description of them, they seem to be a kind of small jackal. They will follow and bark at men, and from their supposed connection with the spirits, are greatly feared by the Dyaks, who generally run away from them as fast as they can. The spirits are said to build their invisible habitations in trees, and many trees are considered sacred, as being the abode of one or more spirits, and to cut one of these trees down would be to provoke the spirits' anger. The tops of hills are supposed to be the favourite haunts of spirits. When Dyaks fell the jungle of the larger hills, they always leave a clump of trees at the summit as a refuge for the spirits. To leave them quite homeless would be to court certain disaster from them. From what has been said it will be seen that the spirits are much the same as their gods, and have power either to bestow favours, or cause sickness and death. They rule the conduct of the Dyak, and therefore receive the same religious homage as their gods do. The Dyak worships his gods. He has good spirits to help him, and evil spirits to harm him. He makes sacrifices to the gods and spirits, and invokes their help in long incantations. He has omens and divination and dreams to encourage or warn him. He believes he has a soul which will live in another world, a future life differing little from his existence in the flesh. CHAPTER XVI CONCLUSION I have tried to tell you in the preceding chapters what the Dyaks of Borneo are like, how they live, and what their religious ideas are. It is sad to think of them living in constant fear of evil spirits, and believing in such things as the omens of birds. All Christians must wish these people to be taught about God. Christ came to earth to teach us the Truths of the Gospel, and before He returned to Heaven, He told His disciples, and, through His disciples, all Christians: "Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." In obedience to this command, missionaries have gone out to Borneo, and many people in England, who are not able to go out to Borneo themselves, help in the good work by subscribing money to the "Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts," which sends missionaries to Borneo. Many of these missionaries live up-country at some mission station far from the town. Here there is a mission house where the missionary lives, a church where regular services are held, and a school house where boys live and are taught. As many of the long Dyak village houses are built at great distances from each other, the missionary, who wishes to do good work among the Dyaks, must not always live at his mission house, but must travel from house to house. Only by visiting distant villages, and living with the Dyaks as their guest, can the missionary learn to understand the people. Let me tell you a missionary story. A missionary in Borneo visited a Dyak village house to teach the people there about God and our Lord Jesus Christ. A crowd of men, women and children listened to him, and many a long evening did the missionary spend, sitting on a mat in the long public verandah of the Dyak house, and teaching those poor ignorant people. A Dyak boy present asked the missionary if he might go back with him to his school. The parents gave their consent, and the little boy accompanied the missionary on his return to his mission house, and attended the mission school. There, with other children, the boy was taught the Truths of the Christian Religion. After being in school for a few years, this boy returned to his Dyak home. Years passed. The boy did not forget what he had been taught at school. He saw the Dyaks among whom he lived, ruled by a fear of evil spirits, and carrying out many superstitious ceremonies, which he knew must be displeasing to God. As he grew older, he felt sad to think of the ignorance of his relatives and friends, and of the Dyaks in other villages. So he went back to the missionary and asked that he should be taught more, so that, later on, he might teach his own people, and bring some of them into God's Kingdom. This is a true story of what has happened more than once in Borneo. A boy learns about God in some up-country mission school, and on his return to his Dyak home, is sorry to see the ignorance of his people, and asks to be taught more, so that he may become a Catechist and carry God's Truth to them. When the seed is sown, it lies in the ground, and God sends the sunshine and the rain to make it grow. So the Good Seed of the Word of God is sown in the hearts of the Dyaks in Borneo, and we pray the Great Giver of the Water of Life to refresh it with His Life-giving Holy Spirit. Some seeds fall on the wayside, and the birds of the air devour them; some fall on a rock, and are scorched by the heat of the sun; some fall among thorns, and are choked; but, thank God, some fall on good ground and bring forth good fruit. The Good Seed of God's Word is being sown among the old and young in Borneo. Will you not take a share in that good work? BY THE SAME AUTHOR. SEVENTEEN YEARS AMONG THE SEA DYAKS OF BORNEO. A RECORD OF INTIMATE ASSOCIATION WITH THE NATIVES OF THE BORNEAN JUNGLES. With 40 Illustrations and a Map. MESSRS SEELEY & CO., LTD., 38 GREAT RUSSELL ST., LONDON, W.C. _Price_ 16/- _nett._ SOME OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. "Contains probably the most intimate and comprehensive account that has yet appeared of the Sea Dyaks of Sarawak.... It is so pleasantly written that the reader forgets that it is learned."--_The Times._ "We heartily commend this book to the learned public."--_The Athenæum._ "The author has been completely successful."--_The Bookman._ "Pleasant to read, and gives a really good account of an interesting race."--_The Illustrated London News._ "Mr Gomes is a skilled and gifted investigator, and his book is a valuable contribution to Eastern anthropology."--_The Outlook._ "Let our quotations serve to introduce a book as fascinating as it is authoritative."--_The Sketch._ "Mr Gomes' book is no hasty piece of work; it is the result of seventeen years spent in Sarawak.... Mr Gomes gives a very full account of the whole culture and life of the Sea Dyaks."--_The Saturday Review._ "It is emphatically good. Mr Gomes speaks as one having authority. He has certainly unique experience, sympathy, insight, comprehension, a sense of proportion, and he is not without the quality of humour and dramatic instinct, and his style, simple and clear, is not without literary distinction. He has produced a book that ought to take high rank."--_The Englishman (Calcutta)._ "Mr E. H. Gomes' absorbing book."--_The Daily Mail._ SOME NOTABLE BOOKS ON FOREIGN MISSIONS FROM THE CATALOGUE OF OLIPHANT, ANDERSON & FERRIER 100 PRINCES STREET, EDINBURGH 21 PATERNOSTER SQUARE, LONDON A HISTORY OF MISSIONS IN INDIA. By JULIUS RICHTER, D.D. Translated by _Sydney H. Moore_, Master in the School for Sons of Missionaries, Blackheath. Demy 8vo, with map 10s 6d "Will be indispensable to all students of Indian Missions. It is singularly interesting."--_London Quarterly Review._ THE PEN OF BRAHMA. Peeps into Hindu Hearts and Homes. By BEATRICE M. HARBAND, Author of "Daughters of Darkness in Sunny India," etc. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Illustrations 3s 6d _net_ HOLY HIMALAYA. The Religion, Traditions, and Scenery of the Provinces of Kumaun and Garhwal. By the REV. E. S. OAKLEY, of the London Missionary Society, Almora, Northern India. With 16 full-page Illustrations, Large crown 8vo, cloth extra 5s _net_ DAYLIGHT IN THE HAREM. Papers on Present-day Reform Movements, Conditions, and Methods of Work among Moslem Women read at the Lucknow Conference, 1911. Edited by ANNIE VAN SOMMER, A. DE SELINCOURT and S. M. ZWEMER, D.D., F.R.G.S. Illustrated, crown 8vo, cloth 3s 6d _net_ CHILDREN OF CEYLON. By THOMAS MOSCROP. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth 1s 6d _net_ THE MOSLEM DOCTRINE OF GOD. A Treatise on the Character and Attributes of Allah according to the Koran and Orthodox Tradition. By SAMUEL M. ZWEMER, Author of "Arabia, the Cradle of Islam," 2s 6d _net_ "A piece of earnest thinking and writing."--_Spectator._ THE GREAT RELIGIONS OF INDIA. By J. MURRAY MITCHELL, M.A., LL.D. Large crown 8vo, with Map and Complete Index 5s _net_ "There was room for a good book on the Religions of India, and the task of writing it could not have fallen into more competent hands than those of the veteran missionary Dr Murray Mitchell, who only a few months ago died in his ninetieth year, after a brilliant record of life-long experience of mission work in India."--_Aberdeen Daily Journal._ MOSAICS FROM INDIA: Talks about India, its Peoples. Religions, and Customs. By MARGARET B. DENNING. Large crown 8vo, art cloth decorated, with 28 illustrations 6s "Of thrilling interest."--_Spectator._ "One of the most readable and instructive volumes on India it has ever been our privilege to read."--_Aberdeen Journal._ VILLAGE WORK IN INDIA. Pen Pictures from a Missionary's Experience, By NORMAN RUSSELL, of the Canada Presbyterian Church, Central India. Crown 8vo, art cloth, with 8 full-page Illustrations 3s 6d "This book is literature. There is a noble work to describe, and it is described nobly."--_Expository Times._ FROM ZOROASTER TO CHRIST: An Autobiographical Sketch of the Rev. DHANJIBHAI NAUROJI, the first modern Convert to Christianity from the Zoroastrian Religion, With Introduction by the Rev. D. MACKICHAN, D.D. LL.D., Missionary of the United Free Church of Scotland, Bombay. With Portrait and other Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra 2s "It has a charm of its own, and wins the reader to an affectionate regard for this pure and saintly servant of Christ. Dr Mackichan has written a fitting Introduction and a tender Epilogue. It is in many ways a unique book, and should be in every missionary library and read in every missionary household."--_U.F. Church Monthly._ THE EDUCATION OF THE WOMEN OF INDIA. By M. G. COWAN, M.A. (Girton.) Cloth, with twelve Illustrations 3s 6d _net_ "Miss Cowan presents us with the useful results of a great deal of intelligent study of the problem, and of the factors which go to the solution."--_The Times._ THE WRONGS OF INDIAN WOMANHOOD. By Mrs MARCUS B. FULLER, Bombay. With an Introduction by RAMABAI. Large crown 8vo, canvas binding, with numerous Illustrations 5s "Turns a searching light upon the sorrows of Indian women and the customs to which they are at present bound to submit. An impressive study, written with commendable moderation."--_Bookman._ CHILDREN OF INDIA. By JANET HARVEY KELMAN. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth extra 1s 6d _net_ MEN OF MIGHT IN INDIA MISSIONS. The Leaders and their Epochs, 1706-1899. By HELEN H. HOLCOMB. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with 16 full-page Illustrations 6s "This fascinating and beautifully illustrated book of 350 pages deals with the rise and progress of the kingdom of Jesus Christ in India.... The story of missionary progress is traced from 1706 to 1899. The romance of missions is once more charmingly illustrated in this ably-written and most attractive volume."--_Illustrated Missionary News._ THE COBRA'S DEN, and other Stories of Missionary Work among the Telugus of India. By Rev. JACOB CHAMBERLAIN, Author of "In the Tiger Jungle." Crown 8vo, ornamental cloth binding, fully illustrated 3s 6d "Interest in the narrative of missionary work, life, and incident is maintained throughout by a charming felicity of diction, and the plea for increased missionary effort is both able and convincing."--_Daily Record._ IN THE TIGER JUNGLE, and other Stories of Missionary Work among the Telugus of India. By the Rev. JACOB CHAMBERLAIN, M.D., D.D. Large post 8vo, antique laid paper, cloth extra. With Portrait and seven Illustrations 3s 6d "There is a romance about many of these stories which will appeal particularly to young people: but the missionary aspect is never lost sight of, and the volume is well calculated to win many new friends, and perhaps volunteers, for the foreign field. The illustrations are good."--_Record._ HINDUISM AND CHRISTIANITY. By JOHN ROBSON, D.D., Author of "The Holy Spirit, the Paraclete," etc. Third Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth extra 3s 6d _net_ THE MOSLEM CHRIST. An Essay on the Life, Character, and Teachings of Jesus Christ according to the Koran and Orthodox Tradition. By SAMUEL M. ZWEMER, D.D., F.R.G.S., Author of "The Moslem Doctrine of God." Cloth, with Illustrations and Facsimiles 3s 6d _net_ SOO THAH. A Tale of the Making of the Karen Nation. By OLONZO BUNKER, D.D., Thirty Years a Missionary in Burmah. With an Introduction by HENRY C. MABIE, D.D. Crown 8vo, illustrated 3s 6d Sir WILLIAM MUIR, Edinburgh, in a letter to the author, says:--"I have read your 'Soo Thah' with the greatest pleasure and profit; more so, I might say, than that of any other book after our Scriptures." FIRE AND SWORD IN SHANSI. Being the Story of the Massacre of Foreigners and Chinese Christians. By E. H. EDWARDS, M.B., CM., over Twenty Years a Medical Missionary in China. With an Introduction by Dr ALEXANDER MACLAREN, Manchester. Large crown 8vo, with upwards of forty Illustrations, Maps, etc., handsomely bound. Cheap Edition 2s 6d _net_ "Inspiring in the revelation it gives of a heroism and self-sacrifice that may well stand comparison with what we read in the case of the early martyrs."--_Glasgow Herald._ MISSIONARY METHODS IN MANCHURIA. By the Rev. JOHN ROSS, D.D., Missionary of the United Free Church of Scotland, Moukden, New Edition, with additional chapter. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Illustrations and Plans 3s 6d "Dr Ross writes a quiet, methodical, business-like, instructive style, and is manifestly a thinker."--_British Weekly._ "A contribution towards a study, systematic and comparative, of missionary methods."--_Preston Guardian._ CHILDREN OF CHINA. By C. CAMPBELL BROWN, Author of "China in Legend and Story." (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth extra 1s 6d _net_ A MISSION IN CHINA. By W. E. SOOTHILL, Translator of the Wenchow New Testament; Author of "The Student's Pocket Dictionary"; Compiler of the Wenchow Romanised System, etc. Large crown 8vo, with numerous Illustrations, and in artistic binding 5s _net_ CHINA IN LEGEND AND STORY. By C. CAMPBELL BROWN, formerly Davis Scholar of Chinese at the University of Oxford, and for ten years resident in China. Large crown 8vo, illustrated, cloth, with Unique Native Design 3s 6d _net_ "Ten years' residence in China, close contact with the inhabitants, and an attentive ear for native stories and traditions have furnished the material and inspiration for Mr Brown's volume of sketches. ... On their narrative side alone, and with their strong human interest and colour, the stories should commend themselves."--_Scotsman._ CHINA'S ONLY HOPE. An Appeal by her greatest Viceroy, Chang Chih Tung, Viceroy of Liang Hu, with Indorsement by the present Emperor. Translated by the Rev. S. I. WOODBRIDGE. Introduction by the Rev. GRIFFITH JOHN, D.D. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Portrait of the Author 3s 6d "One of the most remarkable, if not the most remarkable, book written by a Chinese for several centuries."--_London and China Telegraph._ CHINA IN CONVULSION; The Origin; The Outbreak; The Climax; The Aftermath. A Survey of the Cause and Events of the Recent Uprising. By ARTHUR H. SMITH, Author of "Chinese Characteristics," "Village Life in China," etc. In 2 volumes, demy 8vo, cloth extra, with numerous Illustrations, Maps, and Charts 21s "The fullest and fairest statement of the causes of the outbreak which has yet been made."--Mrs ISABELLA L. BISHOP in the _Daily Chronicle_. CHINESE CHARACTERISTICS. By ARTHUR H. SMITH, Twenty-seven Years a Missionary of the American Board in China. New and Enlarged Edition, with numerous Illustrations. Demy 8vo, art linen 7s 6d "A very striking book. One of the best modern studies of that remarkable people."--_Sydney Morning Herald._ METHODS OF MISSION WORK AMONG MOSLEMS. With an Introduction by E. M. WHERRY, D.D. Being those papers read at the First Missionary Conference on behalf of the Mohammedan World held at Cairo, April 4th-9th, 1906. Cloth 4s _net_ MISSION PROBLEMS AND MISSION METHODS IN SOUTH CHINA. By Dr J. CAMPBELL GIBSON of Swatow. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Coloured Map Diagrams, and sixteen full-page Illustrations. Second Edition 6s "Teeming with valuable testimony as to the characteristics of the people among whom his life work has been carried on; containing a well of information as to the methods by which he and his fellow-workers are introducing the Christian religion into China; adding to this an abundance of broad-minded criticism of, and intelligent comment upon, the missionary and his work--the series of lectures gathered together in 'Mission Problems and Mission Methods in South China' are so good, that I take great pleasure in recommending the book, to all who are interested in the subject of foreign missions or the broader subject of the Far East."--_Daily News._ VILLAGE LIFE IN CHINA. A Study in Sociology. By ARTHUR H. SMITH, D.D., Author of "Chinese Characteristics." Demy 8vo, art linen, with numerous Illustrations. Fourth Edition 7s 6d THE ANALECTS OF CONFUCIUS. A new translation by WILLIAM EDWARD SOOTHILL, Principal of the Imperial University, Shansi; Compiler of the "Student's Pocket Dictionary," Translator of the "Wenchow New Testament," and Author of "A Mission in China," etc. Large crown 8vo, cloth 15s _net_ The Discourses, commonly known as the Analects, contain the sayings of the Sage as recorded by his disciples. The Analects holds a somewhat similar relation to the Confucian Classics that the synoptic books of the New Testament hold to the whole Bible, and, like the Gospels, is the most popular book of the Canon. THE ORIGINAL RELIGION OF CHINA. By JOHN ROSS, D.D., Author of "Mission Methods in Manchuria." With Diagrams from Original Plans, and other Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra 5s _net_ A satisfactory account of the Earliest Religion of China can be found nowhere at present except in a voluminous work by de Groot. Students of Comparative Religion will undoubtedly be grateful for the publication of this exceedingly valuable book, and there are missionaries and many others who will find it very serviceable. THE MARVELLOUS STORY OF THE REVIVAL IN MANCHURIA. Transcribed by JOHN ROSS, D.D., from the letters of the Rev. JAMES WEBSTER. With Portraits 6d _net_ THE LORE OF CATHAY; or, the Intellect of China. In five parts. Arts and Science, Literature, Philosophy and Religion, Education, History. By the Rev. W. A. P. MARTIN, D.D., LL.D., Author of "A Cycle of Cathay," etc. 10s 6d "'The time,' writes Dr Martin, 'is not, I trust, far distant when the language of China will find a place in all our principal seats of learning, and when her classic writers will be known and appreciated. Nothing should tend more to hasten the advent of that time than the broad sympathy, informed with knowledge, which enables writers like Dr Martin to show how much of human interest attaches to 'The Lore of Cathay.'"--_The Times._ EAST OF THE BARRIER; or, Side Lights on the Manchuria Mission. By the Rev. J. MILLER GRAHAM, Missionary of the United Free Church of Scotland, Moukden, Manchuria. Crown 8vo, with Illustrations and Map 3s 6d "A book which takes rank among the most interesting, practical, and well-informed books of missionary travel which has appeared of late years. A series of excellent photographs gives additional charm to a book which holds the interest from the first page to the last."--_Sunday School Chronicle._ THE HEATHEN HEART: An Account of the Reception of the Gospel among the Chinese of Formosa. By CAMPBELL N. MOODY, M.A. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Illustrations 3s 6d _net_ "The most illuminating book on missions I have ever read."--Rev. W. M. CLOW THE SAINTS OF FORMOSA: Life and Worship in a Chinese Church. By CAMPBELL N. MOODY, M.A., Author of "The Heathen Heart." Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with ten Illustrations 3s 6d _net_ "A charming book.... When Mr Moody tells us of the missionary side of his experience he is not less interesting than when he speaks of more general subjects."--_The Spectator._ FROM FAR FORMOSA: The Island, its People and Missions, By GEORGE LESLIE MACKAY, D.D. New and Cheaper Edition, large crown 8vo, art canvas binding. With four Maps and sixteen Illustrations 5s "One of the most interesting books on missions we have ever come across.... A thoroughly interesting and valuable book."--_Glasgow Herald._ CHILDREN OF BORNEO. By EDWIN H. GOMES, M.A. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth 1s 6d _net_ "Mr Gomes blends fact and legend in a positively delightful way. Some of the folk tales are as delightful as the stories of Hans Christian Andersen."--_Christian World._ CHILDREN OF JAMAICA. By Mrs ISABEL C. M'LEAN. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth extra 1s 6d _net_ CHILDREN OF JAPAN. By JANET HARVEY KELMAN, Author of "Children of India." (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth extra 1s 6d _net_ THE GIST OF JAPAN. The Islands; their People and Missions. By the Rev. R. B. PEERY, A.M., Ph.D. Large crown 8vo, art canvas, with eight full-page Illustrations 5s "This is an interesting and honest book, and its statements gain by its extreme candour, as well as palpable sincerity of the writer."--_Standard._ KOREAN SKETCHES. A Missionary's Observations in the Hermit Nation. By the Rev. JAMES S. GALE. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with eight Illustrations 3s 6d "The author of 'Korean Sketches' has gone in and out among the people for nine years. He has done so, moreover, as his book shows, in the kind of temper which qualifies a man to see what is best in a strange and very little understood race." IN AFRIC'S FOREST AND JUNGLE. By R. H. STONE. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, illustrated 3s 6d "A welcome contribution to missionary literature. The illustrations are numerous and good."--_Christian._ DAWN IN THE DARK CONTINENT. By JAMES STEWART, M.D., D.D., Lovedale. Demy 8vo, handsome binding, with nine Coloured Maps and Portrait of the Author 6s _net_ "We have no hesitation in saying that Dr Stewart's book will have permanent value as a standard history of African missions, and its excellent maps by Bartholomew give a praiseworthy completeness to its unity."--_Pall Mall Gazette._ DAYBREAK IN LIVINGSTONIA. The Story of the Livingstonia Mission, British Central Africa. By JAMES W. JACK, M.A. Revised, with an Introductory Chapter, by Rev. ROBERT LAWS, M.D., D.D. Large crown 8vo, canvas binding, with Map, a Plan of Livingstonia Institution, and many other Illustrations 5s "We have no hesitation in saying that this is one of the best missionary histories we have ever read."--_Glasgow Herald._ AN AFRICAN GIRL: The Story of Ma Eno. By BEATRICE W. WELSH, Missionary in Old Calabar. With eight full-page Illustrations. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra 1s 6d "This book is interestingly written, and will, we doubt not, go far to accomplish its object, which is to interest children--and others--in the children of Nigeria."--_The Outposts._ CALABAR AND ITS MISSION. By Rev. HUGH GOLDIE. New Edition, with Additional Chapters by the Rev. JOHN TAYLOR DEAN. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Map and fourteen new Illustrations 5s "Mr Goldie has an interesting story to tell of the place, of its people, and of the mission work that has been carried on there. It is a story which the opponents of missionary enterprise can hardly get over."--_Spectator._ AMONG THE WILD NGONI. Being Chapters from the History of the Livingstonia Mission in British Central Africa. By W. A. ELMSLIE, M.B., C.M., Medical Missionary. With an Introduction by LORD OVERTOUN. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with Illustrations and Portraits 3s 6d "In this volume he has at once done a real service to missions, and has made a most valuable and interesting addition to the fast-growing literature of Central Africa."--_The Times._ CHILDREN OF EGYPT. By L. CROWTHER, Old Cairo. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth 1s 6d _net_ THE ANGEL OPPORTUNITY. By JESSIE F. HOGG. Author of "The Story of the Calabar Mission." With Frontispiece from a Pencil Sketch by H. C. PRESTON MACGOUN, R.S.W. Crown 8vo, cloth extra 2s 6d This is the story of a missionary's family sent home for education, and is full of humorous and pathetic incidents, in the experience of a little girl, in her desire to discover and influence the home heathen among whom she found herself. DAVID LIVINGSTONE. By T. BANKS MACLACHLAN. Post 8vo, art canvas 1s _net_ "It has been an unmixed pleasure to read this life of David Livingstone. The book is interesting from first to last, and gives a vivid picture of a rare character."--_Madras Christian College Magazine._ MUNGO PARK. By T. BANKS MACLACHLAN. Post 8vo, art canvas 1s _net_ "We owe to Mr Maclachlan not only a charming life-story, if at times a pathetic one, but a vivid chapter in the romance of Africa. Geography has no more wonderful tale than that dealing with the unraveling of the mystery of the Niger."--_Leeds Mercury._ CHILDREN OF AFRICA. By JAMES B. BAIRD, Church of Scotland Mission, Blantyre, Author of "Nyono at School and at Home." (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth extra 1s 6d _net_ "Boys and girls who read what Mr Baird says will have a vivid picture of African life in their memories, and will see how blessed is the light the Gospel carries to their black sisters and brothers in the Dark Continent."--_Presbyterian Messenger._ AN ARTISAN MISSIONARY ON THE ZAMBESI. Being the Life Story of WILLIAM THOMSON WADDELL. By Rev. JOHN MACCONNACHIE, M.A. Large crown 8vo. illustrated 1s 6d _net_ "It is a moving account of unselfish heroism for the sake of Christ, and Mr MacConnachie has told it in a way that will impress the reader afresh with the splendid, unassuming courage of their rank and file in Christian missions."--_British Weekly._ ARABIA: The Cradle of Islam. By Rev. S. M. ZWEMER, F.R.G.S. Studies in the Geography, People, and Politics of the Peninsula; with an account of Islam and Missionary Work. Demy 8vo, canvas binding, with Maps and numerous Illustrations from Drawings and Photographs 7s 6d "The best book on Arabia from every point of view--scientific, literary, and missionary. It is well illustrated, especially by such maps as Ptolemy's, Niebuhr's, Palgrave's and plans of Mecca, Medina, besides maps of Arabia as it now is, and of the islands of Bahrein."--_The Scottish Geographical Magazine._ CHILDREN OF ARABIA. By the Rev. JOHN C. YOUNG, M.A., M.B., CM., SHEIKH OTHMAN, Aden. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with 8 Coloured Illustrations, cloth extra 1s 6d _net_ WITH THE TIBETANS IN TENT AND TEMPLE. Narrative of Four Years' Residence on the Tibetan Border and of a Journey into the Far Interior. By SUSIE CARSON RIJNHART, M.D. Large crown 8vo, cloth extra, gilt top, with fourteen Illustrations. Fourth Edition 6s CHILDREN OF PERSIA. By Mrs NAPIER MALCOLM. (The Children's Missionary Series.) Large crown 8vo, with eight Coloured Illustrations, cloth 1s 6d _net_ "A charming book for children. The life and surroundings of child-life in Persia are described with sympathy and insight. The young reader is carried through a very strange world of fascinating interest."--_Missionary Record of the U.F. Church of Scotland._ CONSTANTINOPLE AND ITS PROBLEMS. Its Peoples, Customs, Religions, and Progress. By HENRY OTIS DWIGHT, LL.D. Large crown 8vo, art linen, gilt top, with 12 Illustrations 6s JERUSALEM THE HOLY. A Brief History of Ancient Jerusalem; with an Account of the Modern City and its Conditions, Political, Religious, and Social. By EDWIN SHERMAN WALLACE. Demy 8vo, cloth extra, with 15 Illustrations and 4 Maps 7s 6d MISSIONS IN EDEN. By Mrs CROSBY H. WHEELER. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, illustrated 3s 6d "The pages unfold a story of devoted labour--educational, religious, and social--attended with encouraging results.... The book is to be commended as a singularly readable record of work in a field that commands much less than it deserves of prayerful interest and support."--_Christian._ THE CROSS OF CHRIST IN BOLO LAND. A Record of Missionary Effort in the Philippines. By JOHN MARVIN DEAN, Crown 8vo, illustrated 3s 6d "This book should be widely read throughout the country. It is worth more than a bale of newspaper print. The author is a competent and credible witness of what he has seen in the Philippines. He has done good service there."--_The Outlook._ WITNESSES FROM ISRAEL. Life Stories of Jewish Converts to Christianity. Edited by Rev. ARNOLD FRANK, Hamburg. Translated from the German by Mrs A. FLEMING, with Recommendatory Note by Rev. PROFESSOR NICOL, D.D., Convener of the Jewish Committee of the Church of Scotland. Crown 8vo, cloth extra 1s 6d THE TRANSFORMATION OF HAWAII: How Fifty Years of Mission Work gave a Christian Nation to the World. Told for Young People. By BELLE M. BRAIN. Crown 8vo, art linen, illustrated 3s 6d "Much is said against missions, sometimes in ignorance, sometimes from mistaken conviction, and not seldom, it is to be feared, from dislike of Christian morality; but the contrast between the Hawaii which Cook discovered, and still more the Hawaii of forty odd years of relations with white visitors, before the missionaries came, and the Hawaii of 1870, is not lightly to be put aside."--_Spectator._ SIGN OF THE CROSS IN MADAGASCAR. By the Rev. J. J. KILPIN FLETCHER, Crown 8vo, cloth extra, with numerous Illustrations 3s 6d "To many readers the story of the evangelisation of Madagascar is a new one, but if they will add this charming book to their missionary library, they will then know the wonderful story of the work of God in these islands."--_Illustrated Missionary News._ PERSIAN LIFE AND CUSTOMS. With Scenes and Incidents of Residence and Travel in the Land of the Lion and the Sun. By S. G. WILSON, M.A., Fifteen Years a Missionary in Persia. Second Edition, demy 8vo, cloth decorated, gilt top, with Map and Illustrations 7s 6d "Mr Wilson writes without national or religious bias. He has not only studied Persia, but has lived for fifteen years in it; and while well acquainted with the literature of his subject, he contents himself with giving, with excellent care and judgment, his own experiences and opinions of a country which, notwithstanding the changes of recent years, continues to be socially, as well as politically, one of the most fascinating in Asia."--_Scotsman._ CHRISTIAN MISSIONS AND SOCIAL PROGRESS. A Sociological Study of Foreign Missions. By the Rev. JAMES S. DENNIS, D.D., Author of "Foreign Missions after a Century." In 3 volumes, royal 8vo, cloth extra. Vol. I., with upwards of 100 full-page reproductions of Original Photographs, price 10s _net_. Vol. II., with 80 do., price 10s _net_. 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Demy 8vo, cloth extra, with Portrait and Maps 10s 6d "It is a noble book, powerfully written, and throbbing with the spirit of zeal and devotion, a book that must be read by all who desire to master the missionary problem, to understand it in the past, and to be prepared for its future evolution and development in the world."--_Methodist Magazine and Review._ A HISTORY OF PROTESTANT MISSIONS IN THE NEAR EAST. By JULIUS RICHTER, D.D., Author of "A History of Protestant Missions in India." Demy 8vo, cloth extra 10s 6d "This book on Missions in the Near East should be in every missionary library. It is comprehensive, well informed, and fair, and is written with spiritual insight."--_U.F.C. Monthly Record._ THE EXPLORATION OF EGYPT AND THE OLD TESTAMENT. A Summary of Results obtained by Exploration in Egypt up to the Present Time, with a fuller account of those bearing on the Old Testament. By J. 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2564	----	Wanderings Among South Sea Savages And in Borneo and the Philippines By H. Wilfrid Walker Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society With forty-eight plates from photographs by the author and others London Witherby & Co. 1909 To My brother Charles This record of my wanderings in which he took so deep an interest, is affectionately dedicated. PREFACE In a book of this kind it is often the custom to begin by making apologies. In my case I feel it to be a sheer necessity. In the first place what is here printed is for the greater part copied word for word from private letters that I wrote in very simple language in Dayak or Negrito huts, or in the lonely depths of tropical forests, in the far-off islands of the Southern Seas. I purposely made my letters home as concise as possible, so that they could be easily read, and in consequence have left out much that might have been interesting. It is almost unnecessary to mention that when I wrote these letters I had no thought whatever of writing a book. If I had thought of doing so, I might have mentioned more about the customs, ornaments and weapons of the natives and have written about several other subjects in greater detail. As it is, a cursory glance will show that this book has not the slightest pretence of being "scientific." Far from its being so, I have simply related a few of the more interesting incidents, such as would give a _general impression_ of my life among savages, during my wanderings in many parts of the world, extending over nearly a score of years. I should like to have written more about my wanderings in North Borneo, as well as in Samoa and Celebes and various other countries, but the size of the book precludes this. My excuse for publishing this book is that certain of my relatives have begged me to do so. Though I was for the greater part of the time adding to my own collections of birds and butterflies, I have refrained as much as possible from writing on these subjects for fear that they might prove tedious to the general reader. I have also touched but lightly on the general customs of the people, as this book is not for the naturalist or ethnologist, nor have I made any special study of the languages concerned, but have simply jotted down the native words here used exactly as I heard them. As regards the photographs, some of them were taken by myself while others were given me by friends whom I cannot now trace. In a few cases I have no note from whom they were got, though I feel sure they were not from anyone who would object to their publication. In particular, I may mention Messrs. G. R. Lambert, Singapore; John Waters, Suva, Fiji; Kerry & Co., Sydney; and G. O. Manning, New Guinea. To these and all others who have helped me I now tender my heartiest thanks. I have met with so much help and kindness during my wanderings from Government officials and others that if I were here to mention all, the list would be a large one. I shall therefore have to be content with only mentioning the principal names of those in the countries I have here written about. In Fiji:--Messrs. Sutherland, John Waters, and McOwan. In New Guinea:--Sir Francis Winter, Mr. C. A. W. Monckton, R.M., The Hon. A. Musgrave, Capt. Barton, Mr. Guy O. Manning, and Dr. Vaughan. In the Philippines:--Governor Taft, afterwards President of the United States, and Mr. G. d'E. Browne. In British North Borneo:--Messrs. H. Walker, Richardson, Paul Brietag, F. Durége, J. H. Molyneux, and Dr. Davies. In Sarawak:--H.H. The Rajah, Sir Charles Brooke, Sir Percy Cunninghame, Dr. Hose, Archdeacon Sharpe, Mr. R. Shelford, and the officials of The Borneo Company, Ltd. To all of these and many others in other countries I take this opportunity of publicly tendering my cordial thanks for their unfailing kindness and hospitality to a wanderer in strange lands. H. Wilfrid Walker. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS _Frontispiece_--Belles of Papua. A Chief's Daughter and a Daughter of the People A "Meke-Meke," or Fijian Girls' Dance Interior of a large Fijian Hut A Fijian Mountaineer's House At the Door of a Fijian House A Fijian Girl Spearing Fish in Fiji A Fijian Fisher Girl A Posed Picture of an old-time Cannibal Feast in Fiji Making Fire by Wood Friction An Old ex-Cannibal A Fijian War-Dance Adi Cakobau (pronounced "Andi Thakombau"), the highest Princess in Fiji, at her house at Navuso A Filipino Dwelling A Village Street in the Philippines A River Scene in the Philippines A Negrito Family Negrito Girls (showing Shaved Head at back) A Negrito Shooting Tree Climbing by Negritos A Negrito Dance Arigita and his Wife Three Cape Nelson Kaili-Kailis in War Attire Kaili-Kaili House on the edge of a Precipice "A Great Joke" A Ghastly Relic Cannibal Trophies A Woman and her Baby A Papuan Girl The Author with Kaili-Kaili Followers Wives of Native Armed Police A Papuan Damsel Busimaiwa, the great Mambare Chief, with his Wife and Son (in the Police) A Haunt of the Bird of Paradise The Author starting on an Expedition A New Guinea River Scene Papuan Tree-Houses A Village of the Agai Ambu H. W. Walker, L. Dyke-Acland, and C. A. W. Monckton View of Kuching from the Rajah's Garden Dayaks and Canoes Dayak in War-Coat Dayak Women and Children on the Platform outside a long House Dayaks Catching Fish A Dayak Woman with Mourning Ornaments round waist On a Tobacco Estate On a Bornean River PART I Life in the Home of a Fijian Prince. CHAPTER I Life in the Home of a Fijian Prince. Journey to Taviuni--Samoan Songs--Whistling for the Wind--Landing on Koro--Nabuna--Samoans and Fijians Compared--Fijian Dances and Angona Drinking--A Hurricane in the Southern Seas--Arrival at Taviuni--First Impressions of Ratu Lala's Establishment--Character of Ratu Lala--Prohibition of Cricket--Ratu Lala Offended--The Prince's Musical Box. Among all my wanderings in Fiji I think I may safely say that my two months' stay with Ratu (Prince) Lala, on the island of Taviuni, ranks highest both for interest and enjoyment. As I look back on my life with this great Fijian prince and his people, it all somehow seems unreal and an existence far apart from the commonplace life of civilization. When I was in Suva (the capital) the colonial secretary gave me a letter of introduction to Ratu Lala, and so one morning I sailed from Suva on an Australian steamer, taking with me my jungle outfit and a case of whisky, the latter a present for the Prince,--and a more acceptable present one could not have given him. After a smooth passage we arrived the same evening at Levuka, on the island of Ovalau. After a stay of a day here, I sailed in a small schooner which carried copra from several of the Outlying islands to Levuka. Her name was the _Lurline,_ and her captain was a Samoan, whilst his crew was made up of two Samoans and four Fijians. The captain seemed to enjoy yelling at his men in the Fijian language, with a strong flavouring of English "swear words," and spoke about the Fijians in terms of utter contempt, calling them "d----d cannibals." The cabin wag a small one with only two bunks, and swarmed with green beetles and cockroaches. Our meals were all taken together on deck, and consisted of yams, ship's biscuit and salt junk. We had a grand breeze to start with, but toward evening it died down and we lay becalmed. All hands being idle, the Samoans spent the time in singing the catchy songs of Samoa, most of which I was familiar with from my long stay in those islands, and their delight was great when I joined in. About midnight a large whale floated calmly alongside, not forty yards from our little schooner, and we trembled to think what would happen if it was at all inclined to be playful. We whistled all the next day for a breeze, but our efforts were not a success until toward evening, when we were rewarded in a very liberal manner, and arrived after dark at the village of Cawa Lailai, [1] on the island of Koro. On our landing quite a crowd of wild-looking men and women, all clad only in sulus, met us on the beach. Although it is a large island, there is only one white man on it, and he far away from here, so no doubt I was an interesting object. I put up at the hut of the "Buli" or village chief, and after eating a dish of smoking yams, I was soon asleep, in spite of the mosquitoes. It dawned a lovely morning and I was soon afoot to view my surroundings. It was a beautiful village, surrounded by pretty woods on all sides, and I saw and heard plenty of noisy crimson and green parrots everywhere. I also learnt that a few days previously there had been a wholesale marriage ceremony, when nearly all the young men and women had been joined in matrimony. Taking a guide with me, I walked across the island till I came to the village of Nabuna, [2] on the other coast, the _Lurline_ meanwhile sailing around the island. It was a hard walk, up steep hills and down narrow gorges, and then latterly along the coast beneath the shade of the coconuts. Fijian bridges are bad things to cross, being long trunks of trees smoothed off on the surface and sometimes very narrow, and I generally had to negotiate them by sitting astride and working myself along with my hands. In the village of Nabuna lived the wife and four daughters of the Samoan captain. He told me he had had five wives before, and when I asked if they were all dead, he replied that they were still alive, but he had got rid of them as they were no good. The daughters were all very pretty girls, especially the youngest, a little girl of nine years old. I always think that the little Samoan girls, with their long wavy black hair, are among the prettiest children in the world. We had an excellent supper of native oysters, freshwater prawns and eels, fish, chicken, and many other native dishes. That evening a big Fijian dance ("meke-meke"), was given in my honour. Two of the captain's daughters took part in it. The girls sit down all the time in a row, and wave their hands and arms about and sing in a low key and in frightful discord. It does not in any way come up to the very pretty "siva-siva" dancing of the Samoans, and the Fiji dance lacks variety. There is a continual accompaniment of beating with sticks on a piece of wood. All the girls decorate themselves with coloured leaves, and their bodies, arms and legs glisten as in Samoa with coconut-oil, really a very clean custom in these hot countries, though it does not look prepossessing. Our two Samoans in the crew were most amusing; they came in dressed up only in leaves, and took off the Fijians to perfection with the addition of numerous extravagant gestures. I laughed till my sides ached, but the Fijians never even smiled. However, our Samoans gave them a bit of Samoan "siva-siva" and plenty of Samoan songs, and it was amusing to see the interest the Fijians took in them. It was, of course, all new to them. I drank plenty of "angona," that evening. It is offered you in a different way in Samoa. In Fiji, the man or girl, who hands you the coconut-shell cup on bended knee, crouches at your feet till you have finished. In Fijian villages a sort of crier or herald goes round the houses every night crying the orders for the next day in a loud resonant voice, and at once all talking ceases in the hut outside which he happens to be. The next two days it blew a regular hurricane, and the captain dared not venture out to sea, our schooner lying safely at anchor inside the coral reef. I have not space to describe my stay here, but it proved most enjoyable, and the captain's pretty Samoan daughters gave several "meke-mekes" (Fijian dances) in my honour, and plenty of "angona" was indulged in, and what with feasts, native games and first-class fishing inside the coral reef, the time passed all too quickly. I called on the "Buli" or village chief, with the captain. He was a boy of fifteen, and seemed a very bashful youth. We sailed again about five a.m. on the third morning, as the storm seemed to be dying down and the captain was anxious to get on. We had not gone far, however, before the gale increased in fury until it turned into a regular hurricane. First our foresheet was carried away; this was followed by our staysail, and things began to look serious, in fact, most unpleasantly so. The captain almost seemed to lose his head, and cursed loud and long. He declared that he had been a fool to put out to sea before the storm had gone down, and the _Lurline,_ being an old boat, could not possibly last in such a storm, and added that we should all be drowned. This was not pleasant news, and as the cabin was already half-full of water, and we expected each moment to be our last, I remained on deck for ten weary hours, clinging like grim death to the ropes, while heavy seas dashed over me, raking the little schooner fore and aft. Toward evening, however, the wind subsided considerably, which enabled us to get into the calm waters of the Somo-somo Channel between the islands of Vanua Levu and Taviuni. The wreckage was put to rights temporarily, the Samoans, who had previously made up their minds that they were going to be drowned, burst forth into their native songs, and we broke our long fast of twenty-four hours, as we had eaten nothing since the previous evening. It was an experience I am not likely to forget, as it was the worst storm I have ever been in, if I except the terrible typhoon of October, 1903, off Japan, when I was wrecked and treated as a Russian spy. On this occasion a large Japanese fishing fleet was entirely destroyed. I was, of course, soaked to the skin and got badly bruised, and was once all but washed overboard, one of the Fijians catching hold of me in the nick of time. We cast anchor for the night, though we had only a few miles yet to go, but this short distance took us eight or nine hours next day, as this channel is nearly always calm. We had light variable breezes, and tacked repeatedly, but gained ground slowly. These waters seemed full of large turtles, and we passed them in great numbers. We overhauled a large schooner, and on hailing them, the captain, a white man, came on deck. He would hardly believe that we had been all through the storm. He said that he had escaped most of it by getting inside the coral reef round Vanua Levu, but even during the short time he had been out in the storm, he had had to throw the greater part of his cargo overboard. From the way he spoke, he had evidently been drinking, possibly trying to forget his lost cargo. Before I left Fiji I heard that the _Lurline_ had gone to her last berth. She was driven on to a coral reef in a bad storm off the coast of Taviuni. The captain seemed to stand in much fear of Ratu Lala. He told me many thrilling yarns about him; said he robbed his people badly, and added that he did not think that I would get on well with him, and would soon be anxious to leave. I landed at the large village of Somo-somo, glad to be safely on _terra firma_ once more. It was a pretty village, with a large mountain torrent dashing over the rocks in the middle of it. The huts were dotted about irregularly on a natural grass lawn, and large trees, clumps of bamboo, coconuts, bread-fruit trees, and bright-coloured "crotons" added a great deal to the picturesqueness of the village. At the back the wooded hills towered up to a height of nearly 4,000 feet, and white streaks amid the mountain woods showed where many a fine waterfall tumbled over rocky precipices. Ratu Lala lived in a wooden house, built for him (as "Roko" for Taviuni), by the government, on the top of a hill overlooking the village, and thither on landing I at once made my way. I found the Prince slowly recovering from an attack of fever, and lying on a heap of mats (which formed his bed) on the floor of his own private room, which, however, greatly resembled an old curiosity shop. Everything was in great disorder, and piles of London Graphics and other papers littered the ground, and on the tables were piled indiscriminately clocks, flasks, silver cups, fishing rods, guns, musical boxes, and numerous other articles which I discovered later on were presents from high officials and other Europeans, and which he did not know what to do with. Nearly every window in the house had a pane of glass [3] broken, the floors were devoid of mats or carpets, and in places were rotten and full of holes. This will give some idea of the state of chaos that reigned in the Prince's "palace." Ratu Lala himself was a tall, broad-shouldered man of about forty, his hair slightly grey, with a bristly moustache and a very long sloping forehead. Though dignified, he wore an extremely fierce expression, so much so that I instinctively felt his subjects had good cause to treat him with the respect and fear that I had heard they gave him. He belongs to the Fijian royal family, and though he does not rank as high as his cousin, Ratu Kandavu Levu, whom I also visited at Bau, he is infinitely more powerful, and owns more territory. His father was evidently a "much married man" since Ratu Lala himself told me that he had had "exactly three hundred wives." But in spite of this he had been a man of prowess, as the Fijians count it, and I received as a present from Ratu Lala a very heavy hardwood war-club that had once belonged to his father, and which, he assured me, had killed a great many people. Ratu Lala also told me that he himself had offered to furnish one hundred warriors to help the British during the last Egyptian war, but that the government had declined his offer. One of the late Governors of Fiji, Sir John Thurston, was once his guardian and, godfather. He was educated for two years in Sydney, Australia, and spoke English well, though in a very thick voice. Not only does he hold sway over the island of Taviuni, but also over some smaller islands and part of the large island of Vanua Levu. He also holds the rank of "Roko" from the government, for which he is well paid. After reading my letter of introduction he asked me to stay as long as I liked, and he called his head servant and told him to find me a room. This servant's name was Tolu, and as he spoke English fairly well, I soon learned a great deal about Ratu Lala and his people. Ratu Lala was married to a very high-caste lady who was closely related to the King of Tonga, and several of whose relatives accompanied us on our expeditions. By her he had two small children named Tersi (boy) and Moe (girl), both of whom, during my stay (as will hereafter appear) were sent to school at Suva, amid great lamentations on the part of the women of Ratu Lala's household. Two months before my visit Ratu Lala had lost his eldest daughter (by his Tongan wife). She was twelve years old, and a favourite of his, and her grave was on a bluff below the house, under a kind of tent, hung round with fluttering pieces of "tapa" cloth. Spread over it was a kind of gravel of bright green Stones which he had had brought from a long distance. Little Moe and Tersi were always very interested in watching me skin my birds, and their exclamation of what sounded like "Esa!" ("Oh look!") showed their enjoyment. They were two of the prettiest little children I think I have ever seen, but they did not know a word of English, and called me "Misi Walk." They and their mother always took their meals sitting on mats in the verandah. Ratu Lala had two grown-up daughters by other wives, but they never came to the house, living in an adjoining hut where I often joined them at a game of cards. They were both very stately and beautiful young women, with a haughty bearing which made me imagine that they were filled with a sense of their own importance. As is well known all over Fiji, Ratu Lala, a few years before my stay with him, had been deported in disgrace for a term of several months, to the island of Viti Levu, where he would be under the paternal eye of the government. This was because he had punished a woman, who had offended him, by pegging her down on an ants' nest, first smearing her all over with honey, so that the ants would the more readily eat her. [4] She recovered afterwards, but was badly eaten. As regards his punishment, he told me that he greatly enjoyed his exile, as he had splendid fishing, and some of the white people sent him champagne. His people were terribly afraid of him, and whenever they passed him as he sat on his verandah, they would almost go down on all fours. He told me how on one occasion when he was sitting on the upper verandah of the Club Hotel in Suva with two of his servants squatting near by, the whisky he had drunk had made him feel so sleepy, that he nearly fell into the street below, but his servants dared not lay hands on him to pull him back into safety, as his body was considered sacred by his people, and they dared not touch him. He declared to me that he would have been killed if a white man had not arrived just in time. He was very fond of telling me this story, and always laughed heartily over it. I noticed that Ratu Lala's servants treated me with a great deal of respect, and whenever they passed me in the house they would walk in a crouching attitude, with their heads almost touching the ground. Ratu Lala's cousin, Ratu Kandavu Levu, is a very enthusiastic cricketer, and has a very good cricket club with a pavilion at his island of Bau. He plays many matches against the white club in Suva, and only last year he took an eleven over to Australia to tour that country. I learned that previous to my visit he had paid a visit to Ratu Lala, and while there had got up a match at Somo-somo in which he induced Ratu Lala to play, but on Ratu Lala being given out first ball for nought, he (Ratu Lala) pulled up the stumps and carried them off the ground, and henceforth forbade any of his people to play the game on the island of Taviuni. I was not aware of this, and as I had brought a bat and ball with me, I got up several games shortly after my arrival. However, one evening all refused to play, but gave no reasons for their refusal, but Tolu told me that his master did not like to have them play. Then I learned the reason, and from that time I noticed a decided coolness on the part of Ratu Lala toward me. The fact, no doubt, is that Ratu Lala being exceptionally keen on sport, this very keenness made him impatient of defeat, or even of any question as to a possible want of success on his part, as I afterwards learnt on our expedition to Ngamia. I intended upon leaving Taviuni to return to Levuka, and from thence go by cutter to the island of Vanua Levu, and journey up the Wainunu River, plans which I ultimately carried out. Ratu Lala, however, wished me to proceed in his boat straight across to the island of Vanua Levu, and walk across a long stretch of very rough country to the Wainunu River. My only objection was that I had a large and heavy box, which I told Ratu Lala I thought was too large to be carried across country. He at once flew into a violent passion and declared that I spoke as if I considered he was no prince. "For," said he, "if ten of my subjects cannot carry your box I command one hundred to do so, and if one hundred of my subjects cannot carry your box I tell fifteen thousand of my subjects to do so." When I tried to picture fifteen thousand Fijians carrying my wretched box, it was altogether too much for my sense of humour, and I burst forth into a hearty roar of laughter, which so incensed the Prince that he shut himself up in his own room during the few remaining days of my stay. He had a musical box, which he was very fond of, and he had a man to keep it going at all hours of the day and night. It played four tunes, among them "The Village Blacksmith," "Strolling 'Round the Town," and "Who'll Buy my Herrings" till at times they nearly drove me frantic, especially when I wanted to write or sleep. Night after night the tunes followed each other in regular routine till I thought I should get them on the brain. How he could stand it was a puzzle to me, especially as he had possessed it for many years. I often blessed the European who gave it him, and wished he could take my place. Whenever a man wished to speak to Ratu Lala he would crouch at his feet and softly clap his hands, and sometimes Ratu Lala would wait several minutes before he deigned to notice him. CHAPTER II My Further Adventures with Ratu Lala. Fijian Huts--Abundance of Game and Fish--Methods of Capture--A Fijian Practical Joke--Fijian Feasts--Fun after Dinner--A Court Jester in Fiji--Drinking, Dress, and Methods of Mourning--A Bride's Ringlets--Expedition to Vuna--Tersi and Moe Journey to School--Their Love of Sweets--Rough Reception of Visitors to Vuna--Wonderful Fish Caught--Exhibition of Surf-board Swimming by Women--Impressive Midnight Row back to Taviuni--A Fijian Farewell. In comparison with Samoan huts, the Fijian huts were very comfortable, though they are not half as airy, Samoan huts being very open; but in most of the Fijian huts I visited the only openings were the doors, and, as can be imagined, the interior was rather dark and gloomy. In shape they greatly resembled a haystack, the sides being composed of grass or bunches of leaves, more often the latter. They are generally built on a platform of rocks, with doors upon two or more sides, according to the size of the hut; and a sloping sort of rough plank with notches on it leads from the ground to each door. In the interior, the sides of the walls are often beautifully lined with the stems of reeds, fashioned very neatly, and in some cases in really artistic patterns, and tied together with thin ropes of coconut fibre, dyed various colours, and often ornamented with rows of large white cowry shells. The floor of these huts is much like a springy mattress, being packed to a depth of several feet with palm and other leaves, and on the top are strips of native mats permanently fastened, whereas in Samoa the floor is made up of small pieces of brittle white coral, over which are loose mats, which can be moved at will. In Fijian huts there is always a sort of raised platform at one end of the hut, on which are piles of the best native mats, and, being the guest, I generally got this to myself. The roof inside is very finely thatched, the beams being of "Niu sau," a native palm, [5] the cross-pieces and main supports being enormous bits of hard wood. The smaller supports of the sides are generally the trunks of tree-ferns. The doors in most of the huts are a strip of native matting or fantastically-painted "tapa" cloth, fastened to two posts a few feet inside the hut. In some huts there are small openings in the walls which answer for windows. The hearth was generally near one of the doors in the centre of the hut, and fire was produced by rubbing a piece of hard wood on a larger piece of soft wood, and working it up and down in a groove till a spark was produced. I have myself successfully employed this method when out shooting green pigeon ("rupe") in the mountains. With regard to food, I at first fared very well, although we had our meals at all hours, as Ratu Lala was very irregular in his habits. Our chief food was turtle. We had it so often that I soon loathed the taste of it. The turtles, when brought up from the sea were laid on their backs under a tree close by the house, and there the poor brutes were left for days together. Ratu Lala's men often brought in a live wild pig, which they captured with the aid of their dogs. At other times they would run them down and spear them; this was hard and exciting work, as I myself found on several occasions that I went pig hunting. One of the most remarkable things that I saw in Taviuni, from a sporting point of view, was the heart of a wild pig, which, when killed, was found to have lived with the broken point of a wooden spear fully four inches in length buried in the very centre of its heart. It had evidently lived for many years afterwards, and a curious kind of growth had formed round the point. As for other game, every time I went out in the mountain woods I had splendid sport with the wild chickens or jungle fowl and pigeons, and I would often return with my guide bearing a long pole loaded at both ends with the birds I had shot. The pigeons, which were large birds, settled on the tops of the tallest trees and made a very peculiar kind of growling noise. Many years ago (as Ratu Lala told me) the natives of Taviuni had been in the habit of catching great quantities of pigeons by means of large nets suspended from the trees. The chickens would generally get up like a pheasant, and it was good sport taking a snap shot at an old cock bird on the wing. It was curious to hear them crowing away in the depths of the forest, and at first I kept imagining that I was close to some village. I also obtained some good duck shooting on a lake high up in the mountains, and Ratu Lala described to me what must be a species of apteryx, or wingless bird (like the Kiwi of New Zealand), which he said was found in the mountains and lived in holes in the ground, but I never came across it, though I had many a weary search. Ratu Lala also assured me that the wild chickens were indigenous in Fiji, and were not descended from the domestic fowl. We had plenty of fish, both salt and fresh water, and the mountain streams were full of large fish, which Ratu Lala, who is a keen fisherman, caught with the fly or grasshoppers. He sometimes caught over one hundred in a day, some of them over three pounds in weight. The streams were also full of huge eels and large prawns, and a kind of oyster was abundant in the sea, so what with wild pig, wild chickens, pigeons, turtles, oysters, prawns, crabs, eels, and fish of infinite variety, we fared exceedingly well. Oranges, lemons, limes, large shaddocks, "kavika," and other wild fruits were plentiful everywhere. During my stay here in August and September the climate was delightful, and it was remarkably cool for the tropics. I often accompanied Ratu Lala on his fishing excursions, and he would often recount to me many of his escapades. On one occasion he told me that he had put a fish-hook through the lip of his jester, a little old man of the name of Stivani, and played him about with rod and reel like a fish, and had made him swim about in the water until he had tired him out, and then he added, "I landed the finest fish I ever got." I added a good many interesting birds to my collection during my stay here, among them a dove of intense orange colour, one of the most striking birds I have ever seen. Plant life here was exceedingly beautiful and interesting, especially high up in the mountains, palms, _pandanus,_ cycads, crotons, _acalyphas, loranths,_ aroids, _freycinetias,_ ferns and orchids being strongly represented, and among the latter may be mentioned a fine orange _dendrobium_ and a pink _calanthe._ I found in flower a celebrated creeper, which Ratu Lala had told me to look out for. It had very showy red, white and blue flowers, and in the old days Ratu Lala told me that the Tongan people would come over in their canoes all the way from the Tonga Islands, nearly four hundred miles away, simply to get this flower for their dances, and when gathered, it would last a very long time without fading. I tried to learn the traditions about this flower, but Ratu Lala either did not know of any or else he was not anxious to tell me about them. The coastal natives, like most South Sea Islanders, were splendid swimmers, but, so far as I was concerned, it was dangerous work bathing in the sea here, as man-eating sharks were very numerous, and during my stay I saw a Fijian carried ashore with both his legs bitten clean off. Usually, when out on expeditions, we occupied the "Buli's" hut and lived on the fat of the land. At meal times quite a procession of men and women, glistening all over with coconut oil, would enter our hut bearing all sorts of native food, including fish in great variety, yams, octopus, turtle, sucking-pig, chicken, prawns, etc. They were brought in on banana and other large leaves, and we, of course, ate them with our fingers. Good as the food undoubtedly was, I was always glad when the meal was over, as it is very far from comfortable to sit with your legs doubled up under you. Afterwards I could hardly stand up straight, owing to cramp. I found it especially trying in Samoa, where one had to sit in this manner for hours during feasts, "kava"-drinking and "siva-sivas" (dances). Sometimes a glistening damsel would fan us with a large fan made out of the leaf of a fan palm, [6] which at times got rather in the way. I never got waited on better in my life. Directly I had finished one course a dozen girls were ready to hand me other dishes, and when I wanted a drink a girl immediately handed me a cup made out of the half-shell of a coconut filled with a kind of soup. We generally had an audience of fully fifty people, and when we had finished eating, a wooden bowl of water was handed to us in which to wash our hands. Ratu Lala would generally hand the bowl to me first, and I would wash my hands in silence, but directly he started to wash his hands, everyone present, including chiefs and attendants, would start clapping their hands in even time, then one man would utter a deep and prolonged "Ah-h," when the crowd would all shout together what sounded like "Ai on dwah," followed by more even clapping. I never learned what the words meant. In this respect Ratu Lala was most curiously secretive, and always evaded questions. Whenever he took a drink, a clapping of hands made me aware of the fact. One day, when they had chanted after a meal as usual, Ratu Lala turned around to me and mimicked the way his jester or clown repeated it, and there was a general laugh. This jester, whose name was Stivani, was a little old man who was also jester to Ratu Lala's father. Ratu Lala had given him the nickname of "Punch," and made him do all sorts of ridiculous things--sing and dance and go through various contortions dressed up in bunches of "croton" leaves. He kept us all much amused, and was the life and soul of our party, but at times I caught the old fellow looking very weary and sad, as if he was tired of his office as jester. The "angona" root (_Piper methysticum_) is first generally pounded, but is sometimes grated, and more rarely chewed by young maidens. It is then mixed with water in a large wooden bowl, and the remains of the root drawn out with a bunch of fibrous material. It is then ready for drinking. On gala and festal occasions the Fijians were wonderfully and fantastically dressed up, their huge heads of hair thickly covered with a red or yellow powder, and they themselves wearing large skirts or "sulus" of coloured "tapa" and _pandanus_ ribbons and necklaces of coloured seeds, shells, and pigs'-tusks. In out-of-the-way parts the "sulus" are still made of "tapa" cloth, and the women sometimes wear small fibrous aprons. They also often wear wild pigs'-tusks round their necks. I noticed that many Fijian women were tattooed on the hands and arms, and at each corner of the mouth (a deep blue colour). Both men and women gave themselves severe wounds about the body, generally as a sign of grief on the death of some near relative. I once noticed a young girl of sixteen or seventeen with a very bad unhealed wound below one of her breasts, which was self-inflicted. Her father, a chief, had died only a short time previously. They often also cut off the little finger for similar reasons. Like the Samoans, the Fijians often cover their hair with white lime, and the effect of the sun bleaches the hair and changes it from black to a light gold or brown colour. A marriageable young lady in Fiji would generally have a great quantity of long braided ringlets hanging down on _one_ side of her head. This looked odd, considering that the rest of her hair was erect or frizzly. It was a great insult to have these ringlets cut. I heard of it once being done by a white planter, and great trouble and fighting were the result. I accompanied Ratu Lala on several expeditions to various parts of the island, and we also visited several smaller islands within his dominions. On these occasions we always took possession of the "Buli's," or village chief's, hut, turning him out, and feeding on all the delicacies the village could produce. After we had practically eaten them out of house and home we would move on and take possession of another village. The inhabitants did not seem to mind this; in fact, they seemed to enjoy our visit, as it was an excuse for big feasts, "meke-mekes" (dances) and "angona" drinking. One of the most enjoyable expeditions that I made with Ratu Lala was to Vuna, about twenty miles away to the south. A small steamer, the _Kia Ora,_ which made periodical visits to the island to collect the government taxes in copra, arrived one day in the bay. Ratu Lala thought this would be a good opportunity for us to make a fishing expedition to Vuna. We went on board the steamer while our large boat was towed behind. At the same time Ratu Lala's two little children, Moe and Tersi, started off, in charge of Ratu Lala's Tongan wife and other women, to be educated in Suva. It was the first time they had ever left home, but I agreed with Ratu Lala, that it was time they went, as they did not know a word of English, and, for the matter of that, neither did his Tongan wife. When we all arrived at the beach to get into the boat, we found a large crowd, chiefly women, sitting on the ground, and as Ratu Lala walked past them, they greeted him with a kind of salutation which they chanted as with one voice. I several times asked him what it meant, but he always evaded the question somehow, and seemed too modest to tell me. I came to the conclusion that it ran something like "Hail, most noble prince, live for ever." The next minute all the women started to howl as if at a given signal, and they looked pictures of misery. Several of them waded out into the sea and embraced little Tersi and Moe. This soon set the children crying as well, so that I almost began to fear that the combined tears would sink our boat. Their old grandmother waded out into the sea up to her neck and stayed there, and we could hear her howling long after we had got on board the steamer. When we got into Ratu Lala's boat at Vuna there was another very affecting farewell. Some months later when I returned to Suva, I asked a young chief, Ratu Pope, to show me where they were at school, and I found them at a small kindergarten for the children of the Europeans in Suva. They seemed quite glad to see their old friend again, and still more so when I promised to bring them some lollies (the term used for sweets in Australasia) that afternoon. When I returned I witnessed a pretty and interesting sight The two little children were standing out in the school yard while several Fijian men and women of noble families who had been paying the little prince and princess a visit, were just taking their leave. It was a curious sight to see these old people go in turn up to these two little mites and go down on their knees and kiss their little hands reverently in silence. All this homage seemed to bore the small high-born ones, and hardly was the ceremony over when they caught sight of me, and, rushing toward me with cries of "Misi Walk siandra, lollies," they nearly knocked over some of their visitors, who no doubt were greatly scandalized at such undignified behaviour. To return to our visit to Vuna. Sometime previously, Ratu Lala had warned me that whenever he landed at this place with a visitor it was an old custom for the women to catch the visitor and throw him into the sea from the top of a small rocky cliff. To this I raised serious objections, but arrayed myself in very old thin clothes ready for the fray. However, upon landing, very much on the alert, I was agreeably surprised to find that the women left me alone. Yet in part Ratu Lala's story was true, as he assured me that quite recently he had been forced to put a stop to the custom, as one of his last visitors was a European of much importance who was greatly incensed at such treatment, and complained to the government, who told Ratu Lala that the custom must end. We came to fish, and fish we did, just off the coral reef, but it would take space to describe even one-half of the curious and beautiful fish we caught. When I took the lead in the number of fish caught, Ratu Lala seemed greatly annoyed, and I was not sorry to let him get ahead, when he was soon in a good temper again. The Fijians generally fished with nets and a many-pronged fish-spear, with which they are very expert, and I saw them do wonderful work with them. They also used long wicker-work traps. Ratu Lala, on the contrary, being half-civilized, used an English rod and reel or line like a white man. Ratu Lala told the women here to give an exhibition of surf-board swimming for my benefit. As they rode into shore on the crest of a wave I many times expected to see them dashed against the rocks which fringed the coast. I had seen the natives in Hawaii perform seventeen years before, but it was tame in comparison to the wonderful performances of these Fijian women on this dangerous rock-girt coast. A great many "meke-mekes" or dances were got up in our honour, but Ratu Lala detested them, and rarely attended, but preferred staying in the "Buli's" hut, lying on the floor smoking or sleeping. He, however, always begged me to attend them in his place. After a time I found the performances rather wearisome, and not nearly so varied and interesting as the "siva-sivas" in Samoa. There the girls sang in soft, pleasing voices, the words being full of liquid vowels. Here in Fiji the singing was harsh and discordant, as k's and r's abound in the language. When it came to the ceremony of drinking "angona" I worthily did my part of the performance. Drinking "angona" is a taste not easily acquired, but when one has once got used to it, there is not a more refreshing drink, and I speak from long experience. In Fiji I was often presented with a large "angona" root, but it would be considered exceedingly bad form did you not return it to the giver and tell him to have it at once prepared for himself and his people, you yourself, of course, taking part in the drinking ceremony. After a stay of several days at Vuna we rowed back by night. It was a perfect, calm night, and with the full moon, was almost as bright as day. We rowed all the way close to shore, passing under the gloomy shade of dense forests or by countless coconuts, the only sound besides the plash of our oars being the cry of water fowl or some night bird, while the light beetles [7] flashed their green lights against the dark background of the forest, looking much like falling stars. There are certain moments in life that have made a lasting impression on me, and that moonlight row was one of them. We made several expeditions together that were every bit as interesting and enjoyable as the one to Vuna. On one occasion we visited the north part of the island, as well as Ngamia and other islands. We rowed nearly all the way close into shore and saw plenty of turtles. Ratu Lala started to troll with live bait, as we had come across several women fishing with nets, and on our approach they chanted out a greeting to Ratu Lala, and in return he helped himself to a lot of their fish. Ratu Lala had fully a dozen large fish after his bait, and some he hooked for a few seconds. This only made him the keener, and after leaving the calm Somo-somo Channel, although we encountered a very rough sea, he had the sail hoisted and we travelled at a great rate in and out amongst a lot of rocky islets, shipping any amount of water which soaked us and our baggage, and half-filled the boat. I expected we should be swamped every moment, and from the frightened looks of our crew I knew they expected the same thing. Hence, I was not reassured when Ratu Lala remarked that it was in just such a sea, and in the same place, that he lost his schooner (which the government had given him) and that on that occasion he and all his crew remained in the water for five hours. When I explained that I had no wish to be upset, he said, "I suppose you can swim?" I said "Yes! but I do not wish to lose my gun and other property," to which he replied, "Well, I lost more than that when my schooner went down." I was therefore not a little relieved when he had the sail lowered. He explained that he never liked being beaten, even if he drowned us all, and all this was because I had bet him one shilling (by his own desire) that he would not get a fish. I mention this to show what foolhardy things he was capable of doing, never thinking of the consequences. I could mention many such cases. We at length came to some shallows between a lot of small and most picturesque islands, and as it was low tide, and we could not pass, we, viz., Ratu Lala, myself, and the other chiefs, got out to walk, leaving the boat and crew to come on when they could (they arrived at 4 a.m. the next morning). I was glad to get an opportunity to dry myself, and we started off at a good rate for our destination, but unfortunately we came to a spot where grew a small weed that the Fijians consider a great luxury when cooked, and Ratu Lala and his people stayed here fully two hours, till they had picked all the weed in sight, in spite of the heavy rain. It was amusing to see all these high-caste Fijians and old Stivani, the jester, running to and fro with yells of delight like so many children, all on account of a weed which I myself afterwards failed to enjoy. On the way I shot three duck, and later, when it was too dark to shoot, we could see the beach between the mangroves and the sea was almost black with them. On the other side of us there was a regular chorus of wild chickens crowing and pigeons "howling" in the woods. After four hours' hard walking we arrived at our destination, Qelani, long after dark, dead tired, and soaked to the skin. We put up at the "Buli's" hut; he was a cousin of Ratu Lala, and was a hideous and sulky-looking fellow, but his hut was one of the finest and neatest I had seen in Fiji. As I literally had not had a mouthful of food since the previous evening, I was glad when about a dozen women entered bearing banana leaves covered with yams, fish, octopus, chickens, etc. We stayed here some days, but we had miserable, wet weather. There was excellent fishing in the stream here, and Ratu Lala especially had very good sport. Many of the fish averaged one-and-a-half pounds and more, but he told me that they often run to five pounds. There were three kinds, and all excellent eating. The commonest was a beautiful silvery fish, and another was of a golden colour with bright red stripes. During the latter part of my stay in Qelani I suffered from a slight attack of dysentery, and it was dull lying ill on the floor of a native hut with no one to talk to, as Ratu Lala always tried to avoid speaking English whenever possible, and would often only reply in monosyllables. It would often seem as if he were annoyed at something, but I found that he did this to all white men, and meant nothing by it. I soon cured myself by eating a lot of raw leaves of some bush plant, also a great quantity of native arrow-root. In spite of my sickness I managed to shoot a fair number of duck, wild chickens and pigeon, and also a few birds for my collection. One day, in spite of the rain, I was rowed over to Ngamia, which is a wonderfully beautiful island, about three hours from Qelani. It was thickly covered with a fine cycad which grows amongst the rocks overhanging the sea. The natives call it "loga-loga," [8] and eat the fruit. I landed and botanized a bit, finding some new and interesting plants, and then rowed on a few miles to call on the only white man on the island, an Australian named Mitchell, who has a large coconut property. He was astonished and pleased to see me, and introduced me to his Fijian wife, and his two pretty half-caste daughters soon got together a good breakfast for me. He seemed glad to see a white man again, and nearly talked my head off, and was full of anecdotes about the fighting they had with the Fijian cannibals in 1876. He told me that in the last great hurricane his house was blown over on to a small island which he owned nearly half-a-mile away. To describe all the incidents of my long visit would fill a book, but I think I have written enough to show what a very interesting time I spent with this Fijian Prince. It was without doubt one of the most curious experiences of all my travels in different parts of the globe. With all his faults, Ratu Lala was a good fellow, and he certainly was a sportsman. All Fiji knows his failings, otherwise I should not have alluded to them. The old blood of the Fijians ran in his veins, his ancestors were kings who had been used to command and to tyrannise; therefore he could never see any harm in the many stories of his escapades that he told me, and he seemed much offended and surprised when I advised him not to talk about them to other Europeans. When I started off to Levuka I was greatly surprised to see all the women of Somo-somo sitting on the beach waiting to see me depart, and as I walked down alone they greeted me in much the same way as they often greeted Ratu Lala, in a kind of chanting shout that sounded most effective. It was a Fijian farewell! PART II Among Ex-Cannibals in Fiji. CHAPTER III Among Ex-Cannibals in Fiji. Journey into the Interior of Great Fiji--A Guide Secured--The Start--Arrival at Navua--Extraction of Sago--Grandeur of Scenery--A Man covered with Monkey-like Hair--A Strangely Coloured Parrot--Wild Lemon and Shaddock Trees--A Tropical "Yosemite Valley"--Handclapping as a Native Form of Salute--Beauty of Namosi--The Visitor inspected by ex-Cannibals--Reversion to Cannibalism only prevented by fear of the Government--A Man who would like to Eat my Parrot "and the White Man too"--The Scene of Former Cannibal Feasts--Revolting Accounts of Cannibalism as Formerly Practised--Sporadic Cases in Recent Years--An Instance of Unconscious Cannibalism by a White--Reception at Villages _en route_--Masirewa Upset--Descent of Rapids--Dramatic Arrival at Natondre ("Fallen from the Skies"). Toward the end of my stay in the Fijian Islands I determined to make a journey far into the interior of Viti Levu (Great Fiji), the largest island of the great Fijian archipelago. Suva, the chief town in Fiji, and the headquarters of the government, is on this island, but very few Europeans travel far beyond the coast, and my friends in Suva declared that I would have a fit of repentance before I had travelled very far, as the interior of the island is extremely mountainous and rough. After a great deal of trouble I managed to get an interpreter named Masirewa, who came from the small island of Bau. He was a fine-looking fellow, and, like most Fijians, possessed a tremendous mop of hair. His stock of English was limited, and we often misunderstood each other, but he proved a most amusing companion, if only on account of his unlimited "cheek." I ought here to mention that Fijians vary a great deal, both in colour and language. Fiji is the part of the Pacific where various types meet, viz., Papuan, Malayan, and Polynesian. The mountaineers around Namosi, which I visited, who were all cannibals twenty-five years ago, are much darker in colour than the coast natives, and they are undoubtedly of Papuan origin. I left Suva with Masirewa on the morning of October 12th, and after a short sea voyage of three or four hours on a small steam launch, we arrived at the village of Navua. I had a letter to Mr. McOwan, the government commissioner for that district. He put me up for the night, and we played several games of tennis, and my stay, though short, was an exceedingly pleasant one. The whites in Fiji are the most hospitable people in the world. They are of the old _régime_ that is dying out fast everywhere. The next day I set out on my journey into the interior, Masirewa and another Fijian carrying my baggage (which was wrapped up in waterproof cloth) on a long bamboo pole. We followed the course of the Navua River for some distance. In the swamps bordering the river grew quantities of a variety of sago palm (_Sagus vitiensis_) called by the natives Songo. They extract the sago from the trunk, and the palm always dies after flowering. After passing through about four miles of sugar cane, with small villages of the Indian coolies who work in the cane fields, we left behind us the last traces of civilization. We next came to a very beautiful bit of hilly country, densely wooded on the hills, though bordering the broad gravelly beaches of the river were long stretches of beautiful grassy pastures. Darkness set in as we ascended some thickly wooded hills. The atmosphere was damp and close, and mosquitoes plentiful, and small phosphorescent lumps seemed to wink at us out of the darkness on every side. I had to strike plenty of matches to discover the track, and continually bumped myself against boulders and the trunks of tree-ferns. It was late when we arrived at the village of Nakavu, on the banks of the Navua River, where I was soon asleep on a pile of mats in the hut of the "Buli," or village chief. The next morning I resumed my journey with Masirewa and two canoe-men in a canoe, and we were punted and hauled over numerous dangerous rapids, at some of which I had to get out. We passed between two steep, rocky cliffs the whole way, and they were densely clothed with tree-ferns and other rank tropical vegetation, the large white sweet-scented _datura_ being very plentiful. The scenery was very beautiful, and numerous waterfalls dashed over the rocky walls with a sullen roar. Ducks were plentiful, but my ammunition being limited, I shot only enough to supply us with food. I felt cramped sitting in a canoe all day, but I enjoyed myself in spite of the continuous and heavy rain. Late in the afternoon we arrived at the small village of Namuamua, on the right bank of the river, with the village of Beka on the other side. We were given a small hut all to ourselves, and we fared sumptuously on duck and boiled yams. The next morning I was shown a curious but ghastly object, viz., a man covered with hair like a monkey, and I was told that he had never been able to walk. He dragged himself about on his hands and feet, uttering groans and grunts like an animal. I hired two fresh bearers to carry my baggage, and after we had crossed the river three or four times we passed over some steep and slippery hills for some distance. I managed to shoot a parrot that I had not seen on any of the other islands. It was green, with a black head and yellow breast. The rain came down in torrents, and I got well soaked. We went for miles through woods with small timber, but full of bright crotons, _dracænas,_ bamboos, and a very sweetscented plant somewhat resembling the frangipani, the flower of which covered the ground. We passed under the shade of sweet-scented wild lemon and shaddock trees, but we got the bad with the good, as a horrible stench came from a small green flowering bush. A beautiful pink and white ground orchid (_Calanthe_) was plentiful. We travelled along a steep, narrow strip of land with a river on each side in the valleys below. We met no one until we arrived at the village of Koro Wai-Wai, which is situated on the banks of a good-sized river at the entrance to a magnificent gorge of rocky peaks and precipices. Here we found the "Buli" of Namosi squatting down in a miserable, smoky hut where we rested for a few minutes, and the hut was soon filled with a crowd of natives, all anxious to view the "papalangi" (foreigner). The "Buli" agreed to accompany me to Namosi, although his home was in another village. Continuing our journey, we had hard work climbing over boulders, and along slippery ledges overhanging the foaming river many feet below. Steep precipices rose on each side of us, and the gorge grew more narrow as we proceeded. The scenery was grand, and rather resembled the Yosemite Valley, but had the additional attraction of a wealth of tropical foliage. Steep rocky spires topped by misty clouds towered above us and little openings between rocky walls revealed dark green lanes or vistas of tangled tropical growth which the sun never reached. We met many natives, who sat on their haunches when the "Buli" talked to them, and clapped their hands as we passed. This was out of respect for the "Buli," who was an insignificant looking little bearded man and quite naked except for a small "Sulu." We soon arrived at Namosi. It is a large town situated between two steep walls of rock, and was by far the prettiest place I had seen in Fiji, and that is saying a good deal. The town is on both banks of the Waiandina River, with large "ivi" and other beautiful trees overhanging the water; brilliant coloured crotons, _dracænas,_ and other fine plants imparted a wealth of colour to the scene, and many of the grand old trees were heavily laden with ferns and orchids. During many years' wanderings all the world over, I do not think I have ever come across a more beautiful and ideal spot. The "Buli" was greeted with cries of "m-m-ka-a" in shrill voices by the women, for all the world like the caw of an old crow. I learned that the "Buli" had not been here for some time, but I seemed to be the chief object of interest, and was followed everywhere by an admiring and curious crowd of dark brown, shiny boys and girls, the former just as they were born and the latter wearing a strip of "Sulu." We put up in a chief's house, and after getting through the usual boiled yams, I went on a tour of inspection around the town, but I soon found that I was the one to be inspected. There was a hum of voices in every hut, and doorways were darkened with many heads. Groups of young men, women and children assembled to see the sight, but scampered away if I approached too near. No white man but the government agent had been here for several years, I was told. Thirty-odd years ago they would not have been satisfied to "look only," but would have wished to taste, and many of the present inhabitants would have made chops of me, and were no doubt peering out of their huts to see if I was fat or lean, and wishing for days gone by but not forgotten. Isolated cases of cannibalism still occur in out-of-the-way parts of Fiji, and it is only fear of the government that stops them, otherwise these mountaineers would at once return to cannibalism. Masirewa came out and stood with folded arms among a large crowd talking about me, and no doubt taking all the credit for my appearance, and staring at me as if he had never seen me before, so that I felt much inclined to kick him. In the evening, as I skinned the parrot I had shot, Masirewa told me how one man had said that he would like to eat the parrot, and that he had replied: "And the white man too." There was a large and very interested crowd around me as I worked, and they were very much astonished when told that the birds in England were different from those in Fiji, and I was inundated with childish questions about England. Masirewa seemed to be trying to pass himself off on these simple mountaineers as a chief, and was clearly beginning to give himself airs, so that when he started to eat with the "Buli" and myself, I had to snub him, and told him sharply to clean my gun and eat afterwards. I slept the next morning till seven o'clock, and Masirewa told me that the natives could not understand my sleeping so late, and that they thought I was drunk on "angona," of which I had partaken the night before. "Angona" is the same as "kava" in Samoa, and is the national beverage in Fiji. Masirewa now only wore a "sulu" and discarded his singlet. I suppose it was a case of "In Rome do as Rome does," but he certainly looked better in the dark skin he wore at his birth. I was shown the large rock by the river where more than a thousand people had been killed for their cannibal feasts. They were usually prisoners captured in the Rewa district, also a few white men. They were cut open alive and their hearts torn out, and their bodies were then cut up for cooking on the rock, which I noticed was worn quite smooth. Sometimes they would boil a man alive in a huge cauldron. While staying at Namosi the "Buli" gave me some lessons in throwing native spears, and in using the bow. Whilst practising the latter I narrowly missed, by a few inches, shooting a woman who stepped out suddenly from behind a hut. I was out most of the day shooting pigeons in the woods close by, accompanied by the "Buli," Masirewa, and several boys. The woods were full of a wonderfully beautiful creeper, a delicate pink and white _clerodendron_ which grew in large bunches; there was also a very pretty _hoya_ (wax flower) scrambling up the trees. We filled ourselves with the juicy pink fruit of the "kavika," or what is generally known as the Malacca or rose-apple. The trees were plentiful in the woods, grew to a large size, and were literally loaded with fruit, the fallen fruit resembling a pink carpet. Another very good fruit was the "wi," a golden fruit about the size of a large mango. I have seen both cultivated in the West Indies. On my return to the village I had a most interesting interview with these ex-cannibals, one old and two middle-aged men, thanks to Masirewa, my interpreter. He first asked them how they liked human flesh, and they all shouted "Venaka, venaka!" (good). Like the natives of New Guinea, they said it was far better than pig; they also declared that the legs, arms and palms of the hands were the greatest delicacies, and that women and children tasted best. The brains and eyes were especially good. They would never eat a man who had died a natural death. They had eaten white man; he was salty and fat, but he was good, though not so good as "Fiji man." One of them had tasted a certain Mr. ----, and the meat on his legs was very fat. They chopped his feet off above the boots, which they thought were part of him, and they boiled his feet and boots for days, but they did not like the taste of the boots. They often kept some of their prisoners and fattened them up, and when the day came for killing one, it was the women of Namosi's duty to take him down to the large stone by the river, where they cut him open alive and tore his heart out. Lastly, I asked if they would still like to eat man if they got the chance, and they were not afraid of being punished, and there was no hesitation in their reply of "Io" (yes), uttered with one voice like the yelp of a hungry wolf, and it seemed to me that their eyes sparkled. They were certainly a very obliging lot of cannibals. Cannibalism is, of course, practically extinct now in Fiji, but in recent years I am told that there, have been a few odd cases far back in the mountains. On one occasion a man told his wife to build an oven and that he was going to cook her. This she did, and he then killed, cooked, and ate her. Whilst in Fiji I met an Englishman who in the seventies had tasted human meat at a native feast, he believing it was pig, and at the time he thought it was very good. I was told that in the old days when they wanted to know whether a body was cooked enough they looked to see if the head was loose. If the head fell off it was thought to be "cooked to perfection," but I will not vouch for this story being correct. I gave the "Buli" a box of matches, and he seemed as pleased as if it was a purse of gold; they light all their fires here by wood friction, Some of the pet pigs around here were very oddly marked with stripes and spots of brown, black and white. Whilst in Fiji I often came across natives far from any village who were being followed by pet pigs, as we in England might be followed by dogs. Masirewa amused me more each day by his cheek and self-assurance. Once I asked him what he said to the chief of the hut we were in, and he replied: "Oh! I tell him Get out, you black fellow.' " We left Namosi early the next morning, a large crowd seeing us off, and I was sorry to bid farewell to one of the most beautiful spots in this wide world. We passed through the villages of Nailili and Waivaka, where I called at the chiefs' huts and held a kind of "at home" for a few minutes, the people simply swarming in to look at me. The "Buli" of Namosi had sent messengers on in front to give notice of my approach, and at each village they had the inevitable hot yams ready to eat, which Masirewa made the most of. At the entrance to each village there was usually a palisade of bamboo or tree-fern trunks, and here a crowd of girls and children would often be waiting, and on my approach they would set up loud yells and scamper off, till I began to think that I must look a very ferocious kind of "papalangai." At Dellaisakau the natives looked a very wild lot. Some of the men had black patches all over their faces, and some had great masses of hair shaped like a parasol. One or two of the women wore only the old-time small aprons of coconut fibre. We followed the Waiandina River amid very fine scenery. The sloping hills were covered with woods, and we passed under a canopy of bamboo, the large trumpet flowers of the white _datura,_ tree-ferns, large "ivi," "dakua" and "kavika" trees loaded with ferns and fine orchids in flower. We crossed the river several times, and I was carried across by a huge Fijian whose head and neck were covered with lime. Rain soon set in again, and we literally wallowed in mud and water. I got drenched by the soaking vegetation, so I afterwards waded boldly through rivers and streams, as it was impossible to get any wetter. At Nasiuvou the whole village turned out to greet me, and I held my usual reception in the chief's hut. The chief seemed very annoyed that I would not stay the night. No doubt he thought that I would prove a great attraction for his people. The banks of the Waiandina River were crowded as I got into a canoe, and Masirewa, in trying to show off with a large paddle, lost his balance and fell into the water, the yells of laughter from the crowd showing that they were not lacking in humour. Masirewa did not like it at all, but I was very glad, as he had been giving himself too many airs. I dismissed my two bearers and took only one canoe man and made Masirewa help him. We went down several rapids at a great pace. It was dangerous but exhilarating, and we had several narrow escapes of being swamped, as the canoe, being a small one, was often half-filled with water. We also had several close shaves from striking rocks and tree trunks. Ducks were plentiful, and I shot one on the wing as we were tearing down a rapid. The scenery was very fine; steep wooded mountains, rocky peaks with odd shapes, steep precipices, fine waterfalls, grand forests, and picturesque villages, and the scenery as we wound among the mountains was most romantic. Toward evening we arrived at the large town of Nambukaluku, where we disembarked. Except for a few old men and children we found it deserted, and we learned that the "Buli," who is a very important chief, had gone to stay at the village of Natondre for some important ceremonies for a few days, and most of the inhabitants had gone with him. Thither I determined to go, and we set off along a mountain path. The rain was all gone, and it was a lovely, still evening. Suddenly I heard distant yells and shouts and the beating of the "lalis" (hollow wooden drums), and I set off running, leaving Masirewa and my canoe man carrying my baggage far behind, and on turning a sharp corner I came full upon the village of Natondre and a most interesting sight. Hundreds of natives were squatting on the ground of the village square, and about one hundred men with faces black and in full war paint, swinging war clubs, were rushing backward and forward yelling and singing while large wooden drums were beaten. They were dressed in most fantastic style, some only with fibrous strings round their loins, and others with yards of "tapa" cloth wound around them. Several women were jumping about with fibre aprons on, and all had their hair done up in many curious ways and sprinkled with red and yellow powders. Huge piles of mats were heaped in the open square, speeches were made, and the people all responded with a deep "Ah-h" which sounded most effective from the huge multitude. I came up in the growing dusk and stood behind a lot of people squatting down. Suddenly some one looked round and saw me--sensation--whispers of "papalangai" were heard on all sides, and looks of astonishment were cast in my direction. Certainly my entrance to Natondre could not have been more dramatic, and I believe that they almost thought that I had _fallen from the skies,_ which is the literal meaning of the word "papalangai." CHAPTER IV Mock War-Scene at the Chief's House. War Ceremonies and Dances at Natondre Described--The Great Chief of Nambukaluku--The Dances continued--A Fijian Feast--A Native Orator--The Ceremonies concluded--The Journey continued--A Wonderful Fungus--The bark of the rare Golden Dove leads to its Capture--Return to more Civilised Parts--The Author as Guest of a high Fijian Prince and Princess--A _souvenir_ of Seddon--Arrival at Suva. Masirewa soon arrived and I learned that there were some very important ceremonies in which one tribe was giving presents to another tribe, in settlement of some disputes that had been carried on since the old cannibal fighting days, and as I passed into the "Buli's" hut I noticed that the dancers were unwinding all the "tapa" cloth from around their bodies and throwing it on the piles of mats. I immediately went behind a "tapa" screen where the "Buli" slept, and began to get into dry clothes. This evidently made some of the crowd in the hut angry, as they thought I was lacking in respect to the "Buli" by changing in his private quarters, as in Fiji the very high chiefs are looked upon as sacred. One fellow kept shouting at me in a very impudent way, so when Masirewa came in, I told him about it, and he lectured the crowd and told them that I was a very big chief; this seemed to frighten them. Later on, I found that Masirewa had complained, and the impudent man was brought up before one of the chiefs, who gave him a lecture before myself and a large crowd in the hut I put up in. Masirewa translated for me, how the chief said: "The white man, who is a big chief, has done us honour in visiting our town," and to the man: "You will give us a bad name in all Fiji for our rudeness to the stranger that comes to us." I learned that the man was going to be punished, but as he looked very repentant I said that I did not wish him punished, so he was allowed to sneak out of the hut, the people kicking him and saying angry words as he passed. I supped with the great "Buli" that evening, and we fared sumptuously on my duck, river oysters and all sorts of native dishes. We were waited upon by two warriors in full war paint, and the "Buli's" young and pretty wife, shining with coconut oil all over her body, sat by me and fanned me. The "Buli" was an aristocratic-looking old fellow with a large nose and a very haughty look. He is a very important chief, but knew no English, and we carried on our conversation through the medium of Masirewa. He spoke in a kind of mumble, with a very thick voice. Once when he had been mumbling worse than usual there was a kind of restrained titter from someone in the crowd at the back. The "Buli" heard it, and slowly turning his head he transfixed the crowd with his piercing gaze for many seconds amid a dead silence. I wondered afterwards if anything ever happened to the unfortunate one who was so easily amused. I learned that besides having an impediment in his speech, the "Buli" was also paralyzed in one leg. I Put up in a different hut, the "Buli" apologizing for his hut being crowded with the influx of visitors. I watched a "meke-meke" or native dance that evening in which about a dozen girls covered with oil took part. There was a sound of revelry the rest of the night, for there was feasting and dancing in several huts, and discordant chanting and the hum of many voices followed me into my dreams. The next morning I went out shooting pigeons in some thick pathless woods about two miles away, and I also shot some flying foxes which I gave to my companions, as the Fijians consider them a great delicacy, as do many Europeans. These woods were full of pineapples, which in places barred our way. Many of them were ripe, and I found they possessed a fine flavour. In the afternoon the ceremonies were continued, the "Buli" sending for me to sit by him in the doorway of his hut to watch them. First about forty women with "tapa" cloth wound around their bodies went through various evolutions, swaying their arms about and chanting in their usual discordant manner. They then unwound the "tapa" from their bodies and threw it in a heap on the ground, following this by more manoeuvres. About twenty men came into the square, some with their faces blacked and their bodies stained red with some pigment, and wearing only aprons of coconut strings, with bracelets of leaves on their arms and carved pigs' tusks hanging from their necks. They went through some splendid dancing, falling down on the ground and bouncing up again like india-rubber balls. They sang, or rather chanted, all the time, and so did a kind of chorus of men who beat on wood and bamboo, while the dancers danced round them in circles, and squares, and then bent backward, nearly touching the ground with their heads. As they danced they kept splendid time, with their arms, legs and heads. Then amid shrill yells and cries from the crowd, another procession approached from the far end of the village in single file. First came several men with spears, which they shook on the ground every now and then, shaking their bodies at the same time in a fierce manner. Behind them in single file came a lot of women, each bearing a. rolled-up mat, which they threw down in a heap. These mats are made from the dried "pandanus" leaf. Then several men appeared bearing enormous Fiji baskets full of large rolls of food wrapped up in leaves, also smaller baskets made of the fresh leaves of the crimson _dracæna,_ also full of food. From the enormous number of baskets, the food supply was enough to feed a large multitude. They were all put down together by the mats. Then there was dead silence, in which you could almost have heard the proverbial pin drop, and an oldish man stepped forward and stood by the mats and baskets, his body wound round with "tapa" till it stuck out many feet from his body. The crowd broke silence with an ear-piercing yell. He then spoke, and was interrupted from time to time with cries of approval or the reverse, and sometimes loud laughter, while the "Buli," sitting by me, every now and then shouted out, or broke into a childish giggle. Then the speaker uttered a lot of short sentences very fast, and every one present said "Venaka" (good) at the end of each sentence. Then the old man unwound the "tapa" around him and threw it on the mats, as did others. Silence again, and I began to think all was over, but suddenly there was another shrill sort of yell from the crowd, and from the back of our hut, amid a tremendous uproar from all present and the beating of "lalis" (drums), appeared a procession of about fifty warriors in their usual picturesque get-up, all brandishing large war-clubs. They paraded into the square in very stately fashion, singing in their curious and savage discords, and then went through some grand dances, keeping wonderful time with their clubs and bodies, and from time to time giving forth a loud yell which was really thrilling. They next rushed backward and forward brandishing their clubs and killing an imaginary foe, and then clapped their hands together in even time. Then off came the "tapa" from around them, and the heap was made still larger. Another yell from the crowd. Then silence, followed by more speaking, and every now and then a deep "Ah-h" from all present, which sounded like distant thunder and was most impressive. Then all the people clapped their hands and chanted a few words in low suppressed voices, and the ceremony, lasting between four or five hours, was over. From time to time a man would approach the "Buli" and fall down on all fours and clap his hands before he could speak. I felt at times as if I was watching a comic opera or a ballet, and there were many amusing incidents. I think honours were fairly easy between the big show and myself, as the people kept whispering and looking around at me the whole time. I never passed a hut without causing excitement, and there would be cries of "papalangai" and a mass of faces would appear at the doors. Wherever I went I was followed at a respectful distance by a crowd of girls and children, but if I turned to retrace my steps there was a panic-stricken rush to get out of my way. On one occasion a little child of about two years old yelled with fright when I passed near it. I was much astonished that a white man should make such a stir in any part of Fiji, but it is only so in very out-of-the-way villages such as these. I was exceedingly lucky to witness these ceremonies, as they were the most important ones that had taken place in Fiji for many years, and few of the old white residents had seen their equal. I was all the more lucky, as I never expected to see them when I started from Suva. The next morning I said "Samoce" [9] (good-bye) to the great "Buli," who, though he was a big chief, was not above accepting with evident glee the few shillings I pressed into his hand, and with Masirewa and two fresh bearers continued my journey in the pouring rain. Once we had to swim across a swift and swollen river, then we went over steep hills, down deep gullies, wading through streams and passing all the time through thick forests. We stopped once to feed on wild pineapples, the pink "kavika." and the golden "wi," but Masirewa was a bad bushman and slipped, and stumbled, swore and grumbled, and many times I had to wait till he came up with me. We followed a deep and beautiful gulch for some distance, wading all the way through a shallow stream which flowed over a natural slanting pavement with a smooth surface, and I found it hard to keep my footing. We got a magnificent view from the top of a high hill of the country to the eastward, with large rivers winding among beautiful undulating wooded country as far as the eye could reach. We passed through but one village, named Naqeldreteki, and from here I saw two very fine waterfalls falling side by side over a steep cliff several hundred feet straight drop into the forest below. It was about here that I came across a most beautiful sort of fungus of a bright scarlet and orange, and in the shape of a perfect star. I heard what I took to be the gruff bark of a dog, when it suddenly dawned upon me that there could not be any dogs here, as we were far from any village. Upon investigation I discovered that it was a bird that was the author of the noise, and I soon brought it down with a load of dust-shot, and to my great delight it proved to be the golden dove, a bird which I had hunted for in vain in the other islands. It was of a very fine metallic golden-yellow colour, and the feathers being long and narrow, gave it a very odd appearance. I could only mutter "venaka, venaka" (good), and in spite of the heavy rain reverently and slowly rolled it up in cotton wool and paper, to the great amusement of my three Fijians. Among the most interesting features of bird life in the Samoan and Fijian Islands were the various members of the dove family, which looked wonderfully brilliant with their metallic greens, and their orange, crimson, purple, yellow, pink, cream and olive green. The latter part of the journey was through bushy country dotted about with many large orchid and fern-laden trees. We arrived toward dusk at the large village of Serea, on the Wainimala River, which is a branch of the Rewa River, and I put up in the large hut of the "Buli." I began to feel like an ordinary mortal again, as the people here did not exhibit any great surprise on seeing me, no doubt because, being in the Rewa district, they see a few Europeans from time to time. After a change into dry clothes and a supper off one of the large pigeons I had shot _en route,_ I had a large and interested crowd to watch me skin my dove, and there were roars of laughter during the process, especially when Masirewa told them it would be made to look like a real bird with glass eyes. Masirewa at one time spoke sharply to the "Buli" who, I thought, looked a bit annoyed, so I asked Masirewa what he said. "Oh," he said airily, "I told him to keep his pig of a child away from the white chief." Masirewa, was a character, and evidently had no respect for chiefs and princes, etc., as he treated all the "Bulis" as his equals, which was very different from the generally cringing attitude of the Fijians to their chiefs. Even the high and mighty "Buli" of Nabukaluku [10] seemed to like his cheek. Masirewa liked to show off his English, though no one understood a word, and his favourite way of addressing them when he was annoyed was "You all black devil pigs." Whilst I was skinning my dove, the people brought in a horrible-looking carved figure with staring eyes. It was about five feet high, and they waxed very merry, whenever I looked up at it from my skinning. I left early next morning in the pouring rain, and found as I passed through Serea that it was quite a town. Quite a large crowd escorted me down the steep banks of the river (Wainimala), and we were soon spinning down stream in a large canoe. We soon joined another river which, together with the Wainimala, formed the Rewa, the largest river in Fiji. The scenery was both varied and picturesque, and once I got the canoe paddled up a little shady creek where there was a very beautiful waterfall, and where I was glad to stretch my legs for a few minutes after being cramped up in the canoe. There were many pretty and quaint villages on the banks, and the people often rushed out of their huts to see us pass. Ducks were plentiful, and I got a fair bag and used up my remaining cartridges, and the rest of the way I had to be content with pointing my gun at them, which was very tantalizing. We arrived about three p.m. at the village of Viria, and I stayed with the "Buli" in his hut almost overhanging the river. In the evening I took a stroll with the "Buli" round the village, and then we sat on a log by the river chatting, with Masirewa acting as interpreter. We continued our journey the next morning, and late in the day we passed large fields of sugarcane. We had returned to civilization once more, and I could not help feeling a pang of regret. We arrived at the village of Navuso about four p.m., and I was the guest of Andi (princess) Cakobau (pronounced Thakombau) and her husband, Ratu (prince) Beni Tanoa. Princess Cakobau is the highest lady of rank in Fiji, and belongs to the royal family. She is very stately and ladylike, and in her younger days was very beautiful. She does not know any English, but she wrote her autograph for me in my note-book to paste on her photograph, as she writes a very good hand. Her husband is also one of the highest chiefs in Fiji, and speaks good English. They proved most hospitable, and presented me with some Fijian fans when I left the next morning, and the Princess gave me a buttonhole of flowers out of her garden. Dick Seddon, the Premier of New Zealand, had once visited them, and I noticed his portrait that he had given them fastened to a post in their hut. I left Navuso by steam launch which called at the large sugar-mills a little lower down, and reached Suva that afternoon, feeling very fit after one of the most enjoyable and interesting expeditions that I ever made. PART III My Life Among Filipinos and Negritos and a Journey in Search of Bearded Women. CHAPTER V At Home Among Filipinos and Negritos. Arrival at Florida Blanca--The Schoolmaster's House Kept by Pupils in their Master's Absence--Everyday Scenes at Florida Blanca--A Filipino Sunday--A Visit to the Cock-fighting Ring--A Strange Church Clock and Chimes--Pugnacious Scene at a Funeral--Strained Relations between Filipinos and Americans--My New Servant--Victoriano, an Ex-officer of Aguinaldo's Army, and his Six Wives--I Start for the Mountains--"Free and easy" Progress of my Buffalo-cart--Ascent into the Mountains--Arrival at my Future Abode--Description of my Hut and Food--Our Botanical Surroundings--Meetings with the Negritos--Friendliness and Mirth of the Little People--Negritos may properly be called Pigmies--Their Appearance, Dress, Ornaments and Weapons--An Ingenious Pig-arrow--Extraordinary Fish-traps--Their Rude Barbaric Chanting--Their Chief and His House--Cure of a Malarial Fever and its Embarrassing Results--"Agriculture in the Tropics"--A Hairbreadth Escape--Filipino Blowpipes--A Pigmy Hawk in Pigmyland--The Elusive _Pitta_--Names of the Birds--A Moth as Scent Producer--Flying Lizards and other kinds--A "Tigre" Scare by Night--Enforced Seclusion of Female Hornbill. When collecting in the Philippines, I put in most of my time in the Florida Blanca Mountains, in the province of Pampanga, Northern Luzon. I arrived one evening after dark at the good-sized village of Florida Blanca, which is situated a few miles from the foot of the mountain, whose name it shares. I carried a letter to the American schoolmaster, who was the only white man in the district, and had been a soldier in the late war. It seemed to me a curious policy on the part of the American government to turn their soldiers into schoolmasters, especially as in most cases they are very ignorant themselves. I believe, however, the chief object is to teach the young Filipinos English, and so turn them into live American citizens. The Americans are far from popular in the Philippines, and when in Manila I was strongly advised not to wear _khaki_ in the jungle for fear of being taken for an American soldier. The American's house was dark and still when I arrived at Florida Blanca, but whilst I was wondering what to do, I was surprised to hear a small voice, coming out of a small adjoining house, say in good English (though slowly and with a strong accent), "Thee--master--has--gone--into--thee--mountains--to--kill--deer--and--pigs." This was from one of the American's own pupils, an intelligent little fellow named Camilo. As I learnt that he was not expected back for two or three days, there was nothing left but to make myself as comfortable as possible in his house until his return. Camilo was soon boiling me some water, and I opened some of my provisions, as I had eaten nothing for eight hours. The house was an ordinary Filipino one, raised fully ten feet from the ground and built of native timber, the peaked roof, which had a frame-work of bamboo, being thatched with palm-leaves. The divisions between the rooms were of plaited bamboo work, and the sliding windows were latticed, each division being fitted with pieces of pearl shell. The next morning I was invaded by quite an army of small boys, who, to my surprise, all spoke English very prettily in their slow way and with a quaint accent. I have never come across a more bright and intelligent set of little fellows, all very friendly and not a bit shy, yet most polite and well-mannered. They were manly little fellows, with the faces of cherubs, and they were always smiling. Though the ages of my five little favourites, Camilo, Nicolas, Fernando, Dranquilino and Victorio, ranged only from eleven down to seven (the latter being little smiling-faced Victorio), they did all my errands for me, bought me little rolls of sweetish bread, eggs and fruit, and were most honest. They talked to me as if they had known me all their lives, acted as my guides and showed me all there was to see. They generally followed me in a row, with their arms round each other's neck in a most affectionate way, and I never heard any of them use one angry word amongst themselves. The few days that I spent here, I wandered through the narrow lanes and collected a few birds and butterflies. These lanes were very dusty at the time, and were hemmed in with an uninteresting shrubby growth on each side. The country round Florida Blanca was for the most part covered with rice-fields, which, at the time of my visit, were parched and covered with short stubble, this being the dry season. I was not very successful in my collecting, and looked forward to my visit to the mountains, which I could see in the distance, and which appeared well covered with damp-looking forests. I noticed quantities of white egrets, which settled on the backs of the water buffaloes. I would often pass these water buffaloes with their heads sticking out of a way-side pond of mud and water. They were generally used for drawing the curious wagons of the country, which were rather like those one sees in Mexico, with solid wooden wheels. Generally when I met these water buffaloes out of harness, they were horribly afraid of me and stampeded, at the same time making the most extraordinary noises, something between a squeak and a short blast on a penny trumpet. They are usually stupid-looking brutes, but this showed that they were intelligent enough to distinguish between me and a Filipino. The pigs here had three pieces of wood round their necks fastened together to form a triangle, an excellent idea, as it prevented them from breaking through the fences. The day following my arrival was a Sunday, and the church, a large building of stone and galvanized iron, was almost opposite the American's house. I watched the people going to early mass (the Filipinos are devout Roman Catholics). All the women wore gauzy veils thrown over their heads, white or black were the prevailing colours and sometimes red. I thought they looked very nice in them. I had asked Camilo to boil me some water, but he begged off very politely, as he had to go and put on his cassock and surplice to attend the service in the church, where he sang all alone. When he returned, I asked him to sing to me what he had sung in the church, and he at once complied, singing the "Gloria Patri" in a very clear and sweet voice. After mass was over, the church bell began to toll and an empty lighted bier came out of the church. It was preceded by three acolytes bearing a long cross and two large lighted candlesticks, and followed by a crowd of people. They were no doubt going to call at a house for the corpse. Shortly afterwards an old Filipino priest came out and got into one of the quaint covered buffalo wagons with solid wooden wheels (already mentioned), and drove slowly round by the road. It was hot and sultry, and thunder was pealing far away in the mountains. Under a clump of trees (of a kind of yellow flowering acacia), which grew just outside the large old wooden doors of the church, there was a group of village youths and loafers, and two or three men went past with their fighting cocks under their arms, Sunday afternoon out here being the great day for cock-fighting. There seemed to be a sleepiness in the air quite in keeping with the day of the week, and I was nearly dozing off when little Nicolas came in. I asked him if he knew where the cook-fighting took place, and added, "you savez" (slang for "understand"). His eyes flashed, and he said, "Me no savage," but when I explained that I did not call him a "savage," his eyes, smiled an apology, and he willingly offered to show me the place where the cock-fighting was to be. On entering the large bamboo shed or theatre where the cock-fighting took place, I was met by the old Presidente of the village, to whom I had brought a letter from Governor Joven (the Governor of the province), whom I had visited at Bacolor on my way hither. He conducted me to a seat on a raised clay platform, and sat next to me most of the time, but as the fighting progressed he got very excited, and had to go down into the ring. I had often witnessed it before in tropical America, but here the left feet of the cocks were armed with large steel spurs shaped like miniature cutlasses, which before the fight began were encased in small leather sheaths. The onlookers worked themselves up into a state of great excitement, and there was a great deal of chaff, mixed with angry words, and plenty of silver "pesos" were exchanged over the results. But it was cruel work, and the crouching spectators were often scattered right and left by the furious birds, whilst on one occasion a too venturesome onlooker received a rather severe gash on his arm. The church clock here was a thing to wonder at. It had no dial, and struck only about five times a day. When it struck ten there was an interval of over twenty seconds between each stroke until the last two strokes, these coming quickly together, as if it was tired of such slow work! As there was no face to the clock, I was puzzled to know whether to set my watch at the first or last stroke, or to split the difference. There were a great many funerals during my stay here in December, there being a regular epidemic of cholera and malaria. This was the unhealthy season, and I was told that there were as many deaths in Florida Blanca during the months of December and January as during all the rest of the year put together. One day I watched from my window a funeral procession on its way from the church to the cemetery. The Padre was not there, and this no doubt accounted for the acrobatic display given by the three men in cassocks and surplices, who led the way, bearing a cross and two candles. They started by playfully kicking each other, and this soon developed into angry words, so that I expected a free fight. One of them tucked his unbuttoned cassock round his neck, and egged the other two on. The coffin followed on a lighted bier, and the string of mourners followed meekly behind, no doubt looking upon this display as nothing out of the common. The interior of the church was very cold and bare, and there were no seats. I learnt that the American and the Filipino Padre did not hit it off together. There were one or two opposition schools in the village, run by Filipinos, who did their utmost to prevent the children from learning the language of the hated Americanos. The American did not make himself any more popular by pulling down the old street sign-boards bearing Spanish names, and substituting ugly card-board placards marked in ink with fresh names, such as America Street, McKinley Street, and Roosevelt Street; he had also named a street after himself! Later on I learnt that this American schoolmaster was a kind of spy in the American secret police, and that he had to listen outside Filipino houses at night to overhear the conversation of suspected insurgents. I was told this by Victoriano, my Filipino servant in the mountains, who often accompanied the American in his nightly rounds, and was the only man in the secret. This Victoriano, whom I always called Vic for short, was the best servant that I have had during my wanderings in any part of the world. He spoke Spanish and knew a little English, as he had once been a servant to an Englishman near Manila. With my small knowledge of Spanish, and his smattering of English, we hit it off very well together. He acted as gun-bearer, cook, laundry maid, housemaid, interpreter and guide. Later on he told me that he had been an officer in the insurgent Aguinaldo's army, and that he had been imprisoned by the Spaniards for four years on the island of Mindanao for belonging to a revolutionary society. He was a tall, thin fellow of only thirty-two years of age, and yet his present wife in Florida Blanca was his sixth, all the others being dead. I used to chaff him about having poisoned them, which much amused him. After some days the American returned, and he told me of a very good spot in which to collect up in the mountains, so one morning I started off with Vic for a long stay in these mountain forests. We left Florida Blanca before the sun had risen, my luggage being carried in one of the curious buffalo wagons. We soon left the dry rice-fields behind, and for some distance passed over a wide uninteresting plain of tall grass, dotted about with a few trees. After going some distance our two buffaloes were unyoked and allowed to soak in a small pond. This process was repeated every time we came to any water, and this, together with the slow progress of the buffaloes, made the journey longer than I had anticipated. After crossing a fair-sized river, we began a gradual ascent into the mountains. My luggage was then carried for a short distance, and after travelling through some bamboo thickets and crossing a rocky stream, I beheld my future abode. It was a small grass-thatched hut, with a flooring of split bamboo, raised four feet from the ground; up to this we had to climb by means of a single bamboo step. About two-thirds of the hut consisted of a flooring of bamboo, fairly open on all sides but one; this part did as my bedroom, and to get to it I had to crawl through a hole--one could hardly call it a door! It was quite dark inside, but there was just room enough to lie down on the split bamboo floor. All round the hut was a large clearing, planted with maize, belonging to a Filipino, who from time to time lived in another small hut about one hundred yards away. He also owned the one I was living in, and for this I paid him the not very exorbitant sum of one peso (two shillings) a month. Tall gaunt trees rose out of the corn on all sides, and in the early morning they were full of bird-life--parrots, parakeets, cockatoos, pigeons, woodpeckers, gapers and hornbills, etc. A clear rocky stream flowed by the side of the hut, the sound of whose rushing waters by night and day was like music to the ear in this hot and thirsty land, whilst shaded as it was by bamboos and trees, it was a delightful spot to bathe in every morning and evening. I was well pleased with my surroundings, and looked forward to a successful and interesting stay. I fared well though the food was rough, and I subsisted chiefly on rice and papayas, together with pigeons, doves, parrots, and the smaller hornbill, called here "talactic," all of which fell to my gun. The surrounding country in these lower mountains was a mixture of forest and open grass-country, the grass often growing far over my head. The forest, which abounded in clear, rocky streams of cold water, was very luxuriant and beautiful, especially in many of the cool, damp ravines further back in the mountains. But near my camping ground a great deal of the forest seemed to be half smothered with large thickets of bamboo, and consequently the larger trees were rather far apart. There was also a climbing variety of bamboo, which scrambled up to the tops of the largest trees. The undergrowth in places was most luxuriant and consisted of different species of palms, rattans, tree-ferns, _pandanus,_ giant ginger, _pipers, pothos, begonias,_ bananas, _caladiums,_ ferns, _selaginellas_ and lycopodiums, and many variegated plants. Growing on many of the trees were some fine orchids. Chief amongst them may be mentioned a very beautiful "vanda," which grew mostly on trees in the open grass country, and which I witnessed in full bloom during my stay here. They presented a wonderful sight. Out of the large sheaths of fan-like leaves grew two grand flower-spikes, bearing from thirty to forty large white, chocolate and crimson flowers. Of these there were two varieties, and on one large plant I saw fully a dozen flower-spikes. Further back in the mountains I came across some fine species of _Phalaenopsis._ I early made the acquaintance of the little Negritos, the aborigines of these mountains, and during my wanderings I would often stumble across their huts in small clearings in the forest. They never seemed to have any villages, and I hardly ever saw more than one hut in one place, and they were nearly always miserable bamboo hovels. As for the little people themselves, they seemed perfectly harmless, and from the first treated me with the greatest friendliness, and would often pay me a visit at my hut, sometimes bringing me rice and "papayas" or a large hornbill, which had been shot with their steel-pointed arrows. They were quite naked except for a very small strip of cloth. Their skin was of a very dark brown colour, their hair frizzly, and the nose flat. They were by far the smallest race of people I had ever seen, and they might quite properly be termed pigmies. I certainly never came across a Negrito man over four feet six inches, if as tall, and the women were a great deal smaller, coming as a rule only up to the men's shoulders; the elderly women looked like small children with old faces. Both sexes generally had their bodies covered with various patterns cut in their skins, a kind of tattooing it might be called, but the skin was very much raised. Many of them had the backs of their heads in the centre shaved in a curious manner, like a very broad parting. I did not see them wearing many ornaments, but the men had tight-fitting fibre bracelets on their arms and legs, and the women sometimes wore necklaces of seeds, berries and beads; they would also sometimes wear curiously carved bamboo combs in their hair. The men used spears and bows and arrows; these latter they were rarely without. Their arrows were often works of art, very fine and neat patterns being burnt on the bamboo shafts. The feathers on the heads were large, and the steel points were very neatly bound on with rattan. These steel points were often cruel-looking things, having many fishhook-like barbs set at different angles, so that if they once entered a man's body it would be impossible to extract them again. A very clever invention was an arrow made for shooting deer and pig. The steel point was comparatively small, and it was fitted very lightly to a small piece of wood, which was also lightly placed in the end of the arrow. Attached at one end to the arrow-head was a long piece of stout native cord, which was wound round the shaft, the other end being fastened to the main shaft. When the arrow was shot into a pig, for instance, the steel head soon fell apart from the small bit of wood, which in its turn would also drop off from the main shaft. The thick cord would then gradually become unwound, and together with the shaft would trail on the ground till at length it would be caught fast in the bamboos or other thick growth, and the pig would then be at the mercy of its pursuers. The steel head, being barbed, could not be pulled out in the pig's struggles to break loose. I had one of these arrows presented to me by the chief of these Negritos, but, as a rule, they are very hard to get as the Negritos value them very highly. An American officer I met in Manila told me that he had been quartered for some time in a district where there were many Negritos, and though he had offered large rewards for one of these arrows he was not successful in getting one. The women manufacture enormous baskets, which I often saw them carrying on their backs when I met them in the forest. I was much struck with the cleverness of some of their fish-traps; these were long cone-like objects tapering to a point, the insides being lined with the extraordinary barb-covered stems of a rattan or climbing palm, and the thorns or barbs placed (pointing inwards) in such a way that the fish could get in easily but not out. These Negritos were splendid marksmen with their bows and arrows, and during my stay amongst them I became quite an adept in that art; their old chief used to take a great delight in teaching me, and my first efforts were met with hearty roars of laughter. They were certainly the merriest and yet the dirtiest people I have ever met. Whenever I met them they were always smiling. When, as happened on more than one occasion, I lost my way in the forest and had at length stumbled upon one of their dwellings, I made signs to let them understand that I wanted them to show me the way back. This they cheerfully did, and led the way singing in their peculiar manner; it was a most wild and abandoned and barbaric kind of music, if it could really be called music at all. It consisted chiefly of shouting and yelling in different scales, as if the singers were overflowing with joy at the mere idea of being alive. I would often hear them singing, or yelling like children, in the deep recesses of the forest. In fact the contentment and happiness of these little people was quite extraordinary, and I had a great affection for them. They would do almost anything for me, and their chief and I soon became great friends. He was a most amusing old fellow, and nearly always seemed to be laughing. Yet they were also the dirtiest people I had ever seen, and never washed themselves: consequently they were thick with dirt, which even their dark skins could not hide. They grew a little rice and tobacco, and the old chief always kept me well supplied with rice, which seemed of very fair quality. He also kept a few chickens and would often send me a present of some eggs, which were very acceptable. In return I would give him an old shirt or two, which he was very proud of. By the time I left, these shirts were almost the colour of his skin, and he evidently did not wish to follow my advice as to washing them. His house was a very large one for a Negrito's, and far better built than any others that I saw. When the maize which grew round my hut was ripe, the Filipino owner got several men and women up from Florida Blanca to help him to harvest it, and many of them slept underneath my hut. At nights I would generally have quite a crowd round me watching me skin my birds, and although I did not understand a word of their Pampanga dialect, their exclamations of surprise and delight when a bird was finished were quite complimentary. Poor Vic had to endure a running fire of questions as to what I was going to do with my birds and butterflies, but to judge by the way he lectured on me, he no doubt enjoyed it, and possibly told them some wonderful yarns about "My English," as he called me. One day a man at work in the maize had a bad attack of "calenturas" (malarial fever). I gave him some quinine and Epsom salts and this treatment evidently had a good effect, as the next day I was, besieged by a regular crowd of Filipinos of both sexes, who wished to consult me as to their various ills, and Vic was called in to act as interpreter. A good many of them, both men and women, took off nearly all their clothes to show me bruises and sores that they had, and I was in despair as to what treatment to recommend. At last when one old woman had parted with most of her little clothing to show me some sores, I told Vic to tell her that she had better get a good wash in the river (as she was the reverse of clean). This prescription raised a laugh, but the old lady was furious, and my medical advice was not again asked for. After the maize was cut, the owner started to sow a fresh crop without even taking out the old stalks, which had been cut off a few inches from the ground. This was the way he did it. He made holes in the ground with a hoe in one hand, and in the other hand he held a roasted cob of corn, which he kept chewing from time to time. His wife followed him, dropping a grain into each hole and filling in the soil with her feet. It would have made a good picture under the heading of "Agriculture in the Tropics"! Vic told me that they got four crops a year, so one can hardly wonder at their taking things easily. A rough bamboo fence separated the maize from a copse of bamboo jungle and forest, in which I was one day collecting with Vic, when I attempted to jump over a very low part of the fence. Vic, however, called out to me to stop, and it was lucky he did so, as otherwise the consequences would have been terrible for me. Just hidden by a few thin creepers, there had been arranged there a very neat little pig-trap, consisting of a dozen or more sharp bamboo spears firmly planted in the ground, and leaning at a slight angle towards the fence. Except for Vic's timely warning I should have been stuck through and through, as the bamboo points would stand a heavy weight without breaking, and if I had escaped being killed, I should certainly have been crippled for life. I naturally felt very angry with my neighbour for not having asked Vic to tell me about this, as the previous day when out alone I had climbed to the top of this fence and then jumped down into the creepers below; luckily I had not then noticed this low part further down. Many of the Filipinos are very good shots with their blowpipes, and Vic possessed one. It was about nine feet in length, and possessed a sight made of a lump of wax at one end. Like the bows of the Negritos, it was made out of the trunk of a very beautiful fan-palm (_Livistona_ sp.). Two pieces of the palm-wood are hollowed out and then stuck together in a wonderfully clever fashion, so that the joins barely show. Vic was fairly good with it when shooting at birds a short distance away. His ammunition consisted of round clay pellets, which he fashioned to the right size by help of a hole in a small tin plate, which he always carried with him. Birds were fairly plentiful in these mountain forests, and I was glad to get one of the interesting racquet-tailed parrots of the genus _Prioniturus,_ that are only found in the Philippines and Celebes. It was curious that up here amongst the pigmy Negritos I should get a pigmy hawk. It was by far the smallest hawk I had ever seen, being not much larger than a sparrow. Several species of very beautiful honey-suckers, full of metallic colours, used to frequent the bright red flowers of a creeper that generally clambered up the trees overhanging the streams, and these flowers proved very popular with many butterflies, especially the giant gold and black _Ornithopteras_ and various rare _papilios_ of great beauty. There was one bird I was most anxious to get, and though I saw it once I had to leave Luzon without it. It was a _pitta,_ a kind of ground thrush. Thrushes of this genus are amongst the most brilliant of all birds, and in my own collections I possess a great number of different species that I have collected in other countries. This one that I was so anxious to get was locally called "Tinkalu." Amongst both Filipinos and Negritos it has the reputation of being the cleverest of all birds, and, as Vic expressed it, "like a man." It hops away into the thickest undergrowth and hides at the least sound. Certainly no bird has ever given me such a lot of worry and trouble. Many a weary hour did I spend going through swamps and rivers, bamboo and thorny palms, dripping with perspiration and tormented by swarms of mosquitos and sand-flies, and all to no purpose! Thanks to Vic, I soon picked up most of the local names of the various birds, which were often given on account of the sounds they made. The large hornbill was named "Gasalo," the smaller kind "Talactic," the large pigeon "Buabu," a bee-eater "Patirictiric," and other names were "Pipit," "Culiaun," "Alibasbas," "Quilaquilbunduc," "Papalacul," "Batala," "Batubatu," "Culasisi." Some of the spiders here were of great size, and in these mountain forests their webs were a great nuisance. These webs were often of a yellow glutinous substance, which stained my clothes, and when they caught me in the face, as they often did, it was the reverse of pleasant. Mosquitos and sandflies were very numerous and ants were in great force, so that one evening when I discovered that they were hard at work amongst all my bird skins, it took me up to 5 a.m. to separate them before I could get to bed. I discovered a diurnal moth that possessed a most powerful and delicious scent. Vic, who had never noticed it before, was delighted, and proposed my catching them in quantities and turning them into scent. Whilst on the subject of scent, I might mention that in these forests I would often come across a good-sized tree which was called Ilang-ilang. It was covered with plain-looking green flowers, which possessed a wonderful fragrance. I learnt that the Filipinos collected the flowers, which were sent to Manila and made into scent, but that they generally cut down the tree in order to get the flowers. I saw here for the first time the curious flying lizards. Their partly transparent wings were generally of very bright colours; they fly fully twenty yards from one tree to another, and quickly run up the trees out of reach. Another quaint lizard, was what is generally known as the gecko. It is said to be poisonous in the Philippines, and is generally found on trees or bamboos and often in houses. In comparison to the size of this lizard the volume of its voice was enormous. I generally heard it at night. First would come a preliminary gurgling chuckle; then a pause (between the chuckle and what follows it). Then comes loud and clear, "Tuck-oo-o," then a slight pause, then "Tuck-oo-o" again repeated six or seven times at regular intervals; at other times it sounds like "Chuck it." When it was calling inside a hollow bamboo, the noise made was extraordinary. There were a great number of bamboos in the surrounding country, and they were continually snapping with loud reports, which I would often imagine to be the reports of a rifle until I got used to them. Wild pig were very plentiful, and at night they would often grub up the ground a few yards from my hut. One night I was skinning a bird, with Vic looking on, when we heard some animal growling close by, and Vic without any warning seized my gun (which I always kept loaded with buckshot) and fired into the darkness. He said that it was a "tigre," and called out excitedly that he had killed it, but although we hunted about with a light for some time, we saw no signs of it. No doubt it was some animal of the cat family. Vic, as in fact all Filipinos, had a mortal dread of snakes, and he would never venture out at night without a torch made of lighted bamboo, as he said they were very plentiful at night. The large hornbills ("Gasalo") were very hard to stalk, and as they generally frequented the tallest trees they were out of shot. They usually flew about in flocks, and made a most extraordinary noise, rather like a whole farmyard full of turkeys, guinea fowls and dogs. The whirring noise they made with their wings was not unlike the shunting of a locomotive. I had often before heard of the curious habit of the male in plastering up the female with mud in the hollow of a tree, leaving only a small hole through which he fed her until the single egg was hatched and the young one was ready to fly. Vic knew this, and further informed me that the smaller species, named here "Talactic," had the same custom of plastering up the female. Many evenings, when I had finished my work, I would get Vic to teach me the Pampanga, dialect, and wrote down a large vocabulary of words, and when some years afterwards I compared them word for word with other dialects and languages throughout the Malay Archipelago, I found that, with a few exceptions, there was not the slightest affinity between them. CHAPTER VI A Chapter of Accidents. A Severe Bout of Malaria in the Wilds--The "Seamy Side" of Exploration--Unfortunate Shooting of the Chief's Dog--Filipino Credulity--Stories of the Buquils and their Bearded Women--Expedition Planned--Succession of _contretemps_--Start for the Buquil Country--Scenes on the Way--A Negrito Mother's Method of Giving Drink to Her Baby--Exhausting Marches Amid Striking Scenery--The Worst Over--A Bolt from the Blue--Negritos in a Fury--Violent Scenes at a Negrito Council of War--They Decide on Reprisals--Further Progress Barred in Consequence--Return to Florida Blanca. As I mentioned before, this was the unhealthy season in the Philippines, and Vic assured me that these lower mountains were even more unhealthy than the flat country. I myself soon arrived at a similar conclusion, as a regular epidemic of malaria now set in among my pigmy friends, the Negritos, and the old chief told us that his favourite son was dying with it; next my neighbour and his wife were prostrated with it, and when they had slightly recovered, they left their hut and returned to Florida Blanca. Vic himself was next laid up with it, and seemed to think he was going to die. When I was at work in the evening he would shiver and groan under a blanket by my side; this, coming night after night, was rather depressing for me, all alone as I was. At other times he would imagine we were hunting the wary and elusive _pitta,_ and would start up crying, "_Ah! el tinkalu,_ it is there! _por Deos,_ shoot, my English, shoot!" or he would imagine we were after butterflies, and would cry out, _"Caramba, mariposa azul muy grande, muy bueno, bueno!"_ I was forced to do all the cooking for both of us, though it was quite pathetic to see poor Vic's efforts to come to my assistance, and his indignation that his "English" should do such work for him. At one time I half expected that he would die, but with careful nursing and doctoring I gradually brought him round. During all the time that he was ill. I did but little collecting, and no sooner was Vic on the road to recovery than I myself was seized with it, and Vic repaid the compliment by nursing me in turn. It was a most depressing illness, especially as I was living on the poorest fare in a close and dirty hut. When you are ill in civilization, with nurses and doctors and a good bed, you feel that you are in good hands, and confidence does much to help recovery. But it is a different matter being sick in the wilds, without any of these luxuries, and you wonder what will happen if it gets serious. Then you long for home and its luxuries, with a very great longing, and cordially detest the spot you are in, with all those wretched birds and butterflies! It is Eke a long nightmare, but as you get better you forget all this, and the jaundiced feeling soon wears off, and you start off collecting again as keen as ever. One day a small skinny brown dog somehow managed to climb up the bamboo step into my hut during Vic's temporary absence, and I suddenly awoke to find it helping itself to the contents of a plate that Vic had placed by my side. I was far too ill to do more than frighten it away. This happened a second time before I was strong enough to move, but the third time I was well enough to seize my small collecting gun (which was loaded with very small cartridges), and when it was about thirty yards away I fired at it, simply intending to frighten it, as at that distance these small cartridges would hardly have killed a small bird. It stopped suddenly and, after spinning round a few times yelping, it turned over on its back. Even then I thought it was shamming, but on going up to it I found it was dead, with only one No. 8 shot in its spleen. On Vic's return he was much alarmed, as he said the dog belonged to the Negrito chief, who was very fond of it, and would be very angry with me if he knew. So we hid the body in the middle of a clump of bamboo about a quarter of a mile away from the hut. But the following day the sky was thick with a kind of turkey buzzard, which had evidently smelt the dog's corpse from some distance, and they were soon quarrelling over the remains. Vic worked himself up into a state of panic, saying that it would be discovered by the Negritos, but a few days later I sent him over to the Negrito chief's hut to get me some rice, and the chief mentioned that his chief wife had lost her dog, which she was very fond of, and that he thought that I must have killed it. Vic in reply said that that could never be, as in the country that I came from the people were so fond of dogs that they were very kind to them, and treated them like their own fathers. The chief then said that a pig must have killed it, and so the incident ended. About this time Vic asked my permission to return to Florida Blanca for a few days, as he had heard that his wife had run away with another man, and he offered to send his brother to take his place. His brother could also speak English a little, and was assistant schoolmaster to the American. He proved, however, an arrant coward, and, like most Filipinos, lived in great fear of the Negritos. When out with me in the forest he would start, if he heard a twig snap or a bamboo creak, and look fearfully about him for a Negrito. He told me that the Negritos will kill and rob you if they think there is no chance of being found out, and he mentioned a case of an old Filipino being killed and robbed by these same Negritos a few months previously. I managed to string together the following absurd story from his broken English. He said that if you heard a twig break in the forest once or even twice you were safe enough, but if a twig snapped a third time, and you did not call out that you saw the Negrito, you would get an arrow into you. He said that once when he heard the stick "break three time" (to use his own words), he called out "Ah! I see you Negrite, and the Negrite he no shoot, but came out like amigo (friend)." His English was too limited for me to point out the many weak and absurd points of the story, as, for instance, why the Negrito should make the twigs break exactly three times, and why he should not shoot because he thinks he is seen. I only mention this anecdote to illustrate the credulity of the Filipinos. The next day, when we were out collecting in the morning, I suddenly saw him start when a bamboo snapped, so I called out, "Buenos diaz, Señor Negrite." This was too much for my man, who ran off home and refused to follow me in the forest that afternoon, and when I returned that evening he was nowhere to be seen, and I found out later that he had returned to Florida Blanca. In consequence I was forced to do all my own cooking, which was not pleasant, as I had to do it all in the hot sun, and this brought on a return of my fever. At last, one morning, as I was endeavouring to light a fire to cook my breakfast, and muttering unpleasant things about Vic and his brother, I suddenly looked up and Vic stood before me like a. silent ghost. I say like a ghost, because he looked like one, thin and gaunt as he still was from fever. He, too, had had a return of the fever and had not yet recovered, but sooner than that "his English" should be alone, he had dragged himself over in the cool of the night. The next day his wife and two children arrived. She had been on a visit to her mother in another village, which accounted for Vic's thinking she had run away. They occupied the hut of my late neighbour, and before many days had gone they were all bad with fever. It was easy to see that the woman hated me, and imagined I was the cause of her having to come and live in these lonely and unhealthy mountains. Vic told me that there had been so much sickness in Florida Blanca that there was no quinine left in the place. My own stock was getting low, and Vic and his family, as well as myself, used it daily. I had cured the old Negrito chief with it, and he was very grateful to me, and presented me with some very fine arrows in return. For some time past I had heard rumours of an extraordinary tribe of Negritos who lived further back in the mountains, and were named Buquils, and whose women were reported to have beards. Vic, whom I always found to be most truthful in everything, and who rarely exaggerated, declared it was true, and furthermore told me that these Buquils had long smooth hair, which proved that they could not have been Negritos. Besides, I learnt that they were quite a tall people. Nowhere in the whole world is there such a diversity of races as in the Philippines, and so it would be quite impossible even to guess what they were. Vic had once seen some of them himself when they came on a visit to the lower mountains. Though I thought the story, as to the women having beards, a fable, I determined to visit them before I left these mountains, and the old Negrito chief, who also told me that the women really did have beards, offered to lend me some of his people to carry my things. But one day Vic heard that his lather was dying, and when I tried to cheer him up he sobbed in a mixture of broken Spanish and English, "One thousand señoritas can get, one thousand children can get, but lose one father more cannot get." On this account I had to return to Florida Blanca, and besides we were all very bad with constant attacks of fever, and in this village we could at all events get bread, milk and eggs to recuperate us. The American had left for a long holiday, so I managed to hire a small house where I could sort my collections before returning to Manila, where I intended catching a steamer for the south Philippines. One day the village priest (a Filipino) called on me, and in course of conversation we spoke about these Buquils. He was most emphatic that it was true about the women having beards, and he also told me that no Englishman, American or Spaniard had ever penetrated so far back in the mountains as to reach their villages. When he had left I thought it over, and decided to go and see them for myself, though I was still suffering from fever. Vic, whose father had recovered from his illness, declared his willingness to accompany me; in fact I knew that he would never allow me to go without him. He was quite miserable at the idea of our parting, which was close at hand. As luck would have it, the day before we decided to start, Vic was down with fever again, and the following day I was seized with it. Never before or since have I been amongst so much fever as I was in this district. In any case I had made up my mind to see these Buquils, but we had now lost two days, and there was only just enough time left to get there and back and to journey back to Manila and catch my steamer. The day after my attack we started for the mountains once more at about two p.m., my fever being still too bad for me to start earlier. It had been very dry lately, with not a drop of rain and hardly a cloud to be seen, but just as we were starting it came on to rain in torrents and this meant that the rainy season had set in. It seemed as if the very elements were against us, and even Vic seemed struck with our various difficulties. I was sick and feverish, and my head felt like a lump of lead, as I plodded mechanically along in the rain through the tall wet grass. I felt no keenness to see these people at the time, fever removes all that, but I had so got it into my head before the fever that I must go at all hazards, that I felt somehow as if I was obeying someone else. We passed my old residence a short way off, and I stayed the night at the Negrito chief's hut, which I reached long after dark. He seemed very glad to see me again, and turned out most of his family and relations to make room for me. My troubles were not yet ended, as the two Filipinos whom I had engaged to carry my food and bedding could not start till late, and consequently lost their way, and were discovered in the forest by some Negritos, who went in search of them about 2 a.m. Meanwhile I had to lie on the hard ground in my wet clothes, and as I got very cold a fresh attack of fever resulted. I had intended to start off again about four a.m., but it was fully four hours later before we were well on our way. I managed to eat a little before I left, our rice and other food being cooked in bamboo (the regular method of cooking amongst the Negritos). I here noticed for the first time the method employed by the Negrito mothers for giving their babies water; they fill their own mouths with water from a bamboo, and the child drinks from its mother's mouth. In the early morning thousands of metallic green and cream-coloured pigeons and large green doves came to feed on the golden yellow fruit of a species of fig tree (_Ficus_), which grew on the edge of the forest near the chief's hut. They made a tremendous noise, fluttering and squeaking as they fought over the tempting looking fruit. We took five Negritos to carry the rice and my baggage--two men, two women, and a boy. The women, though not much more than girls, were apportioned the heaviest loads; the men saw to that, and looked indignant when I made them reduce the girls' loads. As we continued on our journey, I noticed that our five Negrito carriers were joined by several others all well armed with bows and extra large bundles of arrows, and on my asking Vic the reason, he told me that these Buquils we were going to visit were very treacherous, and our Negritos would never venture amongst them unless in a strong body. As we went along the narrow track in single file some of the Negritos would suddenly break forth into song or shouting, and as they would yell (as if in answer to each other) all along the line, I could not help envying them the extreme health and happiness which the very sound of it seemed to express; my own head meanwhile feeling as if about to split. I shall never forget that walk up and down the steepest tracks, where in some places a slip would have meant a fall far down into a gorge below. If Vic was to be believed, I was the first white man to try that track, and I would not like to recommend it to any others. Deep ravines, that if one could only have spanned with a bridge one could have crossed in five minutes or less, took us fully an hour to go down and up again, and I could never have got down some of them except for being able to hang on to bushes, trees and long grass. Whenever we passed a Negrito hut we took a short rest. My Negritos, however, wanted to make it a long one, as they seemed to be very fond of yarning, and when I insisted on their hurrying on, Vic got frightened and declared they might clear out and leave us, which would certainly have been a misfortune. At length we arrived at a chief's hut, where we had arranged to spend the night. It was situated at the top of a tall, grassy peak, from which I got a wonderful view of the surrounding country: steep wooded gorges and precipices surrounded us on all sides, and in the distance the flat country from whence we had come, and far far away the sea looked like glistening silver. The flat country presented an extraordinary contrast to the rugged mountains which surrounded me. It was so wonderfully flat, not the smallest hill to be seen anywhere, except where the lonely isolated peak of Mount Aryat arose in the distance, and far away one could just see a long chain of lofty mountains. The effect of the shadows of the distant clouds on the flat country was very curious. Early the next morning, at sunrise, the view looked very different, though just as beautiful. The chief seemed very friendly. He was a brother of my old friend, with whom I had stayed the previous night. This chief, however, was very different to his brother, being very dignified, but he had a very good and kind face, whilst my old friend was a "typical comic opera" kind of character. From what I could understand these two and another brother ruled over this tribe of Negritos between them, each being chief of a third of the tribe Soon after my arrival I turned in, as I was very tired and feverish and had had no sleep the previous night. The Negritos, as usual, were very merry and made a great noise for so small a people. I never saw such people for laughter whenever anything amused them, which is very often; they were a great contrast in this respect to the Filipinos. This natural gaiety helps to explain their many and varied dances, one of which consists in their running round after each other in a circle. I felt very much better next morning, and we started off very early, our numbers being increased by the chief and many of his men, so that I now found myself escorted by quite an army. I took note round here of the methods used by the Negritos in climbing tall, thick trees to get fruit and birds-nests. They had long bamboo poles lashed together, which run up to one of the highest branches fully one hundred feet from the ground. They often fastened them to the branch of a smaller tree, and thence slanting upwards to the top of a tall tree, perhaps as much as sixty feet and more away from the smaller tree. These Negritos axe splendid climbers, but it seemed wonderful for even a Negrito to trust himself on one of these bamboos stretching like a thread from tree to tree so far from the ground. I shall never forget the scramble we now had into the deepest gorge of all, and how we followed the bed of a dried-up stream, which in the rainy season must be a series of cascades and waterfalls, since we had to scramble all the way over large slippery boulders covered with ferns and _begonias._ We at length came to a tempting-looking river full of large pools of clear water, into which I longed to plunge. The banks were extremely beautiful, being overhung by the forest, and the rocky cliffs were half hidden by large fleshy-leaved climbers and many other beautiful tropical plants. It was one of those indescribably beautiful spots that one so often encounters in the tropical wilds, and which it is impossible to paint in words. A troop of monkeys were disporting themselves on a tree overhanging the river. Vic was most anxious for me to allow him to shoot one, but I have only shot one monkey in my life, and it is to be the last, and I always try and prevent others from doing so. We waded the river in a shallow place, and climbed up the steep hill on the other side. We had gone a good distance over hills covered with tall grass, and I was now looking forward to a bit of decent walking, as hitherto it had been nearly all miserable scrambling work, and the Negritos told Vic that the worst was now over. But we were approaching a hut, overhanging a rocky cliff, when we heard the sound of angry voices and wailing above us, and we soon perceived four Negritos (three men and a woman) approaching us. I thought the old woman was mad; she was making more noise than all the others put together, shouting and screaming in her fury. At first I thought they might be hostile Negritos who resented our intrusion, but they belonged to the tribe of the chief who was with me, and they were soon talking to him in loud, excited voices. Our own party soon got excited, too, and, as may be imagined, I was longing to find out the cause of all this excitement. Vic soon told me the reason. It appeared that on the previous day a large party of our Negritos had gone into the territory of the Buquils in order to get various kinds of forest produce (as they had often done in the past), and had been treacherously attacked by these Buquils, and many of them killed. One of these was the brother of a sub-chief, who now approached us, and who was, I believe, the husband of the frenzied woman. It was a very excitable scene that followed. I suppose one might call it a council of war. It was a mystery to me where all the Negritos came from and how they found us out; but they came in ones and twos till there was a huge concourse of them present, all gathered round their chief and squatting on the ground. About the only one who behaved sensibly was my friend the chief. He spoke in a slow and dignified manner, but the rest worked themselves up into a furious rage, and twanged their bowstrings, and jumped about and fitted arrows to their bows, and pointed them at inoffensive "papaya" trees, whilst two little boys shot small arrows into the green and yellow fruit, seeming to catch the fever from their elders. One man actually danced a kind of war-dance on his own account, strutting about with his bow and arrow pointed, and getting into all sorts of grotesque attitudes, moving about with his legs stiffened, and pulling the most hideous faces, till I was forced to laugh. But it seemed to be no laughing matter for the Negritos. The old woman beat them all; she did not want anyone to get in a word edgeways, but screamed and yelled, almost foaming at the mouth, till I almost expected to see her fall down in a fit. I never before witnessed such a display of fury. Vic kept me well advised as to the progress of the proceedings, and it was eventually settled that each of the three brother chiefs were to gather together three hundred fighting men, making nine hundred altogether, and these in a few days' time were to go up and avenge the deaths of their fellow tribesmen. From the enthusiasm displayed amongst the little men, this was evidently carried unanimously, but I noticed two young men sitting aloof from the rest of the crowd and looking rather sullen and frightened, and as they did not join in the general warlike demonstrations, it was evidently their first fight. Here, however, I made Vic interrupt in order to draw attention to myself. What Vic translated to me was to the effect that it was out of the question for us to go on into the enemy's country, which we should have reached in another two hours' walk. If we did they would certainly kill us all by shooting arrows into us from the long grass (in other words, we should fall into an ambush), and, in fact, since they had killed some of this tribe they would kill anyone that came into their country. By killing these men they had declared war. This was the sum total of Vic's translation, and I saw at once that it was out of the question for me to go on, as no Negrito would go with me, and I could not go alone. In any case I should have been killed. Vic told me that very few of these Buquils ever leave their mountain valleys, and so most of them had never seen a Filipino, much less a white man. And so I met with a very great disappointment, and was forced to leave without proving whether or no the story of these bearded women was a myth. Lately I heard a rumour that an American had visited them and proved the story true. My disappointment may well be imagined. I had come over the worst track I had ever travelled on in spite of rain and fever, but I at once saw that all my labours were in vain and that I could not surmount this last difficulty. But I was lucky in one way. The chief told Vic that if we had gone yesterday we should all have been killed, as without knowing anything about it, we should have got there just after the fight. So for once fever had done me a good turn, a "providencia," I think Vic called it, as I should have reached my destination the previous day if I had not been delayed by fever. Out of curiosity to see what the chief would say, I told Vic to tell him that I would help him with my gun, but the chief was ungrateful and contemptuous, saying that they would shoot me before I could see to shoot them. Vic thought I was serious, and said he would not go with me, and begged me not to go, saying, in a mixture of English and Spanish, "What will your father, your sister, and your brother say to me when Buquil arrow make you dead?" Needless to say I was not keen on stalking Buquils who were waiting for me with steel arrows in long grass, and, besides, if I went with the gallant little nine hundred, I should miss my steamer. I never heard the result of that fight, much as I should like to have known it. After the meeting had dispersed, we returned to the river and rested. I bathed and took a swim in a big, deep pool under a huge tree, which was one mass of beautiful white flowers. I have never enjoyed a swim more. Vic also took a wash, and to my great surprise one of the Negritos proceeded to copy him, and as Vic soaped himself the Negrito tried to do the same thing with a stone, with which he succeeded in getting rid of a great deal of dirt. It surprised and amused the other Negritos, both men and women, who jeered and roared with laughter at the unusual spectacle of a Negrito washing himself. I signed to them to give our boy carrier a wash, as he seemed the noisiest of the party, and two men got hold of him to duck him, but he seemed so terrified that I stopped them. The youngster evidently hated me for the fright he had received, as later on when I made him a present of a silver ten-cent piece to make up for his fright--this is a very handsome present for a Negrito--he threw it on the ground and stamped his foot in anger. The Negritos shot several fish and large prawns with a special kind of long pointed arrow; these we ate with our rice by the river side before returning. The night I stayed with my old friend, the comic chief, I found him actually in tears and much cut up at the idea of his two sons having to take part in the fight. I suppose it was compulsory for them to fight, but it appeared rather odd to me that a chief should object to his sons taking part in a fight, as the Negritos are considered very plucky fighters. The chief sent four Negritos to carry my things down to Florida Blanca. The following day I started back to Manila, where I caught my steamer for the southern Philippines. Vic was much distressed at my departure and shed many tears as I said good-bye to him, his grief being such that even a handsome tip could not assuage it. PART IV In the Jungles of Cannibal Papua. CHAPTER VII On the War-Trail in Cannibal Papua. Expedition against the Doboduras--We hear reports about a Web-footed Tribe--Landing at the Mouth of the Musa River--A Good Bag--Barigi River Reached--A Flight of Torres Straits Pigeons--A Tropical Night Scene--Brilliant Rues of Tropical Fish--Arrival of Supplies--Prospects of a Stiff Fight--Landing of the Force--Pigs Shot to Prevent them from being Cooked Alive--Novelty of Firearms--A Red Sunrise--Beauty of the Forest--Enemies' War Cry First Heard--Rushing a Village--Revolting Relics of Cannibal Feast--Doboduras eat their Enemies Alive--Method of Extracting the Brains--Extensive Looting--Firing at the Enemies' Scouts--An Exciting Chase--When in Doubt Turn to the Right--Another Village Rushed--Skirmishes with the Enemy--Relics of Cannibalism general in the Villages--Camp Formed at the Largest Village--Capture of Prisoners--An "Object, Lesson"--Carriers ask Leave to Eat one of the Slain--Arigita's Opinion--Cannibal Surroundings at our Supper--Expectation of a Night Attack. We were three white men, Monckton was the resident magistrate, while Acland and I myself were _non-officio_ members of the expedition, being friends of Monckton. We had been some time at Cape Nelson, where the residency was, a lonely though beautiful spot on the north-east coast of British New Guinea. Whilst here I had made good collections of birds and butterflies, and had made expeditions into the surrounding and little known country, including the mountains at the back, where no white man had yet been. And now (September 17th, 1902) we were off on a government exploring and punitive expedition into the unknown wilds of this fascinating and interesting country. We three sat on the stern of the large whale boat, while the twenty police and our four boys took turns at the oars. They were fine fellows these Papuan police, and their uniforms suited them well, consisting as they did of a deep blue serge vest, edged with red braid, and a "sulu" or kilt of the same material, which with their bare legs made a sensible costume for the work they had to perform in this rough country. As they pulled cheerfully at their oars they seemed in splendid spirits, for they felt almost sure that they were in for some fighting, and this they dearly love. Our boys, however, did not look quite so happy, especially my boy Arigita, who was a son of old Giwi, chief of the Kaili-kailis. He--old Giwi--had gone on the previous day with three or four large canoes laden with rice and manned by men of the Kaili-kaili and Arifamu tribes, and we intended taking more canoes and men from the Okeina tribe _en route._ Our expedition was partly a punitive one, as a tribe named Dobodura had been continually raiding and slaughtering the Notu tribe on the coast, with no other apparent reason than the filling of their own cooking pots. Although the Notus lived on the coast, little was known of them, though they professed friendship to the government. The Doboduras, on the other hand, were a strong fighting tribe a short way off in the unknown interior, no white men having hitherto penetrated into their country: hence they knew nothing about the white man except by dim report. After we had settled our account with them we intended going in search of a curious swamp-dwelling tribe, whose feet were reported to be webbed, like those of a duck, and many were the weird and fantastic rumours that reached our ears concerning them. The sea soon got very "choppy," and up went our sail, and we flew along pretty fast. We had left behind us Mount Victory (a volcano which is always sending forth volumes of dense smoke) some time before, and some time afterward we were joined by a fleet of fourteen large canoes, most of them belonging to the Okeina tribe, but also including the three Kaili-kaili canoes sent off on the previous day. We all then went on together, and late in the afternoon we landed at a spot near the mouth of the Musa River. We spent the evening shooting, and had splendid sport, our bag consisting of ducks of various species, pigeon, spur-winged plover, curlew, sandpipers, etc. We also saw wallaby, and numerous tracks of cassowary and wild pig. After some supper on the beach, the Kaili-kaili, Arifamu and Okeina carriers, numbering over one hundred, were drawn up in line, and Monckton told them that he did not want so many carriers. If they (the Okeinas) would like to come, he would not give them more than tobacco, and not axes and knives, which he gave to the Kaili-kaili and Arifamu carriers. They unanimously wished to go even without payment, as they were confident that we should have some big fighting, and they, being a fighting tribe, simply wished to go with us for this reason. Monckton sent off the carriers that night, so that they could get a good start of us. It was a bright moonlight night, and it was a picturesque scene when the fleet of canoes started off amidst a regular pandemonium of shouting and chatter. I do not suppose that this quiet spot had ever before witnessed such a sight. We were off next morning before sunrise, and continued our way in a dead calm and a blazing sun. We soon caught up with our canoes, which had gone on in advance on the previous night. A breeze sprang up and we made good progress under sail, and soon left the canoes far behind. We saw plenty of large crocodiles, and a persevering but much disappointed shark followed us for some distance. We camped that night just inside the mouth of the Barigi River, on the very spot where Monckton was attacked the previous year by the Baruga tribe. They had made a night attack upon him as he was encamped here with his police, and had evidently expected to take him by surprise, as they paddled quietly up. But he was ready for them, and gave the leading canoe a volley, with the result that the river was soon full of dead and wounded men, who were torn to pieces by the crocodiles. The rest fled, but he captured their chief, who was wounded. Upon our arrival late in the afternoon Acland and I started out with our guns after pigeon, taking our boys and some armed police, as it was not safe to venture far from the camp without protection. The vegetation was very beautiful, and there was a wonderful variety of the palm family. We wandered through very thorny and tangled vegetation. We espied a fire not far off and went to inspect it, but saw no natives, though there were plenty of footprints in the sand. Towards evening we saw thousands of pigeons settle on a few trees close by on a small island, but they were off in clouds before we got near. They were what is known as the Torres Straits pigeon, and were of a beautiful creamy-white colour. On the banks of this river were quantities of the curious _nipa_ palm growing in the water. These palms have enormous rough pods which hang down in the water, and there were quantities of oysters sticking to the lower parts of their stems. We dynamited for fish and got sufficient to supply us all with food. About nine p.m. all the canoes turned up and the camp was soon alive with noise and bustle. The carriers had had nothing to eat since the day before, and poor old Giwi, the chief, squeezed his stomach to show how empty he was, but still managed to giggle in his usual childish fashion. They brought with them two runaway carriers who had come from the Kumusi district, where many of the miners start inland for the Yodda Valley (the gold mining centre). They had travelled for five days along the coast, and had hardly eaten anything. They had avoided all villages _en route,_ otherwise they themselves would undoubtedly have furnished food for others, though there was little enough meat on them. There were many different tribes in this neighbourhood, and Monckton was far from satisfied as to the safety of our camp if we were attacked. We sent off a canoe with Okeina men up the river to get provisions from the Baruga tribe who had attacked Monckton the previous year, and they now professed friendship to the government. The Okeinas were friendly with them, but as they paddled away in the darkness Monckton shouted out after them to give him warning when they were coming back with the Baruga people, and they shouted back what was the Okeina equivalent for "You bet we will." We pitched our mosquito nets under a rough shelter of palm leaves, and I lay awake for some time watching the light of countless fire-flies and beetles which flashed around me in the darkness, while curious cries of nocturnal birds on the forest-clad banks and mangroves from time to time broke the stillness of the tropical night, and followed me into the land of dreams, from which I was rudely awakened early the next morning by clouds of small sandflies, which my mosquito net had failed to keep out. We stayed here the following day, and put in part of our time dynamiting for fish at the mouth of the river. It was a curious sight to see the fish blown high into the air as if by a regular geyser. We got about three hundred; they were of numerous species, and most of them of good size. Many were most brilliantly coloured, indeed the fish in these tropical waters are often the most gorgeous objects in nature, and would greatly surprise those who are only used to the fish of the temperate zone. During the day the Okeinas returned. They were followed by several canoes of the Baruga tribe with their chief, who brought us four live pigs tied to poles, besides other native food, which, together with the fish, saved us from using the rice for the police and carriers. New Guinea is not a rice-producing country, and the natives not being used to it, are far from appreciating it. A little later some of the Notu tribe from further north arrived by canoe. They had again been raided by the Dobodura tribe, and many of them killed and captured. They said the enemy were very strong, and Monckton told us that it was more than likely that they could raise one thousand to fifteen hundred fighting men. We determined to resume our journey the next day, and go inland and attack their villages. We seemed likely to be in for a good fight, and the police especially were highly elated. Old Giwi, who bragged so much about his fighting capabilities at starting, shook his head and thought it a tall order, and that we were not strong enough to tackle them. We left again early on the morning of September 20th, the canoes with our carriers having gone on the previous night. Early in the afternoon we passed large villages situated amid groves of coconut palms. These belonged to the Notus, who had been suffering such severe depredations at the hands of the Doboduras. Shortly before arriving at our destination we found the carriers waiting for us on shore, they having too much fear of the Notus to reach their villages before us. We determined to land on the far side of one particularly large village. Rifles were handed around, and we strapped on our revolvers, and all got ready in case of treachery. Then came a scene of excitement as we landed in the breakers. Directly we got into shallow water the police jumped out, and with loud yells rushed the boat ashore. There was still greater excitement getting the canoes ashore amid loud shouting, and one of the last canoes to land, filled, but was carried ashore safely, and only a few bags of rice got wet. We pitched our camp on a sandy strip of land surrounded on three sides by a fresh water lagoon, our position being a good one to defend, in case we were attacked. Monckton then took a few police and went off to interview the Notus. After a time he returned with the information that the Notus appeared to be quite friendly, and anxious to unite with us against the common foe on the morrow. Several of them visited our camp during the day and brought us native food and pigs, which latter Monckton shot with his revolver, to prevent our carriers cooking them alive. It was quite amusing to see the way the Notus hopped about after each report, some of them running away, and small blame to them, seeing that it was the first time that they had ever heard the report of a firearm. The next morning saw us up long before daybreak, and in the dim light we could see small groups of Notu warriors wending their way amid the tall coconuts in the direction of our camp, till about seventy of them had assembled. They were all fully armed with long hardwood spears, stone clubs and rattan shields (oblong in shape and of wood covered with strips of rattan, with a handle at the back), and led the way along the beach. The sun soon rose above the sea a very red colour, and a superstitious person might have considered it an omen of bloodshed. It was hard work walking in the loose sand, and I was glad when we branched off into the bush to walk inland. We passed through alternate forests and open grass land, the forest in places being quite luxuriant, and new and beautiful plants and rare and gaudy birds and butterflies made one long to loiter by the way. Amongst the palm family new to me was a very beautiful _Licuala,_ perhaps the most beautiful of all fan-leaved palms, and a climbing palm, one of the rattans (_Korthalzia_ sp.), with pinkish stems and leaves resembling a gigantic maidenhair fern, which looked very beautiful scrambling over the trees, together with two or three other species of rattans. Our combined force was over two hundred strong, the Notus leading the way, then came most of the police, then we three white men, then more police, and our Kaili-kaili, Arifamu and Okeina carriers brought up the rear bearing our tents, baggage and bags of rice. As we wended our way down the narrow track there were several moments of excitement, and the Notus several times fell back on to us in alarm, but their fears seemed groundless. We continued our march for many hours, and just as we came to the end of a long bit of forest, the Notus came rushing back on to us in great confusion. We soon learned the reason. At the end of a grassy stretch of country was a village surrounded by a thick grove of coconut and betel-nut palms, and some of the enemy's scouts had been seen, and we heard their distant war-cry, a prolonged "ooh-h-h, ah-h-h," which was particularly thrilling, uttered as it was by great numbers of voices. The Notus all huddled together, then replied in like language, but their cry did not seem to possess the same defiant ring as that of the Doboduras. We three took off our helmets and crouched down with the police just inside the forest, with our rifles ready for the expected rush of the enemy, having sent the Notus out into the open, hoping thereby to draw the enemy after them. We meant then to give them a lesson, make some captures, and come to terms with their chief. Two or three times the Notus came rushing back, and I fully expected to see the Doboduras at their heels, but they were evidently aware that the Notus were not alone, and all I could see was the distant village and palm-trees shimmering in the quivering heated air, and the heads of the Dobodura warriors crowned with feather head-dresses bobbing about amid the tall grass, while ever and anon their distant war-cry floated over the grassy plain. We decided to rush the village, which we later found was named Kanau, but when we got there we found it deserted. In the centre of the village was a kind of small raised platform, on which were rows of human skulls and quantities of bones, the remnants of many a gruesome cannibal feast. Many of these skulls were quite fresh, with small bits of meat still sticking to them, but for all that they had been picked very clean. Every skull had a large hole punched in the side of the head, varying in size, but uniform as regards position (to quote from Monckton's later report to the government). The explanation for this we soon learnt from the Notus, and later it was confirmed by our prisoners. When the Doboduras capture an enemy they slowly torture him to death, practically eating him alive. When he is almost dead they make a hole in the side of the head and scoop out the brains with a kind of wooden spoon. These brains, which were eaten warm and fresh, were regarded as a great delicacy. No doubt the Notus recognised some of their relatives amid the ghastly relics. We rested a short time in this village, and our people were soon busy spearing pigs and chickens, and looting. The loot consisted of all sorts of household articles and implements, including wooden pillows, bowls, and dishes, "tapa" cloth of quaint designs, stone adzes, beautiful feather ornaments, "bau-baus" or native bamboo pipes, wooden spears, and a great quantity of shell and dogs'-tooth necklaces. We saw three or four of the enemy scouting on the edge of the forest, and I was asked to try to pick one off, but before I could fire they had disappeared. Then several Notus ran out brandishing spears, and danced a war-dance in front of the forest, but their invitation was not accepted. We next saw several armed scouts on a small tree about five hundred yards away, and we all lined up and gave them a volley; whether we hit any of them or not it is hard to say, but they dropped down immediately into the long grass. At any rate, it must have astonished them to hear the bullets whistling round them, even if they were not hit, as it was the first time they had ever heard the report of a firearm of any description. Some of the police went out to sneak through the long grass, and we soon heard shots, and they came back with the spears, clubs and shields of two men they had killed. They also brought a curious fighting ornament worn on the head, made of upper bills of the hornbill. We continued our march through some thick forest, and at length came to the banks of a river, where we suddenly crouched down. An armed man was crawling along the river bed, peering in all directions, and shouting out to his friends on the opposite bank. We were anxious to make a capture. Monckton suddenly gave the word, and up jumped a dozen police in front of me and plunged into the river and gave chase. I followed hard, but the police in front were gradually leaving me far behind. Till then I always fancied I could run a bit, but I knew better now. Seeing the man's shield, which he had thrown away in his flight, I at once collared it as a trophy of the chase. Then looking around, I found that I was quite alone, and the thick jungle all around me resounded with the loud angry shouts and cries of the enemy. I found out afterwards that my friends and the rest had no intention of giving chase, but had been highly amused in watching my poor effort to keep up with the nimble barefooted police. I shall never forget those uncomfortable few minutes as I rushed down the track in the direction the police had taken. Visions arose before me of the part I should play in a cannibal feast, and I expected every minute to feel the sharp point of a spear entering the small of my back, just as I had been seeing our people drive their spears clean through some running pigs. To my dismay I found the track divided, and it was impossible to tell which way the police had gone. To turn back was out of the question. I had come a good way, and I had no idea where the rest were, and from the uproar at the back I imagined the Doboduras were coming down the track after me. I hastily decided to go by the old saying, "If you go to the right you are right," and it was well for me that I did so, as I found out later from the police that if I had gone to the left--well, there would have been nothing left of me, especially after one Dobodura meal, as the enemy were there in full force. As it was, I soon afterward came up with the police, feeling rather shaky and white. The police had captured a middle-aged woman, whose face and part of her body were thickly plastered with clay. This was a sign of mourning. We learnt that she was a Notu woman, who had been captured some time previously by the Doboduras. She was much alarmed, and whined and beat her breasts, and caressed some of the police. We made her come on with us, and the rest of the party soon joining us, we came to another village, which we "rushed," but it, too, was deserted. There was more killing of fowls and pigs, and a scene of great confusion as our people speared and clubbed them and ran about in all directions, looting the houses, picking coconuts, and cutting down betel-nut palms, many of them decorating themselves with the beautifully variegated leaves of crotons and _dracænas,_ some of which were of species entirely new to me. It seemed a bit curious that these wild cannibals should exhibit such a taste for these gay and brilliantly coloured leaves and flowers, which they had evidently transplanted from forest and jungle to their own village. We continued our way through bush and open country, our police having slight skirmishes with small bands of natives. One big Dobodura rushed at Sergeant Kimi with uplifted club, but Kimi coolly knelt down and shot him in the stomach when he was only a few yards off. The round, sharp stone on the club being an extra fine one, I soon exchanged it with Kimi for two sticks of tobacco (the chief article of trade in New Guinea, and worth about three half-pence a stick). Toku, Monckton's boy, and a brother of my boy, Arigita, who carried his master's small pea-rifle, shot a man in the back with it as the man fled, and thereafter was a hero among the boys. Arigita wished to emulate his brother, and begged hard to do some shooting on his own account with my twelve-bore shot gun, which he carried, and he seemed very much hurt because I would not allow it. We passed through many more villages, embowered in palm groves, and in each village we saw plenty of human skulls and long sticks with human jawbones hanging upon them. On one I counted twenty-five; there were also long rows of the jawbones of pigs, and a few crocodiles' heads. These villages were all deserted, the natives having fled. At length we came to what appeared, from its great size, to be the chief village, which we later learnt was named Dobodura. It extended some distance, and stood amid thousands of coconut palms. Here we determined to camp, but we found that most of the police had rushed on ahead after the Doboduras, much to Monckton's annoyance, for it was risky, to say the least, as the enemy might easily have attacked each party separately. But the police and carriers, now that they had "tasted blood," seemed to get quite out of hand, and their savagery coming to the surface, they rushed about as if demented. However, they soon returned with more captured weapons of warfare, having killed two more men, and they also brought two prisoners, a young man and a young woman. The prisoners looked horribly frightened, having never seen a white man before, and they thought they would be eaten: so Constable Yaidi told me. The man was a stupid looking oaf, and seemed too dazed to speak. The woman, however, if she had been washed, would have been quite good-looking. She had rather the European type of features, and was quite talkative. She told us that most of her people had gone off to fight a mountain tribe, who had threatened to swoop down on this village. These complications were getting exceedingly Gilbertian in character. To begin with, the Kaili-kaili and Arifamu carriers were afraid of the Okeinas, who in their turn were afraid of the Notus; the Notus feared this Dobodura tribe we were fighting, and the Doboduras seemed to be in fear of a mountain tribe. We ourselves were by no means sure of the Notus, and kept on guard in case of treachery. These tribes, we heard, were nearly always fighting, and always have their scouts out. To return to the prisoners. We showed them how a bullet could pass clean through a coconut tree, and they seemed to be greatly impressed. They were then told to tell their chief to come over the next morning and interview us, and that we wished to be friendly. We then gave them some tobacco and told them they could go, and it was evident that they were astonished beyond words at their good fortune. As they passed through our police and carriers, I feel sure that they suspected us of some trick on them. A bathe in the cool, clear river close by was delightful after a very hard day, but we, of course, had an armed guard of police around us, and practically bathed rifle in hand, as the growth was dense on the opposite bank. Our people seemed to be quite enjoying themselves, looting the houses, and one of the police was chasing a pig in this village, when he was attacked by a man with a club. The policeman was unarmed, but immediately wrenched the club from the man's hand and smashed his skull in, and the body lay barely one hundred yards from our tent. This was too tantalizing for our carriers, who came up and begged permission to eat it, although they knew full well that Monckton had given orders that there was to be no cannibalism among them. Needless to remark, the request was refused, but they had the pluck to ask again before the expedition was over. My boy Arigita had often eaten human meat, and as he expressed it in his quaint pidgin English, "Pig no good, man he very good." It can be imagined it must be really good, as the Papuan thinks a great deal of pig. We had a good appetite for supper, in spite of the fact that we ate it within a few yards of a half-burnt heap of human skulls and bones, which appeared quite fresh. Our various tribes were all camped separately, and they looked very picturesque round their different camp fires, with their spears stuck in the ground in their midst, their clubs and shields by their sides, and the firelight flickering upon their wild-looking faces. To our astonishment, our late man prisoner returned and said that his chief wished to see us that night. At once there was a great commotion among our police and the Notus, who all spoke excitedly together, and were unanimous that this implied treachery, and that behind the chief would come his men, who would attack us unawares. We also learned that it was not their usual habit to make friendly visits at night. Monckton thought the same, and told the man that if the chief or any of his people came near the camp that night they would be shot. The man also informed us that all his tribe had returned; no doubt swift messengers went after them to bring them back. The man went, and we waited expectantly for what might happen. Everyone seemed certain that we should be attacked, and if so, we had a very poor chance with from a thousand to fifteen hundred well-armed savages making a rush on us in the semi-darkness, as there was no moon, and it was cloudy. The enemy would rush up and close with our people, and while we should not be able to distinguish friend from foe, we should not be able to fire in the darkness at close quarters. They could then spear and club us at will. Now we had always heard that Papuans never attack at night, but the police and Notus told us that these Doboduras nearly always attacked at night, and if we had known this before we should most certainly have made ourselves a fortified camp outside the village. But it was too late to think of this now, and we knew that we were in a very awkward position. The fact that they could gather together so large a force as was alleged, was estimated by Monckton from the size of these villages, which showed that they were a very powerful tribe. The whole police force were put out on sentry duty, as also four or five Kaili-kailis who had been taught at Cape Nelson to use a rifle. CHAPTER VIII We Are Attacked By Night. A Night Attack--A Little Mistake--Horrible Barbarities of the Doboduras--Eating a Man Alive--A Sinister Warning--Saved by Rain--Daylight at Last--"Prudence the Better Part"--The Return--Welcome by the Notus--"Orakaiba." I was busily engaged in writing my notes of the day, with my rifle by my side, when suddenly a shot rang out, followed by another and another, then a volley from all the sentries on one side of the camp, and the darkness was lit up by the flashes of their rifles. Then came the thrilling war-cry, "Ooh-h-h-h! ah-h-h-h!" that made one's blood run cold, especially under such surroundings. All the camp was now in the utmost confusion, and there was a great panic among our carriers, who flung themselves on the ground yelling with fear. Never was there such a fiendish noise! I sprang to my feet, flinging my note-book away and picking up my rifle, and ran back to where Monckton was yelling out: "Fall in, fall in, for God's sake fall in!" Two houses were hastily set on fire, and instantly became furnaces which lit up the surroundings and the tops of the tall coconut palms over-head, which even in this moment of danger appeared to me like a glimpse of fairyland. I noticed a line of fire-sticks waving in the darkness outside. They seemed to be slowly advancing, and in the excitement of the moment I mistook them for the enemy--and fired! Luckily, my shot did not take effect, as I soon found out that these fire-sticks were held by some of our own carriers, who had been told by Monckton to carry them so that we could distinguish them from the enemy in case we were attacked. Monckton turned to where the Notus, were, and seeing them all decked out in their war plumes, dancing about among the prostrate carriers, and waving their clubs and spears, naturally took them for Dobodura warriors, and nearly fired at them. He angrily ordered them to take off their feathers. Calmness soon settled down again, and we learned that the police had fired at some Doboduras who were creeping up into the camp. How many there were we could not tell, but later on we learnt that some of them had been killed, and seeing the flash of the rifles, which was a new experience to them, the rest had retreated for the time being, but soon rallied together for attack that night or in the small hours of the morning. Knowing that if they once rushed us in the darkness we should all be doomed for their cooking pots, the state of our feelings can be imagined. The first attempt came rather as a shock to a peaceful novice like myself, and seeing warriors in full war paint and feathers rushing about with uplifted club and spear amid our prostrate squirming carriers, I had a very strong inclination to bury myself in the nearest hut and softly hum the lines, "I care not for wars and quarrels," etc. We sat talking in subdued tones for some time, expecting every minute to hear the thrilling war cry of the Doboduras, but nothing was to be heard but the crackling of the embers of the burning houses, the low murmur of our people around their camp fire, and the most dismal falsetto howls of the native dogs in the distance. These howls were not particularly exhilarating at such a time, and I more than once mistook them for the distant war-cry of the Doboduras. The Papuans, as a rule, do not torture their prisoners for the mere idea of torture, though they have often been known to roast a man alive, for the reason that the meat is supposed to taste better thus. This they also do to pigs, and I myself, on this very expedition, caught some of our carriers making preparations to roast a pig alive, and just stopped them in time. For this reason Monckton would always shoot the pigs brought in for his carriers, but in this case one pig was overlooked. I have heard of cases of white men having been roasted alive, one case being that of the two miners, Campion and King. But we had learnt that this Dobodura tribe had a system of torture that was brutal beyond words. In the first place they always try to wound slightly and capture a man alive, so that they can have fresh meat for many days. They keep their prisoner tied up alive in the house and cut out pieces of his flesh just when they want it, and we were told, incredible as it seems, that they sometimes manage to keep him alive for a week or more, and have some preparation which prevents him from bleeding to death. Monckton advised both Acland and myself to shoot ourselves with our revolvers if we saw that we were overwhelmed, so as to escape these terrible tortures, and he assured us that he should keep the last bullet in his own revolver for himself. This was my first taste of warfare. Monckton had had many fights with Papuans, and Acland, besides, had seen many severe engagements in the Boer war, but he said he would rather be fighting the Boers than risking the infernal tortures of these cannibals. It all, somehow, seemed unreal to me, and I could hardly realise that I was in serious danger of being tortured, cooked and eaten. It is impossible to depict faithfully our weird surroundings. We chatted on for some time, and tried to cheer each other up by making jokes about the matter, such as "This time to-morrow we shall be laughing over the whole affair," but the depressed tone of our voices belied our words, and it proved to be but a very feeble attempt at joking. We longed for the moon, though that would have helped us little, as it was cloudy. It is quite unnecessary to go into further details of that awful night. I know we all owned up afterward that it was the most trying night we had ever spent, and for my part I hope I may never spend another like it. None of us got a wink of sleep. I tried to sleep, but I was too excited to do so; besides, all my pockets were crammed full of rifle and revolver cartridges, and I had my revolver strapped to my side, ready for an attack, or in case we got separated in the confusion that was sure to ensue. At about 3 a.m. it began to rain, the first rain we had had in New Guinea for five or six weeks, and that saved us, for we learned later on that about that time the Doboduras were gathering together for a rush on our camp, when the rain set in, and, odd as it may seem, we heard that they had a superstition against attacking in the rain. What their reason was, I never got to hear fully, but we were unaware of all these things as we silently waited and longed for the dawn to break. I never before so wished for daylight. It came at length, and what a load it took off our minds! We could now see to shoot at all events. We saw the Dobodura scouts in the distance on the edge of the forest, but we had made up our minds to "heau" (Papuan for "run away") as things were too hot for us. There was a scene of great excitement as we left, and from the noise our people made they were evidently glad to get away. The Notus led the way, and they started to hop about, brandishing their spears. They did excellent scouting work in the long grass, rushing ahead with their spears poised. This time the rear guard was formed by some of the police. All the villages we passed through were again deserted, but we heard the enemy crying out to one another in the forest and jungle, telling each other of our whereabouts. We expected an attack, and I often nearly mistook the screeches and cries of cockatoos and parrots and the loud, curious call of the birds of paradise for some distant war-cry, which was quite excusable, considering the state of our nerves and the sleepless night we had spent. The Notus were great looters, and as we passed through the various villages they took everything they could lay their hands on, and our entrance into a village was marked by a scene of great confusion. Pigs and chickens were speared, betel-nut palms cut down, and hunting nets, bowls, spears and food hauled out of the house, but Monckton was very strict in stopping them from cutting houses and coconut palms down. Ere long we left the last village behind, and halting just inside the forest, sent a man up a tree, who reported the last village we had passed through to be full of people. The police had a few shots, but apparently without success. When we again reached the coast we knew that we were now safe from attack. Monckton was much puzzled that no attack had been made on us during the return journey, as he felt sure they were not afraid of us, and after we had killed so many of their people he was certain they would try for revenge. He also thought they expected us to camp that night in their country, and that we were only out hunting for them, as we did not hurry away very fast, but stopped a short time in each village. We found the tide high, so we took off our boots and waded most of the way, and in time arrived at a creek up which the sea was rushing in and out with great violence. We were helped over by police on each side of us, who half dragged us across, otherwise we should have been washed off our legs, so great was the suction. I was very fond of these strong, plucky, good tempered and amusing Papuan police. Often when we were encamped for the night, I would hear them chaffing each other in pidgin English for the benefit of the "taubadas" (masters); they would slyly turn their heads to see if we were amused, and how delighted they were if they saw us smile at their quaint English, In the evening we found ourselves back in the Notu villages, and were met by many Notus bearing coconuts, which they opened and handed to us. I suppose these were meant as refreshment for the victors, for as such they no doubt regarded us, as well as saviours of their tribe. I could quite imagine the Notu warriors bragging on their return of their own deeds of valour, although all the killing was done by the police. Meanwhile, however, as we passed through the squatting crowds, we were greeted with loud cries of "orakaiba" (peace). CHAPTER IX On the War-Trail Once More. Further Expedition Planned--Thank-offerings of Notu Chiefs--The Voyage--A Gigantic Flatfish--Negotiating a Difficult Bar--Moat Unhealthy Spot in New Guinea--Hostility of Natives--Precautions at Night--Catching Ground Sharks and a "Groper"--Shark-flesh a Delicacy to the Natives--Wakened by a War Cry--A False Alarm--A Hairbreadth Escape--Between "Devil and Deep Sea"--Dangers of the Goldfield--Two Miners Eaten Alive--Unexpected Visit from a White Man--"Where's that Razor?"--Crime of Cutting Down a Coconut Tree--Walsh's Camp--Torres Straits Pigeons--My Boy an ex-Cannibal--A Probable Trap--Relapse into Cannibalism of our Own Allies--Narrow Escape from a New Guinea Mantrap--Attack on a Village--Second Visit to Dobodura--Toku's Exploit--Interview with our Prisoners--Reasons for Cannibalism--The Night Attack on our Camp and Enemies' Fear of our Rifles described by our Prisoners--Bravery of one of our Carriers--Treatment of a Prisoner. "Yes," said Monckton on our return to the coast, "we have got to punish those Doboduras at all costs. They are the worst brutes I've come across in New Guinea." And Monckton knew what he was talking about, as he had been a resident magistrate in British New Guinea for many years and had travelled all over the country, and had a wider experience of the cannibals than any man living. This tribe (as has already been mentioned), when they capture a prisoner, tie him to a post, keep him alive for days, and meanwhile feed on him slowly by cutting out pieces of flesh, and prevent his bleeding to death with a special preparation of their own concoction, and finally, when he is nearly dead, they make a hole in the side of the head and feed on the hot fresh brains. Both Acland and I myself fully agreed with Monckton, as we were not by any means grateful to the Doboduras for giving us the worst fright of our lives. We had, it is true, killed a good many of them, but we recognised the fact that our force was insufficient to hold its own, much less to punish these brutal tribesmen. So we determined to journey up north and get help from the magistrate of the Northern Division on the Mambare River, before returning to the Dobodura country. That evening four Notu chiefs came into camp to thank us for killing their enemies, and they brought with them presents of dogs' teeth and shell necklaces, and seemed greatly excited, all talking at once, each trying to out-talk his fellows, and wagged their heads at us in turn. We left very early the next morning in our whaleboat for the Kumusi River, but left all our carriers and stores with most of the police behind in one of the Notu villages to await our return, as we now felt sure that we could trust the Notu tribe. It was a hot and uneventful voyage. A fish which looked like an enormous sole, but which was larger than the whaleboat, jumped high in the air not many yards away. Toward evening we arrived opposite the bar of the Kumusi River, and we had a very uncomfortable few minutes getting through the breakers into the river, for if we had been upset we should soon have become food for the sharks and crocodiles, which literally swarmed here. We got through the worst part safely, but then stuck fast on a small sand-bank, and one or two good-sized breakers half-filled the boat; but we all jumped out and hauled her off the sand into the deep, calm waters beyond. After rowing up the river a short distance, we landed at a spot where there was a trader's store, looked after by an Australian named Owen. From here miners go up the river to the gold fields in the Yodda Valley, and cutters are constantly putting in at this store with miners and provisions. This district has the reputation of being one of the most unhealthy spots in New Guinea, and the natives round here are none too friendly, and hate the government and their police, so that during the last three years, three or four resident magistrates in the locality have either been murdered or have died of fever. We arranged to have our meals with Owen at the store, and we slept in a rough palm-thatched shed with a raised flooring of split palm-trunks, which was very hard and rough to sleep on, and gave me a sleepless night. We got two of our police to sleep in front of the doorway, as it was more than likely that the natives might attempt to murder us. These precautions may have been justified as, in the middle of the night both Acland and I myself saw two natives peering into the hut. The next day we sent off a messenger to the northern station for more police, and it was fully a week before they arrived. Meanwhile we spent our time dynamiting and catching fish. We caught some large ground sharks fully four hundred pounds in weight, and also a "gorupa" ("groper"), a very large fish of about three hundred and fifty pounds. This fish is the terror of divers in these parts they fear it more than any shark. Both shark and fish proved most acceptable to our police; they are especially fond of shark. One morning about five o'clock I was aroused by hearing a shrill war-cry close by. The police rushed up with their rifles and told us we were attacked. It can be imagined it did not take us long to buckle on our revolvers and seize our rifles and run, half-asleep as we were, in the direction of the noise, which was repeated from time to time in a very ferocious manner. On turning a sharp corner by the river, instead of warlike warriors, we beheld about a dozen natives hauling in the sharkline we had left baited in the water the previous evening, with a very large shark at the end of it. Being greatly excited they had from time to time yelled out their war-cry. We felt very foolish at being roused from our slumbers for nothing, but still there was some slight consolation in knowing that even the police were deceived. Owen, the Australian, not long before had had rather an amusing, and at the same time exciting, adventure with a large crocodile in a swamp close to the store. He noticed it fast asleep in the swamp, and so waded out to it through the mud, making no noise whatever. When within a few yards of the saurian, he threw a double charge of dynamite close up to it, and then turned to fly. He found he could not move, but was stuck firmly in the mud. His struggles and yells for help had meanwhile awoke the crocodile, which came for him with open jaws. It looked as if it was a case of either being blown to pieces by the dynamite or furnishing a meal for the crocodile. Luckily the fuse was a long one, and the crocodile floundered about a good deal in the mud ere it could reach him. Some friendly natives rushed in and dragged him out just as the crocodile reached him. The crocodile fled in one direction and the dynamite went off in another, but Owen and the natives only just avoided the explosion. Owen told me that there were about fifty miners in the goldfields of the Yodda Valley, but that most of them were beginning to leave, although there is plenty of gold to be got. The climate is a bad one, and provisions, etc., are very dear, and so gold has to be got in very large quantities to pay. As the miners decrease, there is bound to be trouble with the natives, who are very treacherous. The miners, who are nearly all Australians or New Zealanders, have generally to work in strong bands with their rifles close at hand. Only a short time ago the two miners, Campion and King (whom I have elsewhere mentioned), while working in the bed of a creek, had just traded with some apparently friendly natives for a pig and some yams, and sat down for a smoke and a rest, thinking that the natives had left, but these cunning cannibals were awaiting just such an opportunity, and were lying hid amidst the thick foliage clothing the steep banks of the creek. Suddenly, making a rush, they got between the miners and their rifles, and speared both in the legs, taking care not to kill them, as the cannibals in this part of New Guinea consider that meat tastes better, be it pig or man, when cooked alive. They then tied them with ropes of rattan to long poles and carried them off to their village, where they were both roasted alive over a slow fire. These facts were gathered from some prisoners afterwards captured by a government force. A strong band of miners also attacked their villages, and gave no quarter. On the fifth day of our stay here one of our police came rushing up to us excitedly with the information that a whaleboat was in sight, and we knew that a white man would be in it. There was at once a cry from Monckton, "After you with the razor, Acland." Now it had been understood that none of us were to shave during the expedition, and consequently we had grown large crops of beards and whiskers, and looked a veritable trio of cut-throats. However, it appeared that Acland had smuggled away a razor-possibly for all we knew to enable him to captivate some fair Amazon, who might otherwise have thought he was only good for her cooking pot. Half-an-hour later three clean-shaven individuals met a tall unshaven man as he stepped out of his boat on to the beach, and his first remark was, "Oh, I say, (reproachfully) you fellows, where's that razor!" It was Walsh, Assistant Resident Magistrate for the Northern Division, and none of us had met him before. He and another Englishman, a celebrated trader named Clark (he was an old resident, well-known in New Guinea), with a force of police, were returning from an expedition down the coast, and were at present encamped about sixteen miles south of here, near some small islands known as Mangrove Islands. Leaving Clark in charge, Walsh had come over with a small cutter, which we promptly hired to carry the extra stores of rice and provisions which we had purchased from Owen. It is astonishing the amount of rice it takes to feed one hundred carriers and twenty-five native police during a six weeks' exploring expedition. Two days later ten police arrived, sent down at Monckton's request from the Mambare or Northern Station. These, with Walsh's nine, made an addition of nineteen police to our force. A celebrated old Mambare chief named Busimaiwa arrived at the same time, together with many of his tribe, which was friendly to the government. I say celebrated because he was the leader in the murder of the resident magistrate of the Northern Division, the late Mr. ----, together with all his police. But he has since been pardoned by the government. The magistrate and his police were killed through treachery, being unarmed at the time. They were all eaten, but ----'s skull was afterwards recovered. Old Busimaiwa, had a son in our police force. We were off early the next morning, we four white men and most of the police going in the two whaleboats, while the rest walked along the shore. These latter had to pass through many small villages on the way, but the inhabitants did not wait to find out whether they were friends or foes, and the police found the villages empty. From the whaleboat I suddenly noticed a tall coconut palm come falling to the ground, and I immediately called Monckton's attention to the fact. He was very much annoyed, as he knew that it was cut down by some of our party, contrary to regulations. According to government laws, to cut down a coconut tree in New Guinea is a crime, and a serious one at that. Even when attacking a hostile village it is strictly forbidden, though one may loot houses, kill pigs, out down betel-nut palms, and even kill the inhabitants. But the coconut-palm is sacred in their eyes. However, the government has an eye to the future of the country, as, besides being the main article of food in a country whose food supply is limited, the coconut tree means wealth to the country, when it gets more settled and the natives are able to do a large business in copra with the white traders. That evening, when in camp, we discovered the culprit to be no less a personage than the sergeant of Walsh's police, who was in command of the shore party, his sole excuse for breaking the law being that he thought it too much trouble to climb the tree after the coconuts. When the whole of the police force had been drawn up in line Monckton, as leader of the expedition, cut the red stripes from the blue tunic of the sergeant, and he was reduced to the ranks. After a rough voyage, there being a good swell on, we arrived at Walsh's camp on the mainland, opposite the Mangrove Islands, and here we found Clark, whom I had met before in Samarai. The camp was situated in the midst of a small native village, and later on the inhabitants and others turned up armed with their stone clubs, spears and shields, and offered to help us. They also wanted us to go and fight their enemies a short way inland from here. Monckton's reply was not over polite. He ended by ordering them at once to clear out of their village, as he had no use for them. Toward evening we all went pigeon shooting, as thousands of Torres Straits pigeons flock round here at twilight and settle chiefly on the small islands close to the mainland. We had excellent sport. The birds flew overhead, and we shot a great number between us. Three of us white men were down with fever that evening. As the cutter had not arrived with the rice, etc., from the Kumusi River, we had to remain here the whole of the next day. Toward evening we again went pigeon shooting, each of us taking possession of a small island, but the birds were not nearly as plentiful as yesterday, and small bags were the result. On these islands were plenty of houses, which we heard were deserted a few weeks ago, owing to the frequent attacks of hungry cannibals on the mainland. On my island I discovered several very fresh-looking human skulls and bones. My boy, Arigita, regaled me with yarns while we waited for the pigeons. He told me he had often eaten human meat, and expressed the same opinion on the matter as the ex-cannibals I had met in the interior of Fiji had done. I had good reason for suspecting the young rascal of having partaken of human meat since he had been my servant. I noticed plenty of double red hibiscus bushes on these islands, and I came across a new and curious _dracæna_ with extremely short and broad red and green leaves, that was certainly worth introducing into cultivation. We continued our journey in the whaleboats the next morning, and after going some distance we heard a shout, and saw a man on the beach frantically waving to us, but as he would not venture near enough, we had to go on without finding out what was the matter. Shortly afterward we heard three loud blasts on a conch shell, which is always used to call natives together, but the bush being thick, we could see nothing. I myself believe it was a trap, the man evidently trying to get us ashore, so that his tribe might attack us. However, our shore party, who came along later, saw no sign of any natives. Towards evening we landed at the spot where we had started inland last time against the Doboduras. Here we determined to camp. We immediately sent down to Notu for our carriers and the rest of the police, who arrived after dark, all seeming delighted and relieved to be with us once more. We learned that after we had left the Notu people killed and ate two runaway carriers from the Kumusi, and after indulging in a great feast, fled and deserted their villages, so our late cannibalistic allies evidently feared retribution at our hands. These carriers, belonging to the miners in the Kumusi and Mambare districts, are constantly running away, and they then try to work their way down the coast to Samarai, from whence they are shipped. But they never get there, being always killed and eaten on the way. One of our own carriers had died at Notu, but the police had seen to it that he was properly buried. However, it is more than likely that he was dug up after they had left, and eaten. The cutter arrived early the next morning.. The rice was soon landed, and we started off along the same track as before. We now had over forty police, and although we did not this time have the assistance of the Notus, we had many more carriers. During this march our police luckily discovered in time some slanting spears set as a man trap, which projected from the tall grass over the narrow track. Such spears are hard to see, especially for anyone travelling at a good speed, and I was told that the points were poisoned. Another trap, common in New Guinea, is to place a fallen tree across the track and dig a deep pit on the other side from which the enemy is expected to come. This pit is filled with sharp upright spears, and then lightly covered over so that a man stepping over the tree, which hides the ground on the other side, will fall into the pit. After marching for some distance, we came to the end of a bit of forest, from whence we could see the first hostile village. We frightened away several armed scouts. The village appeared to be full of armed men in full war-paint and plumes, so we divided our force into two parties, each cutting round through the forest on both sides of the village, in an endeavour to surprise the enemy. We were only partially successful, as the Doboduras discovered our plans just in time. Though we rushed the village, and a few shots were fired, we only succeeded in capturing two old men and a small boy, who were not able to get away in time. The houses were full of household goods, in spite of our previous raid, when this and other villages were well looted by our people, so we were evidently not expected to return. We did not stay long here, but soon resumed our march. It was a very hot day, and after walking through the open bits of grass country, it was always pleasant to get into the cool and shady forest, full of delicate ferns, rare palms and orchid-laden trees. We passed on through two other villages, with their gruesome platforms of grinning skulls as the only vestige of humanity. At length we came to the large village, which is named Dobodura, after the tribe, and in which we had spent such a horrible night on our last visit. The village was full of yelling warriors. Rushing up, we shot several who showed fight. Most of them, however, fled before us. Toku, Monckton's boy, and brother of my boy Arigita, again made use of his master's pea-rifle, but this time he did not meet with any success, and very narrowly escaped getting a spear through him. A short time before, when Monckton was out on an expedition, Toku was carrying his master's revolver, but happened to lag behind the rest of the party without being noticed, when a man jumped out of the jungle and picked young Toku up in his arms, covering up his mouth so that he could not cry out, and proceeded to carry him off, no doubt intending to have a live roast. But Toku, managing to draw Monckton's revolver, shot him dead right through the head, and Monckton, hearing the shot, turned back, and soon discovered young Toku calmly sitting on his enemy's dead body. But, alas! the hero had to suffer in the hour of his triumph, as Monckton ordered him to be flogged for lagging behind the rear guard of police. Besides killing several of the Doboduras, we also took several prisoners, both men and women. We rested here, but several of the police, whose fighting blood was now fully roused, went out with some of our armed natives, skirmishing in one or two parties till late, and we could hear shots in all directions. As we found out later, they had slain several more of the enemy, with no loss to themselves. We chose a splendid camp, with the river (which we were informed was the Tamboga River) on one side. The forest trees were felled on the other side, forming a strong barrier, very different from our last camp here in the centre of the village, and without any defences at all. We had a most refreshing bathe in the river, but kept our rifles close at hand, as the enemy could have easily speared us from the reeds on the opposite bank. After supper we interviewed the prisoners, and we now learned the real sequel to our last visit and what a narrow escape we had that night from being all massacred. It appeared that our fighting during the daytime astonished them much, as they could not understand how we could kill at such a distance, rifles being quite new to them. Our fame soon reached a large village much further on, and they said to the Dobodura people: "Ye are all cowards; we will show you that we can destroy these strange people." They started off that night and surrounding our camp on all sides, crept up for a rush; but, luckily for us, our sentries saw some of them and fired. The first shot killed one of them, and others were hit. Then came the blaze of many rifles. This terrified them and they fled. The horrible noise of the rifles and the flashes of fire in the darkness astonished them, but what made them depart for good was seeing one of their men fall at the first shot. It was a very lucky shot, and it probably saved our lives that night. When asked why they raided the Notus, the prisoners said that they were friends until two years ago, when they quarrelled, and had been constantly fighting since. In particular they now blamed the Notus for the late drought, which they said was due to their sorcery, the result being that they were forced to live on sago alone, and to vary this diet were compelled to get human meat. I was the only one out of five white men not down with fever, but I was glad that we passed a quiet night, with no attack on the camp. In the morning one of our carriers, who ventured less than fifty yards beyond the barrier, received a spear through his left arm and another through his side, and though I am almost afraid to relate it for fear of being thought guilty of exaggeration, the man plucked the spear out of his side in a moment, and, hurling it back, killed his opponent. I ventured outside and proved the truth of the man's story, by finding the Dobodura man transfixed with his own spear. Both our man's wounds were bad ones, but he did not seem to mind them at all, and was for some time surrounded by a crowd of admiring natives. We started off early in search of a large village of which a prisoner told us, but had not gone far when a man jumped out of the long grass and threw a spear at one of our carriers, only a few paces in front of me. Fortunately he missed him, but only by a few inches. As he was preparing to throw another spear, one of our men, whom he had not noticed, owing to an abrupt bend in the narrow track, which brought him close to the spearman, sprang forward and buried his stone club in the man's head, who sank down without a groan. It was cloudy, but very close, and we passed through open grass country, bounded on each side by tall forest, in which bird-life seemed plentiful, cockatoos and parrots making a great noise. Birds of paradise were also calling out with their very noticeable and peculiar falsetto cry. After going some distance we catechized the prisoners, and while an old man declared that there was a large village ahead, the two women prisoners said that the track was only a hunting one and led to the mountains. The old man evidently wanted to get us away from his village, to enable his tribe to return, but the women, not being so loyal, told us the truth, no doubt because they found the forced marching on a hot day a little too much for them. We sat down for a consultation, but hearing a loud outcry in the rear, I suddenly came across about a dozen of the now indignant police pelting the old man with darts made out of a peculiar kind of grass, which grew around here. The old man, who was handcuffed, hopped high in the air, uttering loud yells every time a dart hit him, so I imagined they hurt, and though I, too, felt much annoyed, I had to put a stop to this cruel sport, when one of the aggrieved policemen cried out to me: "Taubada (master), why you stop him get hurt? This fellow he ki-ki (eat) you if he get chance." CHAPTER X The Return From Dobodura. Horrible Fate of one of our Enemies--Collecting in Cannibal--Haunted Forest--I Shoot a new Kingfisher, and a Bird of Paradise--Natives' Interest in Bird-Stuffing--Return Journey begun--Tree-house in a Notu Village--Peacemaking Ceremonies--Notu Village described--Our Allies sentenced for Cannibalism--Parting with Walsh and Clark. We decided to return, and sent off a strong body of police in advance to surprise some of the surrounding villages. On the way back we found the man who was brained by one of our carriers still breathing. He was a ghastly sight, with his brains projecting out, and he was being eaten alive by swarms of red ants, which almost hid his body and found their way into his eyes, ears and nose. By the convulsions that from time to time shook the man's body, he was evidently still conscious, but could not possibly have lived for more than a few hours at most, after our thus finding him. New Guinea, like most tropical countries, had its full share of these pests (ants), some species of which actually make webs, and, by way of supplementing the web itself, work leaves in. Acland, who had been suffering all day long from bad fever, now collapsed and could walk no further, but had to be carried in a hammock. When we got back to our old camping ground, I took an armed guard of police and went in search of birds for my collection, in the adjoining forest, and shot a new kingfisher (_Tanysiptera_) and a bird of paradise (_Paradisea intermedia_). It was rather exciting work, as one went warily through the thick growth, from whence might issue a spear any minute, and I held on to my rifle all the time, except, of course, when I saw a bird, and then I made a quick change to my shotgun, lest I should prove a case of the hunter hunted. On my return I had a large crowd of carriers around me watching me skin my birds, while Arigita explained everything to them in lordly fashion, only too pleased to get the chance of being listened to, while he expounded to them his superior knowledge. What he told them I, of course, could not tell, but he informed me that when I put the final stitch in the nostrils of the birds, my audience declared that I did this to prevent the birds from breathing and so one day coming to life again. When the wise Arigita asked them how this could be, since they had seen me take out the body and brains, they scoffed at him and said that spirits would come inside the skins so that they could sing again. Monckton, meanwhile, had made a raid on the native gardens and brought in quite a lot of taro. The police had killed several more Doboduras, and in one place they had quite a fight. Our old man prisoner escaped in the night, although he was handcuffed. We returned to the coast the next day, as there seemed no chance of our coming to terms with these Doboduras. Our only chance would have been to defeat them in a big engagement. They seemed too frightened of us to stand up for a big fight, but hid themselves in the bush, and were thus hard to get at. We left ten police behind to trap the natives, and, thinking we had left, a few of them returned to the village, and the police shot four more of them and soon caught up with us, bringing in the shields, stone clubs and spears of the slain. During both these expeditions we had killed a good many of these people, and it ought to be a lesson to them to leave the Notus alone in future, although there is little doubt that the Notus themselves make cannibalistic raids on some of their weaker neighbours. I did not like the looks of the Notus, and they, as well as the Doboduras, have a most repellent type of features, and look capable of any kind of cruelty and treachery. They are very different from the gentle-looking Kaili-kailis. The sea was very rough, and it was exciting work launching the canoes. One was thrown clean out of the water by a breaker. The majority of the carriers and half the police went round by the beach, but we in the two whaleboats had some exciting moments in the rough sea, though with the sails up we made good progress. We passed two of the canoes partially wrecked, and apparently in great difficulties. We eventually landed long after dark in Eoro Bay, some distance the other side of the large Notu village, near which we had previously camped. We landed opposite a good-sized village belonging to the Notu tribe, from which all the inhabitants fled on our approach. We wandered about the village with flaming torches, looking out for huts to pass the night in, as it was too late to pitch camp. But unhappily the huts were full of lice, and it was impossible to get any sleep. I saw here for the first time one of the curious native tree houses. It was high up in a tall pandanus tree, and had a very odd appearance. We spent the whole of the next day in this village, while our carriers brought in and mended their canoes. They, too, had a very rough time of it, but no lives were lost. During the day I witnessed a very interesting ceremony, which I take the liberty of describing in Monckton's own words, given in his report to the Government. He says: "October 7th. Found that some of the mountain people had been out to Notu and wished to make peace with them. The Notu people had also ascertained that the Dobodura had retreated into the large sago swamp, and were quite certain that they had no danger to fear from them for some time to come. They also said that after the police had departed they would very likely be able to re-establish their ancient friendly relations with the Dobodura. A peace-offering was brought from the mountain people, which the Notu people asked me to receive for them. The ceremony was strange to me, and had several peculiar features. Two minor chiefs came to where I was sitting and sat down. About twenty men then approached and drove their spears into the ground in a circle with the butts all leaning inwards. Many of the spears had a small piece broken off at the butt end. From these spears were then hung clubs, spears and shields, and native masks and fighting ornaments. An old chief then said they had given me their arms. Next they placed cloth, fishing nets and spears and other native ornaments inside the circle, and the same old chief said they had given me their property. After this ten pigs, five male and five female, were brought and placed inside the ring with a quantity of sago and a little other food. Then followed cooking vessels full of cooked food. The old chief then said, 'We have given you all we have as a sign we are now the people of the Government.' I gave them a good return present, and told them that they were at liberty to take any articles they wanted or their pigs back again, but this they absolutely refused to do, saying that it would destroy the effect of what they had done. The female prisoners were now sent back to Dobodura with a message to the Dobodura, that I should return in a few months and make peace with them, should they in the meantime refrain from murdering the coastal people, but should they persist in their raiding I should return and handle them still more severely." In return we gave them presents of axes, knives, beads, tobacco, etc., which were laid down on the top of each pig. Monckton very kindly presented Acland and myself with all the clubs, native masks, "tapa" cloth and ornaments, and the pigs and other food came in very useful for our police and carriers, as our rice supply was getting low. This was a very picturesque village, shaded by thousands of coconut and betel nut palms and large spreading trees, among which was a very fine tree, with very beautiful green and yellow variegated leaves (_Erythrina_ sp.). There was also a great variety of _dracænas,_ striped and spotted with green, crimson, white, pink and yellow. In most of these villages there were many curious kinds of trophies--crossed sticks, standing in the middle of the village, with a centre pole carved and painted in various patterns, and with a fringe of fibre placed near the top. Hanging on these sticks were the skulls and jawbones of men, pigs and crocodiles. I went out in the afternoon with gun and rifle, and saw several wallabies, but could not get a shot at them on account of the tall grass. In the evening the chiefs of the large Notu village who had in our absence killed and eaten the two runaway carriers, visited us in fear and trembling. Monckton told them they must give up to us the actual murderers and send them up to the residency at Cape Nelson (or Tufi) within the next three weeks. He did not ask for those that ate them. Possibly one hundred or more partook of the feast, and for this they could hardly be blamed, as, being cannibals, it is quite natural that they should eat fresh meat when they got the chance. Indeed, our own carriers could not understand why we would not allow them to eat the bodies of those we had slain. The next morning we five white men parted company, Walsh and Clark, with the Mambare and their own police, returning to the north, while Monckton, Acland and I went southward again to continue our explorations in another direction. PART V Our Discovery of Flat-Footed Lake Dwellers. CHAPTER XI Our Discovery of Flat-Footed Lake Dwellers. Rumours at Cape Nelson of a "Duckfooted" People in the Interior--Conflicting Opinions--Views of a Confirmed Sceptic--Start of the Expedition--Magnificence of the Vegetation--Friendliness of the Barugas--The "Orakaibas" (Criers of "Peace")--Tree-huts eighty feet from the ground-Loveliness of this part of the Jungle--Description of its Plants--A Dry Season--First Glimpse of Agai Ambu Huts--Remarkable Scene on the Lake--Flight of the Agai Ambu in Canoes--Success at Last--A Voluntary Surrender--The Agai Ambu Flat-footed, not Web-footed--Sir Francis Winter's subsequent Visit and fuller Description of these People--Their Physical Appearance, Houses, Canoes, Food, Speech and Customs--My Account Resumed--Making Friends with the Agai Ambu--A Country of Swamps--Second Agai Ambu Village--Extraordinary Abundance and Variety of Water-fowl--Strange Behaviour of an Agai Ambu Women--Disposal of the Dead in Mid-lake Food of the Agai Ambu--Their Method of Catching Ducks by Diving for them--An Odd Experience--Mosquitos and Fever--Last View of Agai Ambu--An Amusing _Finale._ Many were the wild and fantastic rumours we had heard at the Residency at Cape Nelson, on the north-east coast of British New Guinea, concerning a curious tribe of natives whose feet were reported to be webbed like those of a duck, and who lived in a swamp a short way in the interior, some distance to the north of us. I myself had at first been inclined to sneer at these reports, but Monckton, the Resident Magistrate, with his superior knowledge of the Papuans, as the natives of New Guinea are called, was sure that there was some truth in the reports, as the Papuan who has not come much in contact with the white man is singularly truthful though guilty of exaggeration. I knew this, but I had in mind the case of the Doriri tribe, who lived in the interior a little to the south of us. These Doriri (who had had the kindly forethought to send us word that they were coming down to pay us a visit to eat us, for the Papuan, though a savage, is often most suave and courteous and by no means lacking in humour), were reported to us as having many tails, but needless to say when we made some prisoners, we were scarcely disappointed to find that the said tails protruded from the back of the head (in much the same fashion as the Chinaman's pigtail); in this case each man had many tails, which were fashioned by rolling layers of bark from a certain tree--closely allied, I believe to the "paper tree" of Australia--round long strands of hair. We three white men had many a long talk as to whether these swamp-dwellers were worth going in search of, but I soon came round to Monckton's way of thinking. Acland, alone, however, maintained to the last that the whole thing was a myth, and jokingly said to Monckton: "When you find these duck-footed people, you had better see that Walker does not take them for birds, and shoot and skin a couple of specimens of each sex and add them to his collection." (For my chief hobby in this and many other countries all over the world consisted in adding to my fine collections of birds and butterflies in the old country.) As we three, with our twenty-five native police and four servant boys, rowed up the Barigi River in our large government whaleboat, on our way to search for these "duck-footed" people, I could not help being struck with the very great beauty of the scene. Giant trees laden with their burden of orchids, parasites and dangling lianas, surrounded us on both sides, their wide-spreading branches forming a leafy arcade far over our heads, while palms in infinite variety, intermixed with all sorts of tropical forms of vegetation, and rare ferns, grew thickly on the banks. Some distance behind us came our large fleet of canoes, bearing our bags of rice and over one hundred carriers, and as they paddled down the dark green oily waters of this natural arcade, with much shouting and the splashing of many paddles, it made a scene which is with me yet and is never to be forgotten. As we proceeded, the river got more narrow, and fallen trees from time to time obstructed our way. We at length landed at a spot where we were met by a large number of the Baruga tribe, who brought us several live pigs tied to poles, and great quantities of sago, plantains and yams. They had expected us, as we had camped in their country the previous night. They had been "licked" into friendliness by Monckton, who less than a year ago (as elsewhere mentioned) had sunk their canoes, and together with the aid of the crocodiles, which swarm in this river, had annihilated a large force of them. And now to show their friendliness they were prepared to do us a good turn, by helping us to find these duck-footed people, with whom (they told us) they were well acquainted. Oyogoba, the chief of the Baruga tribe, came to meet us. He assured us of the friendliness of his people, and himself offered to accompany us. His arm had been broken in the encounter with Monckton and his police, and Monckton had immediately afterwards set it himself. It now seemed quite sound. We soon resumed our journey, on foot, passing through very varied country, plains covered with tall grass and bounded by forest, through which at times we passed. At other times we had to force our way through thick swamps in which the sago-palm abounded, from the trunks of which the natives extract sago in great quantities. About mid-day we arrived at a fair-sized village belonging to the Baruga tribe. It was surrounded by a tall stockade of poles, and as we entered it, the women sitting in their huts greeted us with their incessant cries of "orakaiba, orakaiba" (peace). On this account the natives of this part of New Guinea are generally termed "Orakaibas" by other tribes. The houses here seemed larger and better built than most Papuan houses that I had hitherto seen, and there were many curious tree-houses high up among the branches of some very large, trees in the village, some being fully eighty feet from the ground. They had broad ladders reaching up to them, and looked very curious and picturesque. These ladders are made of long rattans from various climbing palms. These rattans, of which there were three double strings, are twisted in such a way as to support the pieces of wood which form the steps. In one case a ladder led from the ground in the usual way to a house built in a small tree about thirty feet from the ground, but a second ladder connected this house with another one in a much larger tree about eighty feet off the ground. I climbed the first ladder, but the second one swayed too much. These tree-houses axe built partly as look-out houses, from which the approach of the enemy is discovered, and partly as vantage points from which the natives hurl down spears at their opponents below when attacked. Resuming our journey, after a brief halt in this village, we soon came to the Barigi River again, which we crossed, camping in a small deserted village close by. Here I noticed several more tree-houses in the larger trees. This had been a very hot day, even for New Guinea, and I could not resist taking a most refreshing bathe in the river, though I must confess I was glad to get out again, having rather a dread of the crocodiles, which infest parts of this river, though they were not nearly so numerous up here as in the lower reaches of the river which we had traversed in the morning. We were up the following morning before sunrise, and were all much excited at the prospect before us of discovering this curious tribe. This day would show whether or no our journey was to prove fruitless. Soon after leaving the village we entered a dense forest, the growth of which was wonderfully beautiful. Tall _pandanus_ trees, some of them supported by a hundred and more long stilted roots, which rose many feet above our heads, reared their crowns of ribbon-like leaves above even some of the giants of the forest. Palms of all shapes and sizes, dwarfed, tall, slender and thick, surrounded us on every side, and at least three different species of climbing palms scrambled over the tallest trees. The tree trunks were hidden by climbing ferns and by a white variegated fleshy-leafed _pothos._ Orchids, though not numerous, were by no means scarce on the branches of some of the larger trees, and were intermixed with many curious and beautiful ferns. There were many large-leafed tropical plants somewhat resembling the _heliconias_ and _marantas_ of tropical America. Flowers were not very plentiful, but here and there the forest would be literally ablaze with what is said to be the most showy flowering creeper in the world, huge bunches of large flowers of so vivid a scarlet that Monckton and I agreed no painting could do them justice. It is sometimes known as the _Dalbertia,_ but its botanical name is _Mucuna bennetti._ It has been found impossible to introduce it into cultivation. Among other flowers were some very large sweet-scented _Crinum_ lilies and some very pretty pink flowering _begonias,_ with their leaves beautifully mottled with silver. Here and there we would notice a variegated _croton_ or pink-leafed _dracæna,_ but these were uncommon. As we proceeded, I noticed that in spite of the very dry weather we had been having, the ground each moment became more moist, which indicated that we were approaching the swamps we had heard about. It was a rough track over fallen trees and dry streams, but before long we passed along the banks of a creek full of stagnant water. We at length left the forest and found ourselves in open country, covered with reeds and rank grass, through which we slowly wended our way. Suddenly, however, we halted, and looking through the tall grass, saw some of the houses of the Agai Ambu tribe close at hand. Down we all crouched, hiding ourselves among the grass, while two of our Baruga guides, who speak the language of the Agai Ambu, went forward to try and parley with them and induce them to be friendly with us. We soon heard them yelling out to the Agai Ambu, who yelled back in reply. This went on for some minutes, when the Baruga men called out to us to come on. Jumping up, we rushed forward through the grass and witnessed a remarkable scene. In front of us was a lake thickly covered with water-lilies, most of them long-stemmed and of a very beautiful blue, with a yellow centre, and with large leaves, the edges of which were covered with a kind of thorn; there were also some white ones with yellow centre. On the other side of the lake were several curious houses built on long poles in the water, the houses themselves being a good height above the water. The lake presented a scene of great confusion. The inhabitants were fleeing away from us in their curious canoes, which, unlike most Papuan canoes, had no outrigger whatever. Their paddles also were peculiar, the blades being very broad. Close to us were our two Baruga guides in a canoe with one of the Agai Ambu tribe, who directly he saw us plunged into the lake and disappeared under the tangled masses of water lilies. He remained under some time, but on his coming to the surface again, one of the Baruga men plunged in after him, and we witnessed an exciting wrestling match in the water. The Baruga man was by far the more powerful of the two, but he was no match for the almost amphibious Agai Ambu, who slipped away from his grasp like an eel, and swam away, with the Baruga man in close pursuit. All this time a canoe full of the Agai Ambu was rapidly approaching to the rescue, waving their paddles over their heads, and the Baruga man, seeing this, climbed back into his canoe and paddled back to us. Meanwhile the police had made a rush for a canoe which was close at hand; but it at once upset, having no outrigger and being exceedingly light and thin; it was, in fact, a species of canoe quite new to our police. In any case they would not have had the slightest chance of overtaking the fleet Agai Ambu in their own canoes. It looked very much as if after all we were not to have the chance of verifying the strange reports about the formation of these people. As a last resource we sent over our two Baruga guides in a canoe to speak with those of the tribe who had not fled. As the guides approached they shouted out that we were friends, and that as we were friends of the Baruga tribe, we must be friends of the Agai Ambu tribe as well. We held up various tempting trade goods, including a calico known as Turkey-red, bottles of beads, etc. This and a long conversation with the Baruga men seemed to carry some weight with them, for the Baruga soon returned with one of their number, who turned round in the canoe with his arms outstretched to his friends and cried or rather chanted, in a sobbing voice, what sounded like a very weird song, which seemed quite in keeping with the mournful surroundings and lonely life of these people. This weird song, heard under such circumstances, quite thrilled me, and wild and savage though the singer was, the song appealed to me more than any other song has ever done. It looked as if he might be a ne'er-do-weel or an idiot whom his friends could afford to experiment with before taking the risk of coming over themselves, but his song was no doubt a farewell to his friends, whom he possibly never expected to see again. He certainly looked horribly frightened as he stepped out of the canoe. We at once saw that there was some truth in the reports about the physical formation of these people, although there had been exaggeration in the descriptions of their feet as "webbed." There was, between the toes, an epidermal growth more distinct than in the case of other peoples, though not so conspicuous as to permit of the epithet "half-webbed," much less "webbed," being applied to them. The most noticeable difference was that their legs below the knee were distinctly shorter than those of the ordinary Papuan, and that their feet seemed much broader and shorter and very flat, so that altogether they presented a most extraordinary appearance. The Agai Ambu hardly ever walk on dry land, and their feet bleed if they attempt to do so. They appeared to be slightly bowlegged and walk with a mincing gait, lifting their feet straight up, as if they were pulling them out of the mud. Sir Francis Winter, the acting Governor of British New Guinea, was so interested in our discovery, that he himself made another expedition with Monckton to see these people, while I was still in New Guinea. On his return I stayed with him for some time at Government House, Port Moresby, and he gave me a copy of his report on the Agai Ambu, which explains the curious physical formation of these people better than I could do. He says: "On the other side of this mere, and close to a bed of reeds and flags, was a little village of the small Ahgai-ambo tribe, and about three-quarters of a mile off was a second village. After much shouting our Baruga followers induced two men and a woman to come across to us from the nearest village. Each came in a small canoe, which, standing up, they propelled with a long pole. One man and the woman ventured on shore to where we were standing. "The Ahgai-ambo have for a period that extends beyond native traditions lived in this swamp. At one time they were fairly numerous, but a few years ago some epidemic reduced them to about forty. They never leave their morass, and the Baruga assured us that they are not able to walk properly on hard ground, and that their feet soon bleed if they try to do so. The man that came on shore was for a native middle-aged. He would have been a fair-sized native, had his body from the hips downward been proportionate to the upper part of his frame. He had a good chest and, for a native, a thick neck; and his arms matched his trunk. His buttocks and thighs were disproportionately small, and his legs still more so. His feet were short and broad, and very thin and flat, with, for a native, weak-looking toes. This last feature was still more noticeable in the woman, whose toes were long and slight and stood out rigidly from the foot as though they possessed no joints. The feet of both the man and the woman seemed to rest on the ground something as wooden feet would do. The skin above the knees of the man was in loose folds, and the sinews and muscles around the knee were not well developed. The muscles of the shin were much better developed than those of the calf. In the ordinary native the skin on the loins is smooth and tight, and the anatomy of the body is clearly discernible; but the Ahgai-ambo man had several folds of thick skin or muscle across the loins, which concealed the outline of his frame. On placing one of our natives, of the same height, alongside the marsh man, we noticed that our native was about three inches higher at the hips. "I had a good view of our visitor, while he was standing sideways towards me, and in figure and carriage he looked to me more ape-like than any human being that I have seen. The woman, who was of middle age, was much more slightly formed than the man, but her legs were short and slender in proportion to her figure, which from the waist to the knees was clothed in a wrapper of native cloth. "The houses of the near village were built on piles, at a height of about twelve feet from the surface of the water, but one house at the far village must have been three or four feet more elevated. Their canoes, which are small, long, and narrow, and have no outrigger, axe hollowed out to a mere shell to give them buoyancy. Although the open water was several feet deep, it was so full of aquatic plants that a craft of any width, or drawing more than a few inches, would make but slow progress through it. Needless to say that these craft, which retain the round form of the log, are exceedingly unstable, but their owners stand up in them and, pole them along without any difficulty. "These people are very expert swimmers, and can glide through beds of reeds or rushes, or over masses of floating vegetable matter, with ease. They live on wild fowl, fish, sago and marsh plants, and on vegetables procured from the Baruga in exchange for fish and sago. They keep a few pigs on platforms built underneath or alongside their houses. Their dead they place on small platforms among the reeds, and cover the corpse over with a roof of rude matting. Their dialect is almost the same as that of the Baruga. Probably their ancestors at one time lived close to the swamp, and in order to escape from their enemies were driven to seek a permanent refuge in it." Thus it will be seen that Sir Francis was much impressed with these people, and he heartily congratulated me upon our discovery. To resume my personal account. We soon gave the man confidence by presenting him with an axe, some calico and beads, and a small looking-glass, which was held in front of him. He gazed in stupefied wonderment at his own features so plainly depicted before him. He was taken back to the other side, and soon returned with two more of his tribe, who brought us a live pig, which they hauled out from a raised flooring beneath one of their houses. The country all round us seemed to be one large swamp, and we stood upon a springy foundation of reeds and mud; except for these, we should undoubtedly have soon sunk out of sight in the mud. As it was, we stood in a foot of water most of the time, and in places we had to wade through mud over our knees. The lake swarmed with many kinds of curious water-birds, the most common being a red-headed kind of plover; there was also a great variety of duck and teal. The swamps were full of large spiders, which crawled all over us; we had to keep continually brushing them off. Farther down the lake we saw another small village, and we were told that these two villages comprised the whole of this curious tribe. Whether they axe the remnants of a once powerful tribe it is impossible to say, but their position is well-nigh impregnable in case they are ever attacked, as their houses are surrounded by swamps and water on all sides, and no outsider could very well get through the swamps to their villages. The only possible way to get there would be to cross the water in their shell-like canoes, a feat which no man of any other tribe would ever be able to manage. Monckton thought that these swamps and lake were formed by an overflow of the Musa River. This had been a phenomenally dry season for New Guinea, so these swamps in an ordinary wet season must be under water to the depth of many feet. We camped close by on the borders of the forest amid a jungle of rank luxuriant vegetation, over which hovered large and brilliant butterflies, among them a very large metallic green and black species (_Ornithoptera priamus_) and a large one of a bright blue (_Papilio ulyses_). The same afternoon we three went out shooting on the lake. Two of the Agai Ambu canoes were lashed together and a raft of split bamboo put across them, and two Agai Ambu men punted and paddled us about. Before starting we had first educated them up to the report of our guns, and after a few shots they soon got over their fright. The lake positively swarmed with water-fowl, including several varieties of duck, also shag, divers, pigmy geese, small teal, grebe, red-headed plover, spur-wing plover, curlew, sandpipers, snipe, swamp hen, water-rail, and many other birds. The red-headed plover were especially numerous, and ran about on the surface of the lake, which was covered with the water-lily leaves and a thick sort of mossy weed. All the birds seemed remarkably tame, and we got a good assorted bag, chiefly duck--enough to supply most of our large force with. I stopped most of the time on the raised platform of one of the houses and shot the duck, which Acland and Monckton put up, as they flew over my head. I had a companion in old Giwi, the chief of the Kaili-kailis, many of whom were among our carriers. He seemed to be on very friendly terms with one of the Agai Ambu on whose hut I was. Presently a woman came over in a canoe from one of the houses in the far village, and climbed up on to the platform where we were. Directly she saw old Giwi, she caught hold of him and hugged and kissed him all over and rubbed her face against his body, covering him with the black pigment with which she had smeared her face. She was sobbing all the time and chanting a very mournful but not unmusical kind of song. This exhibition lasted over half an hour, and poor old Giwi looked quite bewildered, and gazed up at me in a most piteous way, as much as to say: "Awful nuisance, this woman--but what am I to do?" He understood the meaning of this performance as little as I did. Possibly the woman was frightened of us, and seeing a stranger of her own colour in old Giwi, appealed to him for protection. The Baruga, however, had previously told us that the Agai Ambu had recently captured one of their women, and I have since thought that this might possibly have been the woman, and am sorry I did not make inquiries at the time. At all events, old Giwi was too courteous to shake her off, though to me it was a most amusing sight, and it was all I could do to refrain from laughing aloud. We saw the dead body of a man half-wrapped in mats tied to poles in the middle of the lake. They always dispose of their dead thus, and I suppose leave them there till they rot or dry up. The chief food of these people seemed to be the bulbs of the water-lilies, fish and shellfish. They catch plenty of water-fowl by diving under them and pulling them under the water by the legs before they have time to make any noise. By this method they do not frighten the rest away, and this accounts for the birds' extreme tameness. It seemed odd that we should be paddled about the lake, to shoot wild fowl, by these people, who until to-day had never seen a white man before and had fled from us in the morning. However, most of them had fled and would not return until we had left their country. There is little doubt that this part of the country is most unhealthy. Many of our police and carriers were two days later down with fever, and a few weeks later I had a bad attack of fever, with which I was laid up in Samarai for some time, and which I feel sure I got into my system in this swamp. The mosquitoes were certainly very plentiful and vicious. We spent the following day here, duck-shooting on the lake, and I did a little natural-history collecting in the adjacent forest. We had intended to try and induce two of the Agai Ambu to accompany us back to Cape Nelson, but most unfortunately they understood that we were going to take them forcibly away. They became alarmed and all disappeared, and we were not able to get into communication with them again. When Sir Francis Winter visited them about a month later they were evidently quite friendly again, but on the second day of his visit his native followers demanded a pig of the Agai Ambu in his, Sir Francis's, name. At this they became alarmed and retreated to the further village, and he was unable to see any more of them. Since then I believe nothing more has been seen of these flat-footed people. We returned to our old camping ground in the Baruga village on the banks of the Barigi River, and the friendly Baruga people brought us a big supply of pigs, sago and other native food. The next day we continued our journey to the coast, and camped at the mouth of the Barigi River. We had intended making an expedition into the Hydrographer range of mountains, which we could see from here, and which were unexplored, but Monckton and Acland were far from well, and most of our carriers and police were down with fever, and so, greatly to my disappointment, this had to be abandoned. We resumed our homeward journey in the whaleboat early the following morning. We started with a fair breeze, but this changed after a time to a head wind, against which it was quite impossible to make any headway, so we landed at a place where there was a small inlet leading into a lagoon. We stayed here till six p.m., when the wind dropped sufficiently to enable us to start off again, and, passing the mouth of the Musa River, we landed about one a.m. in Porlock Bay, where we camped for the night. We spent the following day shooting, which entailed a lot of wading amongst the shallow streams, lagoons and small lakes. I had a bit of a fright here, as I suddenly stepped into some quicksands and felt myself sinking fast, but, thanks to Arigita and the branch of a tree, I was able to pull myself out after a great deal of trouble and anxiety, though if I had not had Arigita with me I should most certainly have gone under. We got a splendid bag between us of various birds, chiefly duck and pigeon. One of the police shot a large cassowary, and also a large wild pig and a wallaby, so there was plenty of food for all. We sailed again that night at eleven p.m., and got six of the Okeina canoes to tow us along. This they did not seem to relish, and before they got into line there was a great deal of angry talking and shouting, and Monckton had to call them to order by firing a rifle in the air. It was amusing to see the way the long line of canoes pulled us round and round in the form of the letter "S," and they would often bump against each other, and plenty of angry words were exchanged. It was an amusing _finale_ to the expedition. They left us for their homes when we got near the Okeina country. We landed in the early morning on the beach, where we had breakfast, and then rowed on, followed by the Kaili-kaili and Arifamu canoes, and eventually landed again at the station at Tufi, Cape Nelson, about two p.m. In conclusion I should mention that Mr. Oelrechs, Monckton's assistant, had heard rumours that we had all been massacred, and he told me that he had been seriously thinking of gathering together a large army of friendly natives to go down and avenge us, though I think he would have found it no easy matter, but, as can be seen, we saved him the trouble, and so our expedition ended. PART VI Wanderings and Wonders in Borneo. CHAPTER XII On the War-Path in Borneo. The "Orang-utan" and the "Man of the Jungle"--Voyage to Sarawak--The Borneo Company, Limited--Kuching, a Picturesque Capital--Independence of Sarawak--I meet the Rajah and the Chief Officials--Etiquette of the Sarawak Court--The "Club"--The "Rangers" of Sarawak and their Trophies--Execution by means of the Long Kris--Degeneracy of the Land Dayaks--Ascent of the Rejang River--Mud Banks and Crocodiles--Dr. Hose at his Sarawak Home--The Fort at Sibu--Enormous length of Dayak Canoes--A Brush with Head-Hunters--Dayak Vengeance on Chinamen--First Impressions of the Sea Dayak, "picturesque and interesting"--A Head-Hunting raid, Dayaks attack the Punans--I accompany the Punitive Expedition--Voyage Upstream--A Clever "Bird Scare"--Houses on the top of Tree-stumps--The Kelamantans--Kanawit Village--The Fort at Kapit--Capture of a notorious Head-Hunting Chief--I inspect the "Heads" of the Victims--Cause of Head-Hunting--Savage Revenge of a Dayak Lover and its Sequel--Hose's stem Ultimatum--Accepted by the Head-Hunters--I return to Sibu--A Fatal Misconception. I had spent about seven months in the forests of British North Borneo, going many days' journey into the heart of the country, had made fine natural-history collections and had come across a great deal of game, including elephant, rhinoceros, bear, and "tembadu" or wild cattle, huge wild pig and deer of three species being especially plentiful. But above all I had come across a great many "orang-utan" (Malay for "jungle-man") and had been able to study their habits. One of these great apes has the strength of eight men and possesses an extraordinary amount of vitality. One that I shot lived for nearly three hours with five soft-nosed Mauser bullets in its body. But I had not yet seen the _real_ jungle-man in his native haunts--the head-hunting Dayak, as the Dayaks are rarely to be found in North Borneo, whereas the people on the Kinabatangan River (where I spent most of my time) were a sort of Malay termed "Orang Sungei" (River People). So, as I was anxious to see the real head-hunting Dayak, I determined to go to Sarawak, which is in quite a different part of Borneo. To do this, I had to return to Singapore, and thence, after a two days' voyage, I arrived at Kuching, the capital of Sarawak. Except for a Chinese towkay, I was the only saloon passenger, as strangers rarely visit this country. Kuching is about twenty-five miles up the Sarawak River, and contains about thirty thousand inhabitants, chiefly Malays and Chinese, with about fifty Europeans, who are for the most part government officials or belong to the Borneo Company, Limited. This company is very wealthy and owns the only steamship line, plying between Singapore and Kuching. It has several gold mines and a great quantity of land planted to pepper, gambier, gutta percha and rubber. The Rajah will not allow any other company or private individual to buy lands or open up an estate, neither will he allow any traders in the country. It would be difficult to imagine a more picturesque town than Kuching. It chiefly consists of substantial Chinese dwellings of brick and plaster, with beautiful tile-work of quaint figures, while temples glittering with gold peep out of thick, luxuriant, tropical growth. Two miles out of the city you can lose yourself in a dense tropical forest of the greatest beauty, and in the background is a chain of mountains, some of them of extraordinary shape. The reigning monarch or Rajah is an Englishman, Sir Charles Brooke, a nephew of Sir James Brooke, the first Rajah, who was an officer in the British Navy and who, after conquering Malay pirates, was made Rajah of the country by the grateful Dayaks. Though Sarawak is supposed to be under British protection, and though all his officials are Britishers, Rajah Brooke considers his country independent and will not allow the Union Jack to be flown in his dominions. He possesses his own flag, a mixture of red, black and yellow, and his own national anthem; moreover his officials refer to him as the King, and to his son, the heir to the throne, as the "young King" (or "Rajah Muda"). Two days after my arrival, the Rajah left on his steam yacht for England, but the day before he left, he held a great reception at his "palace" (or "astana," as it is called in Malay). It was attended by all his officials, by high Malay chiefs and the chief Chinese merchants. The reins of government were formally handed over to his son, the Rajah Muda, after which champagne was passed round. The chief resident, Sir Percy Cunninghame, then introduced me to the Rajah. He is a fine-looking old man with a white moustache and white hair, and is greatly beloved by every one. He conversed with me for some time, and asked me many questions about the Chartered Company in British North Borneo. It was rather embarrassing for me, with every one silently and respectfully standing around listening to every word. He wished me success in my travels in the interior, and told his officials to do all in their power to help me. When you talk about the Rajah you say "His Highness," but when you address him, you simply say "Rajah" after every few words--"Yes, Rajah," or "No, Rajah." The native chiefs, I noticed, kissed the hands of both the Rajah and the Rajah Muda. There is no hotel in Kuching, so I put up at the rather dilapidated government Rest-House, part of which I had to myself, the other half being occupied by two government officers. The club in Kuching seems a most popular institution with all the officials, and "gin pahits" (or "bitters") the popular drink of this part of the world; billiards and pool help to pass many a pleasant evening, the Rajah Muda often joining us at a game of black pool, like any ordinary mortal. The Rajah's troops, the Rangers, are a fine body of men; they are chiefly recruited from the Malays and Dayaks, and have an English sergeant to drill them. I was told that when they go fighting the wild head-hunters, they are allowed to bring in as trophies the heads of those they kill, in the same way that the Dayaks themselves do. The method of execution here is the same as in other Malay countries, the criminal being taken down to the banks of the river, where a long "kris" is thrust down through the shoulder into the heart, and is then twisted about till the man is dead. After a visit to Bau, further up the Sarawak River, where the Borneo Company, whose guest I was, have a gold mine (the clay being treated by the "cyanide" process), I collected specimens for some time in the beautiful forests at the foot of the limestone mountains of Poak. Here I saw something of the Land Dayaks, but they are a poor degenerate breed, and not to be compared to the Sea Dayaks, who are born fighters, and whose predatory head-hunting instincts give a great deal of trouble to the government. These latter were the Dayaks I was anxious to meet, and I soon made arrangements to visit their country, which is a good way from Kuching, the real Sea Dayak rarely visiting the capital. So one morning early I found myself with my two servants, a Chinese cook and a civilized Dayak named Dubi (Mr. R. Shelford also going), on board a government paddle-wheel steamer which was bound for Sibu, on the Rejang River. Twenty-five miles' descent of the Sarawak River brought us to the sea. We did not skirt the coast, but cut across a large open expanse of sea for about ninety miles. We then came to the delta of the Rejang River, and went up one of its many mouths, which was of great width, though the scenery all the way was monotonous, and consisted of nothing but mangroves, _pandanus,_ the feathery _nipa_ palm and the tall, slender "nibong" palm, with here and there a crocodile lying, out on the mud banks--a dismal scene. At nightfall we anchored a short way up the river, as the government will not allow their boats to travel up the river by night, it being unsafe. We were off again at daylight the next morning, the scenery improving as the interminable mangroves gave place to the forest. Sixty miles up the river found us at Sibu, where I put up with Dr. Hose, the Resident, the celebrated Bornean explorer and naturalist. The only other Europeans here were two junior officials, Messrs. Johnson and Bolt. And yet there is a club at Sibu, a club for three, and here these three officials meet every evening and play pool. There is a fort in Sibu, as indeed there is at most of the river places in Sarawak. It is generally a square-shaped wooden building, perforated all round with small holes for rifles, while just below the roof is a slanting grill-work through which it is easy to shoot, though, as it is on the slant, it is hard for spears to enter from the outside. There are one or two cannons in most of these forts. The fort at Sibu was close to Dr. Hose's house and was attacked by Dayaks only a few years ago. Johnson, one of Dr. Hose's assistants, showed me a very long Dayak canoe capable of seating over one hundred men. It was made out of one tree, but large as it was, it did not equal some of the Kayan canoes on this river, one of which was one hundred and forty-five feet in length. This Dayak canoe was literally riddled with bullets, and Johnson told me that a few weeks' ago he was fighting some Dayaks on the Kanawit, a branch river near here, when he was attacked by some Dayaks in this very canoe. As they came up throwing spears he told his men to fire, with the result that eighteen Dayaks were killed. The river at Sibu was of great width, over a mile across, in fact, and close to the bank is a Malay village, and a bazaar where the wily Chinaman does a thriving trade in the wild produce of the country, and makes huge profits out of the Dayaks and other natives on this river. But the Dayaks often have their revenge and attack the Chinamen with great slaughter, the result being that they take home with them plenty of yellow-skinned heads with nice long pig-tails to hang them up by. During my stay on this river there were two or three cases of Chinamen being slaughtered by the Dayaks, and if it were not for the forts on these rivers, every Chinaman would be wiped out of existence. My first real acquaintance with the Sea Dayak was in the long bazaar at Sibu, and I was by no means disappointed in my first impressions, as I found him a most picturesque and interesting individual. The men usually have long black hair hanging down their backs, often with a long fringe on their foreheads. Their skin is brown, they have snub noses but resolute eyes, and they are of fine proportions, though they rarely exceed five feet five inches in height. Beyond the "jawat," a long piece of cloth which hangs down between their legs, they wear nothing, if I except their many and varied ornaments. They wear a great variety of earrings. These are often composed of heavy bits of brass, which draw the lobes of the ears down below the shoulder. When they go on the war-path they generally wear war-coats made from the skins of various wild animals, and these are often padded as a protection against the small poisonous darts of the "sumpitan" or blow-pipe which, together with the "parang" (a kind of sword) and long spears with broad steel points constitute their chief weapons. They also have large shields of light wood; often fantastically painted in curious patterns, or ornamented with human hair. I had been at Sibu only three or four days, when word was brought down to Dr. Hose that the Ulu Ai Dayaks, near Fort Kapit, about one hundred miles up the river, had attacked and killed a party of Punans for the sake of their heads. These Punans are a nomadic tribe who wander about through the great forests with no settled dwelling-places, but build themselves rough huts and hunt the wild game of the forest and feed on the many wild fruits that are found in these forests. Hose at once decided to go up to Fort Kapit and punish these Dayaks, and gave me leave to accompany him and Shelford. So one morning at six o'clock we boarded a large steam launch with a party of the Rangers, mentioned above, as the Rajah's troops. We took, from near Sibu, several friendly Dayaks, who were armed to the teeth with spears, "parangs," "sumpitans," shields and war ornaments, all highly elated at the prospect of the fighting in store for them. In a short account like this, it is of course impossible to describe the many interesting things that I saw on the journey up the river. We passed many of the long, curious Dayak houses and plenty of canoes full of these picturesque people, and at some of the villages little Dayak children hurriedly pushed out small canoes from the shore so as to get rocked by the waves made by our launch. This they seemed to enjoy, to judge from the delighted yells they gave forth. I several times saw a most ingenious invention for frightening away the birds and monkeys from the large fruit trees which surrounded every Dayak village. At one end of a large rattan cord was a sort of wooden rattle, fixed on the top of one of the largest fruit trees. The other end of the rattan was fastened to a slender bamboo stick which was stuck into the river, and the action of the stream caused the bamboo to sway to and fro, thus jerking the rattan which in turn set the rattle going. We passed several small houses built on the tops of large tree-stumps. These, Dr. Hose informed me, were built by Kanawits, of a race of people known as Kelamantans. These Kelamantans are supposed to be the oldest residents of Borneo, being here long before the Dayaks and Kayans, but they axe fast dying out, as are the Punans, I believe chiefly owing to the raids of the warlike Dayaks. They were once ferocious head-hunters, but now they are a very inoffensive people. About mid-day we stopped at the village of Kanawit, at the mouth of the river of that name. This village, like Sibu, is composed entirely of Chinese and Malays. They are all traders and do a thriving business with the Dayaks and other natives. Here also was a fort with its cannon, with a Dayak or Malay sergeant and a dozen men in charge. As we proceeded up river, the scenery became rather monotonous. There was little tall forest, the country being either cleared for planting "padi" (rice) or in secondary forest growth or jungle, a sure sign of a thick population. We saw many Dayaks burning the felled jungle for planting their "padi," and the air was full of ashes and smoke, which obscured the rays of the sun and cast a reddish glare on the surrounding country. Toward evening we reached the village of Song and stayed here all night, fastening our launch to the bank. In spite of the fort here, we learned that the Chinamen were in great fear of an attack by the Dayaks, which they daily expected. Leaving Song at half-past five the next morning, we arrived at Kapit about ten a.m. and put up at the fort, which was a large one. A long, narrow platform from the top of the fort led to a larger platform on which, overlooking the river, there was a large cannon which could be turned round so as to cover all the approaches from the river in case there was an attack on the fort. We learned that the day before we arrived at Kapit, Mingo, the Portuguese in charge of the fort, had captured the worst ringleader of the head-hunters in the bazaar at Kapit, and small parties of loyal Dayaks were at once sent off to the homes of the other head-hunters with strict injunctions to bring back the guilty ones, and, failing persuasion and threats, to attack them. [11] In most cases they were successful, and I saw many of the prisoners brought in, together with some of the heads of their victims. The next morning Hose suddenly called out to me that if I wished to inspect the heads I would find them hanging up under the cannon platform by the river, and he sent a Dayak to undo the wrappings of native cloth and mats in which they were done up. They were a sickening sight, and all the horrors of head-hunting were brought before me with vivid and startling reality far more than could have been done by any writer, and I pictured those same heads full of life only a few days before, and then suddenly a rush from the outside amid the unprepared Punans in their rude huts in the depths of the forest, a woman's scream of terror, followed by the sickening sound of hacking blows from the sharp Dayak "parangs," and the Dayak war-cry, "Hoo-hah! hoo-hah!" ringing through the night air, as every single Punan man, woman and child, who has not had time to escape, is cut down in cold blood. When all are dead, the proud Dayaks, proceed to hack off the heads of their victims and bind them round with rattan strings with which to carry them, and then, returning in triumph, are hailed with shouts of delight by their envious fellow-villagers, for this means wives, a Dayak maiden thinking as much of heads as a white girl would of jewellery. The old Dayak who undid the wrappings pretended to be horrified, but I felt sure that the old hypocrite wished that he owned them himself. Only seven of the heads had been brought in, and two of them were heads of women, and although they had been smoked, I could easily see that one of them was that of a quite young, good-looking girl, with masses of long, dark hair. She had evidently been killed by a blow from a "parang," as the flesh on the head had been separated by a large cut which had split the skull open. In one of the men's heads there were two small pieces of wood inserted in the nose. They were all ghastly sights to look at, and smelt a bit, and I was not sorry to be able to turn my back on them. As in the present case, the brass-encircled young Dayak women are generally the cause of these head-hunts, as they often refuse to marry a man unless he has one or more heads, and in many cases a man is absolutely driven to get a head if he wishes to marry. The heads are handed down from father to son, and the rank of a Dayak is generally determined by the number of heads he or his ancestors have collected. A Dayak goes on the war-path more for the sake of the heads he may get, than for the honour and glory of the fighting. Generally, though, there is precious little fighting, as the Dayak attacks only when his victims are unprepared. While I was in Borneo I heard the following story of Dayak barbarity, which is a good example of the way the women incite their men to go on these head-hunting expeditions. In a certain district where some missionaries were doing good work among the Dayaks, a Dayak young man named Hathnaveng had been persuaded by the missionaries to give up the barbaric custom of headhunting. One day, however, he fell in love with a Dayak maiden. The girl, although returning his passion, disdained his offer of marriage, because he no longer indulged in the ancient practice of cutting off and bringing home the heads of the enemies of the tribe. Hathnaveng, goaded by the taunts of the girl, who told him to dress in women's clothes in the future, as he no longer had the courage of a man, left the village and remained away for some time. When he returned, he entered his sweetheart's hut, carrying a sack on his shoulders. He opened it, and four human heads rolled upon the bamboo floor. At the sight of the trophies, the girl at once took him back into her favour, and flinging her arms round his neck, embraced him passionately. "You wanted heads," declared her lover. "I have brought them. Do you not recognize them?" Then to her horror she saw they were the heads of her father, her mother, her brother and of a young man who was Hathnaveng's rival for her affections. Hathnaveng was immediately seized by some of the tribesmen, and by way of punishment was placed in a small bamboo structure such as is commonly used by the Dayaks for pigs, and allowed to starve to death. [12] This is a true story, and occurred while I was still in Borneo. The day after we arrived at Kapit a great crowd of Dayaks, belonging to the tribe of those implicated in the attack on the Punans, assembled at the fort to talk with Dr. Hose on the matter, and the upshot of it all was startling in its severity. This was Hose's ultimatum: They must give up the rest of those that took part in the raid, and they would all get various terms of imprisonment. They must return the rest of the heads. They must pay enormous fines, and, lastly, those villages which had men who took part in the raid, must move down the river opposite Sibu, and thus be under Hose's eye as well as under the guns of the fort. I watched the faces of the crowd, and it was interesting to witness their various emotions. Some looked stupefied, others looked very angry, and that they could not agree among themselves was plainly evident from their angry squabbling. They were a curious crowd with their long black hair and fringes and round tattoo marks on their bodies. They finally agreed to these terms, as Hose told them that if they did not do so, he would come and make them, even if he had to kill them all. The following days I witnessed large bands of Dayaks bringing to the fort their fines, which consisted of large jars and brass gongs, which are the Dayak forms of currency. The total fine amounted to $5,200, and the jars were carefully examined, the gongs weighed and their values assessed. Some of the jars were very old, but the older they are the more they are worth. Three of the poorest looking ones were valued at $1,400 (the dollar in Borneo is about two of our shillings). Of the total, $1,200 was later paid to the Punans as compensation ("pati nyawa"). I watched some Dayaks--who had just brought in their fines--as they went away in one of their large canoes, and they crossed the river with a quick, short stroke of their paddles in splendid time, so that one heard the sound of their paddles, as they beat against the side of the canoe, come in one short tr-r-up. They seemed to be very angry, all talking at once, and I still heard the sound of their angry voices above the paddles' beat, long after they had disappeared up a narrow creek on the other side. I had intended going with my two servants further up the river and living for some time among the Dayaks, but Dr. Hose made objections to my doing so. He said it would be very unsafe for me to live among these Kapit Dayaks at the present time, as they were naturally in a very excitable state, and would have thought little of killing one of the "orang puteh" (white men), whom they no doubt considered the cause of all their trouble. They would be sure to take me for a government official. Hose instead advised me to go up a small unexplored branch river below Sibu, so as the launch was returning to Sibu I determined to return in her, leaving Hose and Shelford at Kapit. During my short stay at Kapit I added very few new specimens to my collections of birds and butterflies; in fact, it was the worst collecting-ground that I struck during more than a year's wanderings in Borneo. I, however, made a fine collection of Dayak weapons, shields and war ornaments from our friendly Dayaks, who seemed very low-spirited now that there was to be no fighting, and on this account traded some of their property to me which at other times nothing would have induced them to part with, at a very low figure. I returned to Sibu with Mingo, and we took with us the ringleader of the head-hunters. He was kept handcuffed in the hold, and he worked himself up into a pitiable state of fright. He thought he was going to be killed, and the whole of the voyage he was chanting a most mournful kind of song, a regular torrent of words going to one note. My Dayak servant Dubi informed me that he was singing about the heads he had taken, and for which he thought he was now going to die. After a day's stay in Sibu I went up the Sarekei River with my two servants, and made a long stay in a Dayak house. I will try to describe my life among the Dayaks in the next chapter. In conclusion, I must tell the tragic story of a fatal mistake, which was told me by Johnson, one of the officials at Sibu, which serves to illustrate the superstitious beliefs of the Malays. A Chinese prisoner at Sibu had died, at least Johnson and Bolt both thought so, and they sent some of the Malay soldiers to bury the body on the other side of the river. A few days later one of them casually remarked to Johnson that they had often heard it said that the spirit of a man sometimes returned to his body again for a short time after death (a Malay belief), but he (this Malay) had not believed it before, but he now knew that it was true. Johnson, much amused, asked him how that was. "Oh," said the Malay, "when the Tuan (Johnson) sent us across the river to bury the dead man the other day, his spirit came back to him and his body sat up and talked, and we were much afraid, and seized hold of the body; which gave us much trouble to put it into the hole we had digged, and when we had quickly filled in the hole so that the body could not come out again, we fled away quickly, so now we know that the saying is true." It thus transpired that they had buried a live Chinaman without being aware of the fact. CHAPTER XIII Home-Life Among Head-Hunting Dayaks. I leave the Main Stream and journey up the Sarekei--A Stream overarched by Vegetation--House 200 feet long--I make Friends with the Chief--My New Quarters--Rarity of White Men--Friendliness of my New Hosts--Embarrassing Request from a Lady, "like we your skin"--Similar Experience of Wallace--Crowds to see me Undress--Dayak's interest in Illustrated Papers--Waist-rings of Dayak Women--Teeth filled with brass--Noisiness of a Dayak House--Dayak Dogs--A well-meant Blow and its Sequel--Uproarious Amusement of the Dayaks--Dayak Fruit-Trees--The Durian as King of all Fruits--Dayak "Bridges" across the Swamp-Dances of the Head-Hunters--A Secret "Fishing" Expedition--A Spear sent by way of defiance to the Government--I "score" off the Pig-Hunters--Dayak Diseases--Dayak Women and Girls--Two "Broken Hearts"--I Raffle my Tins--"Cookie" and the Head-Hunters, their Jokes and Quarrels--My Adventure with a Crocodile. The Rejang is one of the many large rivers which abound in Borneo, and its tributaries are numerous and for the most part unexplored. The Rejang is tidal for fully one hundred and fifty miles, and at Sibu is over a mile in width. The banks of this river are inhabited by a large population of Malays, Chinese, Dayaks, Kayans, Kanawits, Punans and numerous other tribes. Thus it is a highly interesting region for an ethnologist. It was with feelings of pleasant anticipation that I started down the river in the government steam-launch from Sibu just as dawn was breaking, on my way to spend several weeks among the wild Dayaks on the unexplored Sarekei River. I took with me my two servants, Dubi, a civilized Dayak, and my Chinese cook. After a journey of four hours we arrived at a large Malay village near the mouth of the Sarekei River. Here I disembarked and sought out the chief of the village and demanded the loan of two canoes, with some men to paddle them, and in return I offered liberal payment. Accordingly, an hour after my arrival I found myself with all my belongings and servants on board the two canoes, with a crew of nine Malays. Soon after leaving the Malay village we branched off to the left up the Sarekei River. It was very monotonous at first, as the giant plumes of the _nipa_ palm hid everything from my view. My Malays worked hard at their paddles, and late in the afternoon we left the main Sarekei River and paddled up a small and extremely narrow stream. There we found ourselves in the depth of a most luxuriant vegetation. We were in a regular tunnel formed by arching ferns and orchid-laden trees, giant _pandanus,_ various palms and arborescent ferns and _caladiums._ Here grew the largest _crinum_ lilies I had ever seen. They literally towered over me, and the sweet-scented white and pink flowers grew in huge bunches on stems nearly as thick as my arm. After the bright sun on the main river, the dark, gloomy depths of this side-stream were very striking. It was so narrow that sometimes the vegetation on both sides was forced into the canoes, and the "atap" (palm-thatched) roof of my canoe came in for severe treatment as it brushed against prickly _pandanus_ and thorny rattans. The entrance to this stream was completely hidden from view, and no one but these Malays, who had been up here before, trading with the Dayaks, could have discovered it. I had told the Malay chief that I wished to visit a Dayak village where no white man had ever been and where they were head-hunters. He had smiled slyly and nodded as if he understood. Thereupon he said, "Baik (good), Tuan," and said he would help me. Just as darkness was setting in we arrived at a Dayak village, consisting of one very long house, which I afterwards found to exceed two hundred feet in length. It was situated about one hundred yards from the stream. No sooner had we sighted it than the air resounded with the loud beating of large gongs and plenty of shouting. There was a great commotion among the Dayaks. I at first felt doubtful as to the kind of reception I should get, and immediately made my way to the house with Dubi, who explained to the Dayak chief that I was no government official, but had come to see them and also to get some "burong" (birds) and "kopo-kopo" (butterflies). I forthwith presented the old chief with a bottle of gin, such as they often get from the Malay traders, and some Javanese tobacco, and his face was soon wreathed in smiles. The Dayaks soon brought all my baggage into the house and I paid off my Malays and proceeded to make myself as comfortable as I could for my stay of several weeks, the chief giving me a portion of his own quarters and spreading mats for me over the bamboo floor. On the latter I put my camp-bed and boxes. I occupied a portion of the open corridor or main hall, which ran the length of the house and where the unmarried men sleep. This long corridor was just thirty feet in width, and formed by far the greater portion of the house; small openings from this corridor led on to a kind of unsheltered platform twenty-five feet in width, which ran the length of the house and on which the Dayaks generally dry their "padi" (rice). The other side of the house was divided into several rooms, each of which belonged to a separate family. Here they store their wealth, chiefly huge jars and brass gongs. The house was raised on piles fully ten to twelve feet from the ground, the space underneath being fenced in for the accommodation of their pigs and chickens. The smells that came up through the half-open bamboo and "bilian"-wood flooring were the reverse of pleasant. The entrance at each end was by means of a very steep and slippery sort of ladder made out of one piece of wood with notches cut in it, the steps being only a few inches in width. One of these ladders had a rough bamboo hand-rail on each side, and the top part of the steps was roughly carved into the semblance of a human face. In the rafters over my head I noticed a great quantity of spears, shields, "sumpitans" or blowpipes, paddles, fish-traps, baskets and rolls of mats piled up indiscriminately, while just over my head where I slept was a rattan basket containing two human heads, though Dubi told me he thought the Dayaks had hidden most of their heads on my arrival. This description of the house I resided in for some time, applies more or less to all the Dayak houses I saw in Borneo. This house or village was called Menus, and the old chief's name was Usit. In spelling these names one has to be entirely guided by the sounds and write them after the fashion of the English method of spelling Malay. The village or house of Menus seemed to contain about one hundred inhabitants, not counting small children. Upon my arrival I was soon surrounded by a most curious throng, many of whom gazed at me with open mouths, in astonishment at the sight of an "orang puteh" (white man), as of course no white man had ever been here before and but very few of the people had ever seen one. One old woman remembered having seen a white man, and some of the older men had from time to time seen government officials on the Rejang River, but except to these few I was a complete novelty. Considering this, I was greatly astonished at their friendliness, as not only the men, but the women and children squatted around me in the most amicable fashion, and sometimes even became a decided nuisance. My first evening among them, however, I found extremely amusing, and as my Chinese cook placed the food he had cooked before me, and as I ate it with knife, fork and spoon, they watched every mouthful I took amid a loud buzz of comments and exclamations of delight. Though by no means the first time I have had to endure this sort of popularity, or rather notoriety, in various countries of the world, I do not think I have ever come across a people so full of friendly curiosity as were these Dayaks. About midnight I began to feel a bit sleepy, but the admiring multitude did not seem inclined to move, so I told Dubi to tell them that I wanted to change my clothes and go to sleep. No one moved. "Tell the ladies to go, Dubi," I said, but on his translating my message a woman in the background called out something that met with loud cries of approval. "What does she say, Dubi?" I asked. "She says, Tuan," replied Dubi, "they like see your skin, if white the same all over." This was rather embarrassing, and I told Dubi to insist upon their going; but Dubi, whose advice I generally took, replied, "I think, Tuan (master), more better you show to them your skin." I therefore submitted with as good a grace as possible, and took my shirt off, while some of them, especially the women, pinched and patted the skin on my back amid cries of approval and delight. They asked if the skin of the Tuan Muda (the Rajah) was as white, and, on being told that it was, a long and serious conversation took place among them, during which the name of the Tuan Muda kept constantly cropping up. The great naturalist, Wallace, met with much the same experience among the Dayaks, and as the natives of many other countries among whom I have lived never seemed to display the same curiosity about my white skin, I put it down to the Dayaks wishing to see what kind of a skin the great white Rajah, who rules over them, possesses. The next two or three nights the crowd that waited to see me change into my pyjamas was, if anything, still larger, a good many Dayaks from neighbouring villages coming over to see the sight. But gradually the novelty wore off, to my great joy, as I was getting a bit tired of the whole performance. I had come here to see the Dayaks, but it appeared that they were even more anxious to see me. For the next two or three weeks an odd Dayak would from time to time ask to see my skin, so that at length I had absolutely to refuse to exhibit myself any longer. I had luckily brought several illustrated magazines with me to use as papers for my butterflies, and these were a source of endless delight to the crowds around me in the evenings. They behaved like a lot of small children, and roared with laughter over the pictures. They generally looked at the pictures upside down, and even then they seemed to find something amusing about them. With Dubi as my interpreter I used to make up stories about the pictures, and, pointing to the portrait of some well-known actress, described the number of husbands she had killed, and I'm afraid I grossly libelled many a well-known politician, general, or divine in telling the Dayaks how many heads they possessed or how many wives they owned, till it was quite a natural thing for me to join in their uproarious merriment, as I pictured in my mind some venerable bishop on the war-path. As is well known, the Dayak women all wear rings of brass around their waists. They are called "gronong," and they are made of pliable rattan inside, with small brass rings fastened around the rattan. In the centre of each ring there are generally two or three small red and black rings of coloured rattan between the brass ones. Some wore only four or five, while others possessed twenty or more, and then they rather resembled a corset. Even the little girls of four or five wore two or three of them. I noticed on my first arrival that the women and some of the men seemed to have their teeth plentifully filled with gold, but I soon found out that it was brass that they had ornamented their teeth with, a small piece being inserted in some way in the centre of each tooth. Their teeth are generally black from the continual chewing of the betel-nut, and I noticed small children of four or five years of age going in for this dirty habit, and still younger children smoking cigarettes, the covering of which is made out of the dried leaf of the sago-palm. The Dayaks are almost as dirty as the Negritos in the Philippines, and yet they are both certainly the merriest people I have ever met with. The heartiest and most unaffected laughter I have ever heard proceeded from the throats of Dayaks and Negritos. It almost seems as if dirt in some cases constitutes true happiness. The Dayak women seemed to bathe more often than the men, but they never seemed to take off their brass waist-rings when bathing in the river. The women also have their wrists covered with brass bangles, which are all fastened together in one piece. The noise in the house was deafening at times, especially in the evening, when all come home from working in their "padi" fields, where the women are supposed to do most of the work, the men generally going hunting. The continual hum of conversation and loud laughter, with the noise made by the pigs and chickens under the house, the dogs and chickens in the house, and the beating of deep-toned gongs at times nearly drove me frantic, especially when I was writing. They resembled a lot of small children and would beat their gongs simply to amuse themselves. Very often a Dayak, on returning from his work or a hunt in the jungle, would walk straight up to a large gong that was hanging up and hammer on it for a few minutes in a most businesslike way, looking all the time as if it bored him. Then he would walk away in much the same way as a man would leave the telephone (as if he had just got through some business). I suppose it soothed them after their day's work, but it irritated me. The Dayak dogs are fearful and wonderful animals, both as regards shape and colour, and I could get very little sleep on account of the noise they made; yet the Dayaks seemed to sleep through it all. One night I woke up after a particularly noisy fight, and saw what appeared to me to be a dog sitting calmly by my bed with its back turned to me. Lifting my mosquito net, therefore, very quietly, I let drive with my fist at it, putting all my pent-up indignation and anger for sleepless nights into the blow. Alas! it was a very solid dog that I struck against, being nothing more nor less than the side of one of my boxes, and I barked my knuckles rather badly. The laughter of the Dayaks was loud and prolonged when Dubi translated the yarn to them next day, and they remembered it long afterwards. Until I heard the roar of laughter that went up, the story had not struck me as being so very amusing! All around the house for some distance was a forest of tall fruit-trees. They had of course all been planted in times past by the Dayaks' ancestors, and every tree had its owner, but they had become mixed up with many beautiful wild tropic growths which had sprung up between the trees. Some of these fruit-trees, such as the "durian," "rambutan," mango, mangosteen, "tamadac" or jackfruit, "lansat" and bananas, were familiar to me, but there were a great number of fruits that I had never heard of before, and I got their names from my Dayak friends. [13] Needless to say, I never before tasted so many fruits that were entirely new to me, and most of them were ripe at the time of my visit. The "durian" comes easily first. It is without doubt the king of all fruit in both the tropic and temperate zones, and is popular alike with man and beast, the orang-utan being a great culprit in robbing the Dayaks of their "durians." I never saw the "good" "durian" growing wild in Sarawak, but I tasted here a small wild kind with an orange centre which made me violently sick. No description of the "durian" taste can do it justice. But its smell is also past description. It is so bad that many people refuse to taste it. It is a very large and heavy fruit, covered with strong, sharp spines, and as it grows on a very tall tree, it is dangerous to walk underneath in the fruiting season when they are falling, accidents being common among the Dayaks through this cause. I myself had a narrow escape one windy day. I was sitting at the foot of one of these trees eating some of the fallen fruit, when a large "durian" fell from above and buried itself in the mud not half a yard from me. Danna, the second chief, would always leave one or two of the fruit for me on a box close by my head where I slept, before he went off to his "padi "-planting early in the morning, so that I got quite used to the bad smell. The Dayak house was surrounded on three sides by a horrible swamp, the roads through which consisted of fallen trees laid end to end, or else of two or three thick poles, laid side by side, and kept in place by being lashed here and there to two upright stakes, so that I had to balance myself well or come to grief in the thick mud. The Dayak bridges, made chiefly of poles and bamboos, were in many cases awkward things to negotiate, and I had one or two rather nasty falls from them. While the Dayak women and children never showed any fear of me in the house, whenever I met them out in the woods or jungle they would run from me as if I were some kind of wild animal. I saw several Dayak dances. The men put on their war-plumes and with shield and "parang" (mentioned above) twirl round and round and cut with their "parangs" at an imaginary foe, the women all the time accompanying them with the beating of gongs. Dubi one night showed them a Malay dance, which consisted of a sort of gliding motion and a graceful waving of the hands, quite the reverse of the Dayak dance. One night I noticed a general bustle in the house. The women seemed greatly excited, and the men passed to and fro with their "parangs" and "sumpitans" (blowpipes), and cast anxious looks in my direction as they passed me. They told Dubi they were going fishing; but it seemed strange that they should go fishing with these warlike weapons, and I told Dubi so. He himself thought they were going head-hunting, and I felt sure of it, as they left only the old men, youths, women and children behind. I did not see them again till the following evening, nor did I then see signs of any fish. I told Dubi that I thought it best that he should not ask them any questions, as it might be awkward if they thought we suspected them. At the same time, I am bound to admit that there was no direct proof to show that they had been headhunting; and for this I was glad, as there was no cause for me to say anything to the Government about it, and so get my kind hosts into trouble. Some months later I read in a Singapore paper that "the Dayaks in this district," between Sibu and Kuching, were restless and inclined to join form with the Dayaks at Kapit, who had sent Dr. Hose a spear, signifying their defiance of the Sarawak Government. One evening, when out looking for birds, Dubi and I came across two Dayaks, who were perched up in trees, waiting for wild pigs that came to feed on the fallen fruit, when they would spear them from above. They seemed rather annoyed with us for coming and frightening the pigs away, and that evening they told everyone that we were the cause of their not getting a pig. I rather scored them off, by telling Dubi in an angry voice to ask them what "the dickens" they meant by getting up in trees and frightening all my birds away. This highly amused all the other Dayaks, who laughed loud and long, and my two pig-hunting friends retired into the background discomfited. I myself went out one evening with a party of Dayaks after wild pig, and stayed for two hours upon a platform in a tree while they climbed other trees close by. However, no pigs turned up, although two "plandok" (mouse-deer) did, though I did not shoot them for fear of frightening the pigs away. I took my revolver with me, to the great amusement of the Dayaks, who, of course, had not seen one before, and ridiculed the idea of so small a weapon being able to kill a pig. The Dayaks told me that there were plenty of bears here, but I never saw any myself in this part of Borneo. They told me the bears were very fierce, and had often nearly killed some of their friends. The Dayak dogs are fearful cowards, and I was told that they run away at the sight of a wild pig. Animal life here was not plentiful, and quite the reverse of what I had seen in the forests of North Borneo, where it was very plentiful. I noticed the prevalence of that horrible scurvy-like skin-disease among several of the Dayaks. It was common in New Guinea among the Papuans, where it was termed "supuma." I cured two little Dayak children of intermittent fever by giving them quinine and Eno's fruit salts. The result was that I was greatly troubled by demands on my limited stock of medicines. One old man had been growing blind for the last two years, and another was troubled with aches all over him, and they would hardly believe me when I said that I could not cure them. They told Dubi that they thought that the white people who could make such things as I possessed could do anything. So much of my property seemed to amuse and astonish them, that it was a treat to show them such things as my looking-glass, hair-brush, socks, guns, umbrella, watch, etc. I showed them that child's trick of making the lid of my watch fly open, and they were delighted. The Dayak women can hardly be considered good-looking. I saw one or two that were rather pretty, but they were very young and unmarried. Dubi fell madly in love with one of them and she with him, and when I left there were two broken hearts. Many of the little girls of about five and six years old would have been regular pictures if they had only been cleaner. I made the discovery that some of my Dayak friends were addicted to the horrible habit of eating clay, and actually found a regular little digging in the side of a hill where they worked to get these lumps of reddish grey clay, and soon caught some of the old men eating it. They declared that they enjoyed it. All my empty tins (from tinned meats, etc.) were in great demand, and so to save jealousy I actually demoralized the Dayaks to the extent of introducing the raffling system among them. Great was the excitement every evening when I raffled old tins and bottles. Dubi would hand the bits of paper and they would be a long time making up their minds which to take. One night Dubi overheard my Chinese cook telling some of the Dayaks that "the white tuan had no use for these tins himself, that is why he gives them to you." This cook, whom I used to call Cookie, was a great nuisance to me, but he was the most amusing character I ever came across, and he was the source of endless delight to the Dayaks, who enjoyed teasing him and jokingly threatened to cut off his head, until he was almost paralyzed with fright and came and begged me to leave, as we should all have our heads cut off. After a week or two his courage returned and I learned that when I was out of the house he would stand on his head for the amusement of the women and children, though he was by no means a young man. He soon became quite popular with the women, who found him highly amusing, and who were always in fits of laughter whenever he talked. In the evenings he sometimes joined a group of Dayak youths and would start to air his opinions. Then it was not long before they were all jeering and mimicking him, and poor old Cookie would look very foolish and a sickly smile would spread over his yellow features. Finally he would go off and sulk, and when I asked him what the matter was, he would reply, "Damn Dayak no wantee." Whenever I called out for Cookie, the whole house would resound with jeering Dayak cries of "Cookie, Cookie." He and Dubi were always quarrelling, and Cookie would work himself up into such a state of excitement that the place would be full of Dayak laughter, though the Dayak understood not a word of what they were talking about. In my later wanderings in Borneo the quarrel between my two servants, Dayak and Chinaman, grew to such an extent that I feared it would end in murder. The foregoing account, short as it is, will, I trust, give some idea of what my long stay among head-hunting Dayaks was like. All things must have an ending, however, and having finished my collecting in this neighbourhood I said good-bye to my Dayak friends, with deep regret, and I think the sorrow was mutual. I know well that Dubi and his little Dayak sweetheart were almost heartbroken. The Dayaks begged me to stay longer, but I had already stayed longer than I had at first intended. Old Usit, the chief, and his crew of Dayaks paddled me all the way to Sibu. There is little to relate about the journey there, except that the canoe leaked very badly and the Dayaks had to keep bailing her out. At night we tied the canoe up to a small wooden platform outside a Malay house on the Rejang River, to await the change of the tide, and one of the Dayaks knocked at the door of the house so that we could cook some food, but the Malays thought that we were head-hunters, and there was great lamentation, and for some time they refused to open. While eating my food, with my legs dangling over the side of the wooden platform, I noticed a dark object that glistened in the moonlight noiselessly swimming toward me, and I pulled up my legs pretty quickly. It was a large crocodile, attracted, no doubt, by the smell of my dinner. The only objection I had was that it might have taken me for the dinner. CHAPTER XIV Visit to the Birds'-nest Caves of Gomanton. My stay in British North Borneo--Visit to a Tobacco Estate (Batu Puteh)--Start for the Birds'-nest Caves--News of the Local Chief's Death--Applicants for the Panglima-ship--We Visit the late Chief's House-Widows in white--The Hadji "who longed to be King"--Extraordinary Grove of Banyan-trees--Pigs, Crocodiles and Monkeys--Astonishing Swimming Performance of a Monkey--Water Birds Feeding on the Carcase of a Stag--The Hadji and his Men pray at a Native Grave-shrine--An Elephant charges past us--Arrival at the Caves--The Entrance--A Cave of enormous Height, description of the Interior--Return to the Village--Visit to the Upper Caves--Beautiful Climbing Plants--We reach the Largest Cave of all: its Extreme Grandeur--"White" Nests and "Black" Nests secured--Distinctions between the two kinds of Swallows by whom the Nests are made--Millions of small Bats: an Astonishing Sight--Methods of Securing the Nests described--Perilous Climbing Feats--Report of numerous Large Snakes--Cave-coffins, and their (traditional) rich contents--Dangers of the Descent--All's well that ends well. I had just returned down the river with Richardson from Tangkulap. Tangkulap is a journey of several days up the Kinabatangan River in British North Borneo. Richardson was the magistrate for this district, and his rule extended over practically the whole of this river, Tangkulap being his headquarters. Only three or four white men had ever been up the river as far as Tangkulap, it being a very lonely spot in the midst of dense forests, with no other white man living anywhere near. I had stayed with him for two months, making large natural history collections and seeing a great deal of both native and animal life. We had then returned down the river in Richardson's "gobang" (canoe) to Batu Puteh, a large tobacco estate, and the only one on this river. Here we were the guests of Paul Brietag, the manager, a most hospitable German. He and his three German, French, and Dutch assistants were the only other white men on the whole of this great river. While here, Richardson and I determined to visit the wonderful Gomanton birds'-nest caves, from which great quantities of edible birds' nests are annually taken. Very few Europeans had ever visited them, though they are considered among the wonders of the world. We left Batu Puteh in Richardson's canoe early one morning, and, although we had a strong stream with us going down, we did not reach Bilit till evening. Bilit is a large village made up of Malays, Orang Sungei, and Sulus. Quite a crowd met us on our arrival, and they seemed not a little excited. It appeared that their late Panglima (chief), who was also a Hadji, had been on a second voyage to Mecca, and they had just heard that he had died on his way back. "That was quite right," they said; "his time had come, and, besides, it had been foretold that he would die if he tried to go to Mecca again." Two men were most anxious to gain favour with Richardson--viz., the dead man's son and another Hadji, who was the richest man in Bilit, and who had a large share in the Gomanton caves. The reason was that Richardson had the power to appoint whom he liked as the new Panglima, provided, of course, that the man was of some standing and fairly popular. Richardson sent for one of the most influential men in the village to come and talk the matter over, but he lived on the other side of the river, and, it being late, they said he dared not cross in his small "gobang," as the crocodiles are very bad indeed here, and at night they often help themselves to a man out of his canoe. We went to the late Panglima's house and had a chat, but nothing was said about the new Panglima. I caught sight of one of the widows swathed in white, going through all sorts of contortions by way of mourning for her late husband. We found that the people were going to the caves in two or three days to collect the black nests. The white nests had been collected earlier in the year, but the influential Hadji "who would be king" offered to go with us on the morrow and start work earlier than he at first intended if his dreams were favourable, and thus we should be able to see them at work collecting the nests. Here was luck both for ourselves and the Hadji: it meant a step in his hopes of the much-desired Panglima-ship by thus gaining favour with the magistrate over his younger rival. He was a tall, haughty-looking man, with an orange-coloured turban, worn only by Hadjis, and the people seemed to stand in great awe of him and addressed him as "Tuan" or "Tuan Hadji," the word "Tuan" being usually used only when addressing Europeans like ourselves; still, his house in which we spent the night was little better than a pigsty, although he was a very wealthy man. The next morning we were off before sunrise. After leaving the village we had a walk of about an hour and a half over a very steep hill through luxuriant, tall forest, and on the other side came to a small river, the Menungal, on the banks of which was a shed full of "gobangs" (canoes) which were speedily launched, we both getting into the leading one. We were followed by three others, in one of which was the Hadji. Most of the way was through fine forest, the trees arching overhead to shade us from the hot sun, the only exception being when we passed through a stretch of swamps, with low, tangled growth, when the river broadened out, but in the shady forest it was delightful, gliding along to the music of the even dip of the paddles. The most striking feature about the forest on this Menungal River was the extraordinary growth of a species of banyan trees (_Ficus_ sp.). I have seen many curious stilted trees of this _Ficus_ family in various tropical countries I have visited, but these I think were more curious than any I had ever seen. One hardly knew where they began and where they ended, for they all seemed joined together, and roots and branches seemed one and the same thing. It was the acme of vegetable confusion. Even the river could not stop their progress, and we were constantly gliding between their roots and branches. The growth of ferns, orchids and parasites on the branches and roots of these trees was luxuriant to a degree and formed veritable hanging gardens. On these Bornean rivers one is constantly seeing pigs, crocodiles and monkeys, but I noticed on this river an abundance of a monkey which one seldom sees on the large Kinabatangan River. I refer to the very curious proboscis or long-nosed monkey (_Nasalis larvatus_). These animals often sat still overhead and stared down at us in the most contemptuous and indifferent manner, and they looked so human and yet so comical with their enormous red noses that I found myself laughing aloud, our scullers doing the same, till the monkeys actually grinned with indignation. They axe large monkeys with long tails, and are beautifully marked with various shades of grey and brown, and their large, fleshy, red noses give them an extraordinary appearance. One of them did a performance that astonished me. We saw a group of them on a branch over the river about forty yards ahead of us, when one of them jumped into the middle of the river and coolly swam to a hanging creeper up which it climbed, none the worse for its voluntary bath. This was the only time that I had ever seen a monkey swim, but the natives assured me that these monkeys are very good swimmers. It struck me as being a very risky performance, as this river was full of crocodiles. I saw on this river a wonderful orchid growing on large trees. This was a _Grammatophyllum_ with bulbs some times over eight feet in length. The length of the name is certainly suitable for so large an orchid. I saw plenty of water-birds, including white egrets and a long-necked diver which is called the "snake-bird," owing to its long neck projecting lout of the water and thus greatly resembling a snake. I shot several of each kind of bird, plucking the fine plumes from the backs of the egrets. We ate some of the divers that evening and found them first-class food, tasting much like goose. We later in the day disturbed a whole colony of these water-birds feeding on the carcase of a large stag in the river, and the smell was very strong for some distance. I did not attempt to shoot any more mock geese till we had put a good many miles between ourselves and the dead stag. We passed several canoes slowly wending their way to the eaves, the people taking it easy and camping on the banks and fishing. They dried the fish on the roofs of their thatched canoes. Some of these people had very curious rattan pyramid-shaped hats gaily ornamented with strips of bright-coloured cloth. Toward evening the river got exceedingly narrow, and fallen trees obstructed our way, so that we had sometimes to lie flat on our backs to pass under them, and at other times we had to get out while our canoe was hauled over the mud at the side. Just before we reached our destination for the night, we came to a spot where the bank was hung with bits of coloured cloth and calico fastened to sticks, I also noticed some bananas and dried fish tied to the sticks. This signified that there was a native burial ground close by, and all the canoes were stopped, the scullers putting their paddles down, while the Hadji and all his men proceeded to wash their faces in the river. This they did to ensure success in their nest-collecting. We stayed the night in one of two raised half-thatched huts used only by the natives in the collecting seasons, a ladder from the river leading into them. It was almost dark when we arrived, and hardly were we under shelter when rain came down in torrents. It poured all night, and when we started off on foot at sunrise the next morning we found the track in the forest a regular quagmire; in places we waded through mud up to our knees. As we scrambled and floundered through the mud at our best pace we heard a great crashing noise just in front of us, and the air resounded with cries of "Gajah, gajah!" (elephant). I was just in time to see a large elephant tear by. It literally seemed to fly, and knocked down small trees as if they were grass. It seemed greatly frightened, and made a sort of coughing noise. It went by so quickly that I was unable to see whether it had tusks or not. After about three hours' hard tramping, I caught sight of a high mass of white limestone gleaming through the trees. It made a pretty picture in the early morning, the white rock peeping out of luxuriant creepers and foliage. It rises very abruptly from the surrounding forest, and at a distance looked quite inaccessible to a climber. We waded through a stream of clear water, washing the horrible forest mud from off us, and soon found ourselves in a most picturesque village at the very base of the rock. We disturbed quite a crowd of native girls bathing in a spring, and they seemed very much alarmed and surprised at seeing two Europeans suddenly turn the corner. Out of season I don't believe any one lives in this village except some watchers at the mouths of the eaves to guard against thieves. The Hadji gave us a rough hut with a flooring of split bamboo and kept us provided with chickens. All this no doubt was in his estimation part of the necessary steps to securing that much-desired Panglima-ship. The two days we were here, people kept flocking into the village, most of the men carrying long steel-pointed spears, in many cases beautifully mounted with engraved silver: others carried long "parangs" and "krises" in rough wooden sheaths, but the handles were often of carved ivory and silver. After some breakfast we started off to see the near lower cave, which was one of the smaller ones. We followed a very pretty ferny track by the side of a rocky stream for a short distance, the forest being partially cleared and open, with large boulders scattered around. The sky overhead was thick with swallows, in fact one could almost say the air was black with them. These of course were the birds that make the nests. The mouth of the cave partly prepared me for what I was to see. I had expected a small entrance, but here it was, I should say, sixty feet in height and of great width, the entrance being partly overhung with a curtain of luxuriant creepers. The smell of guano had been strong before, but here it was overpowering. Extending inside the cave for about one hundred yards was a small village of native huts used chiefly by the guards or watchers of these caves. Compared with the vastness of the interior of the cave--I believe about four hundred and eighty feet in height--one could almost imagine that one was looking at the small model of a village. A small stream ran out of a large hill of guano, and if you left the track you sank over your knees in guano. The vastness of the interior of this cave impressed me beyond words. It was stupendous, and to describe it properly would take a better pen than mine. One could actually see the very roof overhead, as there were two or three openings near the top (reminding one of windows high up in a cathedral) through which broad shafts of light forced their way, making some old hanging rattan ladders high up appear like silvery spider webs. Of course there were recesses overhead where the light could not penetrate, and these were the homes of millions of small bats, of which more presently. As for the birds themselves, this was one of their nesting seasons, and the cave was full of myriads of them. The twittering they made resembled the whisperings of a multitude. The majority of them kept near the roof, and as they flew to and fro through the shafts of light they presented a most curious effect and looked like swarms of gnats; lower down they resembled silvery butterflies. Where the light shone on the rocky walls and roofs one could distinguish masses upon masses of little silver black specks. These were their nests, as this was a black-nest cave. Somewhere below in the bowels of the earth rumbled an underground river with a noise like distant thunder. This cavernous roar far below and the twittering whisper of the swallows far overhead, combined to add much to the mysteriousness of these wonderful caves. On the ground in the guano I picked up several eggs, unbroken. How they could fall that distance and yet not get smashed is hard to understand, unless it is that they fell in the soft guano on their ends. We were told that when a man fell from the top he was smashed literally into jelly. I also picked up a few birds which had been stunned when flying against the rocks. This saved me from shooting any. Spread out on the ground in the cave and also drying outside, raised from the ground on stakes, were coil after coil of rattan ropes and ladders used for collecting the nests. These always have to be new each season, and are first carefully tested. The ladders are made of well twisted strands of rattan with steps of strong, hard wood, generally "bilian." On our return to the village we bathed in a shady stream of clear water, the banks of which I noted were composed chiefly of guano. In the afternoon we started off in search of the upper eaves. After a short, stiff climb amid natural rockeries of jagged limestone, we passed under a rock archway or bridge, under which were perched frail-looking raised native huts of the watchers. As we stood under this curious archway we looked down a precipice on our left. It was very steep at our feet, but from the far side it took the form of a slanting shaft, which terminated in a little window or inlet into the lower cave we had visited in the morning. In our ascent we had to climb up very rough, steep ladders fastened against the rocky ledges. The rocks were in many places gay with variegated plants, the most notable being a very pretty-leafed begonia, covered with pink and silver spots, the spots being half pink, half white. The natives with us seemed to enjoy eating these leaves; they certainly looked tempting enough. Another fine plant growing among these rocks was a climbing _pothos,_ with very dark green leaves, ornamented with a silver band across each leaf, but the finest of all was a fine velvet-leafed climber, veined with crimson, pink, or white (_Cissus_ sp.). We at length came to the entrance of a long chain of eaves, through which we passed, going down a very steep grade, and our guides had to carry lights. After a climb down some steep rocks in semi-darkness, we at length found ourselves in the largest cave of all, supposed to be about five hundred and sixty feet in height. [14] It, too, had two or three natural windows, through which the light penetrated. One of them was on the top, in the very centre of the cave, and from down below it looked like a distant star. This opening was on the very summit of the Gomanton rock. This cave greatly resembled the smaller one I have already described, except that it was of much grander dimensions. As in the first cave, one could hear the roar of an underground torrent, and the swallows seemed even more numerous. On the rocky walls I noticed plenty of large spiders and a curious insect, with a long body and long, thin legs, which ran very fast, and whose bite we were told was very poisonous. On the way back, when passing through some very low caves, the Hadji got some of his men to knock down for me a few of the white nests from the sides of the cave with long poles, and in another cave they got me some black nests. The difference between these white and black nests is this: they are made by two different kinds of swallows. The white nest is made by a very small bird, but the bird that builds the black nest is twice the size of the other. The white nest looks something like pure white gelatine, and is very clean, and has no feathers in it. The black nest, on the contrary, is plentifully coated with feathers, and it is, in consequence, not worth nearly as much as the white nest. The nests are made from the saliva of the birds. Both are very plain coloured birds; an ordinary swallow is brilliant in comparison. This is unusual in a country so full of brilliant-plumaged birds as Borneo is; but, as they spend most of their lives in the depths of these sombre caves, I suppose it is only natural that their plumage should be obscure and plain. These birds'-nest caves are found all over Borneo and the Malay Peninsula, and also in Java and other parts of the Malay archipelago, but these are by far the largest. The revenue from these caves alone brings the Government a very large sum. By far the greatest number of these nests are sent to China, where birds'-nest soup is an expensive luxury. The natives of Borneo do not eat them. For myself, I found the soup rather tasteless. We were told that if they missed one season's nest collecting, most of the birds would forsake these caves, possibly because there would be so little room for them to build again. I learned that they build and lay four times a year, but I think that they meant that both the black and the white-nest birds lay twice each. The white kind build their first nests about March, and the black kind in May, and, as these nests are all collected before they have time to hatch their eggs, there are no young birds till later in the year, when the nests are not disturbed, but the old nests are collected with the new ones the following year. If the guano could be easily transported to the coast it would be a paying proposition, but the Government fears that it might frighten the birds away. About dusk that evening after we had returned to our hut, I heard a noise like the whistling of the wind, and, going outside, I saw a truly wonderful sight, in fact a sight that filled me with amazement. The millions of small bats which share these caves with the birds were issuing forth for the night from the small hole I spoke about on the very top of the rock leading into the large cave, but what a sight it was! As far as the eye could see they stretched in one even unbroken column across the sky. They issued from the cave in a compact mass and preserved the same even formation till they disappeared in the far distance. As far as I could see there were no stragglers. They rather resembled a thick line of smoke coming out of the funnel of a steamer, with this exception that they kept the same thick line till they went out of sight. The most curious thing about it was that the thick line twisted and wriggled across the sky for all the world like a giant snake, as if it were blown about by gusts of wind, of which, however, there was none. Even with these strange manoeuvres the bats kept the same unbroken solid formation. They were still coming forth in the same manner till darkness set in, and then I could only hear the beating of myriads of wings like the sighing of the wind in the tree-tops. They return in early morning in much the same fashion. I heard that the swallows usually did the same thing, only the other way about; when the bats came out, the swallows entered the eaves, and when the bats went in, the swallows came out, but it being now their nesting season, they went in and out of the eaves irregularly all day, but I was quite satisfied to see the bats go through the performance, as it was one of the most wonderful sights I have ever seen. We had been told that it would be three or four more days before the collecting would take place, and also that they had to wait for a good omen in the shape of a good dream coming to one of the chief owners of the caves. Our pleasure was great, therefore, when the Hadji and some of his followers paid us a visit that night and told us that work should start in the largest cave the next morning for our benefit. That was good news, indeed, as Richardson could not wait more than another day. It was another good move for the Hadji and his Panglima-ship, and I told Richardson he ought to give it him forthwith. The next morning we climbed to the top of the rock. It was hard work climbing over the brittle rocks and up perpendicular and shaky ladders. On reaching the summit we got a splendid view of the surrounding country, and could plainly see the distant sea; but all else was thick, billowy forest, dotted at long intervals with limestone ridges, also covered with forest. Here we found the hole on the top of the large cave, and stretching across it were two long, thick "bilian" logs, to which the natives were now fastening their long rattan ladders before descending them to collect the nests. We crept along the logs and listened to the everlasting twittering far below; but, although we could see nothing but pitchy darkness, the thought of what was below made me soon crawl back with a very shaky feeling in my legs. We then descended again till we came to the mouth of a curious cave, which was practically a dark chasm at our feet. We climbed down into the depths on a straight, swaying ladder, which required a good grip, and then, after a climb over slanting, slippery rocks, we found ourselves in the large cave, on a sort of ledge, within perhaps sixty feet of the roof. We were told that we were the first Europeans who had ever descended on to this ledge. From here we watched the natives collecting the nests. In a short account of this description it is impossible for me to detail all the wonderful methods the natives had for collecting the nests, but the chief method was by descending rattan ladders, which were let down through the hole on the top of the cave. It made one quite giddy even to watch the men descending these frail swaying ladders with over five hundred feet of space below them. The man on the nearest ladder had a long rattan rope attached low down to his ladder, with a kind of wooden anchor at the end of it. At the second attempt he succeeded with a wonderful throw in getting the anchor to stick in the soft guano on the edge of the slanting ledge where we were. It was then seized by several men waiting there; by these it was hauled up until they were enabled to catch hold of the end of the ladder, which they dragged higher and higher up the steep, slanting rocks we had come down by. This in time brought the flexible ladder, at least the part on which the man was, level with the roof, and he, lying on his back on the thin ladder, pulled the nests off the rocky roof, putting them into a large rattan basket fastened about his body. We saw many other methods they have of collecting these nests by the aid of long bamboo poles and rattan ropes, up which they climbed to dizzy heights. These eaves, we were told, were full of very large harmless snakes, but we did not come across them. If I had had a good head and plenty of skill and pluck as a climber, I might have come away a wealthy man, as the Hadji told us that in a sort of side cave high up in the large cave were the coffins of the men that first discovered these caves, and with them were large jars of gold and jewels, but no one dared touch them, as they said it would be certain death to the man who did so. A man once did take some, but a few days later was taken violently ill and so had them put back and thus recovered. It was not for any scruples of this kind that I declined the Hadji's offer to help myself when he pointed out to me the spot where they were, but I think he must have guessed that I would not have trusted myself on one of those frail swaying ladders with over five hundred feet of space beneath me. On the way back we scrambled up to a small cave where there were numerous carved coffins and bones which belonged to some of the former owners of the caves, but alas! no jars of gold; possibly poor men, they did not realize good prices. We returned down the rocks a different way, which made Richardson indulge in some hearty language at the Hadji's expense, who must have had fears that the Panglima-ship was at the last moment slipping away from him. It certainly was awkward and dangerous work climbing down the steep precipices, and we could never have done it, but that the rocks were quite honeycombed with small holes which enabled us to get a good hold for our hands. That night was a busy one for me, skinning my numerous birds and blowing the eggs by a dim light to the accompaniment of Richardson's snores, and I did not get to bed till 2 a.m. We were up again at 4 a.m. for the return journey. But I had seen one of the most wonderful sights in the world, and to me it seemed extraordinary that until I came to Borneo I had never even heard of the Gomanton eaves. Some day, perhaps within our time, they will become widely advertised, and swarms of noisy tourists will come over in airships from London and New York, but there will be one thing lacking--all romance will have gone from these lonely wilds and forests, and that is the chief thing. The Hadji returned with us to Bilit, and got his desire, the Panglima-ship, and well he deserved it. NOTES [1] C is pronounced as Th.: _e.g.,_ "Cawa"--"Thawa." [2] Nabuna, pron. Nambuna. [3] Panes of glass in a _Fijian_ house are very unusual, but this house, being Government-built, was European. I can only recall one other instance, that of Ratu Kandavu Levu on his small island of Bau, and then it was only in the native house where he entertained European guests. [4] These circumstances were a matter of common knowledge, at the time of my visit, all over Fiji. On the other hand it must be remembered that Ratu Lala did not think he was doing any harm, for the woman, having done wrong, required punishing, and naturally South Sea Island ideas of punishment, inherited from past generations, differ radically from those of Europeans. [5] _Ptychosperma_ sp. [6] _Pritchardia Pacifica._ [7] _Elateridæ_ [8] Pron.: longa-longa. [9] Pronounced "Samothe." [10] "b" pronounced "mb." [11] R. Shelford's Report. [12] From a Singapore Paper. [13] Some of these names that I got were "kudong" "blimbing," "mawang," "sima" "lakat," "kamayan," "nika," "esu," "kubal," "padalai" and "rambai." [14] These were the heights given me by the Malays. 
30233	----	FOLK-LORE IN BORNEO A SKETCH BY WILLIAM HENRY FURNESS 3D, M.D., F.R.G.S. MEMBRE DE LA SOCIÉTÉ DE GÉOGRAPHIE À PARIS MEMBER OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY MEMBER OF THE AMERICAN ORIENTAL SOCIETY [_PRIVATELY PRINTED_] WALLINGFORD DELAWARE COUNTY, PENNSYLVANIA 1899 [Illustration: A KAYAN CHIEF.] A SKETCH OF THE FOLK-LORE OF BORNEO. In this short monograph I do not pretend to give anything more than a Sketch of the Folk-lore to be found among the Borneans. The island is large, and the people, scattered and isolated by constant inter-tribal warfare, differ one tribe from another, in language, customs and appearance almost more than do Germans, French, or English; to say that any tradition or custom is common to all the tribes, or even to all of one tribe, of Borneans, would be far too sweeping. A still greater drawback to any universality, in legend or custom, is that there is no written language, not even so much as picture-drawings on rocks to give us a clue to ancient myths or traditions. The natives of Borneo are in a certain sense savages, but yet they are savages of a high order, possessed of a civilization far above what is usually implied by the term; they live together in what almost might be called coöperative communities, they practise the art of weaving, they forge rough implements of iron, they cultivate rice and esculent plants, and in all their work, such as house-building, boat-building, manufacture of cloth and weapons of warfare, they show an ambitious desire, and a skilful ability, to ornament their work and add, to its usefulness, pleasure to the eye. One of their gravest faults, however, is their embarrassing tenacity to the _fad_ of head-hunting, and a strict adherence to the principle of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. This keeps the different households, even of the same tribe, at constant war and makes inevitable an uncomfortable yet pleasing interchange of heads during the tedious months of the rainy season, when time hangs heavy on the warriors' hands, and disused swords might get rusty. So little is known of the social and anthropological position of these people, to others than those who make Malaysia and the South Sea islands their study, that it may not be out of place to give a short description of the people themselves before entering on the subject of their Folk-lore. The remote origin of the Borneans, as well as of the greater part of all of the inhabitants of the Polynesian islands, is an ethnological problem; they are not Malay, neither are they Mongolian nor Negrito; they bear resemblances here and there to all of these races, but not marked enough to claim any one as the parent stock. Furthermore, there is some evidence in favor of the theory that they are the result of successive migrations of tribes from northern India and from Anam. [Illustration: A KAYAN LONG-HOUSE.] The inland tribes of Borneo, by which I include all the natives except the Malays settled along the coast, are without any definite forms of religious worship; they make idols of wood, but I have never seen any offering made to them, nor do they regard them apparently as anything more than as scarecrows to frighten off evil spirits. They are the children of Dame Nature and as such have inherited their mother's disregard for life, and this feature of their temperament has kept them in a constant turmoil of warfare, which in turn compels them for mutual protection to band together in communities of several families and build for themselves a common house wherein to live, ever ready to turn out in force and resist the attacks of hostile tribes. In not a few instances these houses are as much as a quarter of a mile in length and shelter as many as four hundred people. Every household is presided over by a head-man known as the elder, or _Orang Tuah_, and he in turn is governed in a measure by the chief of the tribe, known as the _Penghulu_. The government of the household seems to be conducted in the quietest manner; I have lived on several occasions in these houses for three or four weeks at a time, and have never seen anything that could be called a violent quarrel between two members of the household, nor have I seen the Orang Tuah or the Penghulu submit any of the members to what might be considered harsh treatment. I have also been with them when they were out on the warpath, to use a North-American Indian term, when every nerve was at high tension on the look-out for enemies and every thought was turned to slaughter, but I have never seen the counsel of the Chief disregarded. Of course, some Chiefs are weak and fail to give commands because they are afraid to act, but a command once given is carried out, or at least not disregarded, and I could never detect any means which were taken to enforce an authority thus implicitly obeyed. As a people, they are not active-minded nor industrious, but yield to the influence of climate, and, following the example offered to them by the vast, dense jungle on every side, accept life as easily as it comes. They are no exception to the rule that all untutored minds, living in constant communion with any awful aspect of Nature, be it gigantic mountains, a waste of waters, or an illimitable jungle, are saturated with superstitions; every pool, every tree, every rock is the home of an evil spirit, and all mysterious noises in the forest are ghostly whisperings. Everywhere are signs and omens to warn man of danger or direct his course; theirs is a life where no schooling is so vital as the ability to read aright the "sermons in stones, books in the running brooks." For them the world is the patch of jungle covering the few square miles that they know, and bounded by the hills in the distance; seldom do they get an extended view of the surrounding country; trees hem them in on all sides and the mountains are so difficult of ascent, and furthermore so infested with demons or "antu," that the summits can be gained only at the risk of body, and, still worse, of soul. Many natives of the interior live and die with never a glimpse of the sea, and the tales which the Malay and Chinese traders tell of lands beyond the horizon where white men live, are as incomprehensible to them as are to us the conjectural accounts which astronomers give of the canals on the planet Mars. Naturally enough, of course, creation began on the island of Borneo, or Kalamantan, as they call it, and the first people were Borneans and spoke the language of the tribe that tells the story. Every tribe has a different account of creation, and claims that its people sprang from the first created mortals. The following account is the story of Genesis according to the Kayans of Northwestern Borneo:-- In the old, old days, when there was nothing but water and sky, there fell from the heavens an enormous rock; that part of it which protruded from the water was hard, slippery, and quite bare, with no soil nor plants upon it of any kind. After a long time, however, the rains produced slime upon the rock, and little worms, called _halang_, were bred in this slime, and they bored into the rock and left fine sand outside of their burrows; this sand eventually became soil and covered the rock. Again years passed and the rock remained barren of all other life until suddenly there dropped from the Sun a huge wooden handle of a _Parang_ (or sword) known as _Haup Malat_. This parang-handle sank deep into the rock and taking root in the soil it sprouted and grew into a great tree, named _Batang Utar Tatei_, whose branches stretched out over the new land in every direction. When this tree was fully grown, there dropped from the Moon a long rope-like vine known as the _Jikwan Tali_. This vine quickly clung to the tree and took root in the rock. Now the vine, Jikwan Tali, from the Moon became the husband of the tree, Batang Utar Tatei, from the Sun, and Batang Utar Tatei gave birth to twins, a male and a female, not of the nature of a tree, but more or less like human beings. The male child was called _Klobeh Angei_, and the female was called _Klubangei_. These two children married and then gave birth to two more children, who were named _Pengok N'gai_, and _Katirah Murai_. Katirah Murai was married to old man _Ajai Avai_, who comes without pedigree into the narration. From Katirah Murai and Ajai Avai are descended many of the chiefs who were founders of the various tribes inhabiting the land of Kalamantan; their names are Sejau Laho, Oding Lahang, from whom the Kayans spring, Tabalan, Pliban, and, finally, Tokong, the father of head-hunting. As time went on, that which formerly had been merely slime on the rock, became moss, and little by little small plants were produced. The twigs and leaf-like appendages of the tree, evidently the female principle in nature, as they fell to the ground, became birds, beasts, and fishes. (Let me mention here that the endowment of leaves with life and locomotion is no more than natural; while in the jungle I have repeatedly seen what, in every respect, appeared to be a leaf fall to the ground and then miraculously put out legs and walk away; it was one of those remarkable insects of the _Mantis_ family, or "walking leaves.") The inhabitants of the rock had no need of fire in those days, for the sun beat down on them strongly, and there was no night; it was not until many, many years had elapsed that an old man named _Laki Oi_ invented a method of obtaining fire by means of friction produced by pulling a strip of rattan rapidly back and forth beneath a piece of dry wood. This process of making fire he called _Musa_, and it is still the only method used in obtaining fire for ceremonials, such as the naming of a child, or when communicating with the omen-birds. Laki Oi also taught them the use of the fire-drill, which he called the _Nalika_. On the main trunk of Batang Utar Tatei was a large excrescence, from which exuded a resinous gum called _Lutong_, which, as it dropped to the ground beneath, was immediately transformed into chickens and swine; and it is because they were thus formed out of the very heart and substance of the tree that they are always used in the reading of auguries. From this same cause, there was innate in them an insight into the innermost workings of Nature and a knowledge of the future. The first beings with any resemblance to man had neither legs, nor breasts, and consisted merely of a head, chest, arms, and a fragment of a body which hung down in shreds and rags, having the appearance of twisted snakes. When they moved they dragged themselves along the ground by their arms. (From this description and from native carvings, I am inclined to believe that a large cuttle-fish or octopus must have suggested this idea to the original narrator of this tradition.) Little by little, the body was brought into more compact form, and, in a later generation, legs appeared, but it was a long time before they became accustomed to legs and able to use them in moving about. A survival of this awkwardness, so say the Kayans, is still noticeable in the way in which children crawl about the floor, and in their clumsy walk when first they learn to stand upright. The heads of these first people were, furthermore, much larger than the heads of the present generation, and, since it was the first part formed, it is the oldest part of the body, and on this account the most important member, and valued accordingly whether dead or alive. This account is, as far as I know, purely Bornean, inasmuch as had there been any admixture from a foreign source (as we shall see further on was probably the case with the Dyaks) there would have been possibly some reference to a Supreme Creator rather than to this union of a vine and a tree as the original source of life. The Kayans from whom I obtained this account have had exceedingly little communication with the outside world, except through occasional Malay or Chinese traders. There is just a possibility that the idea of the wooden sword-handle being the ultimate _fons et origo_ of all life comes from the fact that the word for chief--"penghulu"--is derived from "hulu," meaning a sword-handle, and the prefix "peng" denoting agency, so that the whole word means literally "the master of the sword," and thus the ruler or chief. From association of ideas, the sword-handle, without which the blade is ineffective and useless, may have been suggested to them as the chief of all beings. The sudden appearance of Ajai Avai on the scene as the husband of Katirah Murai, is not at all at variance with the accounts from many other sources of the populating of the world. In Laki Oi, we recognize the Kayan "Prometheus," whose memory is revered by sanctifying the fire procured after his manner of teaching, and from this tradition it is probable that the procuring of fire by means of the "fire-saw" is the aboriginal method. Should all of the fires in a Kayan house become extinguished and no spark be left, new fires may be started by this method, and by this method alone; even the fire-drill, and flint and steel, which are not unknown to them, are tabooed. The Dayaks, who are closely akin in every respect to the Malays, and no doubt adopted the traditions which were rife among the Malays both before and after the latter became converted to Mohammedanism, give an account of the creation of the world differing in every particular from the foregoing Kayan story. One of the Dayak versions of the creation which I heard from the people of that tribe, living in the Baram district of Sarawak, is that in the beginning there were two large birds,--the _Burong Iri_ and the _Burong Ringgong_ (Burong meaning _bird_), who made all the rivers, the great sea, the earth, and the sky. The first things to have life were plants and trees. When trees were first made, the winds blew them down, and again and again the Iri and the Ringgong had to set them up, until in their great wisdom they realized the necessity of props and stays, so they fashioned the strong vines and creepers. Then these two creators saw what pleasant places the boughs and branches of these trees would make for other beings; whereupon they created birds and all flying animals, like bats and flying squirrels. Then for a long while they consulted together, and, finally, decided that they would make a man who should walk about on the earth; at first, they made him of clay, but when he was dried he could neither speak nor move, which provoked them, and they ran at him angrily; so frightened was he that he fell backward and broke all to pieces. The next man that they made was of hard wood, but he, also, was utterly stupid, and absolutely good for nothing. Then the two birds searched carefully for a good material, and eventually selected the wood of a tree known as the _Kumpong_, which has a strong fibre and exudes a quantity of deep red sap, whenever it is cut. Out of this tree they fashioned a man and a woman, and were so well pleased with this achievement that they rested for a long while and admired their handiwork. Then they decided to continue creating more men; they returned to the Kumpong tree, but they had entirely forgotten their original pattern, and how they had executed it, and they were therefore able to make only very inferior creatures, which became the ancestors of the _Maias_ (the Orang Utan) and monkeys. The man and the woman were very helpless and hardly knew how to obtain the simplest necessities of life, so the Iri and the Ringgong devised the _Ubi_--a wild sweetpotato--the wild Tapioca, the Kaladi, or, as we know it, the Kaladium, and other edible roots, whereof the man and woman soon learned to eat; fire, however, was unknown to these first people and they had to eat all of their food raw. Contemporaneously with the Maias and the monkeys many other animals came into being, among them the dog. For a long time all living things were friendly to one another and lived in the land of Kaburau, which lies near a branch of the great Kapuas river, and is, even to this day, considered by the Dayaks as the garden-spot of the world. The dog, however, because he cleaned himself with his tongue, soon came to be despised by all other animals, and although a bully he was yet subservient to man. Then the deer and many of the other animals taunted the dog, saying that he was so mean-spirited and servile that although man thrashed him, nevertheless he fawned upon him and followed after him; which they would never do, so they went off to the jungle to live. But the dog comforted himself by saying that "When the man is about to strike me I crouch down and sometimes this keeps his hand off; furthermore, I cannot live on the poor food that these others must eat." Hence, the dog follows and obeys man. One day when the man and the dog were in the jungle together, and got drenched by rain, the man noticed that the dog warmed himself by rubbing against a huge creeper, called the _Aka Rarah_, whereupon the man took a stick and rubbed it rapidly against the Aka Rarah, and to his surprise obtained fire. This was the origin of the _Sukan_, or fire drill, and ever after the man had fire in his house. Not long after, in accidentally dropping an Ubi near the fire, he found that it became much more pleasant to the taste; by this accident cooking was discovered. [Illustration: MAKING FIRE WITH A FIRE-DRILL.] In the course of time, the dog and other animals began to multiply, and man imitated their example; the woman brought forth a male child, whose name was _Machan Buntu_. After many years, the woman gave birth to a female child who, when she was well grown, married her brother Machan Buntu and gave birth to seventy children at one time. These children left their home and scattered all over the world. Some became wood sprites and mountain gnomes, living in the trees, in the rivers, and under ground. The tradition of the manufacture of man out of wood instead of clay is thoroughly in keeping with an origin purely Dayak. The Dayaks never have been proficient in pottery, and to this day they carve their bowls and dishes out of hard wood, otherwise it seems to me that clay would have suggested itself to them as the most suitable substance whereof to have made man. Another item looks as if part of the story were an interpolation, namely, where it is related that the two birds were so pleased with their work after making man, that they rested; this looks like a suggestion due to the first chapter of Genesis. Again, in that land of Kaburau, where all animals lived in perfect harmony, and which was the garden of the world, we may recognize the garden of Eden. Owing to the lack of writing, as I said before, it is impossible to say how old this tradition is, or to what extent it is known to Dayaks in other parts of the country; I have heard that very much the same story is told by the natives in the Rejang district several hundred miles south of the Baram; where the chiefest difference in the accounts is that earlier and higher than the birds there was a Supreme Being called _Rajah Gantalla_, who after creating the two birds, committed the rest of the work to them. I think in the _-allah_ of this name (I speak under correction) we may discern a strong indication of Mohammedan influence. The first man, instead of being carved entirely of Kumpong wood, was made, in this latter account, of clay and then filled with the sap of the Kumpong tree. A tradition (I do not say "legend," for this implies writing) which all the Kayans seem to know and to take pleasure in relating, is connected with the origin of their rite of head-hunting, for, although every possible means is employed by the European rulers of the island to stop this custom, it is still, nevertheless the one ruling passion of the people. Nay, it is part of their Religion; no house is blest which is not sanctified by a row of human skulls, and no man can hope to attain to the happy region of Apo Leggan unless he, or some near relative of his, has added a head to the household collection. Let me correct, however, with regard to head-hunting, what is probably the prevalent idea that the heads are hung up in the houses bleeding and raw, just as they are severed from the body. This is quite wrong; whether or not they would tolerate in their homes such horrid objects I cannot say, but certain it is that the heads are first subjected to fire and smoke until the flesh has dropped away, and what is then hung up is merely a skull; unpleasant enough, but not so bad as is generally supposed. [Illustration: A KAYAN YOUTH.] The tradition is that the great chief Tokong, when out on a war expedition, was told by Kop, the frog, that he should always take, instead of only the hair, the whole head of his enemies; Tokong was angry, at first, at the frog, but his followers at length persuaded him to let them try the experiment on their next attack. After taking the whole heads, the war party retreated quickly to the river down which they had come, and came to the spot where they had left their boats and were surprised to find that everything was exactly as they had left it. When they embarked, lo, and behold! the current of the stream was, for their sakes, reversed and like a flash they were carried up-stream and reached their home in a miraculously short time. During the fifteen days that they had been absent the crop of rice had not only sprouted, but had grown, had ripened, and was almost ready to be harvested; the members of their family who had been sick when they left, were now all well, the lame could walk and the blind see. The wise men waggled their heads, and one and all declared (and who can blame them?) that ever after they would stick to the custom that Kop had taught them. It is not unfair to infer from this tradition that they have a crude, germinal sense of the barbarity of their actions, in so far as they think it necessary to invent an excuse to palliate that savage love of trophy-hunting which seems inborn in mankind. The rite of head-hunting is by no means confined to Borneo; the Formosans, and also many of our new fellow-citizens, among the tribes of the Philippines, are enthusiastic head-hunters, and our own cherished Indians within our own borders have not yet given up their love for a scalp; it would be perilous to assert that it is not a United States custom. The idea that the taking of a head is necessary in order to obtain entrance to the pleasant regions of the land of departed spirits, is a doctrine taught by the chiefs in order to make men brave in battle, and do all in their power to avoid the punishment which awaits the coward. The Kayan Hades is believed to be under ground, and like the Hades of the ancient Greeks there is a guide to the entrance who corresponds to a certain extent to Charon. But their river Styx is not a stream, but a deep and wide ditch, through which flow ooze and slime swarming with worms and maggots; the souls of the departed must cross over this ditch not by a ferry, but by means of a fallen tree-trunk, guarded by the great demon _Maligang_, who challenges all comers, and if they have no record of bravery, he shakes the tree-trunk until they fall into the ditch below and are eternally tortured by the devouring worm that dieth not. Over the land of spirits presides the great demon _Laki Tenangan_, who assigns the souls to their proper place, and sees that they get their deserts, whether good or bad. In this shadowy world, APO LEGGAN is one of the principal regions, and is the abode of the spirits of those who die from sickness or from old age. The souls in _Apo Leggan_ have much the same lot as they had in this world; the poor remain poor, and the rich maintain their rich estate, and even the soul that has been harassed in life in the upper air must none the less expect to find misfortune and perplexity in the world to come. In the absence of any definite code of morals, this is, perhaps, the most suitable belief that a savage tribe could have; it stimulates them to a constant endeavor to better their condition in this life and make their mark in some way, so that the life to come, in which they have a firm belief, may not be a continuation of the hardships they have endured here. Their methods of gaining wealth may not conform to our ideas of propriety, but then all is fair in love and war, and as they have very little idea of love, their motto has to be "all is fair in war;" life in the jungle is little else than a ceaseless struggle for the survival of the fittest. LONG JULAN, a second division, is where live the souls of those who have died a violent or sudden death, either on the battlefield, or in their own clearings by the accidental fall of a tree; and there also dwell the young mothers who have died in childbirth; they become the wives of young warriors who likewise have been cut off in the bloom of youth and are therefore proper mates for unfortunate little mothers. Such beliefs naturally tend to the taking of life; a young man, for instance, who loses his wife in childbirth wishes to meet her again in the next world, and his ambition to go on the warpath is doubly strong. Is he fortunate enough to take a head, he gains high rank among warriors; should he be killed, he has the comfortable assurance that he will again meet his wife in _Long Julan_. The souls in _Long Julan_ have an easy time and are always fairly well off, whatever their circumstances were in this life. TAN TEKKAN, a third division, is the place to which Laki Tenangan consigns suicides; wretched and woe begone in appearance, their souls wander about in the jungle and in the clearings trying to pick up a living by eating what roots and fruits they can find. This joyless Hereafter is calculated to make those who contemplate suicide, rather perform some self-sacrificing act of bravery whereby they will not only benefit those whom they leave behind, but also gain for themselves a more pleasant position in the world to come; therefore suicide is not at all common. TENYU LALU, a fourth region, is assigned to the spirits of still-born children. These little souls are said to be exceedingly brave and need no other weapon wherewith to defend themselves than a stick of wood; they have never felt pain nor experienced danger in this world, and are therefore totally ignorant of such emotions. Whether or not they increase in size in _Tenyu Lalu_ is not known, but it is generally supposed that they live together in a little world of their own. Finally, LING YANG is the abode of those who have died by drowning; it lies below the beds of rivers, and here the spirits soon become exceedingly rich. All the goods lost in rivers by the capsizing of boats in the rapids, or when they run foul of a snag in deep water, go into the coffers of the dwellers in _Ling Yang_. Such are the main divisions of the _Dali Matei_, or country of the dead; there are, however, many sacred hills, rivers, and lakes wherein dwell certain powerful demons who govern the spirits. In this nether world, some say that there are trees and plants and animals much the same as in this; this point, however, seemed open to considerable doubt in the minds of some whom I questioned, while others had so definite an idea of it that they drew maps to show the positions of the different regions. They seemed to regard it as a large river, along whose tributaries dwelt the various classes of departed spirits. The Dayongs, or medicine men, are the only ones who are supposed really to know; these all maintain that, while acquiring their power over sickness, they had visited the land of spirits. In the mythology of all countries there is sure to be a hero who has made the descent to Hades and returned to tell the tale, and the Kayans are no exceptions; they have their Orpheus, only his name is Gamong. Gamong, during an attack of fever, realized that he was at the point of death, but was loath to resign his spirit, so he called his friends around him and begged them to dress him up, after death, in all his war-clothes, and not to bury him for three days, but to place him in a sitting posture with his sword and spear in his hands. He comforted them by saying that he had an inner assurance that he had a terrible encounter before him, but that he would actually return to this world in about three days. Shortly after this, his breath ceased and his friends performed all the rites of burial, just as he had requested. For three days his body remained rigid; at the end of that time, he came back to life and told his open-eyed friends his adventures as follows: "When my spirit left you, I went directly down the path which leads to the great tree-trunk, _Bintang Sikopa_, where Maligang stands; according to his wont, he hailed me and told me to halt, which I would not do. Then Maligang, whose arm is enormous, many times bigger than his body, began to shake the tree, calling out 'who are you?' I replied 'I am Gamong, a brave warrior, and you must not shake the tree while I cross.' Maligang then said, consulting the pegs with which he records the deeds of men, 'What proof have I that you have been brave?' At this I was furious, I drew my parang, uplifted my spear and ran amok, rushing into Maligang's house, smashing everything and overturning the great jars of rice-toddy, of which there is an abundance, but whereof no one ever drinks. Maligang was frightened and bolted from the house, shouting as he fled, 'I have not got you now, but in seven years' time you must return.' Finding that Maligang had fled, and that there were other obstacles to prevent me from going on, I returned to this world and its trials." The story goes that Gamong lived seven years after this, and then succumbed body and soul to the great Maligang; and as there is no record of his bravery, he was probably shaken off of the tree-trunk and disappeared in the deep pit seething with maggots. All this veracious history I got by word of mouth from a Kayan of the Tinjar valley. Almost every medicine man has been down among the spirits of the dead, and in proof of his assertions, a curiously shaped stone, or a knot of wood, is displayed, which has been given by the spirits and is endowed with all sorts of marvellous properties. I have in my possession a Dayong's whole outfit of charms which I bought from his relatives after his death; they were afraid to touch it, and for another Dayong to use it is taboo of the worst kind. Such charms are usually buried with the practitioner, but this old fellow evidently did not have a very large practice, and, at his death, he was somewhat neglected. One of the charms is a stone in which an active imagination might trace a resemblance to the hand or foot of an animal; the sorrowing relatives told me, with awe and bated breath, that it was given to their uncle by a spirit on the top of a mountain, and that it was the foot of a dragon, one of the most powerful resources of the Dayong pharmacopoeia. [Illustration: KAYAN WOMEN.] Companions to the stories of visits to the regions below the earth are stories of visits to the world above the skies, to which adventurous heroes climb either by vines or ropes, which dangle suddenly in front of them, or by means of lofty trees. "Jack and the Bean Stalk" is a parallel story in our own folklore. Sir Spencer St. John[1] gives a Dayak account of the introduction of rice among the Orang Iban, as they call themselves, which states that "when mankind had nothing to eat but fruit and a species of fungus which grows round the roots of trees, a party of Ibans, among whom was a man named _Si Jura_ (whose descendants live to this day in the village of Simpok) went forth to sea. They sailed on for a long time until they came to a place where they heard the distant roar of a large whirlpool, and, to their amazement, saw before them a huge fruit tree rooted in the sky and thence hanging down, with its branches touching the waves. At the request of his companions, Si Jura climbed among its boughs to collect the fruit, which was in abundance; when he got among the boughs, he was tempted to ascend the trunk and find how the tree grew in that position. On looking down he saw his companions making off with the boat loaded with fruit; there was nothing for him to do but go on climbing. At length he reached the roots of the tree and found himself in the country of the Pleiades [which the Dayaks call 'the seven chained-stars']; when he stood upon the ground he met a man-like being, whose name was Si Kira, and he went with him to his house. For food Si Kira offered to him a mess of soft white grains, and told him to eat. 'What, eat those little maggots?' said Si Jura. 'They are not maggots, that is boiled rice,' replied Si Kira, and he forthwith instructed him in the art of planting, weeding, reaping, husking, and boiling rice. "While Si Kira's wife was out, getting some water, Si Jura peeped into one of the tall jars that were standing near by, and looking straight through the bottom of it, he could see his father's house and all his brothers and sisters sitting around talking. His spirits were much depressed at the remembrance of the home that perhaps he should never see again, and instead of eating he wept. Si Kira at once saw what was the matter, and assured him that he would arrange everything satisfactorily for him; then Si Jura fell to and ate a hearty meal, and afterwards he was given three kinds of rice, and Si Kira further instructed him how to fell the jungle, burn it, then take the omens from the birds before planting, and when he harvested to hold a feast. By means of a long rope Si Jura was lowered down to the earth again, close to his father's house. From his visit to the Pleiades the Dayaks learned all that they know about farming, and, what is more, to this day the Pleiades themselves tell them when to begin farming, for, according to their position in the sky in the morning and evening, they cut down the jungle, burn, plant, and reap." I think there can be no doubt that Si Kira bestowed a great blessing on the Dayaks when he gave them rice; but I am very sure that he saddled them with a dire affliction when he introduced to them the omen-birds; more procrastination, failure of expeditions, and exasperation of soul can be laid to the score of these birds than to anything else on earth. There is hardly an undertaking, however slight, that can be begun without first consulting these wretched birds. Yet it is hardly to be wondered at, that all tribes should hold the birds to be little prophets of the jungle, dashing across man's path, at critical moments, to bless or to ban. In the deep jungle, which at high noon is as silent as "sunless retreats of the ocean," gay-plumaged birds are not sitting on every bough singing plaintive, melodious notes; such lovely pictures exist solely in the mind of the poet or of him who has never visited the tropics. In the thick tangle of leaves and branches overhead, the larger birds are seen with difficulty, even after considerable practice, and the smaller birds appear as but a flash of light, as they dart through the interlacing palms and vines; the apparition, with its sudden gleam and instant disappearance, starts the impulse to make a wish, as when we see a star shoot across the heavens. This same natural and almost irresistible impulse, which we have all experienced, I suggest as one of the explanations of the tendency of the Bornean mind to accept the birds as the intelligent forerunners of good or ill. These unsophisticated natives wander forth with some wish in their hearts, and should a bird of the right species (for not all birds are omen-birds) cross their path, the fulfilment of their wishes is established beyond a doubt by its mere appearance, and it is to be feared (for they are mortal) that if they do not want to see the bird--well, there are none so blind as those who won't see. When it comes to taking omens for such an important event as the planting of rice, or for going on the warpath, then the ceremony extends over ten days or two weeks, and the opinion of the small barking deer also must be consulted; furthermore, the whole household is under the ban of a taboo, or _permantang_, as they call it, and the people must all stay indoors while the three men who are appointed as searchers are abroad on their omen-seeking errand. So firm is their trust in the wisdom of the birds that even if they have worked for months at a clearing they will abandon it and never plant it, if the omens at the time of sowing be unfavorable. Certain birds must be seen on the right hand to be favorable, while others are most propitious when they soar overhead, or give a shrill cry on the left; on more than one occasion, when traveling in native canoes, a bird which ought to have appeared on the right has been seen on the left, and, to my utter bewilderment, without a word the boat has been swung round in the stream so as to bring to the right what was on the left, thus slyly fabricating a bad omen into a good one, and for some distance we have gone in the opposite direction, but now with highly favorable omens. When they conclude that the bird has forgotten his warning or lost sight of us, the boat has been again turned, fate has been deceived, and we journey on as before. Once our whole party of eight or ten boats had to pull up at the bank and walk through the jungle for a quarter of a mile or so to make a bothersome white-headed hawk think that he had mistaken the object of our expedition. When a favorable bird has been seen, a fire of chips is at once built on the bank of the river, thereby letting the bird know that his kind attention has been appreciated, Fire is always the go-between of man and the birds, or any of the spirits; it forms an important part in the ceremonies of consecration and absolution, and by means of fire a man may break through a taboo, or _permantang_. Should a man have a fruit-tree, for instance, which he wishes to protect, he places about it several cleft sticks with stones thrust in the clefts, and the stones are told to guard the tree and afflict with dire diseases any pilferer of the fruit. Now, should a friend of the owner see this sign of _permantang_ and yet wish some of the fruit, let him but build a fire and commission the fire to tell the stones that he is a friend of the owner, and that it is all right if he takes the fruit; then, when the fire is burnt out, the fruit may be taken with impunity. In the ceremony of naming a child, the sacrificial pig is touched with a fire brand before it is harangued by the Dayong, or medicine man; and to determine whether or not the chosen name be propitious, the strip of rattan which has been used on the fire-saw to obtain the sacred fire, is bent into a loop until its ends just meet; it is then set on fire in the middle and allowed to burn through. If the two pieces thus made are of uneven length the name is good; if they are both the same length another name must be selected. The ashes from this burning are made into a paste and smeared on the child's forehead just before it is deluged with a bowl of cold water, and the name is made public for the first time. It is strange what a similarity exists in different races relative to this ceremony of giving a name. Why water should be used to confirm the rite, they cannot themselves explain, except by saying that it is a custom handed down to them from their grandfathers and their great-great-grandfathers. It can hardly have suggested itself to the minds of the Borneans as an element of purification and cleansing; to their mind water does not possess these properties. Water is good to drink when you are thirsty, and refreshing to bathe in when you are hot, that is all; dirt has no horrors to the Bornean mind, and after a plunge in the river has refreshed the body, the Kayan, Dayak, Kenyah, Sibop, or whatever the tribe, will put on the same dirty waist-cloth or cotton jacket that has never known soap, and has seldom if ever been nearer the water than when on the back of its owner. Perhaps it is that water is symbolic of life and motion; the river is always moving, it murmurs and talks to itself, a draft of its coolness and a plunge into its embrace adds new life to man; why should it not be the giver of life? In almost all the native languages of Borneo the word for water and river is the same; even when water is brought up into the house it is still the river, and when they drink, they drink the river; when they boil their rice they boil in the river, and when they name their children they pour the river over them. Many subtribes or households take their name from the river on which they live, as, for instance, the Long Patas who live, or used to live, at the mouth of the Pata river (Long meaning junction of one river with another), the Long Kiputs, the Long Lamas, and many others that might be named, including the whole tribe of the Kayans, who take their name from the great Kayan river which empties into the sea on the East coast. If a river that is new to them be visited, the spirits of that stream must be always propitiated lest they resent the intrusion and drown the visitor. It is the custom among the Bukits, one of the most primitive tribes, for the youths, when they reach the bank of a new river, to divest themselves of every article of clothing, save a chaplet of leaves, which they twist from the vines near at hand; then crouching at the edge of the water, they toss some personal ornament, such as a brass ear-ring or a bright bead, far out into mid-stream, and at the same instant scoop up a handful of the water; gazing earnestly into the few drops which they hold in their palm, they invoke the spirits of the river to protect them, and implore permission to enter the new territory. Not until this rite is completed would they dare to bathe in the stream. [Illustration: A SCENE ON THE DAPOI RIVER.] To revert to the subject of names; from all that I have read, and from personal observation, it seems that all Borneans recognize the sanctity of names; of this we may find traces among all the primitive people of the earth. Before the formal ceremony of naming a child, for instance, has been performed, the child has no recognized place in the community, and a mother in enumerating her children would never think of mentioning one that had died before it was named, even though it had lived a year. Before the ceremony, the intended name is known to no one except the parents, and, for them to mention it, is strictly _permantang_ until the river water has been poured on the child's head. A Kayan will never tell you his name, but when asked he invariably turns to some one sitting near him and asks him to pronounce the name which to the owner is ineffable. For a man to mention the name of his dead father or mother is a reckless flying in the face of providence. After a serious illness the name should be changed and never uttered again, lest the evil spirits revisit their victim; under a new name they will be likely to pass him by. On one occasion, recognizing a man that I had seen on a former visit, but, at the moment forgetting his name, I enquired what it was; the name, however, struck me as entirely unfamiliar. He afterward acknowledged that he had been very sick since I last saw him and now bore a new name; only the assurance that the spirits could not harm him through a white man induced him at last to whisper to me his former name. This change of name to deceive the fates extends even to inanimate objects, and to animals which are to be caught or trapped. When hunting for camphor, the name of the object of their search must be never mentioned; it is always spoken of as "the thing that smells." Even all the instruments, which they use in collecting the valuable drug, have fanciful names, while the searchers talk in a language invented solely for those who collect camphor. Unless they conform to all these requirements, the camphor crystals, which in this particular variety are found only in the crevices of the wood, will elude them and their search be fruitless. When the people go _Tuba fishing_, which consists of poisoning the stream with the juice of the Tuba root, and thus stupefying the fish and making them rise to the surface, where they can be easily caught in nets or speared, they never say that they are going after fish, but after the leaves which float down stream. These and many other customs relative to the naming of things are all founded on the same idea of the potency and mysticism inherent in a name, which may be found in the legends of the old Egyptians, wherein the power of the great king and god _Ra_ depended on the fact that no one knew his real name, until Isis by stratagem got it from him; and forthwith his power left him. It was this same idea that prevented the Hebrew from ever speaking the name of the Most High; it is probably the same thought which prompts the Japanese to change a person's name after death lest by mentioning the one known during life the spirit of the dead should be recalled from the other world. The downfall of the god _Ra_ brings to mind another superstition of which I have noticed a remnant among the Borneans also, the power of working charms with the saliva. When the great god Ra became so old that he no longer had control of his lower jaw, Isis collected some of his saliva which dropped upon the ground below his throne, and mixing it with clay, made a snake of it. (I quote from the "Turin Papyrus," of which Mr. EDWARD CLODD gives a translation in his recent and valuable little book called "Tom Tit Tot.") This snake Isis left in Ra's path; as he passed by, it bit him, and to relieve him of his agony Isis persuaded him that the only thing to be done was to tell her his true name that she might drive out the pain from his bones. This he finally did, and with disastrous results. I instance this to show the antiquity of the superstition that the saliva is potent as an ingredient of charms; the Kayans illustrate this, in the manner whereby they elude an evil spirit which may have been following them on a journey on the river. They build a small archway of boughs on the bank just before they arrive at their destination. Underneath this arch, they build a fire and, in single file, all pass under, stepping over the fire and spitting into it as they pass; by this act they thoroughly exorcise the evil spirits and emerge on the other side free from all baleful influence. Another instance, is where they are throwing aside the signs of mourning for the dead; during the period of mourning they may not cut their hair nor shave their temples, but as soon as the mourning is ended by the ceremony of bringing home a newly-taken head, the barber's knife is kept busy enough. As every man leaves the barber's hands, he gathers up the hair, and, spitting on it, murmurs a prayer to the evil spirits not to harm him. He then blows the hair out of the verandah of the house. All these parallelisms, in the modes of thinking, among men in far removed quarters of the earth, do not, I think, necessarily imply that there has been a transmission of thought from one race to the other, but that there is a certain round of thought through which the brain leads us, and in development we must all have followed along the same path. Some races have made more rapid strides than others, possibly owing to natural surroundings, and in their strides have left the others centuries behind. Almost within the memory of our grandfathers, in this country, witches were burned, and from this there is only a step back to the Dayong of Borneo. Indeed, whosoever sees these people and lives with them their everyday life, must regard them, after a not very long time, merely as backward pupils in the school of life. Let me say in conclusion, that he would have an unresponsive heart that could not feel linked in a bond of fellowship with these people, and that God has made of only one blood all nations of the earth, when he hears a Bornean mother crooning her child to sleep with words identical in sentiment with "Rock-a-bye Baby,"--what though the mother's earlobes are elongated many an inch by heavy copper rings, her arms tattooed to the elbow, and her blackened teeth filed to points. Once upon a time I heard a Kayan mother soothing her little baby to sleep, and the words of the lullaby which I learned are as follows:-- From the River's mouth the birds are straying, And the Baiyo's topmost leaves are swaying; The little chicks cheep, Now my little one sleep, For the black house-lizard, with glittering eye, And the gray-haired Laki Laieng are nigh! Sleep, dear little one, sleep! For those philologically inclined I append the original:-- Lung koh madang Manoh Migieong ujong Baiyo Mensip anak Yap Lamate Telyap, Telyap abing, Lamate Laki Laieng oban! Ara we we ara! FOOTNOTE: [1] "Forests of the Far East," vol. i, p. 213. 
21238	----	The Castaways By Captain Mayne Reid ________________________________________________________________________ This is certainly not a very long book, being about a half to a third of most books of this genre. It starts off with a group of people in a ship's boat, the ship itself having foundered in a typhoon in the Celebes sea. The ship's captain and his two children, the Irish ship's carpenter, and the Malay pilot, are all that finally come to shore, though when the book starts there are a body that has to be thrown overboard, and a seaman who has gone mad and who throws himself there. Thereafter we are introduced to one natural history topic per chapter, be it a plant, a tree or an animal. There are various perils that have to be overcome--the upas tree, an ourang-outang, a tree that drops its fruit like a heavy bomb, a python, and quite a few more. Luckily they don't meet any unfriendly Dyaks during the journey they undertake to get from their landing-place to the town of Bruni, many hundreds of miles away. On the whole they are saved by the courage, knowledge and skill of the co-hero, the Malay pilot, who is one of the best in that region with a blow-pipe. He makes himself one, and it is just as well he did, as you will see. The book is well-written, and as it will only take you five hours or less, you could probably find the time to read it. NH ________________________________________________________________________ THE CASTAWAYS BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID CHAPTER ONE. A CASTAWAY CREW. A boat upon the open sea--no land in sight! It is an open boat, the size and form showing it to be the pinnace of a merchant-ship. It is a tropical sea, with a fiery sun overhead, slowly coursing through a sky of brilliant azure. The boat has neither sail nor mast. There are oars, but no one is using them. They lie athwart the tholes, their blades dipping in the water, with no hand upon the grasp. And yet the boat is not empty. Seven human forms are seen within it,-- six of them living, and one dead. Of the living, four are full-grown men; three of them white, the fourth of an umber-brown, or _bistre_ colour. One of the white men is tall, dark and bearded, with features bespeaking him either a European or an American, though their somewhat elongated shape and classic regularity would lead to a belief that he is the latter, and in all probability a native of New York. And so he is. The features of the white man sitting nearest to him are in strange contrast to his, as is also the colour of his hair and skin. The hair is of a carroty shade, while his complexion, originally reddish, through long exposure to a tropical sun exhibits a yellowish, freckled appearance. The countenance so marked is unmistakably of Milesian type. So it should be, as its owner is an Irishman. The third white man, of thin, lank frame, with face almost beardless, pale cadaverous cheeks, and eyes sunken in their sockets, and there rolling wildly, is one of those nondescripts who may be English, Irish, Scotch, or American. His dress betokens him to be a seaman, a common sailor. He of the brown complexion, with flat spreading nose, high cheek-bones, oblique eyes, and straight, raven black hair, is evidently a native of the East, a Malay. The two other living figures in the boat are those of a boy and girl. They are white. They differ but little in size, and but a year or two in age, the girl being fourteen and the boy about sixteen. There is also a resemblance in their features. They are brother and sister. The fourth white, who lies dead in the bottom of the boat, is also dressed in seaman's clothes, and has evidently in his lifetime been a common sailor. It is but a short time since the breath departed from his body; and judging by the appearance of the others, it may not be long before they will all follow him into another world. How weak and emaciated they appear, as if in the last stage of starvation! The boy and girl lie along the stern-sheets, with wasted arms, embracing each other. The tall man sits on one of the benches, gazing mechanically upon the corpse at his feet; while the other three also have their eyes upon it, though with very different expressions. That upon the face of the Irishman is of sadness, as if for the loss of an old shipmate; the Malay looks on with the impassive tranquillity peculiar to his race; while in the sunken orbs of the nondescript can be detected a look that speaks of a horrible craving--the craving of cannibalism. The scene described, and the circumstances which have led to it, call for explanation. It is easily given. The tall dark-bearded man is Captain Robert Redwood, the skipper of an American merchant-vessel, for some time trading among the islands of the Indian Archipelago. The Irishman is his ship-carpenter, the Malay his pilot, while the others are two common sailors of his crew. The boy and girl are his children, who, having no mother or near relatives at home, have been brought along with him on his trading voyage to the Eastern Isles. The vessel passing from Manilla, in the Philippines, to the Dutch settlement of Macassar, in the island of Celebes, has been caught in a _typhoon_ and swamped near the middle of the Celebes Sea; her crew have escaped in a boat--the pinnace--but saved from death by drowning only to find, most of them, the same watery grave after long-procrastinated suffering from thirst, from hunger, from all the agonies of starvation. One after another have they succumbed, and been thrown overboard, until the survivors are only six in number. And these are but skeletons, each looking as if another day, or even another hour, might terminate his wretched existence. It may seem strange that the youthful pair in the stern-sheets, still but tender children, and the girl more especially, should have withstood the terrible suffering beyond a period possible to many strong men, tough sailors every one of them. But it is not so strange after all, or rather after knowing that, in the struggle with starvation, youth always proves itself superior to age, and tender childhood will live on where manhood gives way to the weakness of inanition. That Captain Redwood is himself one of the strongest of the survivors may be due partly to the fact of his having a higher organism than that of his ship-comrades. But, no doubt, he is also sustained by the presence of the two children, his affection for them and fear for their fate warding off despair, and so strengthening within him the principle of vitality. If affection has aught to do with preserving life, it is strong enough in the Irishman to account also for the preservation of his; for although but the carpenter in Captain Redwood's ship, he regards the captain with a feeling almost fraternal. He had been one of his oldest and steadiest hands, and long service has led to a fast friendship between him and his old skipper. On the part of the Irishman, this feeling is extended to the youthful couple who recline, with clasped hands, along the sternmost seat of the pinnace. As for the Malay, thirst and hunger have also made their marks upon him; but not as with those of Occidental race. It may be that his bronze skin does not show so plainly the pallor of suffering; but, at all events, he still looks lithe and life-like, supple and sinewy, as if he could yet take a spell at the oar, and keep alive as long as skin and bone held together. If all are destined to die in that open boat, he will certainly be the last. He with the hollow eyes looks as if he would be the first. Down upon this wretched group, a picture of misery itself, shines the hot sun of the tropics; around it, far as eye could reach, extends the calm sea, glassed, and glancing back his lays, as though they were reflected from a sheet of liquid fire; beneath them gleams a second firmament through the pellucid water, a sky peopled with strange forms that are not birds: more like are they to dragons; for among them can be seen the horrid form of the devil-fish, and the still more hideous figure of the hammer-headed shark. And alone is that boat above them, seemingly suspended in the air, and only separated from these dreadful monsters by a few feet of clear water, through which they can dart with the speed of electricity. Alone, with no land in sight, no ship or sail, no other boat--nothing that can give them a hope. All bright above, around, and beneath; but within their hearts only darkness and the dread of death! CHAPTER TWO. THE HAMMER-HEAD. For some time the castaways had been seated in moody silence, now and then glancing at the corpse in the bottom of the boat, some of them no doubt thinking how long it might be before they themselves would occupy the same situation. But now and then, also, their looks were turned upon one another, not hopefully, but with a mechanical effort of despair. In one of these occasional glances, Captain Redwood noticed the unnatural glare in the eyes of the surviving sailor, as also did the Irishman. Simultaneously were both struck with it, and a significant look was exchanged between them. For a period of over twenty hours this man had been behaving oddly; and they had conceived something more than a suspicion of his insanity. The death of the sailor lying at the bottom of the boat, now the ninth, had rendered him for a time more tranquil, and he sat quiet on his seat, with elbows resting on his knees, his cheeks held between the palms of his hands. But the wild stare in his eyes seemed to have become only more intensified as he kept them fixed upon the corpse of his comrade. It was a look worse than wild; it had in it the expression of _craving_. On perceiving it, and after a moment spent in reflection, the captain made a sign to the ship-carpenter, at the same time saying,-- "Murtagh, it's no use our keeping the body any longer in the boat. Let us give it such burial as the sea vouchsafes to a sailor,--and a true one he was." He spoke these words quietly, and in a low tone, as if not intending them to be heard by the suspected maniac. "A thrue sailor!" rejoined the Irishman. "Truth ye're roight there, captin. Och, now! to think he's the ninth of them we've throwed overboard, all the crew of the owld ship, exceptin' our three selves, widout countin' the Malay an' the childer. If it wasn't that yer honour's still left, I'd say the best goes first; for the nigger there looks as if he'd last out the whole lot of--" The captain, to whom this imprudent speech was torture, with a gesture brought it to an abrupt termination. He was in fear of its effect not on the Malay, but on the insane sailor. The latter, however, showed no sign of having heard or understood it; and in a whisper Murtagh received instructions how to act. "You lay hold of him by the shoulders," were the words spoken, "while I take the feet. Let us slip him quietly over without making any stir. Saloo, remain you where you are; we won't need your help." This last speech was addressed to the Malay, and in his own language, which would not be understood by any other than himself. The reason for laying the injunction upon him was, that he sat in the boat beyond the man deemed mad, and his coming across to the others might excite the latter, and bring about some vaguely dreaded crisis. The silent Malay simply nodded an assent, showing no sign that he comprehended why his assistance was not desired. For all that, he understood it, he too having observed the mental condition of the sailor. Rising silently from their seats, and advancing toward the dead body, the captain and carpenter, as agreed upon, laid hold of and raised it up in their arms. Even weak as both were, it was not much of a lift to them. It was not a corpse, only a skeleton, with the skin still adhering, and drawn tightly over the bones. Resting it upon the gunwale of the boat, they made a moment's pause, their eyes turned heavenward, as if mentally repeating a prayer. The Irishman, a devout believer in the efficacy of outward observances, with one hand detached from the corpse, made the sign of the cross. Then was the body again raised between them, held at arm's length outward, and tenderly lowered down upon the water. There was no plunge, only a tiny plashing, as if a chair, or some other piece of light wood-work, had been dropped gently upon the surface of the sea. But slight as was the sound, it produced an effect, startling as instantaneous. The sailor, whose dead comrade was thus being consigned to the deep, as it were, surreptitiously, all at once sprang to his feet, sending forth a shriek that rang far over the tranquil water. With one bound, causing the pinnace to heel fearfully over, he placed himself by the side over which the corpse had been lowered, and stood with arms upraised, as if intending to plunge after it. The sight underneath should have awed him. The dead body was slowly, gradually sinking, its garb of dark blue Guernsey shirt becoming lighter blue as it went deeper down in the cerulean water; while fast advancing to meet it, as if coming up from the darkest depths of the ocean, was a creature of monstrous shape, the very type of a monster. It was the hideous hammer-headed shark, the dreaded _zygaena_ of the Celebes Sea. With a pair of enormous eyes glaring sullenly out from two immense cheek-like protuberances, giving to its head that singular sledge-hammer appearance whence it has its name, it advanced directly toward the slow-descending corpse, itself, however, moving so rapidly that the spectators above had scarce taken in the outlines of its horrid form, when this was no longer visible. It was hidden in what appeared a shower of bluish pearls suddenly projected underneath the water, and enveloping both the dead body of the sailor and the living form of the shark. Through the dimness could be distinguished gleams of a pale phosphoric sheen like lightning flashes through a sky cloud; and soon after froth and bubbles rose effervescing upon the surface of the sea. It was a terrible spectacle, though only of an instants duration. When the subaqueous cloud cleared away, and they again looked with peering eyes down into the pellucid depths, there was nothing there, neither dead body of man, nor living form of monster. The _zygaena_ had secured its prey, and carried the skeleton corpse to some dark cavern of the deep! [Note 1.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. The hammer-headed shark, in common language, is rightly designated one of the most hideous of marine animals. We mean hideous in outward appearance, for, of course, there is much both wonderful and beautiful in its internal organisation, and in the exquisite fitness of its structure for its peculiar part in the economy of nature. In the general outline of its body, which is something like that of a cylinder, it resembles the ordinary sharks; and its distinctive feature is its head, which, on either side, expands like a double-headed hammer. The eyes are very large, and placed at each extremity. It is found in the Mediterranean Sea, as well as in the Indian Ocean, and is noted for its fierceness and voracity. CHAPTER THREE. THE ALBATROSS. Captain Redwood and the Irishman were horrified at the sight that had passed under their eyes. So, too, were the children, who had both started up from their reclining attitude, and looked over the side of the boat. Even the impassive Malay, all his life used to stirring scenes, in which blood was often shed, could not look down into those depths, disturbed by such a tragical occurrence, without having aroused within him a sensation of horror. All of them recoiled back into the boat, staggering down upon their seats. One alone remained standing, and with an expression upon his face as if he was desirous of again beholding the sight. It was not a look that betrayed pleasure, but one grim and ghastly, yet strong and steady, as if it penetrated the profoundest depths of the ocean. It was the look of the insane sailor. If his companions had still held any lingering doubts about his insanity, it was sufficient to dispel them. It was the true stare of the maniac. It was not long continued. Scarce had they resumed their seats when the man, once more elevating his arms in the air, uttered another startling shriek, if possible louder and wilder than before. He had stepped upon one of the boat seats, and stood with body bent, half leaning over the gunwale, in the attitude of a diver about to make his headlong plunge. There could be no mistaking his intention to leap overboard, for his comrades could see that his muscles were strained to the effort. All three--the captain, Murtagh, and the Malay--suddenly rose again, and leant forward to lay hold on him. They were too late. Before a finger could touch him he had made the fatal spring; and the next moment he was beneath the surface of the sea! None of them felt strong enough to leap after and try to save him. In all probability, the effort would have been idle, and worse; for the mad fancy that seemed urging him to self-destruction might still influence his mind, and carry another victim into the same vortex with himself. Restrained by this thought, they stood up in the boat, and watched for his coming up again. He did so at length, but a good distance off. A breeze had been gradually springing up, and during his dive the pinnace had made some way, by drifting before it. When his head was again seen above the curling water, he was nearly a hundred yards to windward of the boat. He was not so far off as to prevent them from reading the expression upon his face, now turned toward them. It had become changed, as if by magic. The wild look of insanity was gone, and in its place was one almost equally wild, though plainly was it an expression of fear, or indeed terror. The immersion into the cold, deep sea, had told upon his fevered brain, producing a quick reaction of reason; and his cries for help, now in piteous tones sent back to the boat, showed that he understood the peril in which he had placed himself. They were not unheeded. Murtagh and the Malay rushed, or rather tottered, to the oars; while the captain threw himself into the stern, and took hold of the tiller-ropes. In an instant the pinnace was headed round, and moving through the water in the direction of the swimmer; who, on his side, swam toward them, though evidently with feeble stroke. There seemed not much doubt of their being able to pick him up. The only danger thought of by any of them was the _zygaena_; but they hoped the shark might be still occupied with its late prey, and not seeking another victim. There might be another shark, or many more; but for some time past one only had been seen in the neighbourhood of the boat; the shark, as they supposed, which had but recently devoured the dead body of the sailor. Trusting to this conjecture, they plied the oars with all the little strength left in their arms. Still, notwithstanding their feeble efforts, and the impediment of pulling against the wind, they were nearing the unfortunate man, surely, if slowly. They had got over half the distance; less than half a cable's length was now between the boat and the struggling swimmer. Not a shark was to be seen on the water, nor beneath it--no fish of any kind--nothing whatever in the sea. Only, in the sky above, a large bird, whose long scimitar-shaped wings and grand curving beak told them what it was--an albatross. It was the great albatross of the Indian seas, with an extent of wing beyond that of the largest eagle, and almost equalling the spread of the South American condor. [Note 1.] They scarce looked at it, or even glanced above, they were looking below for the _zygaena_--scanning the surface of the water around them, or with their eyes keenly bent, endeavouring to penetrate its indigo depths in search of the monstrous form. No shark in sight. All seemed well; and despite the piteous appeals of the swimmer, now toiling with feebler stroke, and scarce having power to sustain himself they in the pinnace felt sure of being able to rescue him. Less than a quarter cable's length lay between. The boat, urged on by the oars, was still lessening the distance. Five minutes more, and they would be close to their comrade, and lift him over the gunwale. Still no _zygaena_ in sight--no shark of any kind. "Poor fellow! he seems quite cured; we shall be able to save him." It was Captain Redwood who thus spoke. The Irishman was about making a little hopeful rejoinder, when his speech was cut short by a cry from Saloo, who had suspended his stroke, as if paralysed by some sudden despair. The Malay, who, as well as Murtagh, had been sitting with his back toward the swimmer, had slewed himself round with a quick jerk, that told of some surprise. The movement was caused by a shadow flitting over the boat; something was passing rapidly through the air above. It had caught the attention of the others, who, on hearing Saloo's cry, looked up along with him. They saw only the albatross moving athwart the sky, no longer slow sailing as before, but with the swift-cutting flight of a falcon pouncing down upon its prey. It seemed descending not in a straight line, but in an acute parabolic curve, like a thunderbolt or some aerolite projected toward the surface of the sea. But the bird, with a whirr like the sound of running spindles, was going in a definite direction, the point evidently aimed at being the head of the swimmer! A strange commingled shout arose over the ocean, in which several voices bore part. Surprise pealed forth from the lips of those in the boat, and terror from the throat of the struggling man, while a hoarse croak from the gullet of the albatross, followed by what appeared a mocking scream of triumph. Then quick succeeded a crashing sound, as the sharp heavy beak of the bird broke through the skull of the swimmer, striking him dead, as if by the shot of a six-pounder, and sending his lifeless body down toward the bottom of the sea! It came not up again--at all events, it was never more seen by his castaway companions; who, dropping the oars in sorrowful despair, allowed the boat to drift away from the fatal spot--in whatever direction the soft-sighing breeze might capriciously carry it. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. The albatross Is the largest of the ocean-birds. Its wings, when extended, measuring fifteen feet, and its weight sometimes exceeding twenty to twenty-four pounds. The common albatross is the _Diomedea exulans_ of naturalists. Its plumage, except a few of the wing feathers, is white; its long, hard beak, which Is very powerful, is of a pale yellow colour; and its short, webbed feet are flesh coloured. It is frequently met with in the Southern Ocean. The species mentioned in the text is the black-beaked albatross, which frequents the India waters. The albatross Is a formidable enemy to the sailor, for if one falls overboard, he will assuredly fall a victim to this powerful bird, unless rescued immediately by his comrades. Its cry has some resemblance to that of the pelican; but it will also, when excited, give rent to a noise not unlike the braying of an ass. The female makes a rude nest of earth on the sea-shore, and deposits therein her solitary egg, which is about four inches long, white, and spotted at the larger end. CHAPTER FOUR. THE CRY OF THE DUGONG. Until the day on which the ninth sailor had died of starvation, and the tenth had been struck dead by the sea-bird, the castaways had taken an occasional spell at the oars. They now no longer touched, nor thought of them. Weakness prevented them, as well as despondency. For there was no object in continuing the toil; no land in sight, and no knowledge of any being near. Should a ship chance to come their way, they were as likely to be in her track lying at rest, as if engaged in laboriously rowing. They permitted the oars, therefore, to remain motionless between the thole pins, themselves sitting listlessly on the seats, most of them with their heads bent despairingly downward. The Malay alone kept his shining black eyes on the alert, as if despair had not yet prostrated him. The long sultry day that saw the last of their two sailor comrades, at length came to a close, without any change in their melancholy situation. The fierce hot sun went down into the bosom of the sea, and was followed by the short tropic twilight. As the shades of night closed over them, the father, kneeling beside his children, sent up a prayer to Him who still held their lives in His hand; while Murtagh said the Amen; and the dark-skinned Malay, who was a Mohammedan, muttered a similar petition to Allah. It had been their custom every night and morning, since parting from the foundered ship, and during all their long-protracted perils in the pinnace. Perhaps that evening's vesper was more fervent than those preceding it; for they felt they could not last much longer, and that all of them were slowly, surely dying. This night, a thing something unusual, the sky became obscured by clouds. It might be a good omen, or a bad one. If a storm, their frail boat would run a terrible risk of being swamped; but if rain should accompany it, there might be a chance of collecting a little water upon a tarpaulin that lay at the bottom. As it turned out, no rain fell, though there arose what might be called a storm. The breeze, springing up at an early hour of the day, commenced increasing after sunset. It was the first of any consequence they had encountered since taking to the boat; and it blew right in the direction whither they intended steering. With the freshening of the wind, as it came cool upon his brow, the castaway captain seemed to become inspired with a slight hope. It was the same with Murtagh and the Malay. "If we only had a sail," muttered the captain, with a sigh. "Sail, cappen--lookee talpolin!" said Saloo, speaking in "pigeon English," and pointing to the tarpaulin in the bottom of the boat. "Why no him makee sail?" "Yis, indade; why not?" questioned the Irishman. "Comee, Multa! you help me; we step one oal--it makee mass--we lig him up little time." "All roight, Sloo," responded Murtagh, leaning over and seizing one of the oars, while the Malay lifted the tarpaulin from where it lay folded up, and commenced shaking the creases out of it. With the dexterity of a practised sailor, Murtagh soon had the oar upright, and its end "stepped," between two ribs of the boat, and firmly lashed to one of the strong planks that served as seats. Assisted by the captain himself, the tarpaulin was bent on, and with a "sheet" attached to one corner rigged sail-fashion. In an instant it caught the stiff breeze, and bellied out; when the pinnace feeling the impulse, began to move rapidly through the water, leaving in her wake a stream of sparkling phosphorescence that looked like liquid fire. They had no compass, and therefore could not tell the exact direction in which they were being carried. But a yellowish streak on the horizon, showing where the sun had set, was still lingering when the wind began to freshen, and as it was one of those steady, regular winds, that endure for hours without change, they could by this means guess at the direction--which was toward that part of the horizon where the yellowish spot had but lately faded out; in short, toward the west. Westward from the place where the cyclone had struck the ship, lay the great island of Borneo. They knew it to be the nearest land, and for this had they been directing the boat's course ever since their disaster. The tarpaulin now promised to bring them nearer to it in one night, than their oars had done with days of hopeless exertion. It was a long twelve-hour night; for under the "Line"--and they were less than three degrees from it--the days and nights are equal. But throughout all its hours, the wind continued to blow steadily from the same quarter; and the spread tarpaulin, thick and strong, caught every puff of it acting admirably. It was, in fact, as much canvas as the pinnace could well have carried on such a rough sea-breeze, and served as a storm-try sail to run her before the wind. Captain Redwood himself held charge of the tiller; and all were cheered with the fine speed they were making--their spirits rising in proportion to the distance passed over. Before daylight came to add to their cheerfulness, they must have made nearly a hundred miles; but ere the day broke, a sound fell upon their ears that caused a commotion among them--to all giving joy. It came swelling over the dark surface of the deep, louder than the rush of the water or the whistling of the wind. It resembled a human voice; and although like one speaking in agony, they heard it with joy. There was hope in the proximity of human beings, for though these might be in trouble like themselves, they could not be in so bad a state. They might be in danger from the storm; but they would be strong and healthy--not thirsting skeletons like the occupants of the pinnace. "What do you think it is, captin?" asked the Irishman. "Moight it be some ship in disthriss?" Before the captain could reply, the sound came a second time over the waters, with a prolonged wail, like the cry of a suffering sinner on his death-bed. "The _dugong_!" exclaimed Saloo, this time recognising the melancholy note, so like to the voice of a human being. "It is," rejoined Captain Redwood. "It's that, and nothing more." He said this in a despairing tone, for the dugong, which is the _manatee_, or sea-cow of the Eastern seas, could be of no service to them; on the contrary, its loud wailings spoke of danger--these being the sure precursors of a storm. [Note 1.] To him and Murtagh, the presence of this strange cetaceous animal gave no relief; and, after hearing its call, they sank back to their seats, relapsing into the state of half despondency, half hopefulness, from which it had startled them. Not so with Saloo, who better understood its habits. He knew they were amphibious, and that, where the dugong was found, land could not be a long way off. He said this, once more arousing his companions by his words to renewed expectancy. The morning soon after broke, and they beheld boldly outlined against the fast-clearing sky the blue mountains of Borneo. "Land!" was the cry that came simultaneously from their lips. "Land--thank the Lord!" continued the American skipper, in a tone of pious gratitude; and as his pinnace, still obedient to the breeze and spread tarpaulin, forged on toward it, he once more knelt down in the bottom of the boat, caused his children to do the same, and offered up a prayer--a fervent thanksgiving to the God alike of land and sea, who was about to deliver him and his from the "dangers of the deep." ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. We are unwilling to interrupt the course of our narrative by disquisitions on subjects of natural history, and, therefore, relegate to a note the following particulars about the dugong. This strange mammal belongs to a genus of the family _Manatidae_, or Herbivorous Cetacea. The species of which a member was discovered by our castaways, is the _Halicore Indicus_, or dugong of the Indian Archipelago; and, as we have said, is never found very far from land. Its dentition resembles, in some respects, that of the elephant; and from the structure of its digestible organs it can eat only vegetable food; that is, the _algae_, or weeds, growing on submarine rocks in shallow water. When it comes to the surface to breathe, it utters a peculiar cry, like the lowing of a cow. Its length, when full-grown, is said to be twenty feet, but few individuals seem to exceed twelve feet. In its general appearance it is very much like the _manatee_, or manatus, which haunts the mouths of the great South American rivers. CHAPTER FIVE. RUNNING THE BREAKERS. The Almighty Hand that had thus far helped the castaways on their course, with a favouring wind bringing them in sight of Borneo's isle, was not going to crush the sweet hopes thus raised by wrecking their boat upon its shores. And yet for a time it seemed as if this were to be their fate. As they drew near enough to the land to distinguish its configuration, they saw a white line like a snow-wreath running between it and them, for miles to right and left, far as the eye could reach. They knew it to be a barrier of coral breakers, such as usually encircle the islands of the Indian seas--strong ramparts raised by tiny insect creatures, to guard these fair gardens of God against the assaults of an ocean that, although customarily calm, is at times aroused by the _typhoon_, until it rages around them with dark scowling waves, like battalions of demons. On drawing near these reefs, Captain Redwood, with the eye of an experienced seaman, saw that while the wind kept up there was no chance for the pinnace to pass them; and to run head on to them would be simply to dash upon destruction. Sail was at once taken in, by letting go the sheet, and dropping the tarpaulin back into the bottom of the boat. The oar that had been set up as a mast was left standing, for there were five others lying idle in the pinnace; and with four of these, Saloo and Murtagh each taking a pair, the boat was manned, the captain himself keeping charge of the tiller. His object was not to approach the land, but to prevent being carried among the breakers, which, surging up snow-white, presented a perilous barrier to their advance. To keep the boat from driving on the dangerous reef, was just as much as the oarsmen could accomplish. Weakened as they were, by long suffering and starvation, they had a tough struggle to hold the pinnace as it were in _statu quo_--all the tougher from the disproportion between such a heavy craft and the light oar-stroke of which her reduced and exhausted crew were capable. But as if taking pity upon them, and in sympathy with their efforts, the sun, as he rose above the horizon, seemed to smile upon them and hush the storm into silence. The wind, that throughout the night had been whistling in their ears, all at once fell to a calm, as if commanded by the majestic orb of day; and along with the wind went down the waves, the latter subsiding more gradually. It was easier now to hold the pinnace in place, as also to row her in a direction parallel to the line of the breakers; and, after coasting for about a mile, an opening was at length observed where the dangerous reef might perhaps be penetrated with safety. Setting the boat's head toward it, the oars were once more worked with the utmost strength that remained in the arms of the rowers, while her course was directed with all the skill of which an American skipper is capable. Yet the attempt was one of exceeding peril. Though the wind had subsided, the swell was tremendous; billow after billow being carried against the coral reefs with a violence known only to the earthquake and the angry ocean. Vast volumes of water surged high on either side, projecting still higher their sparkling shafts of spray, like the pillars of a waterspout. Between them spread a narrow space of calm sea--yet only comparatively calm, for even there an ordinary boat, well managed, would be in danger of getting swamped. What then was the chance for a huge pinnace, poorly manned, and therefore sure of being badly trimmed? It looked as if after all the advantages that had arisen--that had sprung up as though providentially in their favour--Captain Redwood and the small surviving remnant of his crew were to perish among the breakers of Borneo, and be devoured by the ravenous sharks which amidst the storm-vexed reefs find their congenial home. But it was not so to be. The prayer offered up, as those snow-white but treacherous perils first hove in sight, had been heard on high; and He who had guided the castaways to the danger, stayed by their side, and gave strength to their arms to carry them through it. With a skill drawn from the combination of clear intelligence and long experience, Captain Redwood set the head of his pinnace straight for the narrow and dangerous passage; and with a strength inspired by the peril, Murtagh and the Malay pulled upon their oars, each handling his respective pair as if his life depended on the effort. With the united will of oarsmen and steerer the effort was successful; and ten seconds later the pinnace was safe inside the breakers, moving along under the impulse of two pairs of oars, that rose and fell as gently as if they were pulling her over the surface of some placid lake. In less than ten minutes her keel touched bottom on the sands of Borneo, and her crew, staggering ashore, dropped upon their knees, and in words earnest as those uttered by Columbus at Cat Island, or the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock, breathed a devout thanksgiving for their deliverance. CHAPTER SIX. A GIGANTIC OYSTER. "Water! water!" The pain of hunger is among the hardest to endure, though there is still a harder--that of thirst. In the first hours of either, it is doubtful which of the two kinds of suffering is the more severe; but, prolonged beyond a certain point, hunger loses its keenness of edge, through the sheer weakness of the sufferer, while the agony of thirst knows no such relief. Suffering, as our castaways were, from want of food for nearly a week, their thirst was yet more agonising; and after the thanksgiving prayer had passed from their lips, their first thought was of water--their cry, "Water! water!" As they arose to their feet they instinctively looked around to see if any brook or spring were near. An ocean was flowing beside them; but this was not the kind of water wanted. They had already had enough of the briny element, and did not even turn their eyes upon it. It was landward they looked; scanning the edge of the forest, that came down within a hundred yards of the shore-- the strip of sand on which they had beached their boat trending along between the woods and the tide-water as far as the eye could trace it. A short distance off, however, a break was discernible in the line of the sand-strip--which they supposed must be either a little inlet of the sea itself, or the outflow of a stream. If the latter, then were they fortunate indeed. Saloo, the most active of the party, hastened toward it; the others following him only with their eyes. They watched him with eager gaze, trembling between hope and fear-- Captain Redwood more apprehensive than the rest. He knew that in this part of the Bornean coast months often pass without a single shower of rain; and if no stream or spring should be found they would still be in danger of perishing by thirst. They saw Saloo bend by the edge of the inlet, scoop up some water in his palms, and apply it to his lips, as if tasting it. Only for an instant, when back to them came the joyful cry,-- "_Ayer! ayer manis! sungi_!" (Water! sweet water! A river!) Scarce more pleasantly, that morning at day-break, had fallen on their ears the cry of "Land!" than now fell the announcement of the Malay sailor, making known the proximity of water. Captain Redwood, who was acquainted with the Malay language, translated the welcome words. Sweet water, Saloo had described it. Emphatically might it be so termed. All hastened, or rather rushed, toward the stream, fell prostrate on their faces by its edge, and drank to a surfeit. It gave them new life; and, indeed, it had given them their lives already, though they knew it not. It was the outflow of its current into the ocean that caused the break in the coral reef through which their boat had been enabled to pass. Otherwise they might have found no opening, and perished in attempting to traverse the surging surf. The madrepores will not build their subaqueous coral walls where rivers run into the ocean; hence the open spaces here and there happily left, that form deep transverse channels admitting the largest ships. No longer suffering from thirst, its kindred appetite now returned with undivided agony, and the next thought was for something to eat. They again turned their eyes toward the forest, and up the bank of the stream that came flowing from it. But Saloo had seen something in the sea, near the spot where the pinnace had been left; and, calling upon Murtagh to get ready some dry wood and kindle a fire, he ran back toward the boat. Murtagh, the rest accompanying him, walked to the edge of the woods where the stream issued from the leafy wilderness. Just beyond the strip of sand the forest abruptly ended, the trees standing thick together, and rising like a vast vegetable wall to a height of over a hundred feet. Only a few straggled beyond this line. The very first of them, that nearest the sea, was a large elm-like tree, with tall trunk, and spreading leafy limbs that formed a screen from the sun, now well up in the sky, and every moment growing more sultry. It offered a convenient camping-place; and under its cool shadow they could recline until with restored strength they might either seek or build themselves a better habitation. An ample store of dry faggots was lying near; and Murtagh having collected them into a pile, took out his flint and steel, and commenced striking a light. Meanwhile their eyes were almost constantly turned toward Saloo, all of them wondering what had taken him back to the boat. Their wonder was not diminished when they saw him pass the place where the pinnace had been pulled up on the sand, and wade straight out into the water--as if he were going back to the breakers! Presently, after he had got about knee-deep, they saw him stoop down, until his body was nearly buried under the sea, and commence what appeared to be a struggle with some creature still concealed from their observation. Nor was their wonder any the less, when at length he rose erect again, holding in his hands what for all the world looked like a huge rock, to which a number of small shells and some sea-weed adhered. "What does the Malay crather want wid a big stone?" was the interrogatory of the astonished Irishman. "And, look, captin, it's that same he's about bringin' us. I thought it moight be some kind of shill-fish. Hungry as we are, we can't ate stones?" "Not so fast, Murtagh," said the captain, who had more carefully scrutinised the article Saloo had taken up. "It's not a stone, but what you first supposed it--a shell-fish." "That big thing a shill-fish! Arrah now, captin, aren't you jokin'?" "No, indeed. What Saloo has got in his arms, if I'm not mistaken, is an oyster." "An oysther? Two fut in length and over one in breadth. Why, it's as much as the Malay can carry. Don't yez see that he's staggerin' under it?" "Very true; but it's an oyster for all that. I'm now sure of it, as I can see its shape, and the great ribs running over it. Make haste, and get your fire kindled; for it's a sort of oyster rather too strong-flavoured to be eaten raw. Saloo evidently intends it to be roasted." Murtagh did as requested, and by the time the Malay, bearing his heavy burden, reached the tree, smoke was oozing through a stack of faggots that were soon after ablaze. "Tha, Cappen Ledwad," said the Malay, flinging his load at the captain's feet. "Tha plenty shell-fiss--makee all we big blakfass. Inside find good meat. We no need open him. Hot coalee do that." They all gathered around the huge shell, surveying it with curiosity, more especially the young people. It was that strange testaceous fish found in the Indian seas, and known to sailors as the "Singapore oyster"--of which specimens are not rare measuring a yard in length, and over eighteen inches in breadth at the widest diameter. Their curiosity, however, was soon satisfied; for with stomachs craving as theirs, they were in no very fit condition for the pursuit of conchological studies; and Saloo once more lifting the large oyster-- just as much as he could do--dropped it among the faggots, now fairly kindled into a fire. More were heaped around and over it, until it was buried in the heart of a huge pile, the sea-weeds that still clung to it crackling, and the salt water spurting and spitting, as the smoke, mingled with the bright blaze, ascended toward the overshadowing branches of the tree. In due time Saloo, who had cooked Singapore oysters before, pronounced it sufficiently roasted; when the faggots were kicked aside, and with a boat-hook, which Murtagh had brought from the pinnace, the oyster [Note 1.] was dragged out of the ashes. Almost instantly it fell open, its huge valves displaying in their concave cups enough "oyster-meat" to have afforded a supper for a party of fifteen individuals instead of five--that is, fifteen not so famished as they were. With some knives and other utensils, which the Irishman had also brought away from the boat, they seated themselves around the grand bivalve; nor did they arise from their seats until the shells were scraped clean, and hunger, that had so long tortured them, was quite banished from their thoughts. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. Strictly speaking, the Singapore oyster is a gigantic species of Clam, (_Tridacna_). CHAPTER SEVEN. A DANGEROUS LOCALITY. After their ample meal of oyster "roasted in the shell," which was a breakfast instead of a supper, they rested for the remainder of the day, and all through the following night. They required this lengthened period of repose, not because they stood in need of sleep, but from the exhaustion of weakness, consequent upon their long spell of hunger and thirst. They slept well, considering that they had no couch, nor any covering, but the tattered clothes they wore upon their bodies. But they had become accustomed to this kind of bed; as to one even less comfortable, and certainly not safer--on the hard planks of the pinnace. Nor did the cold discomfort them; for although the nights are colder on land than at sea, and in the tropics sometimes even chilly, that night was warm throughout; and nothing interfered with their slumbers except some horrid dreams, the sure sequence of suffering and perils such as they had been passing through. The morning rose bright and beautiful, as nearly all Bornean mornings do. And the castaways rose from their recumbent position, feeling wonderfully restored both in strength and spirits. Henry and Helen-- these were the names of the young people--were even cheerful, inclined to wander about and wonder at the strange objects around: the beautiful beach of silvery sand; the deep blue sea; the white breakers beyond, rising over it like along snow-wreath; the clear fresh-water stream alongside, in which they could see curious fish disporting themselves; the grand forest-trees, among them stately palms and tall lance-like bamboos;--in short, a thousand things that make tropical scenery so charming. Notwithstanding the scenic beauty, there was something needed before it could be thoroughly enjoyed, and this was breakfast. The contents of the great oyster had given full satisfaction for the time; but that was nearly twenty-four hours ago, and the appetites of all were once more keenly whetted. What was to take the edge off them? This was the question that occupied their thoughts, and the answer was not so easy. Saloo went in search of another Singapore oyster; Murtagh started along the bank of the stream, in the hope of beguiling some of the red and gold fish he saw playing "backgammon" in it, as he had seen the trout and salmon in his native Killarney; while the captain, having procured a rifle, that had been brought away in the boat, and which he well knew how to handle, wandered off into the woods. Henry and Helen remained under the tree, as their father did not think there could be any danger in leaving them alone. He was well enough acquainted with the natural history of Borneo to know that there were neither lions nor tigers in the island. Had it been on the neighbouring island of Sumatra, or some desert coast of the mainland--in Malacca, Cochin-China, or Hindustan--he might have dreaded exposing them to the attack of tigers. But as there was no danger of encountering these fierce creatures on the shores of Borneo, he told the children to stay under the tree until he and the others should return. The young people were by this time rather tired of remaining in a recumbent position. It was that to which they had been too long constrained while in the boat, and it felt irksome; moreover, the oyster, wonderfully restoring their strength, had brought back their wonted juvenile vigour, so that they felt inclined for moving about a bit. For a time they indulged this inclination by walking to and fro around the trunk of the tree. Soon, however, weariness once more came upon them, and they desired to have a seat. Squatting upon the ground is an attitude only easy to savages, and always irksome to those accustomed to habits of civilised life, and to sitting upon chairs. They looked about for something upon which they might sit but nothing appeared suitable. There were neither logs nor large stones; for the beach, as well as the adjacent shore, was composed of fine drift sand, and no trees seemed to have fallen near the spot. "I have it!" exclaimed Henry, after puzzling his brains a bit, his eye guiding him to a settlement of the difficulty. "The shells--the big oyster shells--the very things for us to sit upon, sister Nell." As he spoke, he stooped down and commenced turning over one of the shells of the immense bivalve--both of which had been hitherto lying with their concave side uppermost. It was nigh as much as the boy, still weak, could do to roll it over, though Helen, seeing the difficulty, laid hold with her little hands and assisted him. Both the huge "cockles" were speedily capsized; and their convex surfaces rising nearly a foot above the level of the ground, gave the young people an excellent opportunity of getting seated. Both sat down--each upon a shell--laughing at the odd kind of stools thus conveniently provided for them. They had not been long in their sedentary attitude, when a circumstance occurred which told them how unsafe a position they had chosen. They were conversing without fear, when Henry all at once felt something strike him on the arm, and then, with a loud crash, drop down upon the shell close under his elbow, chipping a large piece out of it. His first impression was that some one had thrown a stone at him. It had hit him on the arm, just creasing it; but on looking at the place where he had been hit, he saw that the sleeve of his jacket was split, or rather torn, from shoulder to elbow, as if a sharp-tooth curry-comb had been drawn violently along it. He felt pain, moreover, and saw blood upon his shirt underneath! He looked quickly around to ascertain who had thus rudely assailed him-- anxiously, too, for he was in some dread of seeing a savage spring from the bushes close by. On turning, he at once beheld the missile that had rent his jacket-sleeve lying on the sand beside him. It was no stone, but a round or slightly oval-shaped ball, as big as a ten-pound shot, of a deep-green colour, and covered all over with spurs like the skin of a hedgehog! He at once saw that it had not been thrown at him by any person; for, with the sharp, prickly protuberances thickly set all over it, no one could have laid hand upon it. Clearly it had fallen from the tree overhead. Helen had perceived this sooner than he; for sitting a little way off, she had seen the huge ball drop in a perpendicular direction-- though it had descended with the velocity of lightning. Beyond doubt, it was some fruit or nut, from the tree under which they were seated. From the way in which the jacket-sleeve had suffered, as well as the skin underneath--to say nothing of the piece chipped out of the shell--it was evident, that had the ponderous pericarp fallen upon Henry's skull, it would have crushed it as a bullet would the shell of an egg. Young as the two were, they were not so simple as to stay in that spot an instant longer. On the tree that could send down such a dangerous missile there might be many more--equally ready to rain upon them--and with this apprehension both sprang simultaneously to their feet, and rushed out into the open ground, not stopping till they believed themselves quite clear of the overshadowing branches that so ill protected them. They looked back at the seats they had so abruptly vacated, and the green globe lying beside them, and then up to the tree; where they could see other similar large globes, only at such a vast height looking no bigger than peaches or apricots. They did not dare to venture back to their seats, nor, although tempted by a strong curiosity to examine it, to approach the fallen fruit. In fact, the arm of Henry was badly lacerated; and his little sister, on seeing the blood upon his shirt sleeve, uttered an alarm that brought first Saloo, and then the others, affrighted to the spot. "What is it?" were the interrogations of the two white men, as they came hurrying up, while the impressive Malay put none--at once comprehending the cause of the alarm. He saw the scratched arm, and the huge green globe lying upon the ground. "_Dulion_!" he said, glancing up to the tree. "Durion!" echoed the captain, pronouncing the word properly, as translated from Saloo's pigeon English. "Yes, cappen; foolee me no think of him befole. Belly big danger. It fallee on skull, skull go clashee clashee." This was evident without Saloo's explanation. The lacerated arm and broken shell were evidences enough of the terrible effects that would have been produced had the grand pericarp in its downward descent fallen upon the heads of either of the children, and they all saw what a narrow escape Henry had of getting his "cocoa-nut" crushed or split open. CHAPTER EIGHT. SHOOTING AT FRUIT. As soon as the three men had got well up to the ground and ascertained the cause of Helen's alarm, and the damage done to Henry's jacket and skin, Murtagh was the first to make a demonstration. He did so by running in under the tree, and stooping to lay hold of the fruit that had caused the misfortune. Saloo saw him do this without giving a word of warning. He was, perhaps, a little piqued that the Irishman should make himself so conspicuous about things he could not possibly be supposed to understand, and which to the Malay himself were matters of an almost special knowledge. There was a twinkle of mischief in his eye as he contemplated the meddling of Murtagh, and waited for the _denouement_. The latter, rashly grasping the spiny fruit, did not get it six inches above the ground, before he let go again, as if it had been the hottest of hot "purtatees." "Och, and what have I done now!" he cried, "I'm jagged all over. There isn't a smooth spot upon it--not so much as a shank to take howlt of!" "You takee care, Multa," cautioned Saloo. "You lookee aloff. May be you get jagee in de skull!" Murtagh took the hint, and, giving one glance upward, ran back with a roar from under the shadow of the tree. The Malay, seemingly satisfied with his triumph, now glided underneath the durion, and keeping his eye turned upward, as if intently watching something, he struck the fruit with the piece of pointed stick which he had been using in the search after Singapore oysters, and sent it spinning out upon the open sand beach. Then following, he took out his knife, and inserting the blade among its thickly set spines, cleft it open, displaying the pulp inside. There was enough to give each person a taste of this most luscious of fruits, and make them desirous of more; even had they not been hungry. But the appetites of all were now keen, and neither the chase nor the fishery had produced a single thing to satisfy them. All three had returned empty-handed. There were many more nuts on the durion-tree. They could see scores of the prickly pericarps hanging overhead, but so high as to make the obtaining of them apparently impossible. They were as far away as the grapes from the fox of the fable. The stem of the tree rose over seventy feet before throwing out a single branch. It was smooth, moreover, offering neither knot nor excrescence for a foothold. For all this Saloo could have climbed it, had he been in proper strength and condition. But he was not so. He was still weak from the effects of his suffering at sea. Something more must be had to eat--whether game, fish or shell-fish. The one great oyster appeared to be a stray. Saloo had begun to despair of being able to find another. The fruit of the durion proved not only pleasant eating, but exceedingly nutritious. It would sustain them, could they only get enough of it. How was this to be obtained? For a time they stood considering; when Captain Redwood became impressed with an original idea. In addition to his own rifle, a large ship's musket had been put into the pinnace. He thought of chain-shot, and its effects; and it occurred to him that by this means the durions might be brought down from their lofty elevation. No sooner conceived than carried into execution. The musket was loaded with a brace of balls united by a piece of stout tarred string. A shot was fired into the tree, aimed at a place where the fruit appeared thickest. There was havoc made among the adjacent leaves; and five or six of the great pericarps came crashing to the earth. A repetition of the firing brought down nearly a dozen, enough to furnish the whole party with food for at least another twenty-four hours. Having collected the fallen pericarps, they carried them to another tree that stood near, amid whose leafy branches appeared to be no fruits either so sweet to the lips or dangerous to the skull. Thither also they transferred their quarters, along with the paraphernalia brought up from the boat, intending to make a more permanent encampment under the newly chosen tree. For the time they kindled no fire, as the weather was warm enough, and the durions did not require cooking; and while making their mid-day meal of the raw fruit, Saloo interested them by relating some particulars of the tree from which it had been obtained. We shall not follow the Malay's exact words, for, as spoken in "pigeon English," they would scarce be understood; but shall lay before our readers some account of this strange and valuable fruit-tree, culled partly from Saloo's description and partly from other sources. The durion is a forest tree of the loftiest order, bearing resemblance to the elm, only with a smooth bark, which is also scaly. It is found growing throughout most of the islands of the Indian Archipelago; and, like the mangosteen, does not thrive well in any other part of the world. This is perhaps the reason its fruit is so little known elsewhere, as when ripe it will not bear transportation to a great distance. The fruit is nearly globe-shaped, though a little oval, and in size equals the largest cocoa-nut. As the reader already knows, it is of a green colour, and covered with short stout spines, very sharp-pointed, whose bases touch each other, and are consequently somewhat hexagonal in shape. With this _chevaux-de-frise_ it is so completely armed, that when the stalk is broken close off it is impossible to take up the fruit without having one's fingers badly pricked. The outer rind is so tough and strong, that no matter from what height the fruit falls it is never crushed or broken. From the base of the fruit to its apex, five faint lines may be traced running among the spines. These form the divisions of the carpels where the fruit can be cut open with a sharp knife, though requiring a considerable exertion of strength. The five cells found within are of a silken white colour, each filled with an oval-shaped mass of cream-coloured pulp containing several seeds of the size of chestnuts. The pulp forms the edible portion of the fruit, and its consistence and flavour are both difficult to be described. Mr Wallace, the celebrated hunter naturalist, thus quaintly describes it:-- "A rich, butter-like custard, highly flavoured with almonds, gives the best general idea of it; but intermingled with it come wafts of flavour that call to mind cream-cheese, onion-sauce, brown-sherry, and other incongruities. Then there is a rich glutinous smoothness in the pulp, which nothing else possesses, but which adds to its delicacy. It is neither acid, nor sweet, nor juicy; yet one feels the want of none of these qualities, for it is perfect as it is. It produces no nausea, or other bad effects; and the more you eat of it the less you feel inclined to stop. In fact, to eat durions is a new sensation, worth a voyage to the East to experience. When the fruit is ripe it falls of itself; and the only way to eat durions to perfection is to get them as they fall, and the smell is then less overpowering. When unripe, it makes a very good vegetable if cooked, and it is also eaten by the Dyaks raw. In a good fruit season large quantities are preserved salted, in jars and bamboos, and kept the year round, when it acquires a most disgusting odour to Europeans, but the Dyaks appreciate it highly as a relish with their rice. There are in the forest two varieties of wild durions with much smaller fruits, one of them orange-coloured inside. It would not perhaps be correct to say that the durion is the best of all fruits, because it cannot supply the place of a sub-acid juicy kind; such as the orange, grape, mango, and mangosteen, whose refreshing and cooling qualities are so wholesome and grateful; but as producing a food of the most exquisite flavour, it is unsurpassed. If I had to fix on two only as representing the perfection of the two classes, I should certainly choose the durion and the orange as the king and queen of fruits. "The durion is however sometimes dangerous. When the fruit begins to ripen it falls daily and almost hourly, and accidents not unfrequently happen to persons walking or working under the trees. When the durion strikes a man in its fall it produces a dreadful wound, the strong spines tearing open the flesh, whilst the blow itself is very heavy; but from this very circumstance death rarely ensues, the copious effusion of blood preventing the inflammation which might otherwise take place. A Dyak chief informed me that he had been struck by a durion falling on his head, which he thought would certainly have caused his death, yet he recovered in a very short time." Both the natives of the Malayan Archipelago and strangers residing there regard the durion as superior to all other kinds of fruit--in short, the finest in the world. The old traveller, Luischott, writing of it as early as 1599, says that in flavour it surpasses all other fruits. While another old traveller, Doctor Paludanus, thus speaks of it: "This fruit is of a hot and humid nature. To those not used to it, it seems at first to smell like rotten onions, but immediately they have tasted it they prefer it to all other food. The natives give it honourable titles, exalt it, and make verses on it." [Note 1.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. To these particulars we may add that the durion (_Durio zibethinus_) belongs to the natural family of _Sterculiaceae_, of the same sub-order (_Bombaceae_) as the silk-cotton tree. It grows to a great stature; its leaves are like those of the cherry, and its pale yellow flowers hang in large bunches. Each tree yields about two hundred fruit in a year. The fruit contains ten to twelve seeds, as large as pigeons' eggs, and these, when roasted, are as good as, and taste very much like, roasted chestnuts. CHAPTER NINE. GAGGING A GAVIAL. After finishing their dinner of durions, the three men again sallied forth, to see whether something more substantial could be found for a later repast--either flesh, fowl, or fish. As before, they went in different directions--Captain Redwood into the forest, Murtagh up the stream, and Saloo along the sea-beach, where he waded out into the water, still in the hope of picking up another large oyster. He took with him a stalk of bamboo, pointed at one end, to be used as a probe in the soft bottom in case any oysters might be lying _perdu_ beneath the sand. Henry and Helen were again left to themselves, but this time they were not to remain seated under any tree--at least, not all the time. The father, before leaving, had enjoined upon both of them to take a bath; ablution having become very necessary on account of their having been so long cribbed up in the somewhat dirty pinnace. It would be also of service in promoting their restoration to health and strength. They went into the water, not together, but at some distance apart--Henry choosing to go down to the sea, while Helen entered the stream close by, as it had clear water with a smooth, sandy bed; besides, she thought it was safer, being free from surf or currents. It was only safer in appearance, as the sequel proved; for the hunters and fisherman had scarce scattered off out of hearing, when a cry broke upon the still air of noon that startled the bright-winged birds of the Bornean forest, and stopped their songs as quickly as would have done a shot from Captain Redwood's rifle. It was heard by the captain himself, strolling among the tree trunks, and looking aloft for game; by Murtagh on the river bank, endeavouring to beguile the sly fish to his baited hook; by Saloo, wading knee-deep in search of Singapore oysters; and by Henry swimming about upon the buoyant incoming tide. More distinctly than all the rest, the little Helen heard it--since it was she who gave it utterance. It was a cry of distress, and brought all the others together, and running toward the point whence it came. There was no difficulty about their knowing the direction, for one and all recognised Helen's voice, and knew where she had been left. In less than sixty seconds' time they stood together upon the bank of the stream, on the same spot from which they had parted; and there beheld a spectacle that thrilled them with fear, and filled them with horror. The girl, finding it not deep enough by the edge of the stream--at this point nearly a hundred yards in width--had waded midway across, where it came quite up to her neck; and there she stood, her head alone showing above the surface. Beyond her, and coming from the opposite side, showed another head, so hideous it was no wonder that, on first perceiving it, she had given way to affright, and voice to her terror. It was the head of an enormous reptile, of lizard shape, that had crawled out from a reedy covert on the opposite side of the river, and having silently let itself down into the water, was now swimming toward the terrified bather. There could be no mistaking the monster's intent, for it was coming straight toward its victim. "_A gavial_!" cried Saloo, as his eyes rested on the body of the huge saurian, full twenty feet in length, with its head over a yard long, and jaws nearly the same, the upper one surmounted by a long knob-like protuberance, that distinguishes it from all other reptiles. "A gavial!" echoed the others, though not inquiringly; for they knew too well both the shape and character of the creature that was crossing the river. As all four first reached the bank--arriving nearly at the same instant of time--there were about twenty yards between the hideous saurian and her who seemed destined to destruction. On first perceiving her danger, the girl had made a few plunges to get back to the bank; but, hindered by the depth to which she had unwarily waded, and overcome by terror, she had desisted from the attempt; and now stood neck-deep, giving utterance to cries of despair. What was to be done? In less than a minute more the jaws of the saurian would close upon her crashing her fair, tender form between its teeth as though she were only some ordinary prey--a fish, or the stem of some succulent water-plant! Her father stood on the bank a very picture of distress. Of what use the rifle held half-raised in his hands? Its bullet, not bigger than a pea, would strike upon the skull of such a huge creature harmlessly, as a drop of hail or rain. Even could he strike it in the eye--surging through the water as it was, a thing so uncertain--that would not hinder it from the intent so near to accomplishment. The Irishman, with only fish-hooks in his hand, felt equally impotent; and what could the boy Henry do, not only unarmed but undressed--in short, just as he had been bathing--_in puris naturalibus_! All three were willing to rush into the water, and getting between the reptile and its victim, confront the fierce creature, even to their own certain sacrifice. And this, one, or other, or all of them, would have done, had they not been prevented by Saloo. With a loud shout the Malay, hitherto apparently impassive, called upon them to hold back. They obeyed, seeing that he intended to act, and had already taken his measures for rescuing the girl. They could not tell what these were, and only guessed at them by what they saw in his hands. It was nothing that could be called a weapon--only a piece of bamboo, pointed at one end, which he had taken from among the embers of last night's fire and sharpened with his knife, when he went off in search of the Singapore oysters. It was the same stick he had been using to probe for them under the sand. On seeing the gavial as it started toward the girl, he had quickly drawn out his knife, and sharpened the other end of the stake while coming across the beach. With this sorry apology for a weapon, and while they were still wondering, he dashed into the stream; and almost before any of the others had recovered from their first surprise, they saw him plunge past the spot where stood the affrighted girl. In another instant his black head, with the long dark hair trailing behind it, appeared in close juxtaposition to the opened jaws of the reptile. Then the head was seen suddenly to duck beneath the surface, while at the same time a brown-skinned arm and hand rose above it with a pointed stake in its grasp--like the emblematic representation seen upon some ancient crest. Then was seen an adroit turning of the stick, so quick as to be scarce perceptible--immediately followed by a backward spring upon the part of the lizard, with a series of writhings and contortions, in which both its body and tail took part, till the water around it was lashed into foam. In the midst of this commotion, the head of the Malay once more appeared above the surface, close to that of the girl; who, under the guidance of her strangely-skilled and truly courageous rescuer, was conducted to the bank, and delivered safe into her father's arms; stretched open to embrace her. It was some time, however, before the stream recovered its wonted tranquillity. For nearly half an hour the struggles of the great saurian continued, its tail lashing the water into foam, as through its gagged jaws a stream rushed constantly down its throat, causing suffocation. But, in spite of its amphibious nature, drowning was inevitable; and soon after became an accomplished fact--the huge reptilian carcass drifting down stream, towards the all-absorbing ocean, to become food for sharks, or some other marine monster more hideous and ravenous than itself. If, indeed, a more hideous and ravenous monster is to be found! It is sometimes called the Gangetic crocodile, but it is even uglier than either crocodile or alligator, and differs from both in several important particulars. As, for instance, in its mouth--its jaws being curiously straight, long, and narrow; and in the shape of its head, which has straight perpendicular sides, and a quadrilateral upper surface. It has double, or nearly double, the number [Note 1.] of the teeth of the crocodile of the Nile, though the latter is well enough supplied with these potent implements of destruction! It is an amphibious animal, and fond of the water, in which its webbed hind feet enable it to move with considerable celerity. The huge reptile which threatened Helen's safety was twenty feet in length, but the gavial sometimes attains the extraordinary dimensions of eight to nine yards. Sincere was the gratitude of Captain Redwood for the address and courage displayed by the Malay in rescuing his daughter, and his regret was great that he had no means of rewarding his faithful follower. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. As many as one hundred and twenty. CHAPTER TEN. BURROWING BIRDS. The fruit diet, however delicious, was not strengthening. Saloo said so, and Murtagh agreed with him. The Irishman declared he would rather have a meal of plain "purtatees and buttermilk," though a bit of bacon, or even ship's "junk," would be more desirable. All agreed that a morsel of meat--whether salted or fresh--would be highly beneficial; indeed, almost necessary to the complete restoration of their strength. How was animal food to be procured? The forest, so far as Captain Redwood had explored it, seemed altogether untenanted by living creature. He had now been tramping for upwards of an hour among the trees without seeing either bird or quadruped. And although there were fish in the stream, and should have been shell-fish along the sea-beach, neither Murtagh nor Saloo had succeeded in procuring any. A keen craving for animal food had grown upon them, and they were not without some regretful thoughts at having permitted the dead gavial to drift out to sea. Even from the carcass of the saurian they might have obtained steaks that, if not very dainty or delicate, would at least have been eatable. Discouraged by their want of success, and still feeling feeble, they did not go out again that day, but remained resting under the tree. While they were munching their evening meal--of durions, as the dinner had been--the Malay commenced discoursing upon eggs, which set them all thinking about them. If they only had a few, it would be just the very thing to nourish and give them strength. But where were the eggs to be obtained? This was the question asked him by the Irishman, who could at that moment have eaten a dozen, boiled, fried, poached, in omelette, or even, as he said himself, have "sucked" them. "Iggs indade!" he exclaimed, as Saloo made mention of the article; "I'd loike to see one, an could ate a basketful of them, if they were as big as swans'. What puts iggs in your head, nigger?" "Eggs no long way off," rejoined the Malay. "Plenty egg if we knowee whale find 'em." "How do you know that? Ye're ravin', Saloo." "No lavin, Multa. You heal lass night the malee? All night longee he cly wail." "Hear the malee. What's that?" "Biggee fowl like tulkey. Saloo heal him. Make moan likee man go die." "Och, thair was that, thrue enough. I heerd something scramin' all the night. I thought it might be a banshee, if thair is that crayther in this counthry. A bird, you say? What of that? Its squalling won't give us any iggs, nor lade to its nest nayther." "Ness not belly fal way. Malee make ness in sand close to sea-shole. Mollow mornin' I go lookee, maybe findee." All throughout the previous night they had heard a voice resounding along the shore in loud, plaintive wailings, and Captain Redwood had remarked its being a strange note to him, never having heard the like before. He believed the cries to come from some species of sea-fowl that frequented the coast, but did not think of the probability of their nests being close at hand. As day broke he had looked out for them in hopes of getting a shot. Even had they been gulls, he would have been glad of one or two for breakfast. But there were no birds in sight, not even gulls. Saloo now told them that the screams heard during the night did not come from sea-fowl, but from birds of a very different kind, that had their home in the forest, and only came to the sea-coast during their season of breeding; that their presence was for this purpose, and therefore denoted the proximity of their nests. While they were yet speaking on the subject, their eyes were suddenly attracted to a number of the very birds about which they were in converse. There was quite a flock of them--nearly fifty in all. They were not roosted upon the trees, nor flying through the air, but stepping along the sandy beach with a sedate yet stately tread, just like barn-door fowl on their march toward a field of freshly-sown grain, here and there stooping to pick up some stray seed. They were about the size of Cochin-Chinas, and from their flecked plumage of glossy black and rose-tinted white colour, as well as from having a combed or helmeted head, and carrying their tails upright, they bore a very striking resemblance to a flock of common hens. They, in fact, belonged to an order of birds closely allied to the gallinaceous tribe, and representing it on the continent of Australia as also in several of the Austro-Malayan islands, where the true gallinaceae do not exist. There are several distinct species of them; some, as the _tallegalla_ or "brush turkey" of Australia, approaching in form and general appearance to the turkey, while others resemble the common fowl, and still others might be regarded as a species of pheasant. They have the singular habit of depositing their eggs in mounds of rubbish, which they scrape together for this purpose, and then leave them to what might appear a sort of spontaneous incubation. Hence they are usually called "mound-builders," though they do not all adhere to the habit; some of them choosing a very different though somewhat analogous mode of getting their eggs hatched. Naturalists have given them the name of _megapoda_, on account of their very large feet, which, provided with long curved claws, enable them to scratch the ground deeply and rake together the rubbish into heaps for the safe deposit of their eggs. Sometimes these megapodes, as the Australians call them, for they are as common in Australia as Borneo, raise heaps of fifteen feet in height, and not less than sixty feet in circumference at the base. They are large and heavy birds, unwieldy in their motions, slow and lumbering in their flight. Their legs are thick, and their toes are also thick and long. There is some difference between their nest-building ways and those of the tallegalla; yet, on the whole, the similarity is very striking, as may be seen from the following account. Tracing a circle of considerable radius, says Mr Wood, the birds begin to travel round it, continually grasping with their large feet the leaves, and grasses, and dead twigs which are lying about, and flinging them inwards towards the centre. Each time they finish their rounds they narrow their circle, so that they soon clear away a large circular belt, having in its centre a low, irregular heap. By repeating the operation they decrease the _diameter_ of the mound while increasing its _height_, until at length a large and rudely conical mound is formed. Next they scrape out a cavity of about four feet in the middle of the heap, and here deposit the eggs, which are afterwards covered up, to be hatched by the combined effects of fermentation and the sun. But the bird does not thus escape any of the cares of maternity, for the male watches the eggs carefully, being endowed with a wonderful instinct which tells him the temperature suitable for them. Sometimes he covers them thickly with leaves, and sometimes lays them nearly bare, repeating these operations frequently in the course of a single day. The eggs at last are hatched, but when the young bird escapes from the shell it does not leave the mound, remaining therein for at least twelve hours. Even after a stroll in the open air it withdraws to its mound toward evening, and is covered up, like the egg, only not to so great a depth. It is a singular fact that in all cases a nearly cylindrical hole, or shaft, is preserved in the centre of the heap, obviously intended to admit the cooling air from without, and to allow of the escape of the gases fermenting within. In each nest as much as a bushel of eggs is frequently deposited. As these are of excellent flavour, they are quite as much esteemed by the white man as by the aborigine. The tallegalla has a habit of scratching large holes in the ground while dusting itself, says Mr Wood, after the manner of gallinaceous birds; and these holes often serve to guide the egg-hunter towards the nest itself. After this digression let us return to the megapodes of Borneo, whose appearance had strongly excited the curiosity of Captain Redwood and his party. The birds that had now displayed themselves to the eyes of our party of castaways were of the species known as "maleos," by Saloo called malee. They had not just then alighted, but came suddenly into view around the spur of a "dune," or sand-hill, which up to that moment had hindered them from being observed. As the spectators were quietly reclining under the obscure shadow of the tree, the birds did not notice them, but stalked along the shore about their own business. What this business was soon became apparent; for although one or another of the birds made occasional stop to pick up some worm, weed, or seed, it was evident they were not making their evening promenade in search of food. Now and again one would dart quickly away from the flock, running with the swiftness of a pheasant, then suddenly stop, survey the ground in every direction, as if submitting it to examination, and finally, with a cackling note, summon the others to its side. After this a general cackle would spring up, as if they were engaged in some consultation that equally regarded the welfare of all. It was noticed that those taking the initiative in these prospecting rushes and summonings, differed a little from the others. The casque or bonnet-shaped protuberance at the back of their heads was larger, as were also the tubercles at their nostrils; the red upon their naked cheeks was of brighter and deeper hue; while their plumage was gayer and more glossy, the rufous-white portion of it being of a more pronounced rose or salmon colour. These were the male birds or "cocks" of the flock, though the difference between them and the hens was much less than that between chanticleer and the ladies of his barn-yard harem, and only noticeable when they drew very near to the spectators. They were still two hundred yards from the spot where the latter lay watching them, and by the direction in which they were going it was not likely they would come any nearer. Captain Redwood had taken hold of the musket, intending to load it with some slugs he chanced to have, and try a long shot into the middle of the flock; but Saloo restrained him with a word or two spoken in a whisper. They were,-- "Don't try shot, cappen. Too long way off. You miss all. Maybe they go lookee place for billy eggs. Much betta we waitee while." Thus cautioned, the captain laid aside the gun, while they all remained silently watching the maleos, which continued their course, with its various divergences, still unconscious of being observed. When they were nearly in front of the camping-place, at a spot where the sand lay loose and dry, above the reach of the ordinary tidal influx, all made a stop at the summons of one who, from the superior style of his plumage and the greater grandeur of his strut, appeared a very important individual of the tribe--in all likelihood the "cock of the walk." Here a much longer period was spent in the cackling consultation, which at length came to an end, not as before in their passing on to another place, but by the whole flock setting to, and with their great clawed feet scratching up the sand, which they scattered in clouds and showers all around them. For a time they were scarce visible, the sand dust flying in every direction, and concealing the greater portion of them beneath its dun cloud; and this sort of play was continued for nearly half an hour. It was not intended for play, however, for when it at length came to a termination the spectators under the tree could perceive that a large cavity had been hollowed out in the sand, of such extent, as to diameter and depth, that more than half the flock, when within its circumference, were invisible from their point of observation. From that moment it could be noted that several birds were always down in the pit thus excavated, some going in, others coming out, as if taking their turn in the performance of a common duty; and it was further noticed that the ones so occupied were those of less conspicuous plumage--in fact the hens; while the cocks strutted around, with their tails elevated high in the air, and with all the pride and importance usually assumed by masters of a grand ceremonial. For another hour this singular scene was kept up, Saloo hindering his companions from making any movement to interrupt it, by promising them a great reward for non-interference. The scene at length terminated in another grand scraping match, by which the sand was flung back into the pit with the accompanying storm of dust, and then emerging from the cloud there commenced a general stampede of the megapodes, the birds separating into parties of two and three, and going in different directions. They rushed away at lightning speed, some along the smooth sand beach, while others rose right up into the air, and on loud whirring wings flew off into the forest. "Now!" said Saloo, with joy gleaming in his dark, Oriental eyes. "Now we getee pay for patient waitee--we hab egg--better than dulion--belly bess solt of egg malee." As there was no need for further concealment or caution, all started to their feet and hastened out to the spot where the departed fowls had been at work. There was no longer any signs of a hollow, but a level surface corresponding with that around, and but for the fresh look of the recently disturbed sand, and the scoring that told of claws having disturbed it, no one could have thought that a flock of birds resembling barn-door fowl had just made such a large cavity in the ground, and then filled it up again. Saloo and Murtagh ran down to the pinnace, and each brought back an oar. With these used as shovels, the loose sand was once more removed, and nearly three dozen large eggs of a reddish or brick colour were exposed to view, lying in a sort of irregular stratification. They were of the usual ovoid form, smaller at one end than the other, though but slightly elongated. What was most notable was their immense size, considering the bulk of the birds that voided them; for while the latter were not larger than common hens, the eggs were as big as those of a goose. The contents of one which Murtagh, in his careless Hibernian way, accidentally broke--and which were caught in a tin pannikin that held as much as a good-sized breakfast cup--filled the pannikin to its brim. It was quite a seasonable supply. These fine eggs proved not inferior to those of the common hen; indeed they were thought superior, and in flavour more like the eggs of a guinea-fowl or turkey. About a dozen of them were cooked for breakfast, and in more ways than one. Some were boiled, one of the half shells of the same Singapore oyster serving for a saucepan; while in the other, used as a frying-pan, an immense omelette was frittered to perfection. It was quite a change from the fruit diet of the durion, reversing our present as well as the old Roman fashion of eating, though not contrary to the custom of some modern nations--the Spaniards, for example. Instead of being _ab ovo ad malum_, it was _ab malo ad ovum_. [Note 2.] ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Note 1. The Banshee, or Benshie, sometimes called the Shrieking Woman, is an imaginary being, supposed by the Irish to predict, by her shrieks and wails, the death of some member in the family over which she exercises a kind of supervision. To this fable Moore alludes in one of his songs-- "How oft has the Benshee cried." Note 2. The Romans began their noonday meal with eggs, and ended with a dessert; _ab ovo ad malum_. CHAPTER ELEVEN. THE LANOONS. Certainly the most nutritious of all things eatable or drinkable is the substance, or fluid, called milk. It becomes blood almost immediately, and then flesh, or muscle, as was designed by the Creator. Hence it is the first food given to all animated creatures--not alone to the _mammalia_, but to the oviparous animals--even to the infantile forms of the vegetable itself. To the first it is presented in the form of simple milk, or "lacteal fluid;" to the second in the "white" of the egg; while the young tree or plant, springing from its embryo, finds it in the farina, or succulent matter, with which it is surrounded, and in which it has hitherto lain embedded and apparently lifeless, till the nursing sun calls it into a growing existence. It is albumen, gluten, and other substances combined, all existing in the udder, in the egg-shell, in the seed, root, or fruit; from which springs the progeny, whether it be man or beast, flying bird or swimming fish, creeping reptile or fast-rooted forest tree. The meal of oyster-meat had restored to healthy action the long-fasting stomachs of the castaways; the durion fruit, coming like a _dessert_, had no doubt acted with an exceedingly beneficial effect; but not till they had partaken of the true "staff of life"--represented in one of its elementary forms, the egg--did they feel their blood running in its right channels, alike restoring their vigour and strength. Murtagh was one of the first to feel revivified, and declare himself ready for anything. But they were all much invigorated, and began to think and talk of plans for the future. The question, of course, was, how they should quit the shore on which shipwreck, and afterwards a chance wind, had cast them? So far the coast appeared to be uninhabited, and although not so very inhospitable, as their experience had proved, still it would never do for them to remain there. The American merchant-skipper had no ambition to match the Scotchman Selkirk, and make a second Crusoe of himself. Neither would Murtagh or the Malay have cared to act as his man Friday for any very prolonged period of hermitage, so long as there was a mode of escaping from it. During the remainder of that evening, therefore, they talked of a change of quarters, and discussed various plans for bringing this about. It was a question whether they should take to their boat and again put out to sea, or endeavour, by an overland expedition, to reach some part of the coast where they might find a European, and therefore a civilised, settlement. Captain Redwood knew there were more than one of these on the great island of Borneo. There were the Dutch residencies of Sambas and Sarabang; the English government depot on the islet of Labuan; and the strange heterogeneous settlement--half colony, half kingdom--then acknowledging the authority of the bold British adventurer, Sir James Brooke, styled "Rajah of Sarawak." If any of these places could be attained, either coastwise or across country, our castaways might consider their sufferings at an end; and it was only a question which would be the easiest to reach, and what the best way of reaching it. After due consideration, Labuan was the point decided upon. From that part of the coast Captain Redwood supposed himself to be, it was by far the nearest civilised settlement--in fact, the only one that offered a chance of being reached by travellers circumstanced as they. Of course they had no intention to start immediately. Their strength was not sufficiently restored, and they were only discussing the question of a journey to be undertaken before long, and the probabilities of their being able to accomplish it. Although they were now safe on land, and need no longer dread the "dangers of the deep," they did not yet believe themselves delivered from all peril. The part of the coast on which they had landed appeared uninhabited; but it was not this that made them uneasy. On the contrary, human beings were the very things they did not desire just then to see. From the place where his ship had been struck by the typhoon, and the distance and direction in which they had since drifted, Captain Redwood conjectured--was indeed almost sure of it--that they were on some part of the north-eastern coast of Borneo, where it fronts the Celebes Sea; and he had traded long enough among the islands of the Malayan Archipelago to know that this was a most dangerous locality, not from beasts of prey, but fierce, predatory men; from pirates, in short. These sea-robbers, issuing from their hiding-places and strongholds among the lagoons of many of the Malayan islands--more especially Mindanao--are to be met with all through the Indian Archipelago; but their most favourite cruising-grounds are in the seas lying around the Sooloo isles, and stretching between Borneo and New Guinea. They are usually known as "Lanoons," from Illanon, the southern peninsula of Mindanao, their principal place of refuge and residence. But they have also other haunts and ports where they make rendezvous-- many on the shores of the Celebes Sea, in the island of Celebes itself, and also along the eastern and northern coast of Borneo. In this last they are usually known as "Dyak pirates," a name not very correct; since most of these freebooters are of pure Malayan race, while the Bornean Dyaks take but little part in their plundering, and are themselves often its victims. The craft in which they carry on their nefarious calling are large junk-like vessels termed "praus," with short, stumpy masts and huge square sails of woven matting stuff. But they place more dependence upon their broad paddle-bladed oars and skilled oarsmen, each prau having from thirty to forty rowers, and some very large ones a much greater number. These, seated in double rows along each side of the vessel, take no part in the fighting, which is done by the chiefs and warriors stationed above on a sort of platform or upper deck that extends nearly the whole length of the prau. The advantage derived from the oars is, that in the tropical seas very light winds and calms are of common occurrence, during either of which the prau can easily overtake an ordinary sailing-ship. And when a brisk wind arises, and it is desirable to avoid any vessel that may be endeavouring to come up with them, they can, by means of their strong rowing force, get to windward of the chasing craft, and so out of harm's way. Ships are not always the objects of their piratical cruisings, or they might at times find it but an unprofitable business. Combined with sea piracy, they make frequent land expeditions along the coasts of the different islands, going up the inlets and rivers, and plundering the towns or other settlements situated on their banks. And their booty does not always consist of goods, chattels, and money, but of men, women, and children; for they are men-robbers as well as murderers and pirates. Their captives are carried off to their places of rendezvous, and there kept until they can be sold into slavery--a market for this kind of commodity being easily found in almost every island of the Malayan Archipelago--whether it be Dutch, Spanish, Portuguese, or under the dominion of its own native rulers, the sultans and rajahs. Well aware of all these circumstances, Captain Redwood knew the danger he and his party would incur should they fall into the hands of the Lanoons. So long as they were out upon the open sea, and in fear of perishing by starvation, they had never had a thought about pirates. Then the sight of a prau--even with the certainty of its being a piratical craft--would have been welcome; since death by the Malay kris, or slavery to the most cruel taskmaster, would have been a relief from the sufferings they were enduring, from hunger as from thirst. Now, however, that these were things of the past, and they were not only safe delivered from the perils of the deep, but seemed in no farther danger of starvation, the pirates had become the subject of their gravest fears, and their eyes were habitually on the alert--now scanning the sea-shore on both sides, and now directed toward the forest, whenever any noise from that quarter occurred to excite suspicion. While in this frame of mind, the boat which had brought them safely ashore caused them a good deal of apprehension. They might themselves have easily found concealment among the trees that stood thickly on the land-side; but the large pinnace lying upon the open beach was a conspicuous object, and could be seen miles off by any one straying along the shore, or coming abruptly out of the forest. If there were any pirates' nest near, the boat would surely betray them, and the question arose as to what should be done with it. To have dragged it up the sand, and hidden it among the underwood, is probably what they would have done had they been possessed of sufficient strength. But they knew that they were not, and therefore the thing was not thought of. It was as much as they could yet do to drag their own bodies about, much less a heavy ship's boat. Murtagh suggested breaking it up, and letting the fragments float off upon the waves. But Captain Redwood did not approve of this mode. The craft that had so long carried them through an unknown sea, and at length set them safely ashore, deserved different treatment. Besides, they might again stand in need of it; for it was not yet certain whether they were on the coast of the Bornean mainland, or one of the numerous outlying islets to be found along its eastern side. If an island, the boat would still be required to carry them across to the main. While they were engaged in discussing this subject on the day they had made discovery of the maleos' eggs, Saloo's sharp eye, wandering about, caught sight of something that promised a solution of the difficulty. It was the little stream not far off, or rather, the estuary formed by its current, which, flowing out through the sands, had cut a channel deep enough for the keel of a much larger craft than a ship's pinnace. "Why we no blingee boat up libba?" he asked. "Saloo is right; it may be done," assented the captain. "Troth an' that may it. It's clivver of the nigger to be the first of us to think of that same. Then we'd betther set about it at once-- hadn't we, captin?" "By all means," was the reply; and the three men, rising to their feet, walked off toward the boat, leaving the young people under the tree. CHAPTER TWELVE. KRISSING A CONSTRICTOR. It took them nearly an hour to get the pinnace round into the stream, and opposite the place they had fixed upon for their temporary encampment. The current acting against their feeble efforts at rowing, was the cause of delay. They succeeded, however, and the boat was made safe from being observed by the eye of any one going along the beach. But, to make it still more secure, they poled it in under the branches of an over-hanging tree not far off--a large Indian fig, or _banyan_, whose umbrageous top overshadowed the water nearly half-way across the stream. To one of its numerous root-stems the craft was made fast by means of the tiller-ropes; and they were stepping out of it to return to their camping-place, when a shout from Saloo warned them of some danger ahead. It was not ahead, but _overhead_; for, as his companions looked up-- following the example of the Malay--they saw what at first appeared to be one of the stems of the banyan in motion, as if endowed with life! They were soon convinced of their mistake; for instead of the moving thing being part of the fig-tree, its supple, cylindrical body and glittering scales showed it to be a serpent. It was a python, and one of enormous dimensions, as they could tell by what they saw of it, knowing that this was only a portion of the whole; at least ten feet of it were depending from the tree, while, judging by the taper of its body, and applying the ordinary rule as to serpent shape, there could not be less than ten or twelve other feet concealed among the branches above. As Saloo first caught sight of it, it was descending from the tree, no doubt having been disturbed by the noise made in mooring the boat, and tempted to forsake its perch for some purpose unknown. It was coming down head foremost--not along any of the stems, but in an open space between them--its tail coiled round a branch above, affording it a support for this descent, monkey or 'possum-fashion. Its snout had already touched the ground, and perhaps its whole body would soon have been elongated upon the earth but for the shout of Saloo. At this it suddenly jerked up its head, but without taking in any of its coils above; and with jaws agape and tongue protruding, it commenced oscillating around as if trying its range, and ready to pounce upon any creature that came within the radius of that wide circle of which its forked tongue was describing the circumference. The warning of the Malay was given soon enough to save Captain Redwood, but not the ship-carpenter. Murtagh was either too long in hearing, or too slow in giving heed to it. He was a step or two in advance of the others, carrying in his arms some implements from the boat. In looking around and above he saw the snake sweeping about in its grand circular vibrations, and at the same time perceived that he was within their range. It was but the simple obedience of instinct to leap to one side, which he did; but as ill luck would have it, hampered by the _impedimenta_ carried in his arms, he came in violent collision with one of the stems of the banyan, which not only sent him back with a rebound, but threw him down upon the earth, flat on his face. He would have done better by lying still, for in that position the snake could not have coiled around and constricted him. And the python rarely takes to its teeth till it has tried its powers of squeezing. But the ship-carpenter, ignorant of this herpetological fact, and as an Irishman not highly gifted either with patience or prudence, after scrambling a while upon his hands and knees, stood once more upon his feet. He had scarcely got into an erect attitude when his body was embraced by a series of spiral annulations that extended from head to foot--huge thick rings, slimy and clammy to the touch, which he knew to be the foldings of the python. Had there been any Lanoons, or Dyak pirates, within a mile's distance, they might have heard the cry that escaped him. The forest birds heard it afar off, and ceased their chatterings and warblings, so that there was no sound for some time save the continuous shrieks and ejaculations that came from Murtagh's lips. Captain Redwood, altogether unarmed, leaped back into the pinnace to seize the boat-hook, thinking it the best weapon for the occasion. It might have been of service if obtainable in time. But long before he could have returned with it the ship-carpenter's ribs would have been compressed into a mass of broken bones, and the breath crushed out of his body. This would certainly have been the lamentable result but for a weapon with which a Malay is always armed, carrying it on his body nearer than his shirt, and almost as near as his skin. It was the _kris_. As a matter of course, Saloo had one, and luckily for his old shipmate, "Multa," he knew how to handle it with skill, so that, in driving its twisted blade through the python's throat, he did not also impale upon its point the jugular vein of the Irishman. He did the one dexterously without doing the other, and the consequence was that the huge snake, suffering keenly from having its throat pierced through, quickly uncoiled itself from the body of its intended victim, glad to let the latter escape, and only thinking of getting free itself by scuttling off into the thickest of the underwood, where it disappeared evidently writhing in pain. Too anxious about the condition of their comrade, neither Captain Redwood nor Saloo thought of pursuing it, but stooped down over the released body of the Irishman, who had fallen prostrate to the earth. On due examination it proved that there was not much harm done beyond a terrible fright; and after some congratulations, he was induced to get once more upon his feet and accompany them to the camp. But for Saloo and his kris, beyond doubt he would never have returned to it alive. For the python in the Old World is quite as formidable as the boa in the New. Perhaps it is even more to be dreaded; for, notwithstanding its great length--twenty-five to thirty feet--it is exceedingly nimble and its muscular strength is immense. There are numerous authentic stories on record of its having crushed the buffalo and the tiger in its huge constricting folds. The _python reticulatus_ is probably the largest species. CHAPTER THIRTEEN. CHICKS QUICK TO TAKE WING. Two more days passed without any occurrence of an unusual nature, though the castaways made several short excursions and explorations into the forest, and also up and down the shore, keeping, however, close to the edge of the timber. These ended without any important discovery being made, but confirmed them in their conjecture that the coast on which they had been cast was uninhabited, at least for a considerable distance on each side of the place where they had landed. The most disappointing thing about these exploratory trips was their fruitlessness in obtaining food, the chief object for which they had been made. Excepting some stray roots and berries of an esculent nature, they had nothing to eat after the maleos' eggs were consumed; and these had lasted them only into the second day. It is true the durion stood near, and its fruit would for a time keep them from starving. Still it would do little for the restoration of their strength; and upon such diet it would be a long time before they could undertake the arduous journey contemplated with any fair prospect of being able to finish it. No more Singapore oysters could be found, no fish caught; and such birds and beasts of the forest as Captain Redwood had accidentally got a glimpse of, had either flown or fled away without giving him as much as the chance of a snap shot. At night they again heard the stridulous clamour of the maleos, and every morning looked out for them; but these fine fowls did not put in another appearance, much less deposit three dozen eggs right under their eyes, and in a convenient spot for being gathered. Saloo, however, who knew all about their habits, believed he might yet find another ovarium; and with this view, on the morning of the third day, after giving up all further attempts at getting shell-fish, he started upon a "prospecting" expedition after eggs, the others going with him. Their route led along the shore, and among the dry sand-wreaths, swirled up near the selvedge of the woods. If another egg depository existed, it was there it should be found. He told his companions that not only did different gangs of the maleos bury their eggs in different places, but the same tribe or flock had the habit of returning to the beach at different times, each time laying their collected eggs in a new and separate pit. That, moreover, these curious birds, guided by instinct or cunning, are accustomed to conceal the place of deposit, which might be easily recognised by their tracks and scratchings. This they do by scoring the ground in other places, and giving to the surface the same appearance as it bears over the spot where their eggs have been left to the hatching of the sun. In this searching excursion Saloo had brought with him a boat-hook; and it was not long before he had an opportunity of proving the truth of his words. A place where the sand was very much tracked by the huge feet of the megapodes soon presented itself, exactly resembling the spot where they had procured the first supply of eggs. But on probing it with the boat-hook, Saloo at once pronounced it one of the sham nests. After all, the creatures did not show too much cunning; for the presence of this pretended place of deposit told the Malay that a real one would not be far off; and, sure enough, another was soon after discovered, which, on being sounded by the iron point of the boat-hook, gave back a firm feel and a sharp metallic click, that told him there were eggs underneath. The sand as before, was carefully removed--Murtagh having brought with him an oar for the purpose--when, for the second time, nearly three dozen beautiful salmon-coloured eggs were disclosed to their view. These were carefully taken up, and carried back to the place of encampment, where they were left lying upon the ground, the party resuming their quest, in hope of being able to lay in a larger and more permanent supply. As it chanced, another considerable receptacle was struck, giving back sweet music to the probing of the boat-hook; and its contents were also added to the larder. As the last lot had been found under sand that appeared but recently stirred, it followed that they were fresher than those of the second finding, and therefore was it determined upon that they should be first eaten. The egg-gatherers having been now several hours engaged, and again become almost as hungry as when first cast upon the shore, once more kindled a fire, set the huge shells upon it, and using the one as a boiling-pot, and the other as a frying-pan, prepared themselves a meal of two courses--_oeuf bouille_ and _omelette_. Next day they again went in search of other eggs, intending to lay in a store against the eventuality of any possible period of famine. But although they discovered several scratched places, and carefully "sounded" them, no more maleos' eggs could be found; and they came to the conclusion that they had despoiled all the "incubator" beds existing on that section of the Bornean coast. By reason of their rapidly-increasing strength, their appetites were by this time almost insatiable. They were, therefore, not long in using up all the "setting" last gathered, and were about to begin upon the other lot that did not seem so "newly laid." These had been kept separate, and permitted to lie where they had first placed them--out on the open surface of the sand, some fifteen or twenty yards beyond the shadow of the tree. Negligently, and somewhat unwisely, had this been done; for during the day the hot sun shining down upon them would naturally have a tendency to spoil and addle them. Still the time had not been very long; and as no one thought of their being damaged, they were preparing to turn them into eggs poached, fried, boiled, or otherwise. Saloo had rekindled the fire, and got ready his pots and pans; while Murtagh, who had stepped out to the "larder", was about to take up one of the eggs, and carry it to the "kitchen." But at that moment a sight met the eyes of the Irishman, that not only astonished, but caused him to sing out so excitedly as at once to attract the attention of the others to the same singular spectacle. It was that of an egg rolling, as it were, spontaneously over the ground? And not only one egg; for, as they continued to gaze a while, the whole lot, as if taking their cue from it, commenced imitating the movement, some with a gentle, others a more violent motion! Murtagh sprang back affrighted, and stood with his red hair on end, gazing at the odd and inexplicable phenomenon. The others were as much puzzled as he--all except the Malay, who at a glance understood the philosophy of the movement. "Young malee inside," he cried in explanation. "We no eat egg, we get chickee. Wait little minnit. You him see come out full featha." Truly enough the "chicks" did come out, not as down-covered helpless creatures, but pults in full plumage, as Saloo had predicted: at all events, full enough to enable them to fly; for as the shells one after another commenced crackling--burst outward by the young birds' strength--each showed a perfect fledgling; that, springing forth from the shivered encasement, like Jack out of his box, at once flapped its little wings, and essayed short flights over the surface of the sand. So much were the spectators taken by surprise, that one and all of the new-born but completely equipped birds, would have winged their way into the forest and been lost, had it not been for Saloo, who, accustomed to such transformations, was in no way discomposed, but preserved his coolness and equanimity. Fortified by these, and armed with the boat-hook, which he had suddenly seized, he struck down the precocious chicks one after another, and put an end to their aspiring flights by laying them lifeless upon the sand. In the end it was neither eggs nor omelettes, but tender, delicate "squabs" the castaways had for their prandial repast. CHAPTER FOURTEEN. A GRAND TREE-CLIMBER. The castaways having made a repast on chicks instead of eggs, as they had been expecting, were for the time satisfied, so far as concerned their appetites. But aware that these would ere long recommence their craving, they could not be contented to remain inactive. It would be necessary to procure some other kind of provisions, and, if possible, a permanent stock on which they could rely until ready to set out on their journey, with a surplus to carry them some way along it. Although in Borneo there are many kinds of strange birds, and some of them large ones, they are not to be found everywhere, and when seen, not so easily caught or shot. There are some large quadrupeds too, as the Indian rhinoceros, and the Sumatran tapir; and although the flesh of these great thick-skinned animals is neither tender nor delicate, yet men who can get no other soon find themselves in a position to relish it, despite its toughness and its coarse texture. But neither rhinoceros nor tapir was seen by our castaways; neither seemed to frequent that part of the coast, as no tracks of them were observed during their excursions. If they had fallen in with a rhinoceros, they would have had some difficulty in killing it; seeing that this enormous brute is as large as a small elephant, its body protected by a thick hide embossed with hard knob-like protuberances, like those upon shields, giving to the animal the appearance of being encased in a full suit of ancient armour. The Sumatran tapir, too, is a creature that does not readily succumb to its assailant, being larger and stronger than its namesake of South America. There are two species of deer known in Borneo; one of them, the "rusa," a fine large animal. Captain Redwood was in hopes he might meet with an individual of either species; and with this object in view, he continued to make short excursions into the woods, taking his rifle along with him, occasionally accompanied by Murtagh, with the ship's musket. But they always returned empty-handed, and a good deal down-hearted, having seen nothing that could be converted into venison. Saloo had again tried for eggs and shell-fish, but was unsuccessful in his search after both; evidently there were no more depositories of maleos' eggs, nor Singapore oysters, nor, indeed, any kind of shell-fish, on that part of the shore. They did not again see any of the mound-making birds--not even those they had despoiled; for it is not the habit of the megapodes to return to their eggs, but to leave them to be hatched under the hot sand, and the chicks to scratch their way upward to the surface, thus taking care of themselves from the very moment of their birth, and, indeed, we may say, before it, since it can scarcely be said they are born before breaking through the shell; and this they have to do for themselves, else they would never see daylight. Talk of precocious chicks! There are none anywhere to be compared with the megapodean pullets of the Malayan Archipelago, no birds half so "early" as they. For some days, after eating up the last chicken of the flock, our castaways could get nothing to live upon but durions; and although these formed a diet sufficiently agreeable to the palate, they were not very strengthening. Besides, they were not so easily gathered; the few they had found on some trees, which Saloo had conveniently climbed, being quickly exhausted. The large durion-tree under which they had first encamped was well furnished with fruit. But its tall stem, nearly a hundred feet, without a branch, and with a bark smooth as that of a sycamore, looked as if no mortal man could ascend it. Captain Redwood had fired several rounds of his chain-shot up into it, and brought down many of the grand spinous pericarps; but this cost an expenditure of ammunition; and, circumstanced as they were, they saw it would never do to waste it in such whimsical fashion. Still, for want of food, the fruit must be obtained some way or other, and the question was how to "pluck" it. In their dilemma the Malay once more came to their aid. Fortunately for all, Saloo was a native of Sumatra, and had been brought up among its forests, much resembling those of Borneo. He was skilled in the wood-craft common to both islands; and, perhaps, of all the crew of the castaway ship, not one could have survived whose services would have been of more value to Captain Redwood and his party than those of the brown-skinned pilot;--especially since it had been their fate to be cast upon the shores of Borneo. His companions had already experienced the benefit to be derived from his knowledge of the country's productions, and were beginning to consult him in almost every difficulty that occurred. He appeared capable of accomplishing almost anything. For all this, they were no little surprised and somewhat incredulous when he declared his intention of climbing the great durion-tree. Murtagh was very much inclined to deny that he could do it. "The nigger's makin' game of us, captin," he said. "It would be as much as a squirrel could do to speel up that tall trunk. Why, it's as smooth as the side of a copper-bottomed ship, an' nothin' to lay howlt on. He's jokin'." "No jokee, Mista Multa. Saloo that tlee climb soon. You help you see." "Oh, be aisy now! I'll help you all I can, if that'll do any good. How do you mane to set about it?" To this Saloo made no verbal rejoinder, but laying hold of a small axe, that had been brought away in the boat, he walked off toward a clump of bamboos growing near the spot where they had made their camp. The first thing he did was to cut down five or six of the largest of these canes, some of them being several inches in diameter, directing Murtagh to drag them off, and deposit them close to the durion-tree. As soon as he had felled what he deemed a sufficient number, he returned to the spot where the Irishman had deposited them, and commenced chopping them into pieces of about eighteen inches in length. In this the ship-carpenter, by reason of his calling, was able to give him efficient aid; and the ground was soon strewed with disjointed bamboos. Each of the pieces was then split into two, and sharply pointed at one end, so as to resemble a peg designed for being driven into the ground. But it was not into the ground Saloo intended driving them, as will be presently seen. While Murtagh was engaged in splitting and sharpening the sections of bamboo, the Malay went off once more into the woods, and soon came back again, bearing in his arms what looked like a quantity of rough packing-cord. The freshly-cut ends of it, however, with their greenish colour and running sap, told it to be some species of creeping-plant-- one of the parasites, or epiphytes, that abound everywhere in the forests of Borneo, as in those of all tropical countries, and render the trade of the ropemaker altogether superfluous. Throwing down his bundle of creepers, Saloo now took up one of the pointed pegs, and, standing by the trunk of the durion, drove it into the soft sapwood, a little above the height of his own head. The axe, which was a light one, and had a flat hammer-shaped head, served him for a mallet. As soon as the first peg had been driven to the depth of several inches, he threw aside the axe, and laid hold of the stake with both hands. Then drawing his feet from the ground, so that all his weight came upon the peg, he tried whether it would sustain him without yielding. It did, and he was satisfied. His next movement was another excursion into the forest, where he found some bamboo stems of a slenderer kind than those already cut, but quite as tall. Having selected three or four of these, he chopped them down, and dragged them up to the durion. Then taking one, he set it upright on its butt-end, parallel to the trunk of the tree, and at such a distance from it as to strike near the outer extremity of the peg already driven home, close to the end of which he had already cut a couple of notches. Some of the vegetable twine was next prepared by him, and taking a piece of the proper length, he made the upright bamboo fast to the horizontal peg by a knowing knot, such as only a savage or sailor can tie. Captain Redwood and his ship-carpenter having now obtained an inkling of his design, stood by to render every assistance, while the young people as spectators were very much interested in the proceeding. As soon as the upright cane was securely lashed to the cross piece, and also made safe against shifting by having its lower end "stepped" or embedded in the ground, Saloo prepared to ascend, taking with him several of the pegs that had been sharpened. Murtagh "gave him a leg," and he stood upon the first "round" of the ladder. Then reaching up, he drove in a second peg--not quite so far above the first as this was from the ground. With another piece of creeper he made it also fast to the perpendicular pole, and the second round was formed, upon which he had to climb without any helping hand, and with the agility of an ape. A third step was similarly established; then a fourth and fifth, and so on, till the pegs and cordage carried up with him gave out, when he came back to the ground to provide himself with a second supply. Obtaining this, he once more ascended, and continued to carry aloft his singular "shrouds." The next thing to be exhausted was the upright piece, which, being only about thirty feet in length, and requiring a surplus to be left, of course came far short of reaching to the lowest limbs of the durion. Another similar stem of bamboo had to be added on by splicing; but for this he did not need to descend, as Murtagh, stretching to his arm's length, handed it up to him, so that he was enabled to lay hold of and draw it up of himself. Giving the two pieces a good length of double for the splice, he bound them securely together, and then went on with the driving of his pegs, to complete the remaining rounds of the ladder. In a space of time that did not in all exceed twenty minutes, he had got up to within ten or twelve feet of the lower branches of the durion--to such a height as caused those looking at him from below to feel giddy as they gazed. It was, indeed, a strange and somewhat fearful spectacle-- that slight human form, sixty or seventy feet above their heads, at such a vast elevation so diminished in size as to appear like a child or a pigmy, and the more fearful to them who could not convince themselves of the security of the slender stair upon which he was standing. They were half expecting that, at any moment, one of the pegs would give way, and precipitate the poor fellow to the earth, a crushed and shapeless mass! It was just as when some courageous workman in a manufacturing town-- bricklayer or carpenter--ascends to the top of one of its tall factory chimneys, to repair some damage done by fire-crack or lightning, and the whole populace of the place rushes out of doors, to look up at the strange spectacle, and admire the daring individual, while trembling in fear for his fate. So stood the little party under the tall durion-tree, regarding the ascent of Saloo. CHAPTER FIFTEEN. SOMETHING SHARP. The Malay had ascended, as already said, to within ten or twelve feet from the lower limbs of the tree, and was still engaged driving in his pegs and binding on the upright bamboo to continue his ascent, when all at once he was seen to start and abruptly suspend operations. At the same time an exclamation escaped his lips, in a low tone, but seemingly in accents of alarm. They all looked up apprehensively, and also started away from the tree; for they expected to see him come tumbling down in their midst. But no; he was still standing firm upon the last made round of the ladder, and in an erect attitude, as if he had no fear of falling. With one hand he held the axe, the other gently grasping the upright bamboo that served him for a support. Instead of looking down to them, to call out or claim their assistance, they saw that his eyes were turned upward and fixed, as if on some object directly over his head. It did not appear to be among the branches of the durion, but as if in the trunk of the tree; and in the interval of silence that succeeded his first quick exclamation, they could hear a hissing sound, such as might proceed from the throat of a goose when some stranger intrudes upon the domain of the farmyard. As it was carried down the smooth stem of the durion, which acted as a conductor, the spectators underneath guessed it was not a goose, but some creature of a less innocent kind. "A snake, be japers!" was the conjecture that dropped from the ship-carpenter's lips, while the same thought occurred simultaneously to the others; for they could think of no living thing, other than a serpent, capable of sending forth such a sibilant sound as that just heard. "What is it, Saloo?" hailed Captain Redwood; "are you in any danger?" "No dangee, cappen; only little bit good luck, that all," was the cheering response that restored their confidence. "How good luck?" asked the captain, puzzled to think of what fortune could have turned up in their favour so high above their heads. "You see soon," rejoined the Malay, taking a fresh peg from his girdle, and once more resuming his task at stair-making. While he was engaged in hammering, and between the resounding strokes, they at the bottom of the tree repeatedly heard the same hissing sound they had taken for the sibilations of a snake, and which they might still have believed to be this, but for a hoarse croaking voice, mingling with the sibilation, which reached their ears at intervals, evidently proceeding from the same throat. Moreover, as they continued to gaze upward, watching Saloo at his work, they caught sight of something in motion on the trunk, and about a foot above his face. It was something of a whitish colour and slender shape, pointed like one of the bamboo pegs he was busily driving at. Now they saw it, and now they did not see it; for whatever it was, it was sunk inside the trunk of the durion-tree, alternately protruding and drawing back. It was also clear to them, that from this sharp-pointed thing, whether beast, bird, or reptile, came the hissing and hoarse croaking that puzzled them. "What is it?" again asked the captain, now no longer anxious or alarmed, but only curious to know what the strange creature could be. "Buld, cappen--biggee buld." "Oh, a bird, that's all; what sort of bird?" "Honbill; ole hen hornbill. She on ha ness inside, hatchee egg; she built up in dat; ole cock he shuttee up with mud." "Oh, a hornbill!" said the captain, repeating the name of the bird for the information of those around him; and now that they more narrowly scrutinised the spot where the white-pointed beak was still bobbing out and in, they could perceive that there was a patch or space of irregular roundish shape, slightly elevated above the bark, having a plastered appearance, and of the colour of dry mud. They had barely time to make this last observation, when Saloo, having got another peg planted so as to enable him to ascend high enough, turned the edge of his axe against the trunk of the durion, and commenced chipping off the mud, that now fell in flakes to the bottom of the tree. It took him only a very short time to effect a breach into the barricaded nest--one big enough to admit his hand with the fingers at fall spread. His arm was at once thrust in up to the elbow; and as his digits closed fearlessly around the throat of the old hen hornbill, she was drawn forth from her place of imprisonment. For a time she was seen in Saloo's hands, convulsively writhing and flopping her great wings, like a turkey gobbler with his head suddenly cut off. There was some screaming, hissing, and croaking, but to all these sounds Saloo quickly put an end, by taking a fresh grasp of the throat of the great bird, choking the breath out of it until the wings ceased fluttering; and then he flung its body down at the feet of the spectators. Saloo did not descend immediately, but once more thrust his hand into the nest, hoping, no doubt, to find an egg or eggs in it. Instead of these, the contents proved to be a bird--and only one--a chick recently hatched, about the size of a squab-pigeon, and fat as a fed ortolan. Unlike the progeny of the megapodes, hatched in the hot sand, the infant hornbill was without the semblance of a feather upon its skin, which was all over of a green, yellowish hue. There was not even so much as a show of down upon it. For a moment Saloo held it in his hand, hissing as it was in his own tiny way. Then chucking it down after its murdered mother, where it fell not only killed, but "squashed," he prepared to descend in a less hasty manner. He now saw no particular need for their dining on durions, at least on that particular day; and therefore discontinued his task upon the bamboo ladder, which could be completed on the morrow, or whenever the occasion called for it. CHAPTER SIXTEEN. AN ENEMY IN THE AIR. Though the old hen hornbill, after her long and seemingly forced period of incubation, might not prove such a tender morsel, they were nevertheless rejoiced at this accession to their now exhausted larder, and the pilot at once set about plucking her, while Murtagh kindled a fresh fire. While they were thus engaged, Henry, who had greatly admired the ingenuity displayed by Saloo in the construction of his singular ladder, bethought him of ascending it. He was led to this exploit partly out of curiosity to try what such a climb would be like; but more from a desire to examine the odd nest so discovered--for to him, as to most boys of his age, a bird's nest was a peculiarly attractive object. He thought that Saloo had not sufficiently examined the one first plundered, and that there might be another bird or an egg behind. He was not naturalist enough to know--what the ex-pilot's old Sumatran experience had long ago taught him--that the hornbill only lays one egg, and brings forth but a single chick. Whether or no, he was determined to ascend and satisfy himself. He had no fear of being able to climb the tree-ladder. It did not seem any more difficult than swarming up the shrouds of a ship, and not half so hard as going round the main-top without crawling through the "lubber's hole"--a feat he had often performed on his father's vessel. Therefore, without asking leave, or saying a word to any one, he laid hold of the bamboo pegs and started up the tree. None of the others had taken any notice of him. Captain Redwood was engaged in wiping out his gun, with little Helen attending upon him, while Saloo was playing poulterer, and Murtagh, a little way off in the woods, gathering faggots for the fire. Henry kept on, hand over hand, and foot after foot, till he at length stood upon the topmost round of the unfinished ladder. Being almost as tall as Saloo himself, he easily got his arm into the cavity that contained the nest, and commenced groping all over it. He could find no other bird, nor yet an egg. Only the dried-up ordure of the denizens that had lately occupied the prison cell, along with some bits of the shell out of which the young hornbill had been but recently hatched. After a moment or two spent in examining the curious cavity, and reflecting on the odd habit of a bird being thus plastered up and kept for weeks in close confinement--all, too, done by its own mate, who surely could not so act from any intention of cruelty--after in vain puzzling himself as to what could be the object of such a singular imprisonment, he determined upon returning to the ground, and seeking the explanation from Saloo. He had returned upon the topmost step, and was about letting himself down to that next below, when not only were his ears assailed by sharp cries, but he suddenly saw his eyes in danger of being dug out of their sockets by the sharp beak of a bird, whose huge shadowy wings were flapping before his face! Although somewhat surprised by the onslaught, so sudden and unexpected-- and at the same time no little alarmed--there was no mystery about the matter. For he could see at a glance that the bird so assailing him was a hornbill; and a moment's reflection told him it was the cock. Afar off in the forest--no doubt in search of food--catering for his housekeeper and their new chick, of whose birth he was most probably aware, he could not have heard her cries of distress; else would he have rushed to the rescue, and appeared much sooner upon the scene. But at length he had arrived; and with one glance gathered in the ruin that had occurred during his absence. There was his carefully plastered wall pulled down, the interior of his domicile laid open, his darlings gone, no doubt dragged out, throttled and slaughtered, by the young robber still standing but a step from the door. The enraged parent did not pause to look downward, else he might have seen a still more heart-rending spectacle at the bottom of the tree. He did not stay for this; on the instant he went swoop at the head of the destroyer, with a scream that rang far over the forest, and echoed in a thousand reverberations through the branches of the trees. Fortunately for Henry, he had on his head a thick cloth cap, with its crown cotton-padded. But for this, which served as a helmet, the beak of the bird would have been into his skull, for at the first dab it struck right at his crown. At the second onslaught, which followed quick after, Henry, being warned, was enabled to ward off the blow, parrying with one hand, while with the other supporting himself on his perch. For all this the danger was not at an end; as the bird, instead of being scared away, or showing any signs of an intention to retreat, only seemed to become more infuriated by the resistance, and continued its swooping and screaming more vigorously and determinedly than ever. The boy was well aware of the peril that impended; and so, too, were those below; who, of course, at the first screech of the hornbill, had looked up and seen what was passing above them. They would have called upon him to come down, and he would have done so without being summoned, if there had been a chance. But there was none: for he could not descend a single step without using both hands on the ladder; and to do this would leave his face and head without protection. Either left unguarded for a single instant, and the beak of the bird, playing about like a pickaxe, would be struck into his skull, or buried deep in the sockets of his eyes. He knew this, and so also they who looked from below. He could do nothing but keep his place, and continue to fight off the furious assailant with his free arm--the hand getting torn at each contact, till the blood could be seen trickling from the tips of his fingers. It is difficult to say how long this curious contest might have continued, or how it would have terminated, had the combatants been left to themselves. In all probability it would have ended by the boy's having his skull cleft open or his eyes torn out; or, growing feeble, he would have lost his hold upon the ladder and fallen to the foot of the tree--of itself certain death. It in reality looked as if this would be the lamentable result, and very quickly. Saloo had sprung to the tree, and was already ascending to the rescue. But for all that he might be too late; or even if successful in reaching the elevated point where Henry struggled against danger, he might still be unable to effect his deliverance. The alarmed father seemed to fear this, as he stood gazing, with agony depicted on his face--agony at the thought of seeing his dear boy exposed to such a fearful peril, and feeling himself so helpless to rescue him. All at once a thought flashed into his mind, that at least gave him some relief through the necessity of action. His rifle, which fortunately after cleaning he had reloaded, stood resting against the trunk of the tree. He sprang toward and seized hold of it. In another second it was raised to his shoulder; its muzzle pointed almost vertically upward, and circling around to get bearing upon the body of the bird. It was a dangerous shot to take, like that of Tell with the arrow and the apple. But it seemed yet more dangerous not to venture it; and with this reflection passing through his mind he watched the hornbill through several of its swoopings, and when at length in one of these it receded to some distance from Henry's face, he took quick sight upon it, and pulled trigger. A splendid shot--a broken wing--a huge bird seen fluttering through the air to the earth--then flopping and screaming over the ground, till its cries were stilled and its strugglings terminated by a few blows from a boat-hook held in the hands of the ship-carpenter;--all this was the spectacle of only a few seconds! CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. SITTING BY THE SPIT. Saloo had by this time climbed to the topmost rounds of the ladder; and was able to assist Henry in descending, which he did without further difficulty or danger. No great harm had happened to him; he had received only a few scratches and skin-wounds, that would soon yield to careful treatment and the surgical skill which his father possessed, along with certain herbal remedies known to Saloo. They were soon restored to their former state of equanimity, and thought nothing more of the little incident that had just flurried them, except to congratulate themselves on having so unexpectedly added to their stock of provisions the bodies of two great birds, each of respectable size; to say nothing of the fat featherless chick, which appeared as if it would make a very _bonne bouche_ for a gourmand. As we have said, Saloo did not think any more of ascending the durion-tree, nor they of asking him to do so. Its fruits might have served them for dessert, to come after the game upon which they were now going to dine. But they were not in condition to care for following the usual fashion of dining, and least of all did they desire a dinner of different courses, so long as they had one sufficiently substantial to satisfy the simple demands of hunger. The two hornbills promised, each of them, a fair _piece-de-resistance_, while the fat pult was plainly a titbit, to be taken either _hors d'oeuvres_, or as an _entree_. They were not slow in deciding what should be done with the stock so unexpectedly added to their larder. In a trice the cock bird was despoiled of his plumage; the hen having been well-nigh dismantled of hers already. The former was trussed and made ready for the spit, the latter being intended for the pot, on the supposition that boiling might be better for her toughness. Murtagh had taken to finishing the plucking of the hen, while Saloo set about divesting the old cock of his feathers. The chick needed no plucking, nor even to be singed. Its skin was as free of covering as the shell of the egg lately containing it. It was tender enough to be cooked in any way. It could be boiled over the embers, and would make a nice meal for the two young people, and doubtless greatly benefit their strength. When the bodies of the old birds were unmasked of their feathery envelopment, it was seen that they were much smaller than supposed; and, moreover, that the hen was by many degrees larger in size and fatter than the cock. It was but natural, and was due to her sex, as well as to her long confinement in a dark cell of but limited dimensions, where she had nothing to do but to rest. But as the cock bird, after all, was quite as large as a Cochin-China fowl, and, moreover, in good condition, there would be enough of him to supply a full repast, without touching either the hen or chick. So it was determined that both should be reserved till the following morning, when no doubt all hands would be again hungry enough for the toughest of fowls. This point settled, the old cock was staked upon a bamboo spit, and set over the fire, where he soon began to sputter, sending out a savoury odour that was charmingly appetising. The hen was at the same time chopped into small pieces, which were thrown into one of the great shells, along with some seasoning herbs Saloo had discovered in the neighbouring woods; and as they could now give the stew plenty of time to simmer, it was expected that before next day the toughness would be taken out of the meat, and after all it might prove a palatable dish to people distressed as they had been, and not caring much for mere dainties. As they had nothing else to do but watch the spit, now and then turn it, and wait till the roast should be done, they fell into conversation, which naturally turned upon hornbills and their habits, Saloo furnishing most of the information concerning these curious birds. Captain Redwood had not only seen them before, in the course of his voyages among the Malayan Archipelago, but he had read about their habits, and knew that they were found in various parts of the African continent. They are there called _Korwe (Tockus erythrorhynchus_), and Dr Livingstone gives an interesting account of them. He says,--"We passed the nest of a korwe, just ready for the female to enter; the orifice was plastered on both sides, but a space left of a heart shape, and exactly the size of the bird's body. The hole in the tree was in every case found to be prolonged some distance above the opening, and thither the korwe always fled to escape being caught." The first time that Dr Livingstone himself saw the bird, it was caught by a native, who informed him that when the female hornbill enters her nest, she submits to a positive confinement. The male plasters up the entrance, leaving only a narrow slit by which to feed his mate, and which exactly suits the form of his beak. The female makes a nest of her own feathers, lays her eggs, hatches them, and remains with the young till they are fully fledged. During all this time, which is stated to be two or three months, the male continues to feed her and her young family. Strange to say, the prisoner generally becomes fat, and is esteemed a very dainty morsel by the natives, while the poor slave of a husband gets so lean that, on the sudden lowering of the temperature, which sometimes happens after a fall of rain, he is benumbed, falls down, and dies. It is somewhat unusual, as Captain Redwood remarked, for the prisoner to fatten, while the keeper pines! The toucan of South America also forms her nest in the cavity of a tree, and, like the hornbill, plasters up the aperture with mud. The hornbill's beak, added Captain Redwood, is slightly curved, sharp-pointed, and about two inches long. While the body of the rooster was sputtering away in the bright blaze, Saloo entertained the party by telling them what _he_ knew about the habits of the hornbills; and this was a good deal, for he had often caught them in the forests of Sumatra. It may be remarked here, that many of the natives of the Malayan Archipelago possess a considerable knowledge of natural history, at least of its practical part. The reason is, that the Dutch, who own numerous settlements throughout these islands, have always been great taxidermists and skin-preservers, and to procure specimens for them and obtain the reward, has naturally originated a race of collectors among the native people. Saloo himself had been one of these bird-hunters, in early life, before taking to the sea, which last, as a general thing, is the favourite element and profession of a Malay. He told them that he knew of two kinds of hornbill in his native island of Sumatra, but that he had seen the skins of several other species in the hands of the taxidermists, brought from various islands, as well as from the mainland of India, Malacca, and Cochin-China. They were all large birds, though some were smaller than the others; mostly black, with white markings about the throat and breast. He said that their nests are always built in the hollow of a tree, in the same way as the one he had robbed, and the entrance to them invariably plastered up with mud in a similar fashion, leaving a hole just big enough to allow the beak of the hen to be passed out, and opened a little for the reception of the food brought to her by her mate. It is the cock that does the "bricking up," Saloo said, bringing the "mortar" from the banks of some neighbouring pool or stream and laying it on with his beak. He begins the task as soon as the hen takes her seat upon her solitary egg. The hen is kept in her prison not only during the full period of incubation, but long after; in fact, until the young chick becomes a full fledgling, and can fly out of itself. During all this time the imprisoned bird is entirely dependent on her mate for every morsel of food required, either by herself or for the sustenance of the nursling, and, of course, has to trust to his fidelity, in which he never fails. The hornbills, however, like the eagles, and many other rapacious birds, though not otherwise of a very amiable disposition, are true to the sacred ties of matrimony. So said Saloo, though not in this exact phraseology. "But what if the ould cock shud get killed?" suggested Murtagh. "Supposin' any accident was to prevint him from returnin' to the nest? Wud the hen have to stay there an' starve?" Saloo could not answer this question. It was a theory he had never thought of, or a problem that had not come under his experience. Possibly it might be so; but it was more likely that her imprisonment within the tree cave, being an act agreed to on her part, was more apparent than real, and that she could break through the mud barricade, and set herself free whenever she had a mind to do so. This was the more probable view of the case, and terminated the discussion on natural history; or rather, it was brought to a close by their perceiving that the bird upon the bamboo stake was done to a turn, and they were by this time too hungry to think of anything else than eating it. So off it came from the spit, and at it they went with a will, Saloo acting as carver, and distributing the roast joints all around, taking care to give the tenderest bits of breast to the children, and to Helen the liver wing. They were all very cheerful in commencing their supper, but their strain was changed to sadness even before they had finished it. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. SICK AFTER SUPPER. It was near upon sundown when the roast fowl was taken from the spit, carved, and distributed among them. The fire over which they had cooked it was close to the trunk of the tree under whose shade they intended to pass the night. It was not the one they had chosen after being driven from the durion, but another, with far-spreading branches and green glossy leaves growing thickly upon them, which promised a better protection from the dews of the night. They needed this, as they had not yet thought of erecting any other roof. The only thing in the shape of shelter they had set up was the tarpaulin, spread awning fashion over four uprights, which held it at the four corners; but this was barely sufficient to furnish the two young people with a sleeping-place. After removing the roast fowl from the spit, they had not permitted their fire to die out. On the contrary, Murtagh, in whose charge it was, threw on some fresh faggots. They intended keeping it up through the night, not to scare away wild beasts, for, as already said, they had no fear of these; but because the atmosphere toward midnight usually became damp and chilly, and they would need the fire to keep them warm. It was quite sunset by the time they had finished eating the roast hornbill, and as there is but little twilight under or near the equator, the darkness came down almost instantaneously. By the light of the blazing faggots they picked the bones of the bird, and picked them clean. But they had scarce dropped the drumsticks and other bones out of their fingers, when one and all fell violently sick. A sensation of vertigo had been growing upon them, which, as soon as the meal was over, became nausea, and shortly after ended in vomiting. It was natural they should feel alarmed. Had only one been ill, they might have ascribed the illness to some other cause; but now, when all five were affected at the same time, and with symptoms exactly similar, they could have no other belief than that it was owing to what they had eaten, and that the flesh of the hornbill had caused their sickness-- perhaps poisoned them. Could this be? Was it possible for the flesh of a bird to be poisonous? Was that of a hornbill so? These questions were quickly asked of one another, but more especially addressed to Saloo. The Malay did not believe it was. He had eaten hornbills before, and more than once; had seen others eat them; but had never known or heard of the dish being followed by symptoms similar to those now affecting and afflicting them. The bird itself might have eaten something of a poisonous nature, which, although it had not troubled its own stomach, acted as an emetic upon theirs. There was some probability in this conjecture; at all events the sufferers thought so for a time, since there seemed no other way of accounting for the illness which had so suddenly seized upon them. At first they were not so very greatly alarmed, for they could not realise the idea that they had been absolutely poisoned. A little suffering and it would be all over, when they would take good care not to eat roast hornbill again. No, nor even stewed or broiled; so that now the old hen and her young one were no longer looked upon as so much provision ahead. Both would be thrown away, to form food for the first predatory creature that might chance to light upon them. As time passed, however, and the sufferers, instead of feeling relieved, only seemed to be growing worse--the vertigo and nausea continuing, while the vomiting was renewed in frequent and violent attacks--they at length became seriously alarmed, believing themselves poisoned to death. They knew not what to do. They had no medicine to act as an antidote; and if they had been in possession of all the drugs in the pharmacopoeia, they would not have known which to make use of. Had it been the bite of a venomous snake or other reptile, the Malay, acquainted with the usual native remedies, might have found some herbaceous balsam in the forest; though in the darkness there would have been a difficulty about this, since it was now midnight, and there was no moon in the sky--no light to look for anything. They could scarcely see one another, and each knew where his neighbours lay only by hearing their moans and other exclamations of distress. As the hours dragged on wearily, they became still more and more alarmed. They seriously believed that death was approaching. A terrible contemplation it was, after all they had passed through; the perils of shipwreck, famine, thirst; the danger of being drowned; one of them escaping from a hideous reptile; another from the coils of a serpent; a third from having his skull cracked in by a fallen fruit, and afterwards split open by the beak of an angry bird. Now, after all these hairbreadth perils and escapes, to be poisoned by eating the flesh of this very bird--to die in such simple and apparently causeless fashion; though it may seem almost ridiculous, it was to them not a whit the less appalling. And appalled they were, as time passed, and they felt themselves growing worse instead of better. They were surely poisoned--surely going to die. CHAPTER NINETEEN. AN UNEASY NIGHT. Long with the agonising pain--for the sensations they experienced were exceedingly painful--there was confusion in their thoughts, and wandering in their speech. The feeling was somewhat to that of sea-sickness in its worst form; and they felt that reckless indifference to death so characteristic of the sufferer from this very common, but not the less painful, complaint. Had the sea, seething and surging against the beach so near them, broken beyond its boundaries, and swept over the spot where they lay, not one of them, in all probability, would have stirred hand or foot to remove themselves out of its reach. Drowning--death in any form--would at that moment have seemed preferable to the tortures they were enduring. They did not lie still. At times one or another would get up and stray from under the tree. But the nausea continued, accompanied by the horrid retching; their heads swam, their steps tottered, and staggering back, they would fling themselves down despairingly, hoping, almost praying, for death to put an end to their agonies. It was likely soon to do so. During all, Captain Redwood showed that he was thinking less of himself than his children. Willingly would he have lain down and died, could that have secured their surviving him. But it was a fate that threatened all alike. On this account, he was wishing that either he or one of his comrades, Murtagh or Saloo, might outlive the young people long enough to give them the rites of sepulture. He could not bear the thought that the bodies of his two beautiful children were to be left above ground, on the desolate shore, their flesh to be torn from them by the teeth of ravenous beasts or the beaks of predatory birds--their bones to whiten and moulder under the sun and storms of the tropics. Despite the pain he was himself enduring, he secretly communicated his wishes to Murtagh and the Malay, imploring them to obey what might be almost deemed a dying request. Parting speeches were from time to time exchanged in the muttered tones of despair. Prayers were said aloud, unitedly, and by all of them silently in their own hearts. After this, Captain Redwood lay resignedly, his children, one on each side of him, nestling within his arms, their heads pillowed upon his breast close together. They also held one another by the hand, joined in affectionate embrace across the breast of their father. Not many words were spoken between them; only, now and then, some low murmurs, which betokened the terrible pain they felt, and the fortitude both showed in enduring it. Now and then, too, their father spoke to them. At first he had essayed to cheer them with words of encouragement; but as time passed, these seemed to sound hollow in their ears as well as his own, and he changed them to speeches enjoining resignation, and words that told of the "Better Land". He reminded them that their mother was there, and they should all soon join her. They would go to her together; and how happy this would be after their toils and sufferings; after so many perils and fatigues, it would be but pleasure to find rest in heaven. In this way he tried to win their thoughts from dwelling on the terrors of death, every moment growing darker and seeming nearer. The fire burned down, smouldered, and went out. No one had thought of replenishing it with fuel. Though there were faggots enough collected not far off, the toil of bringing them forward seemed too much for their wasted strength and deadened energies. Fire could be of no service to them now. It had done them no good while ablaze; and since it had gone out, they cared not to renew it. If they were to die, their last moments could scarcely be more bitter in darkness than in light. Still Captain Redwood wished for light. He wished for it, so that he might once more look upon the faces of his two sweet suffering pets, before the pallor of death should overspread them. He would perhaps have made an effort to rekindle the fire, or requested one of the others to do it; but just then, on turning his eyes to the east, he saw a greyish streak glimmering above the line of the sea-horizon. He knew it was the herald of coming day; and he knew, moreover, that, in the latitude they were in, the day itself would not linger long behind. "Thank God!" was the exclamation that came from his lips, low muttered, but in fervent emphasis. "Thank God, I shall see them once more! Better their lives should not go out in the darkness." As he spoke the words, and as if to gratify him, the streak on the eastern sky seemed rapidly to grow broader and brighter, its colour of pale grey changing to golden yellow; and soon after, the upper limb of the glorious tropical sun showed itself over the smooth surface of the Celebes Sea. As his cheering rays touched the trees of the forest, then eyes were first turned upon one another, and then in different directions. Those of Captain Redwood rested upon the faces of his children, now truly overspread with the wan pallor of what seemed to be rapidly approaching death. Murtagh gazed wistfully out upon the ocean, as if wishing himself once more upon it, and no doubt thinking of that green isle far away beyond it; while Saloo's glance was turned upward--not toward the heavens, but as if he was contemplating some object among the leaves of the tree overhead. All at once the expression upon his countenance took a change-- remarkable as it was sudden. From the look of sullen despair, which but the moment before might have been seen gleaming out of the sunken orbits of his eyes, his glance seemed to change to one of joy, almost with the quickness of the lightning's flash. Simultaneous with the change, he sprang up from his reclining position, uttering as he did so an exclamation in the Malayan tongue, which his companions guessed to be some formula of address to the Deity, from its ending with the word "Allah." "De gleat God be thank!" he continued, returning to his "pigeon English," so that the others might understand. "We all be save. Buld no poison. We no die yet. Come away, cappen," he continued, bending down, and seizing the children by the hands. Then raising both on their feet, he quickly added, "Come all away. Unda de tlee death. Out yonda we findee life. Come away--way." Without waiting for the consent either of them or their father, he led-- indeed, almost dragged--Helen and Henry from under the shadow of the tree and out toward the open sea-beach. Though Captain Redwood did not clearly comprehend the object of Saloo's sudden action, nor Murtagh comprehend it at all, both rose to their feet, and followed with tottering steps. Not until they had got out upon the open ground, and sat down upon the sand, with the fresh sea-breeze fanning their fevered brows, did Saloo give an explanation of his apparently eccentric behaviour. He did so by pointing to the tree under which they had passed the night, and pronouncing only the one word--"Upas." CHAPTER TWENTY. THE DEADLY UPAS. "Upas!" A word sufficient to explain all that had passed. Both Captain Redwood and his ship-carpenter understood its signification; for what man is there who has ever sailed through the islands of the India Archipelago without having heard of the upas? Indeed, who in any part of the world has not either heard or read of this poisonous tree, supposed to carry death to every living thing for a wide distance around it, not even sparing shrubs or plants--things of its own kind--but inflicting blight and destruction wherever its envenomed breath may be wafted on the breeze? Captain Redwood was a man of too much intelligence, and too well-informed, to have belief in this fabulous tale of the olden time. Still he knew there was enough truth in it to account for all that had occurred--for the vertigo and vomiting, the horrible nausea and utter prostration of strength that had come upon them unconsciously. They had made their camp under one of these baneful trees--the true upas (_antiaris toxicaria_); they had kindled a fire beneath it, building it close to the trunk--in fact, against it; the smoke had ascended among its leaves; the heat had caused a sudden exudation of the sap; and the envenomed vapour floating about upon the air had freely found its way both into their mouths and nostrils. For hours had this empoisoned atmosphere been their only breath, nearly depriving them of that upon which their lives depended. If still suffering severely from the effects of having inhaled the noxious vapour, they were now no longer wretched. Their spirits were even restored to a degree of cheerfulness, as is always the case with those who have just escaped from some calamity or danger. They now knew that in due time they would recover their health and strength. The glorious tropical sun that had arisen was shining benignantly in their faces, and brightening everything around, while the breeze, blowing fresh upon them from a serene sapphire-coloured sea, cooled their fevered blood. They felt already reviving. The sensations they experienced were those of one who, late suffering from sea-sickness, pent up in the state-room of a storm-tossed ship, with all its vile odours around him, has been suddenly transferred to _terra firma_, and laid upon some solid bank, grassy or moss-grown, with tall trees waving above, and the perfume of flowers floating upon the balmy air. For a long while they sat upon the sands in this pleasant dreamy state, gazing upon the white surf that curled over the coral reefs, gazing upon the blue water beyond, following the flight of large white-winged birds that now and then went plunging down into the sea, to rise up with a fish glistening in their beaks, half unconscious of the scene under their eyes and the strife continuing before them, but conscious, contented, and even joyous at knowing they still lived, and that the time had not yet come for them to die. They no longer blamed the hornbill for what had happened. The cause was in their own carelessness or imprudence; for Captain Redwood knew the upas-tree, and was well aware of its dangerous properties to those venturing into too close proximity. He had seen it in other islands; for it grows not only in Java, with which its name is more familiarly identified, but in Bali, Celebes, and Borneo. He had seen it elsewhere, and heard it called by different names, according to the different localities, as _tayim, hippo, upo, antijar_, and _upas_; all signifying the same thing--the "tree of poison." Had he been more careful about the selection of their camping-place, and looked upon its smooth reddish or tan-coloured bark and closely-set leaves of glossy green, he would have recognised and shunned it. He did not do so; for who at such a time could have been thinking of such a catastrophe? Under a tree whose shade seemed so inviting, who would have suspected that danger was lurking, much less that death dwelt among its leaves and branches? The first had actually arisen, and the last had been very near. But it was now far away, or at least no longer to be dreaded from the poison of the upas. The sickness caused by it would continue for a while, and it might be some time before their strength or energies would be fully restored. But of dying there was no danger, as the poison of the upas does not kill, when only inhaled as a vapour; unless the inhalation be a long time continued. Its sap taken internally, by the chewing of its leaves, bark, or root, is certain death, and speedy death. It is one of the ingredients used by the Bornean Dyaks for tipping their poisoned spears, and the arrows of their _sumpitans_ or blow-guns. They use it in combination with the _bina_, another deadly poison, extracted from the juice of a parasitical plant found everywhere through the forests of Borneo. It is singular that the upas-tree should belong to the same natural order, the Artocarpaceae, as the bread-fruit; the tree of death thus being connected with the tree of life. In some of the Indian islands it is called _Popon-upas_; in Java it is known as the _Antijar_. Its leaves are shaped like spear-heads; the fruit is a kind of drupe, clothed in fleshy scales. The juice, when prepared as a poison, is sometimes mixed with black pepper, and the juice of galanga-root, and of ginger. It is as thick as molasses, and will keep for a long time if sheltered from the action of the air. The upas does not grow as a gregarious tree, and is nowhere found in numbers. Like the precious treasures of nature--gold, diamonds, and pearls--her poisons, too, happily for man, are sparsely distributed. Even in the climate and soil congenial to it, the _antiaris toxicaria_ is rare; but wherever discovered is sure to be frequently visited, if in a district where there are hunters or warriors wishing to empoison and make more deadly their shafts. A upas-tree in a well-known neighbourhood is usually disfigured by seams and scars, where incisions have been made to extract its envenomed juice. That there were no such marks upon the one where they had made their camp, was evidence that the neighbourhood was uninhabited. So said Saloo, and the others were but too glad to accept his interpretation of the sign. CHAPTER TWENTY ONE. STARTING FOR THE INTERIOR. Reclining on the soft silvery sand, inhaling the fresh morning breeze blowing in from the Celebes Sea, every breath of it seeming to infuse fresh blood into their veins and renewed vigour into their limbs, the castaways felt their health and strength fast returning. Saloo's prognosis was rapidly proving itself correct. He had said they would soon recover, and they now acknowledged the truth of his prediction. Their cheerfulness came back along with their returning strength, and with this also their appetites. Their dinner-supper of roast hornbill had done them little good; but although for a time scared by such diet, and determined to eschew it when better could be had, they were now only too glad to resort to it, and it was agreed upon that the old hen, stewed as intended, should supply the material of their breakfast. A fresh fire was kindled far away from the dangerous upas; the huge shell, with its contents, was hastily snatched from the deadly shade, and, supported by four large pebbles to serve as feet for the queer stew-pan, it was placed over the burning embers, and soon commenced to steam and squeak, spreading around an odorous incense, far pleasanter to the olfactories of the hungry party than either the fresh saline breeze, or the perfume of tropical flowers now and then wafted to them from the recesses of the forest. While waiting for the flesh of the old hen to get properly and tenderly stewed, they could not resist the temptation of making an assault upon the chick; and it, too, was hurriedly rescued from the tainted larder beneath the upas-tree, spitted upon a bamboo sapling, and broiled like a squab-pigeon over the incandescent brands. It gave them only a small morsel each, serving as a sort of prelude to the more substantial breakfast soon to follow, and for which they could now wait with greater composure. In due time Saloo, who was wonderfully skilled in the tactics of the forest _cuisine_, pronounced the stew sufficiently done; when the stew-pan was lifted from the fire, and set in the soft sand for its contents to cool. Soon gathering around it, each was helped to a share: one to a wing with liver or gizzard, another to a thigh-joint with a bit of the breast, a third to the stripped breast-bone, or the back one, with its thin covering of flesh, a fourth to a variety of stray giblets. There was still a savoury sauce remaining in the pan, due to the herb condiments which Saloo had collected. This was served out in some tin pannikins, which the castaway crew had found time to fling into the boat before parting from the sinking ship. It gave them a soup, which, if they could only have had biscuits or bread with it, would have been quite as good as coffee for their breakfast. As soon as this was eaten, they took steps to change their place of encampment. Twice unfortunate in the selection of a site, they were now more particular, and carefully scrutinised the next tree under whose shadow they intended to take up their abode. A spreading fig not far off invited them to repose beneath its umbrageous foliage; and removing their camp paraphernalia from the poison-breathing; upas, they once more erected the tarpaulin, and recommenced housekeeping under the protecting shelter of a tree celebrated in the Hindu mythology as the "sacred banyan." "It was a goodly sight to see That venerable tree For o'er the lawn, irregularly spread. Fifty straight columns propt its lofty head; And many a long depending shoot, Seeking to strike its root, Straight like a plummet grew towards the ground. Some on the lower boughs which crost their way, Fixing their bearded fibres, round and round, With many a ring and wild contortion wound; Some to the passing wind at times, with sway Of gentle motion swung; Others of younger growth, unmoved, were hung Like stone-drops from a cavern's fretted height." The banyan often measures thirty feet in girth; the one selected by Captain Redwood was probably not less than twenty-five feet. Its peculiarity is that it throws out roots from all its branches, so that as fast as each branch, in growing downwards, touches the ground, it takes root, and in due time serves as a substantial prop to the horizontal bough, which, without some such support, would give way beneath its own weight. They intended it for only a temporary dwelling-place, until their strength should be sufficiently established to enable them to start on their contemplated overland journey, with a prospect of being able to continue it to its end. It seemed, at length, as if fortune, hitherto so adverse, had turned a smiling face toward them; and they were not much longer to be detained upon that wild and dangerous shore. For the same day on which they removed from the upas to the fig-tree, the latter furnished them with an article of food in sufficient quantity to stock their larder for nearly a week, and of a quality superior in strengthening powers to either roast or stewed hornbill, and quite equal to the eggs of the mound-making birds. It was not the fruit of the fig that had done this; but an animal they had discovered crawling along one of its branches. It was a reptile of that most hideous and horrid shape, the _saurian_; and only the hungriest man could ever have looked upon, with thoughts of eating it. But Saloo felt no repugnance of this kind; he knew that the huge lizard creeping along the limb of the banyan-tree, over five feet long, and nearly as thick as the body of a man, would afford flesh not only eatable, but such as would have been craved for by Apicius, had the Roman epicure ever journeyed through the islands of the Malayan Archipelago, and found an opportunity of making trial of it. What they saw slowly traversing the branch above them was one of those huge lizards of the genus _Hydrosaurus_, of which there are several species in Indian climes--like the _iguanas_ of America--harmless creatures, despite their horrid appearance, and often furnishing to the hunter or forester a meal of chops and steaks both tender and delicious. With this knowledge of what it would afford them, Saloo had no difficulty in persuading Captain Redwood to send a bullet through the skull of the _hydrosaurus_, and it soon lay lifeless upon the ground. The lizard was nigh six feet from snout to tail; and Saloo, assisted by Murtagh, soon slipped a piece of his vegetable rope around its jaws, and slung it up to a horizontal branch for the purpose of skinning it. Thus suspended, with limbs and arms sticking out, it bore a very disagreeable resemblance to a human being just hanged. Saloo did not care anything about this, but at once commenced peeling off its skin; and then he cut the body into quarters, and subdivided them into "collops," which were soon sputtering in the blaze of a bright fire. As the Malay had promised, these proved tender, tasting like young pork steaks, with a slight flavour of chicken, and just a _soupcon_ of frog. Delicate as they were, however, after three days' dieting upon them all felt stronger--almost strong enough, indeed, to commence their grand journey. Just then another, and still more strengthening, kind of food was added to their larder. It was obtained by a mere accident, in the form of a huge wild boar of the Bornean species, which, scouring the forest in search of fruits or roots, had strayed close to their camp under the fig-tree. He came too close for his own safety; a bullet from Captain Redwood's rifle having put an abrupt stop to his "rootings." Butchered in proper scientific fashion, he not only afforded them food for the time in the shape of pork chops, roast ribs, and the like; but gave them a couple of hams, which, half-cooked and cured by smoking, could be carried as a sure supply upon the journey. And so provisioned, they at length determined on commencing it, taking with them such articles of the wreck-salvage as could be conveniently transferred, and might prove beneficial. Bidding adieu to the pinnace, the dear old craft which had so safely carried them through the dangers of the deep, they embarked on a voyage of a very different kind, in the courses of which they were far less skilled, and of whose tracks and perils they were even more apprehensive. But they had no other alternative. To remain on the eastern coast of Borneo would be to stay there for ever. They could not entertain the slightest hope of any ship appearing off shore to rescue them. A vessel so showing itself would be, in all probability, a prau filled with bloodthirsty pirates, who would either kill or make captives of them, and afterwards sell them into slavery: and a slavery from which no civilised power could redeem them, as no civilised man might ever see them in their chains. It was from knowing this terrible truth that Captain Redwood had resolved upon crossing the great island overland at that part where he supposed it to be narrowest,--the neck lying between its eastern coast and the old Malayan town of Bruni on the west, adjacent to the islet of Labuan, where he knew an English settlement was situated. In pursuance of this determination, he struck camp, and moved forward into a forest of unknown paths and mysterious perils. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. ACROSS COUNTRY. In undertaking the journey across Borneo, Captain Redwood knew there would be many difficulties to encounter, as well as dangers. There was first the great distance, which could not be much less than two hundred and fifty miles, even if they should succeed in making it in a straight line--as the crow flies. But, no doubt, obstructions would present themselves along the route to cause many a detour. Still this was an obstacle which time would overcome. At the rate of ten miles a day, it would be conquered in a month; and if two months should have to be spent, it would not be a very formidable hardship, considering that it was a journey overtaken to carry them through a savage wilderness, and restore them to civilisation--nay, almost to life. That it was to be made on foot did not dismay them, they had quite recovered from the effects of their sea-suffering, as also from the poisonous breath of the upas, and felt strong enough to undertake any great feat of pedestrianism. And, as they were under no limits as to time, they could adopt such a rate of speed as the nature of the paths would permit. On this score there was neither apprehension nor uneasiness; there might have been about provisions, as the cured hams of the wild boar could not possibly last longer than a week; and what were they to eat after these were consumed? Saloo set their minds at rest on this matter, by telling them that the interior forests of Borneo--which he did not know--if they at all resembled those of Sumatra--which he did know--would be found full of fruit-bearing trees; and, besides, numerous chances would arise for killing or capturing birds and other small game, even if a deer or a second wild boar did not present himself. In order to be prepared for any such that might come in his way, as well as to save their ammunition, of which they had but a limited supply, Saloo had spent the last few days of their sojourn upon the coast in the manufacture of a weapon well suited for such a purpose, even better than musket or rifle. It was the "Sumpitan," or blow-gun. This the Malay had made, along with a complete set of "sumpits," or arrows, and a quiver to contain them. The sumpitan itself--eight feet in length--he fashioned from a straight sapling of the beautiful _casuarina_ tree, which grows throughout the islands of the Malayan Archipelago; while the little arrows, only eight inches long, he obtained from the medium of the leaflets of the _nibong_ palms, many of which were found near the spot where they had encamped. The pith of the same palm served him for the swell of the arrow, which, being compressible like cork, fills up the tube of the sumpitan, and renders the shaft subject to propulsion from the quick puff of breath which the blow-gun marksman, from long practice, knows how to give it. Saloo had been one of the best sumpitan shooters in all Sumatra, and could send an arrow with true aim a distance of a hundred and fifty yards. But to make its effect deadly at this distance, something more than the mere pricking of the tiny "sumpit" was needed. This something was a strong vegetable poison which he also knew how to prepare; and the upas-tree, that had so nearly proved fatal to all of them, was now called into requisition to effect a friendly service. Drawing upon its sap, and mixing it with that of another poisonous plant--the _bina_-- Saloo gave the points of his sumpits a coating of the combined juices, so that they would carry death into the veins of any animal having the ill-fortune to be pierced by them. Thus armed and equipped, he had little fear on the score of a scarcity of provisions during the journey. On the contrary, he declared himself confident of being able to keep the commissariat up to a point of supply sufficient for the whole party. It may be thought strange that they did not speculate on the chances of arriving at some town or settlement of the natives. Indeed they did so, but only with the thought of avoiding them; for the minds of all--the Malay not excepted--were filled with apprehensions respecting the Dyak and other savage tribes, which report places in the interior of Borneo, and to whom long accredited, though perhaps only imaginative, stories have given a character alike terrible and mysterious. They could think of them only as savages--wild men of the woods--some of them covered with hair, and whose chief delight and glory are the cutting off men's heads, and not unfrequently feasting on men's flesh! No wonder that, with these facts, or fancies, acting upon their imagination, our travellers set forth upon their journey determined to give a wide berth to everything that bore the shape of a human being. It was a strange commentary on man's superiority to the lower animals, and not very creditable to the former, that he himself was the thing they most feared to meet with in the wooded wilderness. And yet, humiliating as the reflection may appear, it depressed the minds of the castaways, as, looking their last upon the bright blue sea, they turned their faces toward the interior of the forest-covered land of Borneo. For the first day they pursued a course leading along the bank of the stream at whose mouth they had been sojourning ever since their arrival on the island. They had more than one reason for keeping to the stream. It seemed to flow in a due easterly direction, and therefore to ascend it would lead them due west--the way they wanted to go. Besides, there was a path along its banks, not made by man, but evidently by large animals; whose tracks, seen here and there in soft places, showed them to be tapirs, wild-boars, and the larger but more rare rhinoceros. They saw none of these animals during their day's journey, though many of the traces were fresh. Generally nocturnal in their habits, the huge pachydermatous creatures that had made them were, during daylight, probably lying asleep in their lairs, amid the thick underwood of the adjacent jungles. The travellers might have brought the pinnace up the river--so far it was deep enough to be navigated by a row-boat; and they had at first thought of doing so. But for several reasons they had changed their minds, and abandoned their boat. It was too heavy to be easily propelled by oars, especially against the current of a stream which in many places was very rapid. Besides, if there should be a settlement of savages on the bank, to approach in a boat would just be the way to expose themselves to being seen, without first seeing. But to Captain Redwood the chief objection was, that a mountain-range rose only a short distance off, and the stream appeared to issue from its steep sloping side; in which case it would soon assume the character of a headlong torrent utterly unfit for navigation. Even had water travel been easier, it could not have been long continued--perhaps not beyond a single day; and it was not deemed worth while to bring the pinnace with them. So thought the captain, and the others agreeing, the boat was left where they had long since concealed her--under the banyan-tree. The captain's conjectures proved correct. The evening of the first day's march brought them to the base of the mountain-ridge, down whose rocky flank the stream poured with the strength and velocity of a torrent. No boat could have further ascended it. As the path leading along its edge, and hitherto comparatively level and smooth, now changed to a difficult ascent up a rough rock-strewn ravine, they encamped at the mountain-foot for the first night of their journey. Next day was spent in ascending the mountain; following the ravine up to its head, where were found the sources of the stream. Staying only for a short noon-tide rest, they kept upward, and reached the highest point of the ridge just as the sun was again sinking into the depths of the forest before them. At their camping-place on the second night no water was near; and they might have suffered from the want of it, had they not taken the precaution to provide against such a deficiency. Their experience as castaways, especially the memory of their sufferings from thirst, had rendered them wary of being again subjected to so terrible a torture. Each of the three men carried a "canteen" strung to his waist--the joint of a large bamboo that held at least half a gallon; while the boy and girl also had their cane canteens, proportioned to their size and strength. All had been filled with cool clear water before leaving the last source of the stream, a supply sufficient to serve during their transit of the dry mountain-ridge. The remainder of that night was spent upon its summit; but as this proved of considerable breadth, and was covered with a thick growth of jungle-trees, it was near sunset the next day before they arrived at the edge of its eastern declivity, and obtained a view of the country beyond. The sun was descending behind the crest of another mountain-ridge, apparently parallel with that upon which they were, and not less than twenty miles distant from it. Between the two extended a valley, or rather a level plain, thickly covered with forest, except where a sheet of water gleamed in the setting sun like a disc of liquid gold. Nor was the plain all level. Here and there, above the wooded surface, rose isolated hills, of rounded mound-like shape, also clothed with timber, but with trees whose foliage, of lighter sheen, showed them to be of species different from those on the plain below. Through a break among the branches of those now shadowing them on the mountain brow, the travellers for some time contemplated the country before them, and across which, upon the morrow, they would have to make their way. At this moment Saloo muttered some words, which, coupled with the expression upon his countenance as he gave utterance to them, alarmed his companions. The words were,-- "It lookee like countly of _mias lombi_. Cappen Ledwad, if dat wild debbel lib in dem wood below, bettel we go all lound. We tly closs it, may be we get eat up. Singapo tiga not so dang'lous as _mias_--he not common kind, but gleat _mias lombi_--what Poltugee people callee `_led golilla_.'" "The _red gorilla_!" ejaculated Captain Redwood. "Is it the _ourang-outang_ you mean?" "Same ting, Sahib cappen. Some call him _oolang-ootang_, some say _led golilla_. One kind belly big--belly bad--he call _mias lombi_. He cally away women, childen; take 'em up into top ob de highest tallee tlee. Nobody know what he do then. Eat 'em up may be. What fol else he want 'em? Ah! Cappen Ledwad, we dlead de oolang-Dyak. He no half dang'lous like oolang-ootang led golilla." Notwithstanding the _patois_ of his speech, what Saloo said was well enough understood by his companions, for in the _led golilla_ or _oolang-ootang_ of his peculiar pronunciation, they recognised the long known and world-renowned ape of Borneo, which, although safe enough when seen inside the cage of the showman, is a creature to be dreaded--at least the species spoken of--when encountered in its native haunts, the forests of Sumatra and Borneo. CHAPTER TWENTY THREE. TOUGH TRAVELLING. Next morning they did not start so early, because the great plain before them was shrouded under a fog, and they waited for it to pass off. It was not dispelled until the sun had risen in the heavens behind them, for their backs were still to the east, their route lying due westward. During the night, and again in the morning, they had discussed the question of striking straight across the plain, or making a circuitous march around it. When the fog at length lifted, this point was definitely settled by what they saw before and on each side of them, that the great valley plain extended both to right and left beyond the limits of their vision. To go round it might add scores of miles and many days to their journey. They could not think of taking such a circuitous route, even with the fear of the wild men before them; a danger Captain Redwood believed to be greatly exaggerated by the Malay, who in such matters was of a somewhat imaginative turn. Throwing aside all thought of such an encounter, they struck down the mountain slope, determined on crossing the plain. It was sunset when they arrived at the mountain-foot, and another night was passed there. On the following morning they commenced the passage of the plain; which introduced them to a very different and much more difficult kind of travelling than any they had experienced since leaving the sea-coast. Some parts of their journey, both in the ascent and descent, had been toilsome enough; but the slopes, as well as the summits, were comparatively clear of underwood. On the low level it was quite another affair. The huge forest-trees were loaded with parasitical creepers, which, stretching from trunk to trunk in all directions, formed here and there an impenetrable net or trellis-work. In such places the kris of Saloo, and the ship's axe carried by Murtagh, were called into requisition, and much time was expended in cutting a way through the tangled growth. Another kind of obstacle was also occasionally met with, in the brakes of bamboo, where these gigantic canes, four or five inches in diameter, and rising to a height of over fifty feet, grew so close together that even a snake would have found difficulty in working its way through them. Fortunately, their stems being hollow, they are easily brought down, and a single stroke from the axe, or even Saloo's sharp kris, given slantingly, would send one of them crashing over, its leafy top bearing along with it the long ribbon-like leaves of many others. One of these cane brakes proved to be upwards of a mile in width, and its passage delayed them at least three hours. They might have attempted to get round it, but they did not know how far it extended. Possibly ten or twenty miles--for the bamboo thickets often run in belts, their growth being due to the presence of some narrow water track, or the course of a stream. In the Indian Archipelago are several species of these tall canes, usually known by the general name of _bamboo_, though differing from each other in size and other respects. They furnish to the inhabitants of these islands the material for almost every article required for their domestic economy--as the various species of palms do to the natives of South America--more especially the denizens of the great Amazon valley. Not only are their houses constructed of bamboo, but the greater portion of their praus; while utensils of many kinds, cups, bottles, and water-casks of the best make, are obtained from its huge joints, cheaply and conveniently. A bare catalogue of bamboo tools and utensils would certainly occupy several pages. Notwithstanding its valuable properties, our travellers hated the sight of it; and more than once the Irishman, as he placed his axe upon the silicious culms, was heard to speak disrespectfully about it, "weeshin' that there wasn't a stalk of the cane in all Burnayo." But another kind of obstruction vexed Murtagh even more than the brakes of bamboo. This was the webs of huge spiders--ugly tarantula-looking animals--whose nets in places, extending from tree to tree, traversed the forest in every direction, resembling the seines of a fishing-village hung out to dry, or miles of musquito-curtain depending from the horizontal branches. Through this strange festoonery they had to make their way, often for hundreds of yards; the soft silky substance clutching disagreeably around their throats and clinging to their clothes till each looked as though clad in an integument of ragged cotton, or the long loose wool of a merino sheep yet unwoven into cloth. And as they forced their way through it--at times requiring strength to extricate them from its tough retentive hold--they could see the hideous forms of the huge spiders who had spun and woven these strangely patterned webs scuttling off, and from their dark retreats in the crevices of the trees looking defiant and angry at the intruders upon their domain--perhaps never before trodden by man. Yet another kind of obstruction our travellers had to encounter on their way across the great plain. There were tracts of moist ground, sometimes covered with tall forest-trees, at others opening out into a sedgy morass, with perhaps a small lake or water-patch in the centre. The first required them to make way through mud, or thick stagnant water covered with scum, often reaching above their knees. These places were especially disagreeable to cross; for under the gloomy shadow of the trees they would now and then catch a glimpse of huge newt-like lizards of the genus _hydrosaurus_--almost as large as crocodiles--slowly floundering out of the way, as if reluctant to leave, and half-determined to dispute the passage. Moreover, while thus occupied, they lived in the obscurity of an eternal twilight, and could travel only by guess-work. They had no guide save the sun, which in these shadows is never visible. Through the thick foliage overhead its disc could not be seen; nor aught that would enable them to determine its position in the sky, and along with it their direction upon the earth. It was, therefore, not only a relief to their feelings, but a positive necessity for their continuance in the right direction, that now and then a stretch of open swamp obstructed their track. True, it caused them to make a detour, and so wasted their time; but then it afforded them a glimpse of the sun's orb, and enabled them to pursue their journey in the right course. During the mid-day hours they were deprived of even this guidance: for the meridian sun gives no clue to the points of the compass. They did not much feel the disadvantage; as at noon-tide the hot tropical atmosphere had become almost insupportable, and the heat, added to their fatigue from incessant toiling through thicket and swamp, made it necessary for them to take several hours of rest. They resumed their journey in the evening, as the sun, declining toward the western horizon, pointed out to them the way they were to go. They aimed to reach the sheet of water seen by them from the brow of the mountain. They wished to strike it at its southern end, as this was right in the direction westward. It appeared to lie about midway between the two mountain-ranges; and, in such a case, would be a proper halting-place on their journey across the plain. On starting from the higher ground, they expected to reach it in a few hours, or at the latest by sunset of that same day. But it was twilight of the third day, when, with exhausted strength and wearied limbs, their clothing torn and mud-stained, they stood upon its nearest shore! They did not stand there long, but dropping down upon the earth, forgetful of everything--even the necessity of keeping watch--they surrendered themselves over to sleep. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR. A RED SATYR. They slept until a late hour of the morning; when, rousing themselves with difficulty, they kindled a fire and cooked a breakfast of the boar's ham cured by them before leaving the coast. It was the second, and of course the last, already becoming rapidly reduced to a "knuckle;" for their journey was now entering upon the second week. They bethought them of making a halt on the bank of the lake; partly to recruit their strength after the long-continued fatigue, and partly, if possible, to replenish their larder. Saloo got ready his blow-gun and poisoned arrows; Captain Redwood looked to his rifle; while the ship-carpenter, whose speciality was fishing, and who for this purpose had brought his hooks and lines along with him, determined on trying what species of the finny tribe frequented the inland lake, in hopes they might prove less shy at biting than their brethren of the sea-coast stream. Again the three men started off, Murtagh traversing in solitude the edge of the lake, while Captain Redwood, with his rifle--accompanied by Saloo, carrying his sumpitan and quiver of poisoned arrows--struck direct into the woods. Henry and Helen remained where they had passed the night, under the shadow of a spreading tree; which, although of a species unknown to the travellers, had been cautiously scrutinised by them, and seemed to be neither a durion nor a upas. They were cautioned not to stir a step from the spot till the others should return. Though in other respects a good, obedient boy, Henry Redwood was not abundantly gifted with prudence. He was a native-born New Yorker, and as such, of course, precocious, courageous, daring, even to a fault--in short, having the heart of a man beating within the breast of a boy. So inspired, when a huge bird, standing even taller than himself on its great stilt-like legs--it was the adjutant stork of India (_ciconia argalia_)--dropped down upon the point of a little peninsula which projected into the lake, he could not resist the temptation of getting a shot at it. Grasping the great ship's musket--part of the paraphernalia they had brought along with them, and which was almost as much as he could stagger under--he started to stalk the great crane, leaving little Helen under the tree. Some reeds growing along the edge of the lake offered a chance by which the game might be approached, and under cover of them he had crept almost within shot of it, when a cry fell upon his ear, thrilling him with a sudden dread. It was the voice of his sister Helen, uttered in tones of alarm? Turning suddenly, he wondered not that her cries were continued in the wildest terror, mingled with convulsive ejaculations. A man had drawn near her, and oh! such a man! Never in all his experience, nor in his darkest and most distorted dreams, had he seen, or dreamt of, a human being so hideous, as that he now saw, half-standing, half-crouching, only a short distance from his sister's resting-place. It was a man who, if he had only been in an erect attitude, would have stood at least eight feet in height, and this would have been in an under-proportion to the size of his head, the massive breadth of his body across the breast and shoulders, and the length of his arms. But it was not his gigantic size which made him so terrible, or which electrified the heart of the boy, at a safe distance, as it had done that of the girl, nearer and in more danger. It was the _tout ensemble_ of this strange creature in human shape--a man apparently covered all over with red hair, thick and shaggy, as upon the skin of a wolf or bear; bright red over the body and limbs, and blacker upon the face, where it was thinnest--a creature, in short, such as neither boy nor girl had ever before seen, and such as was long believed to exist only in the imagination of the ancients, under the appellation of "satyr." CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. SILENCE RESTORED. At first sight of the brute, notwithstanding its strangely monstrous appearance, Henry had really mistaken it for a man; but a moment's reflection convinced him that he was looking upon an ape instead of a man, and one of such gigantic size as to make him certain it must be the animal spoken of by Saloo under the various appellations of _mias rombi_, _ourang-outang_, and _red gorilla_. Saloo's remarks concerning this ape, and his emphatic warnings, were not at all pleasant to be now recalled. Though brave as a young lion, he looked upon the shaggy monster with fear and trembling. Far less for himself than for his sister; who, being nearer to it, was, of course, in greater peril of an attack. This, indeed, seemed imminent, and his first thought was to rush to the spot and discharge his musket into the monster's face. He was restrained only by seeing that Helen, moved by an instinct of self-preservation, had made an effort to save herself by gliding round the trunk of the tree, and seeking concealment on its opposite side. At the same time she had prudently ceased her cries; and as the animal did not show any intention of following her, but rather seemed inclined to keep toward the edge of the lake, the boy bethought him that his best course would be not to discharge his musket until the ape should make some hostile demonstration. Saloo had told them that the brute is not always disposed to commence the attack upon man. If left alone, it will go its own way, except during certain seasons, when the females are fearful for their young offspring. Then they will assail every intruder that comes near, whether man or animal. But when wounded or enraged they will not only act on the defensive, but attack their enemies in the most spiteful and implacable manner. Remembering these things, and hoping the huge creature might take a peaceful departure from the place, Henry, who had already held his musket at the level, lowered its muzzle, at the same time dropping upon his knees among some tall grass, which, in this attitude, tolerably well concealed him. He soon saw that he had acted wisely. The hairy monster seemed altogether to ignore the presence of his sister and himself; and as if neither were within a thousand miles of the spot, kept on its course toward the margin of the water. Fortunately for Henry, it went quite another way, which, widening diagonally, did not bring the creature at all near him. It was evidently directing its course toward some liliaceous plants with large succulent stems, which formed a patch or bed, standing in the water, but close to the brink of the lake. In all probability there was not enough fruit in the neighbourhood to satisfy the hirsute gentleman now passing before their eyes; or else he had a fancy to vary his diet by making a meal upon simple vegetables. He soon reached the patch of tall water-plants; waded in nearly knee-deep; and then with arms, each of which had the sweep of a mower's scythe, drew in their heads toward him, and with a mouth wide as that of a hippopotamus, cropped off the succulent shoots and flower-stems, and munched them like an ox in the act of chewing its cud. Seeing the huge hairy creature thus peaceably disposed, and hoping it would for some time continue in this harmless disposition, Henry rose from his kneeling attitude, and glided silently, but swiftly, toward the tree. Joining his sister Helen, he flung his arms around her as he rose erect, and kissed her to chase away the effects of the terrible fright she had sustained. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. IN FEAR AND TREMBLING. The kiss which Henry gave his little sister was not one of congratulation. He was not yet sure of her safety, or of his own. The hairy monster was still in sight--not more than a hundred yards off--and though apparently busy with his banquet on the tender shoots of the water-plants, might at any moment discontinue it, and spring upon them. What was the best thing to be done in order to escape him? Run off into the forest, and try to find their father and Saloo? They might go the wrong way, and by so doing make things worse. The great ape itself would soon be returning among the trees, and might meet them in the teeth; there would then be no chance of avoiding an encounter. To go after Murtagh would be an equally doubtful proceeding; they were ignorant of the direction the ship-carpenter had taken. Young as they were, a moment's reflection admonished them not to stir from the spot. But what, then? Cry out, so that the absent ones might hear them? No; for this might also attract the attention of the ourang-outang, and bring it upon them. Besides, Helen had shrieked loudly on the first alarm. If any of the hunters had been within hearing, they would have needed no further signal to tell them that some danger threatened her. If not within hearing, it would be worse than idle for either of them to cry out again. They determined, therefore, to remain silent, and keep to their position, in the hope that either their father, the Malay, or Murtagh, might come to their speedy relief. But they were prudent enough not to expose themselves to any wandering glance of the red gorilla's. The moment Henry had joined his sister he had hurried her behind the trunk of the tree, and they were now on the side facing toward the forest. There, by looking through the leaves of some orchideous creepers that wreathed the great stem, they could see the dreaded creature without being seen by it. Hand in hand, still trembling, they stood silently and cautiously regarding the gorilla and its movements. Under other and safer circumstances it would have been a curious and interesting spectacle: this gigantic, human-like ape, stretching forth its hairy arms, each full four feet in length--gathering in the heads of the tall water-plants, and munching them in great mouthfuls, then letting the stalks go and sweeping round to collect a fresh sheaf, at intervals wading a pace or two to reach some that were more tempting to its taste. For several minutes they remained looking at this rare sight, which would have absorbed the attention of the spectators could it have been witnessed in a menagerie. But they regarded it with fear and awe. Their eyes and ears were at the same time more occupied in looking and listening for some sign that might veil them of the return of their protectors. Time passed; none was seen, none heard. A long time passed, and no sound from the forest; no murmur of men's voices, or cry of scared bird, to proclaim that any one was approaching the spot. The brute was still browsing, but with less apparent voracity. He drew the shoots toward him with a gentler sweep of his arms, selecting only the most succulent. His appetite was on the wane; it was evident he would soon leave off eating and return to his roosting or resting-place. In the forest, of course, though they knew not where. It might be on the tree over their heads, or on one close at hand; or it might be afar off. In any case, they felt that a crisis was approaching. Both trembled, as they thought how soon they might be face to face with the hideous creature--confronting it, or perhaps enfolded in its long hairy arms. And in such an embrace, how would it fare with them? What chance of escape from it? None! They would be crushed, helpless as flies in the grasp of a gigantic spider. If the creature should come that way, and resolve upon assailing them, one or other, or both of them, would surely be destroyed. If only one, Henry had fully made up his mind who it should be. The brave boy had determined to sacrifice his own life, if need be, to save his sister. Firmly grasping the great musket, he said:-- "Sister Nell, if it come this way and offer to attack us, you keep out of the scrape. Leave everything to me. Go a good way off when you see me preparing to fire. I shan't draw trigger till it is close up to the muzzle of the gun. Then there'll be no fear of missing it. To miss would only make it all the madder. Saloo said so. If the shot shouldn't kill it right off, don't mind me. The report may be heard, and bring father or some of the others to our assistance. Dear sis, no matter what happens, keep out of the way, and wait till they come up. Promise me you will do so!" "Henry! I will not leave you. Dear, dear brother, if you should be killed I would not care to live longer. Henry! I will die with you!" "Don't talk that way, sis. I'm not going to be killed; for I fancy that we can run faster than it can. It don't appear to make much speed--at least along the ground; and I think we might both escape it if we only knew which way it was going to take. At any rate, you do as I say, and leave the rest to me." While they were thus discussing the course to be pursued--Henry urging his sister to retreat in the event of his being attacked, and Helen tearfully protesting against leaving him--a movement on the part of the mias claimed all their attention. It was not a movement indicating any design to leave the spot where it had been browsing; but rather a start, as if something caused it a surprise. The start was quickly followed by a gesture, not of alarm, but one that plainly betokened anger. Indeed, it spoke audibly of this, being accompanied by a fierce growl, and succeeded by a series of hoarse barkings, just like those of a bull-dog or angry mastiff, whose mouth, confined in a muzzle, hinders him from giving full vent to his anger. At the same time, instead of rising erect, as a human being under similar circumstances would have done, the frightful ape, that had been already in the most upright position possible to it, dropped down upon all fours, which still, however, from the great length of its arms, enabled it to preserve a semi-erect attitude. With its huge cheek callosities puffed out beyond their natural dimensions--(they far exceed a foot in breadth)--its crested hair thrown forward in a stiff coronal ruff; underneath a pair of eyes, gleaming like two coals of fire, and, further down, its mouth wide agape, displaying two rows of great glistening teeth, it stood--or rather crouched--as if awaiting for the onset of some well-known enemy; a dangerous enemy, but yet not so dangerous that it need be avoided. On the contrary, the attitude now assumed by the red gorilla, as also its voice and gestures, told them that it was affected by no fear, but breathed only fury and defiance. Why should it fear? Was there any living thing in the forests of Borneo--biped, quadruped, or reptile possessed of sufficient powers to cope with the hairy colossus now before their eyes, which seemed to partake of the characters of all three, and twice the strength of any of them individually? Saloo had said there was none. But it was not from the forests of Borneo its enemy was to come. Out of its waters was approaching the antagonist that had caused it to assume its attitude of angry defiance; and the spectators now saw this antagonist in the shape of an enormous lizard--a crocodile larger than they had ever seen before. CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN. A SPECTACLE RARELY SEEN. When the huge reptile first unfolded itself to their view, it was already close to the spot where the ourang-outang, knee-deep in the water, stood awaiting it. They naturally expected to see the land animal effect a retreat from an antagonist even more formidable-looking than itself. And in reality it did give ground at first; but only for a few long scrambling strides, made as much on its arms as legs--just far enough to place itself high and dry upon the bank. There it came to a stop, and stood firmly facing the foe. They now perceived the truth of what Saloo had been telling them: that there is no animal in all Borneo, either in its forests or its rivers, of which the mias feels fear. Certainly there is none more to be dreaded than the gavial crocodile; yet the great ape, judging by its present attitude, was in no sense afraid of it. Had it been so, it would have retreated into the woods, where, by climbing a tree, it might easily have shunned the encounter. Even if it had retired a little upon _terra firma_, the amphibious animal would not have thought of following it, and it could at once have avoided the conflict, if desirous of doing so. On the contrary, it seemed rather to court it; for not only did it take a firm stand on the approach of the saurian, but continued to emit its hoarse cough and bark, which, as we have said before, closely resembled the growlings of an angry mastiff with his jaws held half-shut by the straps of a muzzle. At the same time it struck the ground repeatedly with its fore-paws, tearing up grass and weeds, and flinging them spitefully toward the crocodile, and into its very teeth, as if provoking the latter to the attack. Undismayed, the scaly reptile continued to advance. Neither the strange noises nor the violent gesticulations of its four-handed enemy seemed to have any effect upon it. To all appearance, nothing could terrify the gigantic saurian. Confident in its great size and strength--above all, in the thick impenetrable skin that covered its body like a coat of shale armour--conscious of being so defended, the crocodile also believed that there was no living thing in all the land of Borneo, or in its waters either, that could withstand its terrible onslaught. It therefore advanced to the attack with no idea of danger to itself, but only the thought of seizing upon the half-crouching, half-upright form that had intruded upon its domain, and which possibly appeared to it only a weak human being--a poor Dyak, like some of its former victims. In this respect it was woefully deceiving itself; and the slight retreat made by the mias toward the dry land no doubt further misled its assailant. The reptile paused for a moment, lest the retreat should be continued, at the same time sinking its body beneath the water as low as the depth would allow. Remaining motionless for a few seconds, and seeing that its victim was not only not going any further, but maintained its defiant attitude, the gavial crawled silently and cautiously on till the reeds no longer concealed it. Then suddenly rising on its strong fore-arms, it bounded forward--aiding the movement by a stroke of its immense tail--and launched the whole length of its body on the bank, its huge jaws flying agape as they came in contact with the shaggy skin of its intended prey. For an instant of time its snout was actually buried in the long red hair of the gorilla, and the spectators expected to see the latter grasped between its jaws and dragged into the lake. They were even congratulating themselves on the chance of thus getting rid of it, when a movement on the part of the mias warned them they were not to be so conveniently disembarrassed of its dangerous proximity. That movement was a leap partly to one side, and partly upward into the air. It sprang so high as completely to clear the head of its assailant, and so far horizontally, that when it came to the ground again, it was along the extended body of the crocodile, midway between its head and its tail. Before the unwieldy reptile could turn to confront it, the ape made a second spring, this time alighting upon the gavial's back, just behind his shoulders. There straddling, and taking a firm hold with its thick short legs, it threw its long arms forward over the crocodile's shoulder-blades, as with the intent to throttle it. And now commenced a struggle between the two monstrous creatures--a conflict strange and terrible--such as could only be seen in the depths of a Bornean or Sumatran forest, in the midst of those wild solitudes where man rarely makes his way. And even in such scenes but rarely witnessed; and only by the lone Dyak hunter straying along the banks of some solitary stream, or threading the mazes of the jungle-grown swamp or lagoon. On the part of the crocodile the strife consisted simply in a series of endeavours to dismount the hairy rider who clung like a saddle to its back. To effect this purpose, it made every effort in its power; turning about upon its belly as upon a pivot; snapping its jaws till they cracked like pistol shots; lashing the ground with its long vertebrated tail, till the grass and weeds were swept off as if cut with the blade of a scythe; twisting and wriggling in every possible direction. All to no purpose. The ape held on as firmly as a Mexican to a restive mule, one of its fore-arms clutching the shoulder-blade of the reptile, while the other was constantly oscillating in the air, as if searching for something to seize upon. For what purpose it did this, the spectators could not at first tell, it was not long, however, before they discovered its intention. All at once the disengaged arm made a long clutch forward and grasped the upper jaw of the gavial. During the struggle this had been frequently wide agape, almost pointing vertically upward, as is customary with reptiles of the lizard kind, the singular conformation of the cervical vertebrae enabling them to open their jaws thus widely. One might have supposed that, in thus taking hold, the gorilla had got its hand into a terrible trap, and that in another instant its fingers would be caught between the quickly-closing teeth of the saurian, and snapped off like pipe-stems, or the tender shoots of a head of celery. The inexperienced and youthful spectators expected some such result; but not so the cunning old man-monkey, who knew what he was about; for, once he had gained a good hold upon the upper jaw, at its narrowest part, near the snout, he made up his mind that those bony counterparts, now asunder, should never come together again. To make quite sure of this, he bent himself to the last supreme effort. Supporting his knees firmly against the shoulders of the saurian, and bending his thick muscular arms to the extent of their great strength, he was seen to give one grand wrench. There was a crashing sound, as of a tree torn from its roots, followed by a spasmodic struggle; then the hideous reptile lay extended along the earth, still writhing its body and flirting its tail. The red gorilla saw that it had accomplished its task; victory was achieved, the danger over, and the hated enemy lay helpless, almost nerveless, in its hairy embrace. At length, detaching itself from the scaly creature, whose struggles each moment grew feebler and feebler, it sprang to one side, squatted itself on its haunches, and with a hoarse laughter, that resembled the horrid yell of a maniac, triumphantly contemplated the ruin of its prostrate foe! CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. STILL TRUSTING IN GOD. The reader may suppose the strange conflict we have described to be a thing of the author's imagination. Some will, no doubt, pronounce it a story of the sensational and fabulous kind--in short, a "sailor's yarn." So may it seem to those who give but little attention to the study of nature. To the naturalist, however, this chapter of animal life and habits will cause no astonishment; for he will know it to be a true one; and that the spectacle described, although perhaps not one coming every day under the eye of man, and especially civilised man, has nevertheless been witnessed by the inhabitants of the recesses of the Bornean forest. Ask any old Bornean bee-hunter, and he will tell you just such a tale as the above; adding that the ourang-outang, or red gorilla, which he calls _mias_, is a match, and more than a match, for any animal it may encounter in forest or jungle; and that the only two creatures which dare attack it are the crocodile and the great _ular_ or _python_, the latter a serpent of the boa-constructor kind, with one of which our castaways had already formed acquaintance. But the Bornean bee-hunter, usually a Dyak, will also tell you that in these conflicts the red gorilla is the victor, though each of the two great reptile antagonists that attack it is often thirty feet in length, with a girth almost equalling its own. Only fancy a snake ten yards long, and a lizard the same; either of which would reach from end to end of the largest room in which you may be seated, or across the street in which you may be walking! You will seldom find such specimens in our museums; for they are not often encountered by our naturalists or secured by our travellers. But take my word for it, there are such serpents and such lizards in existence, ay, and much larger ones. They may be found not only in the tropical isles of the Orient, but in the Western world, in the lagoons and forests of Equatorial America. Many of the "sailors' yarns" of past times, which we have been accustomed so flippantly to discredit, on account of their appearing rather tough, have under the light of recent scientific exploration been proved true. And although some of them may seem to be incorporated in this narrative, under the guise of mere romance, the reader need not on this account think himself misled, or treat them with sublime contempt. If it should ever be his fate or fortune to make a tour through the East Indian Archipelago, he will cease to be incredulous. Henry Redwood and his sister Helen had no such tranquil reflections, as they stood under the shadow of the great tree, concealing themselves behind its trunk, and watching the terrible conflict between the two huge creatures, both in their eyes equally hideous. Giving way to an instinct of justice, they would have taken sides with the party assailed and against the assailant. But, under the circumstances, their leanings were the very reverse; for in the triumphant conqueror they saw a continuance of their own danger; whereas, had the amphibious animal been victorious, this would have been at an end. The strife now terminated, they stood trembling and uncertain as ever. The crocodile, although crushed, and no longer dangerous for any offensive manoeuvre, was not killed. Its body still writhed and wriggled upon the ground; though its movements were but the agonised efforts of mortal pain, excited convulsively and each moment becoming feebler. And the red gorilla stood near, squatted on its haunches; at intervals tossing its long hairy arms around its head, and giving utterance to that strange coughing laughter, as if it would never leave off exulting over the victory it had achieved. How long was this spectacle to last? It was sufficiently horrid for the spectators to desire its speedy termination. And yet they did not; they were in hopes it might continue till a voice coming from the forest, or the tread of a foot, would tell them that help was near. Tremblingly but attentively they listened. They heard neither one nor the other--neither voice nor footstep. Now and then came the note of a bird or the cry of some four-footed creature prowling through the glades; but not uttered in accents of alarm. The hunters must have wandered far in their search for game. They might not return in time. Again Henry bethought him of firing the musket to give them a signal. But even if heard, it might not have this effect. They knew that he was able to hold and handle the great gun, and might think some bird or animal had come near and tempted him to take a shot at it. On the other hand, the report would strike upon the ears of the mias, might distract it from the triumph in which it was indulging, and bring it to the spot where they were standing. Then, with an empty gun in his hand, what defence could the youth make, either for himself or for his sister? To fire the gun would never do. Better leave the trigger unpulled, and trust to Providence for protection. And then, as the brave boy reflected on the many dangers through which they had passed, and how they had always been delivered by some fortunate interposition, he knew it must be the hand of Providence, and was content to rely upon it again. He said so to his little sister, whispering consolation, as with one hand he drew her close to him, the other resting upon the musket. And Helen whispered back a pious response, as she nestled upon the breast of her brother. A moment more, and the faith of both was submitted to a severe trial. The red gorilla, after gloating for a long time over the agonised contortions of its disabled enemy, seemed at length satisfied that it was disabled to death, and facing toward the forest, showed signs of an intention to take its departure from the spot. Now came the crisis for Henry and Helen. Which way would the animal take? They had not time to exchange question and answer--scarce time even to shape them in their thoughts--when they saw the red satyr turn to the tree behind which they were standing, and come directly toward them. CHAPTER TWENTY NINE. A CAPTIVE CARRIED ALOFT. "We are lost!" were the words that rushed from Henry Redwood's lips. They came involuntarily; for, as soon as said, he regretted them, seeing how much they added to the alarm of his sister. It was a crisis in which she needed rather to be inspired to confidence by words of encouragement. They were said, however, and he could not recall them. He had no time to speak of anything, or to think of what course they should now pursue. Coming straight toward the tree with an awkward, shambling, but speedy gait withal, the monster would soon reach the spot where they stood. Its movements showed it to be in a state of excitement--the natural consequence of its late conflict with the crocodile. If seen, they would come in for a share of its anger, already roused. If seen! They were almost sure of being seen. They were endeavouring to avoid it by keeping on the other side of the tree, and screening themselves among the parasitical plants. But the concealment was slight, and would not avail them if the animal should pass the trunk and look around after passing. And now it was making straight for the tree, apparently with the design of ascending it. At this crisis Henry once more bethought him of running away and taking Helen with him. He now regretted not having done so sooner. Even to be lost in the forest would have been a less danger than that which now threatened them. A glance told him it would be too late. There was an open space beyond and all around the trunk behind which they had taken shelter. Should they attempt to escape, the ape would be certain of seeing them before they could get under cover of the woods, and, as they supposed, might easily overtake them in their flight. Another tree was near, connecting that under which they stood with the adjoining forest. But it was in a side direction, and they would be seen before reaching it. There was no alternative but to risk a chase, or stay where they were, and take the chances of not being seen by the horrid creature that was approaching. They chose the latter. Silently they stood, hands clasped and close to the stem of the tree, on the side opposite to that on which the gorilla was advancing. They no longer saw it; for now they dared not look around the trunk, or even peep through the leaves of the orchids, lest their faces might betray them. After all, the ape might pass into the forest without observing them. If it did, the danger would be at an end; if not, the brave boy had summoned up all his energies to meet and grapple with it. He held the loaded musket in his hand, ready at a moment's notice to raise it to the level and fire into the face of the red-haired satyr. They waited in breathless silence, though each could hear the beating of the other's heart. It was torture to stand thus uncertain; and, as if to continue it, the animal was a long time in getting to the tree. Had it stopped, or turned off some other way? Henry was tempted to peep round the trunk and satisfy himself. He was about to do this, when a scratching on the other side fell upon their ears. It was the claws of the mias rasping against the bark. The next moment the sound seemed higher up, and they were made aware that the creature was ascending the tree. Henry was already congratulating himself on this event. The ape might go up without seeing them; and as the tree was a very tall one, with a thick head of foliage and matted creepers, once among these, it might no longer think of looking down. Then they could steal away unobserved, and, keeping at a safe distance, await the return of the hunters. At this moment, however, an incident arose that interfered with this desirable programme, in an instant changing the position of everything that promised so well into a sad and terrible catastrophe. It was Murtagh who caused, though innocently, the lamentable diversion. The ship-carpenter, returning from his excursion, had just stumbled upon the crocodile where it lay upon the shore of the lake, which, though helpless to return to its proper element, was not yet dead. With jaw torn and dislocated, it was still twisting its body about in the last throes of the death-struggle. Not able to account for the spectacle of ruin thus presented, it caused the Irishman much surprise, not unmingled with alarm--the latter increasing as he looked towards the tree where Henry and Helen had been left, and saw they were no longer there. Had he prudently held his peace, perhaps all might have been well; but, catching sight of the huge hairy monster ascending the trunk, the thought flashed across his mind that the young people had been already destroyed, perhaps devoured, by it; and, giving way to this terrible fancy, he uttered a dread cry of despair. It was the worst thing he could have done; for, despite the discouraging tone of his voice, it seemed joyful to those crouching in concealment; and, yielding to an instinct that they were now saved by the presence of a stanch protector, they rushed from their ambuscade, and in so doing discovered themselves to the ourang-outang. Its eyes were upon them--dark, demon-like orbs, that seemed to scintillate sparks of fire. The gorilla had only gone up the trunk to a height of about twenty feet, when the cry of the alarmed ship-carpenter brought its ascent to a sudden stop; then, bringing its body half round, and looking below, it saw the children. As if connecting them with the enemy it had just conquered, its angry passions seemed to rekindle; and once more giving utterance to that strange barking cough, it glided down the tree, and made direct for the one who was nearest. As ill luck would have it, this chanced to be the little Helen, altogether defenceless and unarmed. Murtagh, still shouting, rushed to the rescue; while Henry, with his musket raised to his shoulder, endeavoured to get between the ape and its intended victim, so that he could fire right into the face of the assailant, without endangering the life of his sister. He would have been in time had the gun proved true, which it did not. It was an old flint musket, and the priming had got damp during their journey through the moist tropical forest. As he pulled trigger, there was not even a flash in the pan; and although he instinctively grasped the gun by its barrel, and, using it as a club, commenced belabouring the hairy giant over the head, his blows were of no more avail than if directed against the trunk of the tree itself. Once, twice, three times the butt of the gun descended upon the skull of the satyr, protected by its thick shock of coarse red hair; but before a fourth blow could be given, the ape threw out one of its immense arms, and carrying it round in a rapid sweep, caught the form of the girl in its embrace, and then, close hugging her against its hairy breast, commenced reascending the tree. Shouts and shrieks were of no avail to detain the horrid abductor. Nor yet the boy's strength, exerted to its utmost. His strength alone; for Murtagh was not yet up. Henry seized the gorilla's leg, and clung to it as long as ever he could. He was dragged several feet up the trunk; but a kick from the gorilla shook him off, and he fell, stunned and almost senseless, to the earth. CHAPTER THIRTY. WHAT WILL BECOME OF HER? It would be impossible to paint the despair that wrung her brother's heart, as he stood with upturned face and eyes bent upon a scene in which he had no longer the power to take part. Not much less intense was the agonised emotion of Murtagh; for little Helen was almost as dear to the Irishman as if she had been his own daughter. Neither could have any other thought than that the child was lost beyond hope of recovery. She would either be torn to pieces by the claws of the monster, or by its great yellow teeth, already displayed to their view, and flung in mangled fragments to the ground. They actually stood for some time in expectation of seeing this sad catastrophe; and it would be vain to attempt any description of their emotions. It was no relief when the two hunters came up, as they did at that instant, on their return from the chase. Their approach for the last two or three hundred yards had been hastened into a run by the shrieks of Helen and the shouts of Henry and Murtagh. Their arrival only added two new figures to the tableau of distress, and two voices to its expression. The ape could still be seen through the foliage ascending to the top of the tree; but Captain Redwood felt that the rifle he held in his hands, though sure of aim and fatal in effect, was of no more use than if it had been a piece of wood. Saloo had the same feeling in regard to his blow-gun. The rifle might send a deadly bullet through the skull of the gorilla, and the latter pierce its body with an arrow that would carry a quick-spreading poison through its veins. But to what purpose, even though they could be certain of killing it? Its death would be also the death of the child. She was still living, and apparently unhurt; for they could see her moving, and hear her voice, as she was carried onward and upward in that horrible embrace. Captain Redwood dared not send a bullet nor Saloo an arrow. Slight as the chances were of saving the girl, either would have made them slighter. A successful shot of the rifle or puff of the blow-gun would be as fatal to the abducted as the abductor; and the former, with or without the latter, would be certain to fall to the foot of the tree. It was a hundred feet sheer from the point which the ape had attained to the ground. The child would not only be killed, but crushed to a shapeless mass. Ah me! what a terrible scene for her father! What a spectacle for him to contemplate! And as he stood in unutterable agony, his companions gathered around, all helpless and irresolute as to how they should act, they saw the ape suddenly change his direction, and move outward from the trunk of the tree along one of its largest limbs. This trended off in a nearly horizontal direction, at its end interlocking with a limb of the neighbouring tree, which stretched out as if to shake hands with it. A distance of more than fifty feet lay between the two trunks, but their branches met in close embrace. The purpose of the ape was apparent. It designed passing from one to the other, and thence into the depths of the forest. The design was quickly followed by its execution. As the spectators rushed to the side by which the gorilla was retreating, they saw it lay hold of the interlocking twigs, draw the branch nearer, bridge the space between with its long straggling arm, and then bound from one to the other with the agility of a squirrel. And this with the use of only one arm, for by the other the child was still carried in the same close hug. Its legs acted as arms, and for travelling through the tree-tops three were sufficient. On into the heart of the deep foliage of the second tree, and without a pause on into the next; along another pair of counterpart limbs, which, intertwining their leafy sprays and boughs, still further into the forest, all the time bearing its precious burden along with it. The agonised father ran below, rifle in hand. He might as well have been without one, for all the use he dared to make of it. And Henry, too, followed with the ship's musket. True, it had missed fire, and the damp priming was still in the pan. Damp or dry, it now mattered not. Saloo's sumpitan was an equally ineffective weapon. Murtagh with his fishing-hooks might as well have thought of capturing the monster with a bait. On it scrambled from tree to tree, and on ran the pursuers underneath, yet with no thought of being able to stay its course. They were carried forward by the mere mechanical instinct to keep it in sight, with perhaps some slight hope that in the end something might occur--some interruption might arise by which they would be enabled to effect a rescue of the child from its horrible captor. It was at best but a faint consolation. Nor would they have cherished it, but for their trust in a higher power than their own. Of themselves they knew they could not let or hinder the abductor in its flight. All felt their own helplessness. But it is just in that supreme moment, when man feels his utter weakness, that his vague trust in a superior Being becomes a devout and perfect faith. Captain Redwood was not what is usually called a religious man, meaning thereby a strict adherent to the Church, and a regular observer of its ordinances. For all this he was a firm believer in the existence of a providential and protecting power. His exclamations were many, and not very coherent; but their burden was ever a prayer to God for the preservation of his daughter. "Helen, my child! Helen! What will become of her? O Father! O God, protect her!" CHAPTER THIRTY ONE. THE PURSUIT ARRESTED. From branch to branch, and tree to tree, the red gorilla continued its swift advance; still bearing with it the little Helen. From trunk to trunk, the pursuers crawled through the underwood beneath, feeling as helpless as ever. What was to be the end of this strangely singular pursuit they could not tell, for they had never before--and perhaps no man at any time had-- taken part in such a chase, or even heard of one so terrible. They could offer no conjecture as to what might be its termination; but moved forward mechanically, keeping the gorilla in sight. Was Helen yet living, or was she dead? No cry came from her lips, no word, no sound! Had the life been crushed out of her body by the pressure of that strong muscular arm, twined round her like the limb of an oak? Or was the silence due to temporary loss of feeling? She might well have swooned away in such a situation; and her father, struggling with faint hopes, would have been glad to think this was indeed the case. No signs could be gained from what they heard, and none from what they saw. They were now passing through the very depth of the forest--a tropical forest, with the trees meeting overhead, and not a speck of sky visible through the interwoven branches, loaded with their thick festoons of leaves and lianas. They were gliding through dense arcades, lit up with just sufficient sunshine to wear the sombre shadows of a dusky twilight. There were even places where the retreating form of the ape could not have been distinguishable in the obscurity, but for the white drapery of the child's dress, now torn into shreds, and flaunting like streamers behind it. These luckily served as a beacon to guide them on through the gloom. Now and then the chase led them into less shady depths, where the sunlight fell more freely through the leafy screen above. At such points they could obtain a better view, both of the red abductor and its captive. But even then only a glimpse--the speed at which the gorilla was going, as well as the foliage that intervened, preventing any lengthened observation. Nor were the pursuers at any time able to get sight of the child's face. It appeared to be turned toward the animal's breast, her head buried in its coarse shaggy hair, with which her own tresses were mingled in strange contrast. Even her form could not be clearly distinguished. As far as they could decide by their occasional glimpses, they thought she was still alive. The brute did not seem to treat her with any malevolent violence. Only in a rude uncouth way; which, however, might suffice to cause the death of one so young and frail. To depict the feelings of her father, under such circumstances, would be a task the most eloquent pen could not successfully attempt. Agony like his can never be described. Language possesses not the power. There are thoughts which lie too deep for words; passions whose expression defies the genius of the artist or the poet. Perhaps he was hindered from realising the full measure of his bereavement during the first moments of the pursuit. The excitement of the chase, and the incidents attending it--the hope still remaining that some chance would arise in their favour--the certainty, soon ascertained, that they could keep up with the ape, which, despite its agility in the trees, cannot outstrip a man pursuing it along the ground,--all these circumstances had hitherto withheld him from giving way to utter despair. But the time had come when even these slight supports were to fail. It was when they arrived upon the brink of a lagoon, and a water-surface gleamed before their eyes; reflected by a daylight that struggled dimly down through the tops of the tall trees. The trees rose out of the water, their trunks wide apart, but their branches intermingling. The path of our pursuers was interrupted--they saw it at once--but that of the pursued seemed continuous as before. They were arrested suddenly on the brink of the lagoon, apparently with no chance of proceeding farther. They saw the red gorilla still climbing among the trees, with the white drapery streaming behind it. Soon they saw it not--only heard the crackle of twigs, and the swishing recoil of the branches, as its huge body swung from tree to tree. The monster was now out of sight, along with its victim--a victim, in very truth, whether living or dead! But for the support of Murtagh and Saloo, Captain Redwood would have fallen to the earth. In their arms he sobbed and gasped,-- "Helen! my child, Helen! What will become of her? O Father! O God, protect her!" CHAPTER THIRTY TWO. LISTENING IN DESPAIR. For some seconds Captain Redwood was powerless in a frenzy of despair. Henry was equally overcome by grief truly agonising. It was to both father and son a moment of the most unutterable anguish. Helen, the dear daughter and sister, carried out of their sight, apparently beyond reach of pursuit. And in the arms of a hideous creature which was neither wholly man nor wholly beast, but combined the worst attributes of each. Perhaps she was already dead within the loathsome embrace--her tender body soon to be torn to pieces, or tossed from the top of some tall tree; to be crushed and mangled on the earth, or thrown with a plunge into the cold dark waters of that dismal lagoon, never more to be seen or heard of. These were horrid thoughts and hideous images which rushed rapidly through their minds as they stood in the sombre shadow, picturing to themselves her too probable fate. It was no longer a question about her life. They knew, or believed, her to be dead. They only thought of what was to become of her body; what chance there might be of recovering and giving it the sacred rights of sepulture. Even this slight consolation occupied the mind of the distracted father. The Malay, well acquainted with the habits of the great man-ape, could give no answer. He only knew that the child's body would not be eaten up by it; since the red gorilla is never known to feed upon flesh--fruit and vegetables being its only diet. The whole thing was perplexing him, as an occurrence altogether unusual. He had known of people being killed and torn to pieces by the animal in its anger; but never of one being carried up into the trees. Usually these animals will not volunteer an attack upon man, and are only violent when assailed. Then, indeed, are they terrible in their strength as in their ferocity. The one now encountered must have been infuriated by its fight with the crocodile; and coming straight from the encounter, had in some way connected the children with its conquered enemy. Murtagh's shout might have freshly incensed it; or, what to Saloo seemed more probable than all, the seizure of the child might be a wild freak suddenly striking the brain of the enraged satyr. He had heard of such eccentricities on the part of the ourang-outang, and there is a belief among the Dyak hunters that the mias sometimes goes _mad_, just as men do. This reasoning did not take place on the edge of the lagoon, nor any discussion of such questions. They were thoughts that had been expressed during the pursuit, at no time hurried. The captain and his companions had easily kept pace with the pursued, while passing through the dry forest; and time enough was allowed them to think and talk of many things. Now that they could no longer follow, scarce a word was exchanged between them. Their emotions were too sad for utterance, otherwise than by exclamations which spoke only of despair. It was well they were silent, for it gave Saloo the opportunity of listening. Ever since the ape had passed from their sight, his ear had been keenly anxious to catch every sound, as he still entertained a hope of being able to trace its passage through the trees. Thoroughly conversant with the animal's habits, he knew that it must have an abiding-place--a nest. This might be near at hand. The proximity of the lagoon almost convinced him that it was so. The mias makes a temporary roost for his repose anywhere it may be wandering--constructing it in a few moments, by breaking off the branches and laying them crosswise on a forked limb; but Saloo was aware that, for its permanent residence, it builds a much more elaborate nest, and this, too, always over water or marshy ground, where its human enemy cannot conveniently follow it. Moreover, it chooses for the site of its dwelling a low tree or bush with umbrageous boughs, and never retires among the taller trees of the forest. This it does to avoid exposure to the chill winds, and the inconvenience of being shaken to and fro during storms or typhoons. With all this knowledge in his memory, the Malay had conceived a hope that the monster's nest might not be far off, and they would still be able to follow and find it--not to rescue the living child, but recover her dead body. Keenly and attentively he listened to every sound that came back through the water-forest--cautioning the others to be silent. A caution scarce needed, for they too stood listening, still as death, with hushed voices, and hearts only heard in their dull sad beatings. But for a short time were they thus occupied; altogether not more than five minutes. They still detected the crackling of branches which indicated the passage of the ape through the tree-tops. All at once these sounds suddenly ceased, or rather were they drowned out by sounds louder and of a very different intonation. It was a chorus of cries, in which barking, grunting, growling, coughing, cachinnation and the squalling of children seemed all to have a share. There were evidently more than one individual contributing to this strange _fracas_ of the forest; and the noises continued to come apparently from the same place. "Allah be thank!" exclaimed Saloo, in a subdued tone. "He home at lass. Him family makee welcome. Maybe chile be live yet. Maybe mias no killee after all. Trust we in Allah, what you Inglees people callee God. Who know he yet help us!" These last words came like a renewal of life to the despairing father. He started on hearing them; fresh hope had sprung up in his breast, at the thought that his beloved child might yet be alive, and that a chance of rescuing her might still be possible. "In thy mercy, O God, grant it may be so!" were the words that fell from his lips: Murtagh, with equal fervour, saying "Amen!" CHAPTER THIRTY THREE. STRIKING OUT. Inspired to renewed energy, Captain Redwood rushed to the edge of the lagoon, with the view of ascertaining its depth, and seeing whether it might possibly be waded. He soon discovered that it could not. In less than ten paces from the edge he was up to the arm-pits, and from thence it seemed to deepen still more abruptly. Another step forward, and the water rose over his shoulders, the bottom still sloping downwards. The lagoon was evidently impassable. He drew back despairingly, though not to return to the shore. He stood facing the centre of the lagoon, whence still came the strange noises: though scarce so loud or varied as before, they did not appear to be any more distant. Whatever creatures were making them, it was evident they were stationary, either in the trees or upon the ground. They did not sound as if they came from on high; but this might be a deception, caused by the influence of the water. One of the voices bore a singular resemblance to that of a child. It could not be Helen's; it more resembled the squalling of an infant. Saloo knew what it was. In the plaintive tones he recognised the scream of a young ourang-outang. It was a proof his conjecture was true, and that the mias had reached its home. All the more anxious was Captain Redwood to reach the spot whence the sounds proceeded. Something like a presentiment had entered his mind that there was still a hope, and that his child lived and might be rescued. Even if torn, injured, disfigured for life, she might survive. Any sort of life, so long as she could be recovered; and if she could not be restored, at least she might breathe her last breath in his arms. Even that would be easier to bear than the thought that she had gone to rest in the grasp of the hirsute gorilla, with its hideous offspring grinning and gibbering around her. The lagoon could not be waded on foot; but a good swimmer might cross it. The captain was an experienced and accomplished swimmer. The voices came from no great distance--certainly not above half a mile. On one occasion he had accomplished a league in a rough sea! There could be no difficulty in doing as much on the smooth, tranquil water of that tree-shaded lake. He had opened his arms and prepared to strike out, when a thought stayed him. Saloo, who had waded to his side, also arrested him by laying a hand on his shoulder. "You try swimmee, cappen, no good without weapon; we both go togedder-- muss take gun, sumpitan, kliss, else no chance killee mias." It was the thought that had occurred to Captain Redwood himself. "Yes, you are right, Saloo. I must take my rifle, but how am I to keep it dry?--there's not time to make a raft." "No raff need, cappen; givee me you gun--Saloo swim single-hand well as two; he cally the gun." Captain Redwood knew it to be true that Saloo, as he said, could swim with one hand as well as he himself with both. He was a Malay, to whom swimming in the water is almost as natural as walking upon the land. His old pilot could scarcely have been drowned if he had been flung into the sea twenty miles from shore. He at once yielded to Saloo's counsel; and both hastily returned to the edge of the lagoon to make preparations. These did not occupy long. The captain threw off some of his clothes, stowed his powder-flask and some bullets in the crown of his hat, which he fastened firmly on his head. He retained a knife--intended in case of necessity--to be carried between his teeth, giving his gun to Saloo. The Malay, having less undressing to do, had already completed the arrangements. On the top of his turban, safely secured by a knotting of his long black hair, he had fastened his bamboo quiver of poisoned arrows; while his kris--with which a Malay under no circumstances thinks of parting--lay along his thigh, kept in position by the waist-strap used in suspending his _sarong_. With his sumpitan and the captain's gun in his left hand, he was ready to take to the water. Not another moment was lost; the voices of the ourangs seemed to be calling them; and plunging through the shallow, they were soon out in deep water, and striking steadily but rapidly, silently but surely, towards the centre of the lagoon. Henry and Murtagh remained on the shore looking after them. The ship-carpenter was but an indifferent swimmer, and the youth was not strong enough to have swam half a mile. It was doubtful if either could have reached the spot where the apes seemed to have made their rendezvous. And if so, they would have been too exhausted to have rendered any service in case of a sudden conflict. The brave Irishman, devoted to his old skipper, and Henry, anxious to share his father's fate, would have made the attempt; but Captain Redwood restrained them, directing both to await his return. They stood close to the water's edge, following the swimmers with their eyes, and with prayers for their success, scarcely uttered in words, but fervently felt; Murtagh, according to the custom of his country and creed, sealing the petition by making the sign of the cross. CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. SWIMMING IN SHADOW. Silently and swiftly the two swimmers continued their course through the shadowy aisles of the forest. Twilight, almost darkness, was above and around them; for the trees meeting overhead caused an obscurity sombre as night itself. No ray of sunlight ever danced upon the surface of that dismal lagoon. They would have lost their way, had not the noises guided them. Should these be discontinued, their exertions might be all in vain. They thought of this as they proceeded, and reflected also on the course to be adopted when they reached the rendezvous of the gorillas. Supposing there could be no footing found, how were they to use either gun or sumpitan? The question passed between them in a whisper as they swam side by side. Neither knew how to answer it. Saloo only expressed a hope that they might get upon the limb of a tree near enough to send a bullet or arrow into the body of the mias, and terminate his career. There seemed no other chance, and they swam on, keeping it before their minds. About the direction, they had no difficulty whatever. Although the surface of the water was of inky blackness, from the shadowing trees above, and the huge trunks standing out of it now and then forced them into an occasional deviation, they advanced without any great difficulty. They swam around the tree trunks, and, guided by the voices of the gorillas, easily regained their course. The noises were no longer sharp screams or hoarse coughs, but a kind of jabbering jargon, as if the apes were engaged in a family confabulation. The swimmers at length arrived so near, that they no longer felt any fear about finding the way to the place where the reunion of the _quadrumana_ was being held; and which could not be more than a hundred yards distant. Silently gliding through the water, the eyes of both peered intently forward, in an endeavour to pierce the obscurity, and, if possible, discover some low limb of a tree, or projecting buttress, on which they might find a foothold. They had good hope of success, for they had seen many such since starting from the shore. Had rest been necessary, they might have obtained it more than once by grasping a branch above, or clinging to one of the great trunks, whose gnarled and knotted sides would have afforded sufficient support. But they were both strong swimmers, and needed no rest. There was none for the bereaved father--could be none--till he should reach the termination of their strange enterprise, and know what was to be its result. As they swam onward, now proceeding with increased caution, their eyes scanning the dark surface before them, both all of a sudden and simultaneously came to a stop. It was just as if something underneath the water had laid hold of them by the legs, checking them at the same instant of time. And something _had_ impeded their farther progress, but not from behind. In front was the obstruction, which proved to be a bank of earth, that, though under the water, rose within a few inches of its surface. The breast of each swimmer had struck against it, the shock raising them into a half-erect attitude, from which they had no need to return to the horizontal. On the contrary, they now rose upon their feet, which they felt to be resting on a firm hard bottom. Standing in pleased surprise, they could better survey the prospect before them; and after a minute spent in gazing through the gloom, they saw that dry land was close to the spot where they had been so abruptly arrested. It appeared only a low-lying islet, scarce rising above the level of the lagoon, and of limited extent--only a few rods in superficial area. It was thickly covered with trees; but, unlike those standing in the water, which were tall and with single stems, those upon the islet were supported by many trunks, proclaiming them to be some species of the Indian fig or _banyan_. One near the centre, from its greater width and more numerous supporting pillars, seemed the patriarch of the tribe; and to this their eyes were especially directed. For out of its leafy shadows came the strange sounds which had hitherto guided them. Among its branches, without any doubt, the red gorilla had his home; and there he would be found in the bosom of his family. Grasping his gun, and whispering to Saloo to follow him, Captain Redwood started towards the tree so clearly indicated as the goal of their expedition. CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE. THE FAMILY AT HOME. Soon after the intended assailants stood among the rooted branches of the banyan. The gloom underneath its umbrageous branches was deepened by what appeared to be an immense scaffolding constructed near the top of the tree, and extending far out along the horizontal limbs. Saloo at once recognised the permanent nest or roosting-place of a _mias rombi_--such as he had often seen in the forests of Sumatra, where the same, or a closely allied species, has its home. The tree was not a tall one, but low and widespreading; while the broad platform-like nest, formed by interwoven branches, upon which lay a thick layer of grass and leaves, was not more than twenty feet above the surface of the earth. The obscurity which prevailed around favoured their stealthy approach; and like a pair of spectres gliding through the upright pillars, Captain Redwood and his old pilot at length found a position favourable for a survey of the platform erected by the gorilla. The father's heart was filled with strange indescribable emotions, as with eye keenly bent he stood upon a projecting branch, that brought his head on a level with this curious structure. There he saw a scene which stirred his soul to its deepest depths. His daughter, appearing snow-white amid the gloom, was lying upon the scaffold, her golden hair dishevelled, her dress torn into ribbons-- portions of it detached and scattered about. To all appearance she was dead; for, scanning her with the earnest anxious glance of a keen solicitude, he could not detect any movement either in body or limbs; and it was too dark for him to tell whether her eyes were open or closed. But he had now very little hope. He was indeed too certain they were closed in the sleep of death. Around her were assembled three human-like forms, monstrous withal, and all alike covered with a coating of red hair, thick, long, and shaggy. They were of different sizes, and in the largest one he recognised the abductor of his child. The second in size, whose form proclaimed it to be a female, was evidently the wife of the huge man-ape; while the little creature, about eighteen inches in height--though a perfect miniature likeness of its parents--was the infant whose squalling had contributed more than anything else to guide them through the shades of the lagoon. The old male, perhaps suffering fatigue from its fight with the crocodile, as well as from the chase he had sustained, crouched upon the scaffold, seemingly asleep. The other two were still in motion, the mother at intervals seizing her hairy offspring, and grotesquely caressing it; then letting it go free to dance fantastically around the recumbent form of the unconscious captive child. This it did, amusing itself by now and then tearing off a strip of the girl's dress, either with its claws or teeth. It was a spectacle wild, weird, altogether indescribable; and by Captain Redwood not to be looked upon a moment longer than was necessary to embrace its details. Having satisfied himself, he raised his rifle to fire upon the family party, intending first to aim at the father, whose death he most desired, and who living would no doubt prove by far the most dangerous antagonist. In another instant his bullet would have sped towards the breast of the sleeping giant, but for Saloo, who, grasping his arm, restrained him. "Tay, cappen," said the Malay in a whisper; "leave me kill em. Sumpit bettel dun bullet. De gun makee noise--wake old mias up, an' maybe no killee em. De upas poison bettel. It go silent--quick. See how Saloo slay dem all tlee!" There was something in Saloo's suggestions which caused Captain Redwood to ground his rifle and reflect. His reflections quickly ended in his giving place to his old pilot, and leaving the latter to work out the problem in his own way. Stepping up to the branch assigned to him, which commanded a view of the spectacle so torturing to his master, the Malay took a brief glance at the scene--only a very brief one. It enabled him to select the first victim for his envenomed shaft, the same which Captain Redwood had destined to receive the leaden missile from his gun. Bringing to his mouth the sumpitan, in whose tube he had already placed one of his poisoned arrows, and compressing the trumpet-shaped embouchure against his lips, he gave a puff that sent the shaft on its deadly way with such velocity, that even in clear daylight its exit could only have been detected like a spark from a flint. In the obscurity that shrouded the gorilla's roost, nothing at all was seen, and nothing heard; for the sumpit is as silent on its message as the wing of an owl when beating through the twilight. True, there was something heard, though it was not the sound of the arrow. Only a growl from the great red gorilla, that had felt something sting him, and on feeling it threw up his paw to scratch the place, no doubt fancying it to be but the bite of a mosquito or hornet. The piece of stick broken off by his fingers may have seemed to him rather strange, but not enough so to arouse him from his dreamy indifference. Not even when another and another sting of the same unusual kind caused him to renew his scratching--for by this time he was beginning to succumb to the narcotic influence that would soon induce the sleep of death. It did thus end: for after a time, and almost without a struggle, the red-haired monster lay stretched upon the platform which had long been his resting-place, his huge limbs supple and tremulous with the last throes of life. And beside him, in the same condition, was soon after seen his wife, who, of weaker conformation, had more quickly yielded to the soporific effect of the upas poison, from which, when it has once pervaded the blood, there is no chance of recovery. Saloo did not deem the infant mias worthy a single arrow, and after its parents had been disposed of, he sprang upon the scaffold, followed by Captain Redwood, who, the moment after, was kneeling by his child, and with ear closely pressed to her bosom, listened to learn if her heart was still beating. _It was_! CHAPTER THIRTY SIX. AN IMPROVISED PALANQUIN. "She lives! thank God, she lives!" These were the words that fell upon the ears of Henry and Murtagh, when Saloo, swimming back to the shore, related to them what had transpired. And more too. She had recovered from her swoon, a long-protracted syncope, which had fortunately kept her in a state of unconsciousness almost from the moment of her capture to that of her rescue. With the exception of some scratches upon her delicate skin, and a slight pain caused by the compression to which she had been subjected in that hideous hug, no harm had befallen her--at least no injury that promised to be of a permanent nature. Such was the report and prognosis of Saloo, who had swam back to the shore to procure the ship-carpenter's axe, and his aid in the construction of a raft. This was to carry Helen from the islet--from a spot which had so nearly proved fatal to her. A bamboo grove grew close at hand, and with Saloo's knowledge and the ship-carpenter's skill, a large life-preserver was soon set afloat on the water of the lagoon. It was at once paddled to the islet, and shortly after came back again bearing with it a precious freight--a beautiful young girl rescued by an affectionate father, and restored to an equally affectionate brother. Long before the raft had grounded against the shore, Henry, plunging into the shallow water, had gone to meet it, and mounting upon the buoyant bamboos, had flung his arms around the form of his little sister. How tender that embrace, how fond and affectionate, how different from the harsh hostile hug of the monster, whose long hairy arms had late so cruelly encircled her delicate form! As the child was still weak--her strength prostrated more by her first alarm when seized, than by aught that had happened afterwards--Captain Redwood would have deemed it prudent to make some stay upon the shore of the lagoon. But the place seemed so dismal, while the air was evidently damp and unhealthy, to say naught of the unpleasant thoughts the scene suggested, he felt desirous to escape from it as soon as possible. In this matter the Malay again came to his assistance, by saying they could soon provide a litter on which the child might be transported with as much ease to herself as if she were travelling in the softest sedan-chair that ever carried noble lady of Java or Japan. "Construct it then," was the reply of Captain Redwood, who was altogether occupied in caressing his restored child. Saloo needed no further directions: he only requested the assistance of Murtagh, along with what remained to him of his tools; and these being as freely as joyfully furnished, a score of fresh bamboos soon lay prostrate on the ground, out of which the palanquin was to be built up. Lopped into proper lengths, and pruned of their great leaf-blades, they were soon welded into the shape of a stretcher, with a pair of long handles projecting from each end. The palanquin was not yet complete, and by rights should have had a roof over it to shelter its occupant from rain or sun; but as there was no appearance of rain, and certainly no danger of being scorched by the sun in a forest where its glowing orb was never seen nor its rays permitted to penetrate, a roof was not thought necessary, and Saloo's task was simplified by leaving it a mere stretcher. He took pains, however, that it should be both soft and elastic. The latter quality he obtained by a careful choice of the bamboos that were to serve as shafts; the former requisite he secured by thickly bedding it with the lopped-off leaves, and adding an upper stratum of cotton, obtained from a species of bombyx growing close at hand, and soft as the down of the eider-duck. Reclining upon this easy couch, borne upon its long shafts of elastic bamboo, Saloo at one end and Murtagh at the other, Helen was transported like a queen through the forest she had lately traversed as a captive in a manner so strange and perilous. Before the sun had set, they once more looked upon its cheering light, its last declining rays falling upon her pale face as she was set down upon the shore of the lake, beside that same tree from which she had taken her involuntary departure. CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN. THE JOURNEY CONTINUED. The captain's daughter, with the natural vigour of youth, soon recovered from the slight injuries she had sustained in her singular journey through the maze of boughs. The previous perils of shipwreck, and the various hairbreadth escapes through which she had more recently passed, made her last danger all the lighter to bear; for by these her child's spirit had become steeled to endurance, and her courage was equal to that of a full-grown woman. Otherwise the fearful situation in which she had been placed, if leaving life, might have deprived her of reason. As it happened, no serious misfortune had befallen, and with Helen's strength and spirits both fully restored, her companions were able on the third day to resume their overland journey. And, still more, they started with a fresh supply of provisions--enough to last them for many long days. Captain Redwood and Saloo in their hunting excursion had been very successful. The captain had not been called upon to fire a single shot from his rifle, so that his slender store of ammunition was still good for future eventualities. Saloo's silent sumpits had done all the work of the chase, which resulted in the death of a deer, another wild pig, and several large birds, suitable for the pot or spit. The hunters had been returning from their last expedition heavily loaded with game, when the cries of Helen, Henry, and Murtagh, had caused them to drop their booty and hasten to the rescue. Now that all was over, and they were once more reminded of it, Saloo and Murtagh went in search of the abandoned game, soon found it, gathered it again, and transported it to their camping-place by the side of the lake. Here, during the time they stayed to await the recovery of Helen's health, the pork and venison were cut up and cured in such a manner as to ensure its keeping for a long time--long enough indeed to suffice them throughout the whole duration of their contemplated journey; that is, should no unexpected obstacle arise to obstruct or detain them. The fowls that had fallen to Saloo's arrows were sufficient to serve them for a few days, and with the fine supply of lard obtained from the carcass of the pig, they could be cooked in the most sumptuous manner. In the best of spirits they again set forth; and it seemed now as if fate had at last grown weary of torturing them, and daily, almost hourly, involving one or other of them in danger of death. From the edge of the lake, where their journey had been so strangely interrupted, they found an easy path across the remaining portion of the great plain. Several times they came upon the traces of red gorillas, and once they caught sight of a member of the horrid tribe speeding along the branches above their heads. But they were not so much afraid of them after all; for Saloo admitted that he did not deem the _mias pappan_ so dangerous; and he had ascertained that it was this species of ourang-outang they had encountered. He confessed himself puzzled at the behaviour of the one that had caused them so much fear and trouble. It was another species, the _mias rombi_, of which he stood in dread; and he could only account for the _mias pappan_ having acted as it had done, by supposing the animal to have taken some eccentric notion into its head--perhaps caused, as we have already hinted, by its conflict with the crocodile. Dangerous these gigantic _quadrumana_ are, nevertheless;--their superhuman strength enabling them to make terrible havoc wherever and whenever their fury becomes aroused. But without provocation this rarely occurs, and a man or woman who passes by them without making a noise, is not likely to be molested. Besides the large species, to which belonged the ape that had attacked them, the travellers saw another kind while passing across the plain. This was the _mias kassio_, much smaller in size, and more gentle in its nature. But they saw nothing of those, tallest of all, and the most dreaded by Saloo--the _mias rombis_--although the old bee-hunter still maintained his belief that they exist in the forests of Borneo as well as in the wilds of Sumatra. The plain over which they were making their way, here and there intersected with lagoons and tracts of tree-covered swamp, was the very locality in which these great apes delight to dwell; their habit being to make their huge platforms, or sleeping-places, upon bushes that grow out of boggy marsh or water--thus rendering them difficult of access to man, the only enemy they have need to dread. CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT. THE FRIENDLY FLAG. The travellers had taken their departure from the lake-shore at an early hour of the morning; and before sunset they had traversed the remaining portion of the plain, and ascended a considerable distance up the sloping side of the mountains beyond. Another day's journey, during which they accomplished a very long and tiresome march, brought them to the summit of the ridge, the great dividing chain which strikes longitudinally across the whole island of Borneo, so far as the geographers yet know it. They could see far to the northward, dimly outlined against the sky, the immense mountain of Kini-Balu--which rises to a height of nearly 12,000 feet; but they derived their principal gratification from the fact that, in the country stretching westward, appeared nothing likely to prevent them from reaching the destined goal of their journey, the old Malay capital town of Bruni--or rather the isle of Labuan, which lies along the coast a little to the north of it, where Captain Redwood knew that a flag floated, which, if not that of his own country, would be equally as certain to give him protection. From the position of Kini-Balu, whose square summit they could distinguish from all others, he could see the point to steer for as well, or even better, than if he had brought his ship's compass with him, and they would no longer be travelling in any uncertainty as to their course. From where they were it could be distinguished to a pointy without any variation; and after a good night's rest upon the mountain-ridge, they commenced descending its western slope. For a time they lost sight of the sun's orb, that, rising behind their backs, was hidden by the mountain mass, and casting a purple shadow over the forest-clad country before them. Soon, however, the bright orb, soaring into the sky, sent its beams before them, and they continued their journey under the cheering light. Had it not been for fear of their fellow-beings, they would have advanced on without much further apprehension; for one and all were now rejoicing in a plentitude of restored health, and their spirits were consequently fresh and cheerful. But they still had some dread of danger from man--from those terrible enemies, the Dyaks, of whom Bornean travellers have told such ghastly tales. It seemed, however, as if our adventurers were not destined to discover whether these tales were true or false, or in any way to realise them. The evil star that had hung over their heads while on the eastern side of the island, must have stayed there; and now on the west nothing of ill appeared likely to befall them. For all this they did not trust to destiny, but took every precaution to shun an encounter with the savages, travelling only at such times as they were certain the "coast was clear;" and lying in concealment whenever they saw a sign of danger. Saloo, who could glide through the trees with the stealth and silence of a snake, always led the advance; and thus they progressed from hill to hill, and across the intervening valleys, still taking care that their faces should be turned westward. At length, after many days of this cautious progress, they ascended a steep ridge, which, rising directly across their route, made it necessary for them to climb it. It caused them several hours of toil; but they were well rewarded for the effort. On reaching its summit, and casting their glances beyond, they saw below, and at a little to the left, the strange old wooden-walled town of Bruni; while to the right, across a narrow arm of the sea, lay the island of Labuan, and on its conspicuous buildings waved the glorious old banner of Britannia. Captain Redwood hailed it with almost as much joy as if it had been the flag of his native land. He was not then in the mood to dwell on any distinction between them; but, flinging himself on his knees, with Henry on one side, and Helen upon the other--Murtagh and the Malay a few paces in the rear--he offered up a prayer of devout and earnest gratitude for their great deliverance to Him who is ever powerful to save, their Father and their God. 
37215	----	[Illustration: Cover] THE ARGUS PHEASANT [Illustration: The Chinaman's laborious progress through the cane had amused her. She knew why he stepped so carefully] THE ARGUS PHEASANT BY JOHN CHARLES BEECHAM Frontispiece by GEORGE W. GAGE [Illustration] NEW YORK W. J. WATT & COMPANY PUBLISHERS COPYRIGHT, 1918, BY W. J. WATT & COMPANY PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOK MANUFACTURERS BROOKLYN, N. Y. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. The Omniscient Sachsen 1 II. Ah Sing Counts His Nails 10 III. Peter Gross is Named Resident 25 IV. Koyola's Prayer 35 V. Sachsen's Warning 54 VI. The Pirate League 73 VII. Mynheer Muller Worries 82 VIII. Koyala's Warning 97 IX. The Long Arm of Ah Sing 107 X. Captain Carver Signs 119 XI. Mynheer Muller's Dream 125 XII. Peter Gross's Reception 134 XIII. A Fever Antidote 144 XIV. Koyala's Defiance 154 XV. The Council 165 XVI. Peter Gross's Pledge 173 XVII. The Poisoned Arrow 192 XVIII. A Summons to Sadong 198 XIX. Koyala's Ultimatum 207 XX. Lkath's Conversion 216 XXI. Captured by Pirates 226 XXII. In the Temple 238 XXIII. Ah Sing's Vengeance 245 XXIV. A Rescue 252 XXV. The Fight on the Beach 259 XXVI. "To Half of My Kingdom-" 268 XXVII. A Woman Scorned 274 XXVIII. The Attack on the Fort 285 XXIX. A Woman's Heart 296 XXX. The Governor's Promise 310 THE ARGUS PHEASANT Ah, God, for a man with a heart, head, hand, Like some of the simple great ones gone Forever and ever by; One still, strong man in a blatant land, Whatever they call him--what care I?-- Aristocrat, democrat, autocrat--one Who can rule and dare not lie! _Tennyson._ CHAPTER I THE OMNISCIENT SACHSEN It was very apparent that his Excellency Jonkheer Adriaan Adriaanszoon Van Schouten, governor-general of the Netherlands East Indies, was in a temper. His eyes sparked like an emery-wheel biting cold steel. His thin, sharp-ridged nose rose high and the nostrils quivered. His pale, almost bloodless lips were set in rigid lines over his finely chiseled, birdlike beak with its aggressive Vandyke beard. His hair bristled straight and stiff, like the neck-feathers of a ruffled cock, over the edge of his linen collar. It was this latter evidence of the governor's unpleasant humor that his military associate, General Gysbert Karel Vanden Bosch, observed with growing anxiety. The governor took a pinch of snuff with great deliberation and glared across the big table of his cabinet-room at the general. Vanden Bosch shrank visibly. "Then, my dear _generaal_," he demanded, "you say we must let these sons of Jazebel burn down my residences, behead my residents, and feed my _controlleurs_ to the crocodiles without interference from the military?" "_Ach_, no, your excellency!" General Vanden Bosch expostulated hastily. "Not that!" "I fear I have not understood you, my dear general. What do you advise?" The icy sweetness of the choleric Van Schouten sent a cold shiver along the commander's spine. He wriggled nervously in the capacious armchair that he filled so snugly. Quite unconsciously he mumbled to himself the clause which the pious Javanese had added to their prayers since Van Schouten's coming to Batavia: "And from the madness of the _orang blanda_ devil at the _paleis_, Allah deliver us." "Ha! _generaal_, what do you say?" the governor exclaimed. Vanden Bosch coughed noisily and rallied his wits. "Ahem, your excellency; ah-hum! It is a problem, as your excellency knows. I could send Colonel Heyns and his regiment to Bulungan, if your excellency so desires. But--ahem--as your excellency knows, all he will find is empty huts. Not a proa on the sea; not a Dyak in his field." "You might as well send that many wooden men!" Van Schouten snapped. The general winced. His portentously solemn features that for forty years had impressed the authorities at The Hague with his sagacity in military affairs became severely grave. Oracularly he suggested: "Would it not be wise, your excellency, to give Mynheer Muller, the _controlleur_, more time? His last report was very satisfactory. Very satisfactory, indeed!" He smacked his lips at the satisfactoriness thereof. "_Donder en bliksem!_" the governor swore, crashing his lean fist on the table. "More time for what? The taxes have not been paid for two years. Not a kilo of rice has been grown on our plantations. Not a liter of dammargum has been shipped here. The cane is left to rot uncut. Fire has ravaged the cinchona-groves my predecessors set with such care. Every ship brings fresh reports of piracies, of tribal wars, and head-hunting. How much longer must we possess our souls in patience while these things go on?" The general shook his head with a brave show of regret. "_Ach!_ your excellency," he replied sadly; "he promised so well." "Promises," the governor retorted, "do not pay taxes." Vanden Bosch rubbed his purple nose in perplexity. "I suppose it is the witch-woman again," he remarked, discouragedly. "Who else?" Van Schouten growled. "Always the witch-woman. That spawn of Satan, Koyala, is at the bottom of every uprising we have in Borneo." "That is what we get for letting half-breeds mingle with whites in our mission schools," Vanden Bosch observed bitterly. The governor scowled. "That folly will cost the state five hundred _gulden_," he remarked. "That is the price I have put on her head." The general pricked up his ears. "H-m, that should interest Mynheer Muller," he remarked. "There is nothing he likes so well as the feel of a guilder between his fingers." The governor snorted. "_Neen, generaal_," he negatived. "For once he has found a sweeter love than silver. The fool fairly grovels at Koyala's feet, Sachsen tells me." "So?" Vanden Bosch exclaimed with quickened interest. "They say she is very fair." "If I could get my hands on her once, the Argus Pheasant's pretty feathers would molt quickly," Van Schouten snarled. His fingers closed like an eagle's talons. "Argus Pheasant, Bintang Burung, the Star Bird--'tis a sweet-sounding name the Malays have for her," the general remarked musingly. There was a sparkle in his eye--the old warrior had not lost his fondness for a pretty face. "If I was younger," he sighed, "I might go to Bulungan myself." The governor grunted. "You are an old cock that has lost his tail-feathers, _generaal_," he growled. "This is a task for a young man." The general's chest swelled and his chin perked up jauntily. "I am not so old as you think, your excellency," he retorted with a trace of asperity. "_Neen, neen, generaal_," the governor negatived, "I cannot let you go--not for your own good name's sake. The gossips of Amsterdam and The Hague would have a rare scandal to prate about if it became whispered around that Gysbert Vanden Bosch was scouring the jungles of Bulungan for a witch-woman with a face and form like Helen of Troy's." The general flushed. His peccadillos had followed him to Java, and he did not like to be reminded of them. "The argus pheasant is too shy a bird to come within gunshot, your excellency," he replied somberly. "It must be trapped." "Ay, and so must she," the governor assented. "That is how she got her name. But you are too seasoned for bait, my dear _generaal_." He chuckled. Vanden Bosch was too much impressed with his own importance to enjoy being chaffed. Ignoring the thrust, he observed dryly: "Your excellency might try King Saul's plan." "Ha!" the governor exclaimed with interest. "What is that?" Van Schouten prided himself on his knowledge of the Scriptures, and the general could not repress a little smirk of triumph at catching him napping. "King Saul tied David's hands by giving him his daughter to wife," he explained. "In the same way, your excellency might clip the Argus Pheasant's wings by marrying her to one of our loyal servants. It might be managed most satisfactorily. A proper marriage would cause her to forget the brown blood that she hates so bitterly." "It is not her brown blood that she hates, it is her white blood," Van Schouten contradicted. "But who would be the man?" "Why not Mynheer Muller, the _controlleur_!" Vanden Bosch asked. "From what your excellency says, he would not be unwilling. Then our troubles in Bulungan would be over." Van Schouten scowled thoughtfully. "It would be a good match," the general urged. "He is only common blood--a Marken herring-fisher's son by a Celebes woman. And she"--he shrugged his shoulders--"for all her pretty face and plump body she is Leveque, the French trader's daughter, by a Dyak woman." He licked his lips in relish of the plan. Van Schouten shook his head. "No, I cannot do it," he said. "I could send her to the coffee-plantations--that would be just punishment for her transgressions. But God keep me from sentencing any woman to marry." "But, your excellency," Vanden Bosch entreated. "It is ridiculous, _generaal_," the governor cut in autocratically. "The argus pheasant does not mate with the vulture." Vanden Bosch's face fell. "Then your excellency must appoint another resident," he said, in evident disappointment. "It will take a strong man to bring those Dyaks to time." Van Schouten looked at him fixedly for several moments. A miserable sensation of having said too much crept over the general. "Ha!" Van Schouten exclaimed. "You say we must have a new resident. That has been my idea, too. What bush-fighter have you that can lead two hundred cut-throats like himself and harry these tigers out of their lairs till they crawl on their bellies to beg for peace?" Inwardly cursing himself for his folly in ceasing to advocate Muller, the general twiddled his thumbs and said nothing. "Well, _generaal_?" Van Schouten rasped irascibly. "Ahem--you know what troops I have, your excellency. Mostly raw recruits, here scarce three months. There is not a man among them I would trust alone in the bush. After all, it might be wisest to give Mynheer Muller another chance." His cheeks puffed till they were purple. Van Schouten's face flamed. "Enough! Enough!" he roared. "If the military cannot keep our house in order, Sachsen and I will find a man. That is all, _generaal_. _Goedendag!_" Vanden Bosch made a hasty and none too dignified exit, damning under his breath the administration that had transferred him from a highly ornamental post in Amsterdam to live with this pepper-pot. He was hardly out of the door before the governor shouted: "Sachsen! _Hola_, Sachsen!" The sound of the governor's voice had scarcely died in the marbled corridors when Sachsen, the omniscient, the indispensable secretary, bustled into the sanctum. His stooped shoulders were crooked in a perpetual obeisance, and his damp, gray hair was plastered thinly over his ruddy scalp; but the shrewd twinkle in his eyes and the hawklike cast of his nose and chin belied the air of humility he affected. "Sachsen," the governor demanded, the eagle gleaming in his lean, Cæsarian face, "where can I find a man that will bring peace to Bulungan?" The wrinkled features of the all-knowing Sachsen crinkled with a smile of inspiration. "Your excellency," he murmured, bowing low, "there is Peter Gross, freeholder of Batavia." "Peter Gross, _Pieter_ Gross," Van Schouten mused, his brow puckered with a thoughtful frown. "The name seems to have slipped my memory. What has Peter Gross, freeholder of Batavia, done to merit such an appointment at our hands, Sachsen?" The secretary bowed again, punctiliously. "Your excellency perhaps remembers," he reminded, "that it was Peter Gross who rescued Lieutenant Hendrik de Koren and twelve men from the pirates of Lombock." "Ha!" the governor exclaimed, his stern features relaxing a trifle. "Now, Sachsen, answer me truthfully, has this Peter Gross an eye for women?" The secretary bent low. "Your excellency, the fairest flowers of Batavia are his to pick and choose. The good God has given him a brave heart, a comely face, and plenty of flesh to cover his bones. But his only mistress is the sea." "If I should send him to Bulungan, would that she-devil, Koyala, make the same fool of him that she has of Muller?" the governor demanded sharply. "Your excellency, the angels above would fail sooner than he." The governor's fist crashed on the table with a resounding thwack. "Then he is the man we need!" he exclaimed. "Where shall I find this Peter Gross, Sachsen?" "Your excellency, he is now serving as first mate of the Yankee barkentine, _Coryander_, anchored in this port. He was here at the _paleis_ only a moment ago, inquiring for news of three of his crew who had exceeded their shore leave. I think he has gone to Ah Sing's _rumah makan_, in the Chinese campong." Van Schouten sprang from his great chair of state like a cockerel fluttering from a roost. He licked his thin lips and curved them into a smile. "Sachsen," he said, "except myself, you are the only man in Java that knows anything. My hat and coat, Sachsen, and my cane!" CHAPTER II AH SING COUNTS HIS NAILS Captain Threthaway, of the barkentine, _Coryander_, of Boston, should have heeded the warning he received from his first mate, Peter Gross, to keep away from the roadstead of Batavia. He had no particular business in that port. But an equatorial sun, hot enough to melt the marrow in a man's bones, made the _Coryander's_ deck a blistering griddle; there was no ice on board, and the water in the casks tasted foul as bilge. So the captain let his longing for iced tea and the cool depths of a palm-grove get the better of his judgment. Passing Timor, Floris, and the other links in the Malayan chain, Captain Threthaway looked longingly at the deeply shaded depths of the mangrove jungles. The lofty tops of the cane swayed gently to a breeze scarcely perceptible on the _Coryander's_ sizzling deck. When the barkentine rounded Cape Karawang, he saw a bediamonded rivulet leap sheer off a lofty cliff and lose itself in the liana below. It was the last straw; the captain felt he had to land and taste ice on his tongue again or die. Calling his first mate, he asked abruptly: "Can we victual at Batavia as cheaply as at Singapore, Mr. Gross?" Peter Gross looked at the shore-line thoughtfully. "One place is as cheap as the other, Mr. Threthaway; but if it's my opinion you want, I advise against stopping at Batavia." The captain frowned. "Why, Mr. Gross?" he asked sharply. "Because we'd lose our crew, and Batavia's a bad place to pick up another one. That gang for'ard isn't to be trusted where there's liquor to be got. 'Twouldn't be so bad to lose a few of them at Singapore--there's always English-speaking sailors there waiting for a ship to get home on; but Batavia's Dutch. We might have to lay around a week." "I don't think there's the slightest danger of desertions," Captain Threthaway replied testily. "What possible reason could any of our crew have to leave?" "The pay is all right, and the grub is all right; there's no kicking on those lines," Peter Gross said, speaking guardedly. "But most of this crew are drinking men. They're used to their rations of grog regular. They've been without liquor since we left Frisco, except what they got at Melbourne, and that was precious little. Since the water fouled on us, they're ready for anything up to murder and mutiny. There'll be no holding them once we make port." Captain Threthaway flushed angrily. His thin, ascetic jaw set with Puritan stubbornness as he retorted: "When I can't sail a ship without supplying liquor to the crew, I'll retire, Mr. Gross." "Don't misunderstand me, captain," Peter Gross replied, with quiet patience. "I'm not disagreeing with your teetotaler principles. They improve a crew if you've got the right stock to work with. But when you take grog away from such dock-sweepings as Smith and Jacobson and that little Frenchman, Le Beouf, you take away the one thing on earth they're willing to work for. We had all we could do to hold them in hand at Melbourne, and after the contrary trades we've bucked the past week, and the heat, their tongues are hanging out for a drop of liquor." "Let them dare come back drunk," the captain snapped angrily. "I know what will cure them." "They won't come back," Peter Gross asserted calmly. "Then we'll go out and get them," Captain Threthaway said grimly. "They'll be where they can't be found," Peter Gross replied. Captain Threthaway snorted impatiently. "Look here, captain!" Peter Gross exclaimed, facing his skipper squarely. "Batavia is my home when I'm not at sea. I know its ins and outs. Knowing the town, and knowing the crew we've got, I'm sure a stop there will be a mighty unpleasant experience all around. There's a Chinaman there, Ah Sing, a public-house proprietor and a crimp, that has runners to meet every boat. Once a man goes into his _rumah makan_, he's as good as lost until the next skipper comes along short-handed and puts up the price." Captain Threthaway smiled confidently. "Poor as the crew is, Mr. Gross, there's no member of it will prefer lodging in a Chinese crimp's public house ten thousand miles from home to his berth here." "They'll forget his color when they taste his hot rum," Peter Gross returned bruskly. "And once they drink it, they'll forget everything else. Ah Sing is the smoothest article that ever plaited a queue, and they don't make them any slicker than they do in China." Captain Threthaway's lips pinched together in irritation. "There are always the authorities," he remarked pettishly, to end the controversy. Peter Gross restrained a look of disgust with difficulty. "Yes, there are always the authorities," he conceded. "But in the Chinese campong they're about as much use as a landlubber aloft in a blow. The campong is a little republic in itself, and Ah Sing is the man that runs it. If the truth was known, I guess he's the boss Chinaman of the East Indies--pirate, trader, politician--anything he can make a guilder at. From his rum-shop warrens run into every section of Chinatown, and they're so well hid that the governor, though he's sharp as a weasel and by all odds the best man the Dutch ever had here, can't find them. It's the real port of missing men." Captain Threthaway looked shoreward, where dusky, breech-clouted natives were resting in the cool shade of the heavy-leafed mangroves. A bit of breeze stirred just then, bringing with it the rich spice-grove and jungle scents of the thickly wooded island. A fierce longing for the shore seized the captain. He squared his shoulders with decision. "I'll take the chance, Mr. Gross," he said. "This heat is killing me. You may figure on twenty-four hours in port." Twelve hours after the _Coryander_ cast anchor in Batavia harbor, Smith, Jacobson, and Le Beouf were reported missing. When Captain Threthaway, for all his Boston upbringing, had exhausted a prolific vocabulary, he called his first mate. "Mr. Gross," he said, "the damned renegades are gone. Do you think you can find them?" Long experience in the vicissitudes of life, acquired in that best school of all, the forecastle, had taught Peter Gross the folly of saying, "I told you so." Therefore he merely replied: "I'll try, sir." So it befell that he sought news of the missing ones at the great white _stadhuis_, where the Heer Sachsen, always his friend, met him and conceived the inspiration for his prompt recommendation to the governor-general. Peter Gross ambled on toward Ah Sing's _rumah makan_ without the slightest suspicion he was being followed. On his part, Governor-General Van Schouten was content to let his quarry walk on unconscious of observation while he measured the man. "God in Israel, what a man!" his excellency exclaimed admiringly, noting Peter Gross's broad shoulders and stalwart thighs. "If he packs as much brains inside his skull as he does meat on his bones, there are some busy days ahead for my Dyaks." He smacked his lips in happy anticipation. Ah Sing's grog-shop, with its colonnades and porticoes and fussy gables and fantastic cornices terminating in pigtail curlicues, was a squalid place for all the ornamentation cluttered on it. Peter Gross observed its rubbishy surroundings with ill-concealed disgust. "'Twould be a better Batavia if some one set fire to the place," he muttered to himself. "Yet the law would call it arson." Looking up, he saw Ah Sing seated in one of the porticoes, and quickly masked his face to a smile of cordial greeting, but not before the Chinaman had detected his ill humor. There was a touch of three continents in Ah Sing's appearance. He sat beside a table, in the American fashion; he smoked a long-stemmed hookah, after the Turkish fashion, and he wore his clothes after the Chinese fashion. The bland innocence of his pudgy face and the seraphic mildness of his unblinking almond eyes that peeped through slits no wider than the streak of a charcoal-pencil were as the guilelessness of Mother Eve in the garden. Motionless as a Buddha idol he sat, except for occasional pulls at the hookah. "Good-morning, Ah Sing," Peter Gross remarked happily, as he mounted the colonnade. The tiny slits through which Ah Sing beheld the pageantry of a sun-baked world opened a trifle wider. "May Allah bless thee, Mr. Gross," he greeted impassively. Peter Gross pulled a chair away from one of the other tables and placed it across the board from Ah Sing. Then he succumbed to it with a sigh of gentle ease. "A hot day," he panted, and fanned himself as though he found the humidity unbearable. "Belly hot," Ah Sing gravely agreed in a guttural voice that sounded from unfathomable abysses. "A hot day for a man that's tasted no liquor for nigh three months," Peter Gross amended. "You makee long trip?" Ah Sing inquired politely. Peter Gross's features molded themselves into an expression eloquently appreciative of his past miseries. "That's altogether how you take it, Ah Sing," he replied. "From Frisco to Melbourne to Batavia isn't such a thunderin' long ways, not to a man that's done the full circle three times. But when you make the voyage with a Methodist captain who doesn't believe in grog, it's the longest since Captain Cook's. Ah Sing, my throat's dryer than a sou'east monsoon. Hot toddy for two." Ah Sing clapped his hands and uttered a magic word or two in Chinese. A Cantonese waiter paddled swiftly outside, bearing a lacquered tray and two steaming glasses. One he placed before Ah Sing and the other before Peter Gross, who tossed a coin on the table. "Pledge your health, sir," Peter Gross remarked and reached across the board to clink glasses with his Chinese friend. Ah Sing lifted his glass to meet the sailor's and suddenly found it snaked out of his hands by a deft motion of Peter Gross's middle finger. Gross slid his own glass across the table toward Ah Sing. "If you don't mind," he remarked pleasantly. "Your waiter might have mistaken me for a plain A. B., and I've got to get back to my ship to-night." Ah Sing's bland and placid face remained expressionless as a carved god's. But he left the glass stand, untasted, beside him. The _Coryander's_ mate sipped his liquor and sank deeper into his chair. He studied with an air of affectionate interest the long lane of quaintly colonnaded buildings that edged the city within a city, the Chinese campong. Pigtailed Orientals, unmindful of the steaming heat, squirmed across the scenery. Ten thousand stenches were compounded into one, in which the flavor of garlic predominated. Peter Gross breathed the heavy air with a smile of reminiscent pleasure and dropped another notch into the chair. "It feels good to be back ashore again for a spell, Ah Sing," he remarked. "A nice, cool spot like this, with nothing to do and some of your grog under the belt, skins a blistery deck any day. I don't wonder so many salts put up here." Back of the curtain of fat through which they peered, Ah Sing's oblique eyes quivered a trifle as they watched the sailor keenly. "By the way," Peter Gross observed, stretching his long legs out to the limit of their reach, "you haven't seen any of my men, have you? Smith, he's pock-marked and has a cut over his right eye; Jacobson, a tall Swede, and Le Beouf, a little Frenchman with a close-clipped black mustache and beard?" Ah Sing gravely cudgeled his memory. "None of your men," he assured, "was here." Peter Gross's face fell. "That's too bad!" he exclaimed in evident disappointment. "I thought sure I'd find 'em here. You're sure you haven't overlooked them? That Frenchie might call for a hop; we picked him out of a hop-joint at Frisco." "None your men here," Ah Sing repeated gutturally. Peter Gross rumpled his tousled hair in perplexity. "We-el," he drawled unhappily, "if those chaps don't get back on shipboard by nightfall I'll have to buy some men from you, Ah Sing. Have y' got three good hands that know one rope from another?" "Two men off schooner _Marianna_," Ah Sing replied in his same thick monotone. "One man, steamer _Callee-opie_. Good strong man. Work hard." "You stole 'em, I s'pose?" Peter Gross asked pleasantly. Ah Sing's heavy jowls waggled in gentle negation. "No stealum man," he denied quietly. "Him belly sick. Come here, get well. Allie big, strong man." "How much a head?" "Twlenty dlolla." "F. O. B. the _Coryander_ and no extra charges?" Ah Sing's inscrutable face screwed itself into a maze of unreadable wrinkles and lines. "Him eat heap," he announced. "Five dlolla more for board." "You go to blazes," Peter Gross replied cheerfully. "I'll look up a couple of men somewhere else or go short-handed if I have to." Ah Sing made no reply and his impassive face did not alter its expressionless fixity. Peter Gross lazily pulled himself up in his chair and extended his right hand across the table. A ring with a big bloodstone in the center, a bloodstone cunningly chiseled and marked, rested on the middle finger. "See that ring, Ah Sing?" he asked. "I got that down to Mauritius. What d'ye think it's worth?" Ah Sing's long, claw-like fingers groped avariciously toward the ring. His tiny, fat-encased eyes gleamed with cupidity. With a quick, cat-like movement, Peter Gross gripped one of the Chinaman's hands. "Don't pull," he cautioned quickly as Ah Sing tried to draw his hand away. "I was going to tell you that there's a drop of adder's poison inside the bloodstone that runs down a little hollow pin if you press the stone just so--" He moved to illustrate. "No! No!" Ah Sing shrieked pig-like squeals of terror. "Just send one of your boys for my salts, will you?" Peter Gross requested pleasantly. "I understand they got here yesterday morning and haven't been seen to leave. Talk English--no China talk, savvy?" A flash of malevolent fury broke Ah Sing's mask of impassivity. The rage his face expressed caused Peter Gross to grip his hand the harder and look quickly around for a possible danger from behind. They were alone. Peter Gross moved a finger toward the stone, and Ah Sing capitulated. At his shrill cry there was a hurried rustle from within. Peter Gross kept close grip on the Chinaman's hand until he heard the shuffling tramp of sailor feet. Smith, Jacobson and Le Beouf, blinking sleepily, were herded on the portico by two giant Thibetans. Peter Gross shoved the table and Ah Sing violently back and leaped to his feet. "You'll--desert--will you?" he exclaimed. Each word was punctuated by a swift punch on the chin of one of the unlucky sailors and an echoing thud on the floor. Smith, Jacobson, and Le Beouf lay neatly cross-piled on one of Ah Sing's broken chairs. "I'll pay for the chair," Peter Gross declared, jerking his men to their feet and shoving them down the steps. Ah Sing shrilled an order in Chinese. The Thibetan giants leaped for Peter Gross, who sprang out of their reach and put his back to the wall. In his right hand a gun flashed. "Ah Sing, I'll take you first," he shouted. The screen separating them from the adjoining portico was violently pushed aside. "Ah Sing!" exclaimed a sharp, authoritative voice. Ah Sing looked about, startled. The purpled fury his face expressed sickened to a mottled gray. Adriaan Adriaanszoon Van Schouten, governor-general of Java, leaning lightly on his cane, frowned sternly at the scene of disorder. At a cry from their master the two Thibetans backed away from Peter Gross, who lowered his weapon. "Is it thus you observe our laws, Ah Sing?" Van Schouten demanded coldly. Ah Sing licked his lips. "Light of the sun--" he began, but the governor interrupted shortly: "The magistrate will hear your explanations." His eagle eyes looked penetratingly upon Peter Gross, who looked steadfastly back. "Sailor, you threatened to poison this man," the governor accused harshly, indicating Ah Sing. "Your excellency, that was bluff," Peter Gross replied. "The ring is as harmless as your excellency's own." Van Schouten's eyes twinkled. "What is your name, sailor, and your ship?" he demanded. "Peter Gross, your excellency, first mate of the barkentine _Coryander_ of Boston, now lying in your excellency's harbor of Batavia." "Ah Sing," Van Schouten rasped sternly, "if these drunken louts are not aboard their ship by nightfall, you go to the coffee-fields." Ah Sing's gimlet eyes shrank to pin-points. His face was expressionless, but his whole body seemed to shake with suppressed emotion as he choked in guttural Dutch: "Your excellency shall be obeyed." He salaamed to the ground. Van Schouten glared at Peter Gross. "Mynheer Gross, the good name of our fair city is very dear to us," he said sternly. "Scenes of violence like this do it much damage. I would have further discourse with you. Be at the _paleis_ within the hour." "I shall be there, your excellency," Peter Gross promised. The governor shifted his frown to Ah Sing. "As for you, Ah Sing, I have heard many evil reports of this place," he said. "Let me hear no more." While Ah Sing salaamed again, the governor strode pompously away, followed at a respectful distance by Peter Gross. It was not until they had disappeared beyond a curve in the road that Ah Sing let his face show his feelings. Then an expression of malignant fury before which even the two Thibetans quailed, crossed it. He uttered a harsh command to have the débris removed. The Thibetans jumped forward in trembling alacrity. Without giving them another glance he waddled into the building, into a little den screened off for his own use. From a patent steel safe of American make he took an ebony box, quaintly carved and colored in glorious pinks and yellows with a flower design. Opening this, he exposed a row of glass vials resting on beds of cotton. Each vial contained some nail parings. He took out the vials one by one, looked at their labels inscribed in Chinese characters, and placed them on an ivory tray. As he read each label a curious smile of satisfaction spread over his features. When he had removed the last vial he sat at his desk, dipped a pen into India ink, and wrote two more labels in similar Chinese characters. When the ink had dried he placed these on two empty vials taken from a receptacle on his desk. The vials were placed with the others in the ebony box and locked in the safe. The inscriptions he read on the labels were the names of men who had died sudden and violent deaths in the East Indies while he had lived at Batavia. The labels he filled out carried the names of Adriaan Adriaanszoon Van Schouten and Peter Gross. CHAPTER III PETER GROSS IS NAMED RESIDENT "Sailor, the penalty for threatening the life of any citizen is penal servitude on the state's coffee-plantations." The governor's voice rang harshly, and he scowled across the big table in his cabinet-room at the _Coryander's_ mate sitting opposite him. His hooked nose and sharp-pointed chin with its finely trimmed Van Dyke beard jutted forward rakishly. "I ask no other justice than your excellency's own sense of equity suggests," Peter Gross replied quietly. "H'mm!" the governor hummed. He looked at the _Coryander's_ mate keenly for a few moments through half-closed lids. Suddenly he said: "And what if I should appoint you a resident, sailor?" Peter Gross's lips pressed together tightly, but otherwise he gave no sign of his profound astonishment at the governor's astounding proposal. Sinking deeper into his chair until his head sagged on his breast, he deliberated before replying. "Your excellency is in earnest?" "I do not jest on affairs of state, Mynheer Gross. What is your answer?" Peter Gross paused. "Your excellency overwhelms me--" he began, but Van Schouten cut him short. "Enough! When I have work to do I choose the man who I think can do it. Then you accept?" "Your excellency, to my deep regret I must most respectfully decline." A look of blank amazement spread over the governor's face. Then his eyes blazed ominously. "Decline! Why?" he roared. "For several reasons," Peter Gross replied with disarming mildness. "In the first place I am under contract with Captain Threthaway of the _Coryander_--" "I will arrange that with your captain," the governor broke in. "In the second place I am neither a soldier nor a politician--" "That is for me to consider," the governor retorted. "In the third place, I am a citizen of the United States and therefore not eligible to any civil appointment from the government of the Netherlands." "_Donder en bliksem!_" the governor exclaimed. "I thought you were a freeholder here." "I am," Peter Gross admitted. "The land I won is at Riswyk. I expect to make it my home when I retire from the sea." "How long have you owned that land?" "For nearly seven years." The governor stroked his beard. "You talk Holland like a Hollander, Mynheer Gross," he observed. "My mother was of Dutch descent," Peter Gross explained. "I learned the language from her." "Good!" Van Schouten inclined his head with a curt nod of satisfaction. "Half Holland is all Holland. We can take steps to make you a citizen at once." "I don't care to surrender my birthright." Peter Gross negatived quietly. "What!" Van Schouten shouted. "Not for a resident's post? And eight thousand guilders a year? And a land grant in Java that will make you rich for life if you make those hill tribes stick to their plantations? What say you to this, Mynheer Gross?" His lips curved with a smile of anticipation. "The offer is tempting and the honor great," Peter Gross acknowledged quietly. "But I can not forget I was born an American." Van Schouten leaned back in his chair with a look of astonishment. "You refuse?" he asked incredulously. "I am sorry, your excellency!" Peter Gross's tone was unmistakably firm. "You refuse?" the governor repeated, still unbelieving. "Eight--thousand--guilders! And a land grant that will make you rich for life!" "I am an American, and American I shall stay." The governor's eyes sparkled with admiration. "By the beard of Orange!" he exclaimed, "it is no wonder you Yankees have sucked the best blood of the world into your country." He leaned forward confidentially. "Mynheer Gross, I cannot appoint you resident if you refuse to take the oath of allegiance to the queen. But I can make you special agent of the _gouverneur-generaal_. I can make you a resident in fact, if not in name, of a country larger than half the Netherlands, larger than many of your own American States. I can give you the rewards I have pledged you, a fixed salary and the choice of a thousand hectares of our fairest state lands in Java. What do you say?" He leaned forward belligerently. In that posture his long, coarse hair rose bristly above his neck, giving him something of the appearance of a gamecock with feathers ruffled. It was this peculiarity that first suggested the name he was universally known by throughout the Sundas, "De Kemphaan" (The Gamecock). "To what province would you appoint me?" Peter Gross asked slowly. The governor hesitated. With the air of a poker player forced to show his hand he confessed: "It is a difficult post, mynheer, and needs a strong man as resident. It is the residency of Bulungan, Borneo." There was the faintest flicker in Peter Gross's eyes. Van Schouten watched him narrowly. In the utter stillness that followed the governor could hear his watch tick. Peter Gross rose abruptly, leaped for the door, and threw it open. He looked straight into the serene, imperturbable face of Chi Wung Lo, autocrat of the governor's domestic establishment. Chi Wung bore a delicately lacquered tray of Oriental design on which were standing two long, thin, daintily cut glasses containing cooling limes that bubbled fragrantly. Without a word he swept grandly in and placed the glasses on the table, one before the governor, and the other before Peter Gross's vacant chair. "Ha!" Van Schouten exclaimed, smacking his lips. "Chi Wung, you peerless, priceless servant, how did you guess our needs?" With a bland bow and never a glance at Peter Gross, Chi Wung strutted out in Oriental dignity, carrying his empty tray. Peter Gross closed the door carefully, and walked slowly back. "I was about to say, your excellency," he murmured, "that Bulungan has not a happy reputation." "It needs a strong man to rule it," the governor acknowledged, running his glance across Peter Gross's broad shoulders in subtle compliment. "Those who have held the post of resident there found early graves." "You are young, vigorous. You have lived here long enough to know how to escape the fevers." "There are worse enemies in Bulungan than the fevers," Peter Gross replied. "It is not for nothing that Bulungan is known as the graveyard of Borneo." The governor glanced at Peter Gross's strong face and stalwart form regretfully. "Your refusal is final?" he asked. "On the contrary, if your excellency will meet one condition, I accept," Peter Gross replied. The governor put his glass down sharply and stared at the sailor. "You accept this post?" he demanded. "Upon one condition, yes!" "What is that condition?" "That I be allowed a free hand." "H'mm!" Van Schouten drew a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. The sharp, Julian cast of countenance was never more pronounced, and the eagle eyes gleamed inquiringly, calculatingly. Peter Gross looked steadily back. The minutes passed and neither spoke. "Why do you want to go there?" the governor exclaimed suddenly. He leaned forward in his chair till his eyes burned across a narrow two feet into Peter Gross's own. The strong, firm line of Peter Gross's lips tightened. He rested one elbow on the table and drew nearer the governor. His voice was little more than a murmur as he said: "Your excellency, let me tell you the story of Bulungan." The governor's face showed surprise. "Proceed," he directed. "Six years ago, when your excellency was appointed governor-general of the Netherlands East Indies," Peter Gross began, "Bulungan was a No Man's land, although nominally under the Dutch flag. The pirates that infested the Celebes sea and the straits of Macassar found ports of refuge in its jungle-banked rivers and marsh mazes where no gun-boat could find them. The English told your government that if it did not stamp out piracy and subjugate the Dyaks, it would. That meant loss of the province to the Dutch crown. Accordingly you sent General Van Heemkerken there with eight hundred men who marched from the lowlands to the highlands and back again, burning every village they found, but meeting no Dyaks except old men and women too helpless to move. General Van Heemkerken reported to you that he had pacified the country. On his report you sent Mynheer Van Scheltema there as resident, and Cupido as _controlleur_. Within six months Van Scheltema was bitten by an adder placed in his bedroom and Cupido was assassinated by a hill Dyak, who threw him out of a dugout into a river swarming with crocodiles. "_Lieve hemel_, no!" Van Schouten cried. "Van Scheltema and Cupido died of the fevers." "So it was reported to your excellency," Peter Gross replied gravely. "I tell you the facts." The governor's thin, spiked jaw shot out like a vicious thorn and his teeth clicked. "Go on," he directed sharply. "For a year there was neither resident nor _controlleur_ at Bulungan. Then the pirates became so bold that you again took steps to repress them. The stockade at the village of Bulungan was enlarged and the garrison was increased to fifty men. Lieutenant Van Slyck, the commandant, was promoted to captain. A new resident was appointed, Mynheer de Jonge, a very dear friend of your excellency. He was an old man, estimable and honest, but ill-fitted for such a post, a failure in business, and a failure as a resident. Time after time your excellency wrote him concerning piracies, hillmen raids, and head-hunting committed in his residency or the adjoining seas. Each time he replied that your excellency must be mistaken, that the pirates and head-hunters came from other districts." The governor's eyes popped in amazement. "How do you know this?" he exclaimed, but Peter Gross ignored the question. "Finally about two years ago Mynheer de Jonge, through an accident, learned that he had been deceived by those he had trusted, had a right to trust. A remark made by a drunken native opened his eyes. One night he called out Captain Van Slyck and the latter's commando and made a flying raid. He all but surprised a band of pirates looting a captured schooner and might have taken them had they not received a warning of his coming. That raid made him a marked man. Within two weeks he was poisoned by being pricked as he slept with a thorn dipped in the juice of the deadly upas tree." "He was a suicide!" the governor exclaimed, his face ashen. "They brought me a note in his own handwriting." "In which it was stated that he killed himself because he felt he had lost your excellency's confidence?" "You know that, too?" Van Schouten whispered huskily. "Your excellency has suffered remorse without cause," Peter Gross declared quietly. "The note is a forgery." The governor's hands gripped the edge of the table. "You can prove that?" he cried. "For the present your excellency must be satisfied with my word. As resident of Bulungan I hope to secure proofs that will satisfy a court of justice." The governor gazed at Peter Gross intently. A conflict of emotions, amazement, unbelief, and hope were expressed on his face. "Why should I believe you?" he demanded fiercely. Peter Gross's face hardened. The sternness of the magistrate was on his brow as he replied: "Your excellency remembers the schooner _Tetrina_, attacked by Chinese and Dyak pirates off the coast of Celebes three years ago? All her crew were butchered except two left on the deck that night for dead. I was one of the two, your excellency. My dead comrades have left me a big debt to pay. That is why I will go to Bulungan." The governor rose. Decision was written on his brow. "Meet us here to-night, Mynheer Gross," he said. "There is much to discuss with Mynheer Sachsen before you leave. God grant you may be the instrument of His eternal justice." Peter Gross raised a hand of warning. "Sometimes the very walls have ears, your excellency," he cautioned. "If I am to be resident of Bulungan no word of the appointment must leak out until I arrive there." CHAPTER IV KOYALA'S PRAYER It was a blistering hot day in Bulungan. The heavens were molten incandescence. The muddy river that bisected the town wallowed through its estuary, a steaming tea-kettle. The black muck-fields baked and flaked under the torrid heat. The glassy surface of the bay, lying within the protecting crook of a curling tail of coral reef, quivered under the impact of the sun's rays like some sentient thing. In the village that nestled where fresh and salt water met, the streets were deserted, almost lifeless. Gaunt pariah dogs, driven by the acid-sharp pangs of a never-satiated hunger, sniffed among the shadows of the bamboo and palmleaf huts, their backs arched and their tails slinking between their legs. Too weak to grab their share of the spoil in the hurly-burly, they scavenged in these hours of universal inanity. The doors of the huts were tightly closed--barricaded against the heat. The merchant in his dingy shop, the fisherman in his house on stilts, and the fashioner of metals in his thatched cottage in the outskirts slept under their mats. Apoplexy was the swift and sure fate of those who dared the awful torridity. Dawn had foretold the heat. The sun shot above the purple and orange waters of the bay like a conflagration. The miasmal vapors that clustered thickly about the flats by night gathered their linen and fled like the hunted. They were scurrying upstream when Bogoru, the fisherman, walked out on his sampan landing. He looked at the unruffled surface of the bay, and then looked upward quickly at the lane of tall kenari trees between the stockade and government buildings on an elevation a short distance back of the town. The spindly tops of the trees pointed heavenward with the rigidity of church spires. "There will be no chaetodon sold at the _visschersmarkt_ (fishmart) to-day," he observed. "Kismet!" With a patient shrug of his shoulders he went back to his hut and made sure there was a plentiful supply of sirih and cooling limes on hand. In the fruit-market Tagotu, the fruiterer, set out a tempting display of mangosteen, durian, dookoo, and rambootan, pineapples, and pomegranates, jars of agar-agar, bowls of rice, freshly cooked, and pitchers of milk. The square was damp from the heavy night dew when he set out the first basket, it was dry as a fresh-baked brick when he put out the last. The heavy dust began to flood inward. Tagotu noticed with dismay how thin the crowd was that straggled about the market-place. Chepang, his neighbor, came out of his stall and observed: "The monsoon has failed again. Bunungan will stay in his huts to-day." "It is the will of Allah," Tagotu replied patiently. Putting aside his offerings, he lowered the shades of his shop and composed himself for a siesta. On the hill above the town, where the rude fort and the government buildings gravely faced the sea, the heat also made itself felt. The green blinds of the milk-white residency building, that was patterned as closely as tropical conditions would permit after the quaint architecture of rural Overysel, were tightly closed. The little cluster of residences around it, the _controlleur's_ house and the homes of Marinus Blauwpot and Wang Fu, the leading merchants of the place, were similarly barricaded. For "Amsterdam," the fashionable residential suburb of Bulungan village, was fighting the same enemy as "Rotterdam," the town below, an enemy more terrible than Dyak blow-pipes and Dyak poisoned arrows, the Bornean sun. Like Bogoru, the fisherman, and Tagotu, the fruit-vender, Cho Seng, Mynheer Muller's valet and cook, had seen the threat the sunrise brought. The sun's copper disc was dyeing the purple and blue waters of the bay with vermilion and magentas when he pad-padded out on the veranda of the _controlleur's_ house. He was clad in the meticulously neat brown jeans that he wore at all times and occasions except funeral festivals, and in wicker sandals. With a single sweep of his eyes he took in the kenari-tree-lined land that ran to the gate of the stockade where a sleepy sentinel, hunched against a pert brass cannon, nodded his head drowsily. The road was tenantless. He shot another glance down the winding pathway that led by the houses of Marinus Blauwpot and Wang Fu to the town below. That also was unoccupied. Stepping off the veranda, he crossed over to an unshaded spot directly in front of the house and looked intently seaward to where a junk lay at anchor. The brown jeans against the milk-white paint of the house threw his figure in sharp relief. Cho Seng waited until a figure showed itself on the deck of the junk. Then he shaded his eye with his arm. The Chinaman on the deck of the junk must have observed the figure of his fellow countryman on the hill, for he also shaded his eyes with his arm. Cho Seng looked quickly to the right--to the left. There was no one stirring. The sentinel at the gate drowsed against the carriage of the saucy brass cannon. Shading his eyes once more with a quick gesture, Cho Seng walked ten paces ahead. Then he walked back five paces. Making a sharp angle he walked five paces to one side. Then he turned abruptly and faced the jungle. The watcher on the junk gave no sign that he had seen this curious performance. But as Cho Seng scuttled back into the house, he disappeared into the bowels of the ugly hulk. An hour passed before Cho Seng reappeared on the veranda. He cast only a casual glance at the junk and saw that it was being provisioned. After listening for a moment to the rhythmic snoring that came from the chamber above--Mynheer Muller's apartment--he turned the corner of the house and set off at a leisurely pace toward the tangle of mangroves, banyan, bamboo cane, and ferns that lay a quarter of a mile inland on the same elevation on which the settlement and stockade stood. There was nothing in his walk to indicate that he had a definite objective. He strolled along in apparent aimlessness, as though taking a morning's constitutional. Overhead hundreds of birds created a terrific din; green and blue-billed gapers shrilled noisily; lories piped their matin lays, and the hoarse cawing of the trogons mingled discordantly with the mellow notes of the mild cuckoos. A myriad insect life buzzed and hummed around him, and scurried across his pathway. Pale white flowers of the night that lined the wall shrank modestly into their green cloisters before the bold eye of day. But Cho Seng passed them by unseeing, and unhearing. Nature had no existence for him except as it ministered unto his physical needs. Only once did he turn aside--a quick, panicky jump--and that was when a little spotted snake glided in front of him and disappeared into the underbrush. When he was well within the shadows of the mangroves, Cho Seng suddenly brightened and began to look about him keenly. Following a faintly defined path, he walked along in a circuitous route until he came to a clearing under the shade of a huge banyan tree whose aërial roots rose over his head. After peering furtively about and seeing no one he uttered a hoarse, guttural call, the call the great bird of paradise utters to welcome the sunrise--"Wowk, wowk, wowk." There was an immediate answer--the shrill note of the argus pheasant. It sounded from the right, near by, on the other side of a thick tangle of cane and creeper growth. Cho Seng paused in apparent disquietude at the border of the thicket, but as he hesitated, the call was repeated more urgently. Wrenching the cane apart, he stepped carefully into the underbrush. His progress through it was slow. At each step he bent low to make certain where his foot fell. He had a mortal fear of snakes--his nightmares were ghastly dreams of a loathsome death from a serpent's bite. There was a low ripple of laughter--girlish laughter. Cho Seng straightened quickly. To his right was another clearing, and in that clearing there was a woman, a young woman just coming into the bloom of a glorious beauty. She was seated on a gnarled aërial root. One leg was negligently thrown over the other, a slender, shapely arm reached gracefully upward to grasp a spur from another root, a coil of silky black hair, black as tropic night, lay over her gleaming shoulder. Her sarong, spotlessly white, hung loosely about her wondrous form and was caught with a cluster of rubies above her breasts. A sandal-covered foot, dainty, delicately tapering, its whiteness tanned with a faint tint of harvest brown, was thrust from the folds of the gown. At her side, in a silken scabbard, hung a light, skilfully wrought kris. The handle was studded with gems. "Good-morning, Cho Seng," the woman greeted demurely. Cho Seng, making no reply, snapped the cane aside and leaped through. Koyala laughed again, her voice tinkling like silver bells. The Chinaman's laborious progress through the cane had amused her. She knew why he stepped so carefully. "Good-morning, Cho Seng," Koyala repeated. Her mocking dark brown eyes tried to meet his, but Cho Seng looked studiedly at the ground, in the affected humility of Oriental races. "Cho Seng here," he announced. "What for um you wantee me?" He spoke huskily; a physician would instantly have suspected he was tubercular. Koyala's eyes twinkled. A woman, she knew she was beautiful. Wherever she went, among whites or Malays, Chinese, or Papuans, she was admired. But from this stolid, unfathomable, menial Chinaman she had never been able to evoke the one tribute that every pretty woman, no manner how good, demands from man--a glance of admiration. "Cho Seng," she pouted, "you have not even looked at me. Am I so ugly that you cannot bear to see me?" "What for um you wantee me?" Cho Seng reiterated. His neck was crooked humbly so that his eyes did not rise above the hem of her sarong, and his hands were tucked inside the wide sleeves of his jacket. His voice was as meek and mild and inoffensive as his manner. Koyala laughed mischievously. "I asked you a question, Cho Seng," she pointed out. The Chinaman salaamed again, even lower than before. His face was imperturbable as he repeated in the same mild, disarming accents: "What for um you wantee me?" Koyala made a moue. "That isn't what I asked you, Cho Seng," she exclaimed petulantly. The Chinaman did not move a muscle. Silent, calm as a deep-sea bottom, his glance fixed unwaveringly on a little spot of black earth near Koyala's foot, he awaited her reply. Leveque's daughter shrugged her shoulders in hopeless resignation. Ever since she had known him she had tried to surprise him into expressing some emotion. Admiration, fear, grief, vanity, cupidity--on all these chords she had played without producing response. His imperturbability roused her curiosity, his indifference to her beauty piqued her, and, womanlike, she exerted herself to rouse his interest that she might punish him. So far she had been unsuccessful, but that only gave keener zest to the game. Koyala was half Dyak, she had in her veins the blood of the little brown brother who follows his enemy for months, sometimes years, until he brings home another dripping head to set on his lodge-pole. Patience was therefore her birthright. "Very well, Cho Seng, if you think I am ugly--" She paused and arched an eyebrow to see the effect of her words. Cho Seng's face was as rigid as though carved out of rock. When she saw he did not intend to dispute her, Koyala flushed and concluded sharply: "--then we will talk of other things. What has happened at the residency during the past week?" Cho Seng shot a furtive glance upward. "What for um?" he asked cautiously. "Oh, everything." Koyala spoke with pretended indifference. "Tell me, does your _baas_, the _mynheer_, ever mention me?" "Mynheer Muller belly much mad, belly much drink _jenever_ (gin), belly much say 'damn-damn, Cho Seng,'" the Chinaman grunted. Koyala's laughter rang out merrily in delicious peals that started the rain-birds and the gapers to vain emulation. Cho Seng hissed a warning and cast apprehensive glances about the jungle, but Koyala, mocking the birds, provoked a hubbub of furious scolding overhead and laughed again. "There's nobody near to hear us," she asserted lightly. "Mebbe him in bush," Cho Seng warned. "Not when the southeast monsoon ceases to blow," Koyala negatived. "Mynheer Muller loves his bed too well when our Bornean sun scorches us like to-day. But tell me what your master has been doing?" She snuggled into a more comfortable position on the root. Cho Seng folded his hands over his stomach. "Morning him sleep," he related laconically. "Him eat. Him speakee _orang kaya_, Wobanguli, drink _jenever_. Him speakee Kapitein Van Slyck, drink _jenever_. Him sleep some more. Bimeby when sun so-so--" Cho Seng indicated the position of the sun in late afternoon--"him go speakee Mynheer Blauwpot, eat some more. Bimeby come home, sleep. Plenty say 'damn-damn, Cho Seng.'" "Does he ever mention me?" Koyala asked. Her eyes twinkled coquettishly. "Plenty say nothing," Cho Seng replied. Koyala's face fell. "He doesn't speak of me at all?" Cho Seng shot a sidelong glance at her. "Him no speakee Koyala, him plenty drink _jenever_, plenty say 'damn-damn, Cho Seng.'" He looked up stealthily to see the effect of his words. Koyala crushed a fern underfoot with a vicious dab of her sandaled toes. Something like the ghost of a grin crossed the Chinaman's face, but it was too well hidden for Koyala to see it. "How about Kapitein Van Slyck? Has he missed me?" Koyala asked. "It is a week since I have been at the residency. He must have noticed it." "Kapitein Van Slyck him no speakee Koyala," the Chinaman declared. Koyala looked at him sternly. "I cannot believe that, Cho Seng," she said. "The captain must surely have noticed that I have not been in Amsterdam. You are not telling me an untruth, are you, Cho Seng?" The Chinaman was meekness incarnate as he reiterated: "Him no speakee Koyala." Displeasure gathered on Koyala's face like a storm-cloud. She leaped suddenly from the aërial root and drew herself upright. At the same moment she seemed to undergo a curious transformation. The light, coquettish mood passed away like dabs of sunlight under a fitful April sky, an imperious light gleamed in her eyes and her voice rang with authority as she said: "Cho Seng, you are the eyes and the ears of Ah Sing in Bulungan--" The Chinaman interrupted her with a sibilant hiss. His mask of humility fell from him and he darted keen and angry glances about the cane. "When Koyala Bintang Burung speaks it is your place to listen, Cho Seng," Koyala asserted sternly. Her voice rang with authority. Under her steady glance the Chinaman's furtive eyes bushed themselves in his customary pose of irreproachable meekness. "You are the eyes and ears of Ah Sing in Bulungan," Koyala reaffirmed, speaking deliberately and with emphasis. "You know that there is a covenant between your master, your master in Batavia, and the council of the _orang kayas_ of the sea Dyaks of Bulungan, whereby the children of the sea sail in the proas of Ah Sing when the _Hanu Token_ come to Koyala on the night winds and tell her to bid them go." The Chinaman glanced anxiously about the jungle, fearful that a swaying cluster of cane might reveal the presence of an eavesdropper. "S-ss-st," he hissed. Koyala's voice hardened. "Tell your master this," she said. "The spirits of the highlands speak no more through the mouth of the Bintang Burung till the eyes and ears of Ah Sing become her eyes and ears, too." There was a significant pause. Cho Seng's face shifted and he looked at her slantwise to see how seriously he should take the declaration. What he saw undoubtedly impressed him with the need of promptly placating her, for he announced: "Cho Seng tellee Mynheer Muller Koyala go hide in bush--big _baas_ in Batavia say muchee damn-damn, give muchee gold for Koyala." The displeasure in Koyala's flushed face mounted to anger. "No, you cannot take credit for that, Cho Seng," she exclaimed sharply. "Word came to Mynheer Muller from the governor direct that a price of many guilders was put on my head." Her chin tilted scornfully. "Did you think Koyala was so blind that she did not see the gun-boat in Bulungan harbor a week ago to-day?" Cho Seng met her heat with Oriental calm. "Bang-bang boat, him come six-seven day ago," he declared. "Cho Seng, him speakee Mynheer Muller Koyala go hide in bush eight-nine day." "The gun-boat was in the harbor the morning Mynheer Muller told me," Koyala retorted, and stopped in sudden recollection. A tiny flash of triumph lit the Chinaman's otherwise impassive face as he put her unspoken thought into words: "_Kapitein_ him bang-bang boat come see Mynheer Muller _namiddag_," (afternoon) he said, indicating the sun's position an hour before sunset. "Mynheer Muller tellee Koyala _voormiddag_" (forenoon). He pointed to the sun's morning position in the eastern sky. "That is true," Koyala assented thoughtfully, and paused. "How did you hear of it?" Cho Seng tucked his hands inside his sleeves and folded them over his paunch. His neck was bent forward and his eyes lowered humbly. Koyala knew what the pose portended; it was the Chinaman's refuge in a silence that neither plea nor threat could break. She rapidly recalled the events of that week. "There was a junk from Macassar in Bulungan harbor two weeks--no, eleven days ago," she exclaimed. "Did that bring a message from Ah Sing?" A startled lift of the Chinaman's chin assured her that her guess was correct. Another thought followed swift on the heels of the first. "The same junk is in the harbor to-day--came here just before sundown last night," she exclaimed. "What message did it bring, Cho Seng?" The Chinaman's face was like a mask. His lips were compressed tightly--it was as though he defied her to wedge them open and to force him to reveal his secret. An angry sparkle lit Koyala's eyes for a moment, she stepped a pace toward him and her hand dropped to the hilt of the jeweled kris, then she stopped short. A fleeting look of cunning replaced the angry gleam; a half-smile came and vanished on her lips almost in the same instant. Her face lifted suddenly toward the leafy canopy. Her arms were flung upward in a supplicating gesture. The Chinaman, watching her from beneath his lowered brow, looked up in startled surprise. Koyala's form became rigid, a Galatea turned back to marble. Her breath seemed to cease, as though she was in a trance. The color left her face, left even her lips. Strangely enough, her very paleness made the Dyak umber in her cheeks more pronounced. Her lips parted. A low crooning came forth. The Chinaman's knees quaked and gave way as he heard the sound. His body bent from the waist till his head almost touched the ground. The crooning gradually took the form of words. It was the Malay tongue she spoke--a language Cho Seng knew. The rhythmic beating of his head against his knees ceased and he listened eagerly, with face half-lifted. "_Hanu Token, Hanu Token_, spirits of the highlands, whither are you taking me?" Koyala cried. She paused, and a deathlike silence followed. Suddenly she began speaking again, her figure swaying like a tall lily stalk in a spring breeze, her voice low-pitched and musically mystic like the voice of one speaking from a far distance. "I see the jungle, the jungle where the mother of rivers gushes out of the great smoking mountain. I see the pit of serpents in the jungle--" A trembling seized Cho Seng. "The serpents are hungry, they have not been fed, they clamor for the blood of a man. I see him whose foot is over the edge of the pit, he slips, he falls, he tries to catch himself, but the bamboo slips out of his clutching fingers--I see his face--it is the face of him whose tongue speaks double, it is the face of--" A horrible groan burst from the Chinaman. He staggered to his feet. "_Neen, neen, neen, neen_," he cried hoarsely in an agonized negative. "Cho Seng tellee Bintang Burung--" A tremulous sigh escaped from Koyala's lips. Her body shook as though swayed by the wind. Her eyes opened slowly, vacantly, as though she was awakening from a deep sleep. She looked at Cho Seng with an absent stare, seeming to wonder why he was there, why she was where she was. The Chinaman, made voluble through fear, chattered: "Him junk say big _baas gouverneur_ speakee muchee damn-damn; no gambir, no rice, no copra, no coffee from Bulungan one-two year; sendee new resident bimeby belly quick." Koyala's face paled. "Send a new resident?" she asked incredulously. "What of Mynheer Muller?" The look of fear left Cho Seng's face. Involuntarily his neck bent and his fingers sought each other inside the sleeves. There was cunning mingled with malice in his eyes as he looked up furtively and feasted on her manifest distress. "Him chop-chop," he announced laconically. "They will kill him?" Koyala cried. The Chinaman had said his word. None knew better than he the value of silence. He stood before her in all humbleness and calmly awaited her next word. All the while his eyes played on her in quick, cleverly concealed glances. Koyala fingered the handle of the kris as she considered what the news portended. Her face slowly hardened--there was a look in it of the tigress brought to bay. "Koyala bimeby mally him--Mynheer Muller, go hide in bush?" Cho Seng ventured. The question was asked with such an air of simple innocence and friendly interest that none could take offense. Koyala flushed hotly. Then her nose and chin rose high with pride. "The Bintang Burung will wed no man, Cho Seng," she declared haughtily. "The blood of Chawatangi dies in me, but not till Bulungan is purged of the _orang blanda_" (white race). She whipped the jeweled kris out of its silken scabbard. "When the last white man spills his heart on the coral shore and the wrongs done Chawatangi's daughter, my mother, have been avenged, then Koyala will go to join the _Hanu Token_ that call her, call her--" She thrust the point of the kris against her breast and looked upward toward the far-distant hills and the smoking mountain. A look of longing came into her eyes, the light of great desire, almost it seemed as if she would drive the blade home and join the spirits she invoked. With a sigh she lowered the point of the kris and slipped it back into its sheath. "No, Cho Seng," she said, "Mynheer Muller is nothing to me. No man will ever be anything to me. But your master has been a kind elder brother to Koyala. And like me, he has had to endure the shame of an unhappy birth." Her voice sank to a whisper. "For his mother, Cho Seng, as you know, was a woman of Celebes." She turned swiftly away that he might not see her face. After a moment she said in a voice warm with womanly kindness and sympathy: "Therefore you and I must take care of him, Cho Seng. He is weak, he is untruthful, he has made a wicked bargain with your master, Ah Sing, which the spirits of the hills tell me he shall suffer for, but he is only what his white father made him, and the _orang blanda_ must pay!" Her lips contracted grimly. "Ay, pay to the last drop of blood! You will be true to him, Cho Seng?" The Chinaman cast a furtive glance upward and found her mellow dark-brown eyes looking at him earnestly. The eyes seemed to search his very soul. "_Ja, ja_," he pledged. "Then go, tell the captain of the junk to sail quickly to Macassar and send word by a swift messenger to Ah Sing that he must let me know the moment a new resident is appointed. There is no wind and the sun is high; therefore the junk will still be in the harbor. Hurry, Cho Seng!" Without a word the Chinaman wheeled and shuffled down the woodland path that led from the clearing toward the main highway. Koyala looked after him fixedly. "If his skin were white he could not be more false," she observed bitterly. "But he is Ah Sing's slave, and Ah Sing needs me, so I need not fear him--yet." She followed lightly after Cho Seng until she could see the prim top of the residency building gleaming white through the trees. Then she stopped short. Her face darkened as the Dyak blood gathered thickly. A look of implacable hate and passion distorted it. Her eyes sought the distant hills: "_Hanu Token, Hanu Token_, send a young man here to rule Bulungan," she prayed. "Send a strong man, send a vain man, with a passion for fair women. Let me dazzle him with my beauty, let me fill his heart with longing, let me make his brain reel with madness, let me make his body sick with desire. Let me make him suffer a thousand deaths before he gasps his last breath and his dripping head is brought to thy temple in the hills. For the wrongs done Chawatangi's daughter, _Hanu Token_, for the wrongs done me!" With a low sob she fled inland through the cane. CHAPTER V SACHSEN'S WARNING Electric tapers were burning dimly in Governor-General Van Schouten's sanctum at the _paleis_ that evening as Peter Gross was ushered in. The governor was seated in a high-backed, elaborately carved mahogany chair before a highly polished mahogany table. Beside him was the omniscient, the indispensable Sachsen. The two were talking earnestly in the Dutch language. Van Schouten acknowledged Peter Gross's entrance with a curt nod and directed him to take a chair on the opposite side of the table. At a word from his superior, Sachsen tucked the papers he had been studying into a portfolio. The governor stared intently at his visitor for a moment before he spoke. "Mynheer Gross," he announced sharply, "your captain tells me your contract with him runs to the end of the voyage. He will not release you." "Then I must fill my contract, your excellency," Peter Gross replied. Van Schouten frowned with annoyance. He was not accustomed to being crossed. "When will you be able to take over the administration of Bulungan, _mynheer_?" Peter Gross's brow puckered thoughtfully. "In three weeks--let us say thirty days, your excellency." "_Donder en bliksem!_" the governor exclaimed. "We need you there at once." "That is quite impossible, your excellency. I will need help, men that I can trust and who know the islands. Such men cannot be picked up in a day." "You can have the pick of my troops." "I should prefer to choose my own men, your excellency," Peter Gross replied. "Eh? How so, _mynheer_?" The governor's eyes glinted with suspicion. "Your excellency has been so good as to promise me a free hand," Peter Gross replied quietly. "I have a plan in mind--if your excellency desires to hear it?" Van Schouten's face cleared. "We shall discuss that later, _mynheer_. You will be ready to go the first of June, then?" "On the first of June I shall await your excellency's pleasure here at Batavia," Peter Gross agreed. "_Nu!_ that is settled!" The governor gave a grunt of satisfaction and squared himself before the table. His expression became sternly autocratic. "Mynheer Gross," he said, "you told us this afternoon some of the history of our unhappy residency of Bulungan. You demonstrated to our satisfaction a most excellent knowledge of conditions there. Some of the things you spoke of were--I may say--surprising. Some touched upon matters which we thought were known only to ourselves and to our privy council. But, _mynheer_, you did not mention one subject that to our mind is the gravest problem that confronts our representatives in Bulungan. Perhaps you do not know there is such a problem. Or perhaps you underestimate its seriousness. At any rate, we deem it desirable to discuss this matter with you in detail, that you may thoroughly understand the difficulties before you, and our wishes in the matter. We have requested Mynheer Sachsen to speak for us." He nodded curtly at his secretary. "You may proceed, Sachsen." Sachsen's white head, that had bent low over the table during the governor's rather pompous little speech, slowly lifted. His shrewd gray eyes twinkled kindly. His lips parted in a quaintly humorous and affectionate smile. "First of all, Vrind Pieter, let me congratulate you," he said, extending a hand across the table. Peter Gross's big paw closed over it with a warm pressure. "And let me thank you, Vrind Sachsen," he replied. "It was not hard to guess who brought my name to his excellency's attention." "It is Holland's good fortune that you are here," Sachsen declared. "Had you not been worthy, Vrind Pieter, I should not have recommended you." He looked at the firm, strong face and the deep, broad chest and massive shoulders of his protégé with almost paternal fondness. "To have earned your good opinion is reward enough in itself," Peter Gross asserted. Sachsen's odd smile, that seemed to find a philosophic humor in everything, deepened. "Your reward, Vrind Pieter," he observed, "is the customary recompense of the man who proves his wisdom and his strength--a more onerous duty. Bulungan will test you severely, _vrind_ (friend). Do you believe that?" "Ay," Peter Gross assented soberly. "Pray God to give you wisdom and strength," Sachsen advised gravely. He bowed his head for a moment, then stirred in his chair and sat up alertly. "_Nu!_ as to the work that lies before you, I need not tell you the history of this residency. For Sachsen to presume to instruct Peter Gross in what has happened in Bulungan would be folly. As great folly as to lecture a dominie on theology." Again the quaintly humorous quirk of the lips. "If Peter Gross knew the archipelago half so well as his good friend Sachsen he would be a lucky man," Peter Gross retorted spiritedly. Sachsen's face became suddenly grave. "We do not doubt your knowledge of conditions in our unhappy province, Vrind Pieter. Nor do we doubt your ability, your courage, or your sound judgment. But, Pieter--" He paused. The clear gray eyes of Peter Gross met his questioningly. "--You are young, Vrind Pieter." The governor rose abruptly and plucked down from the wall a long-stemmed Dutch pipe that was suspended by a gaily colored cord from a stout peg. He filled the big china bowl of the pipe with nearly a half-pound of tobacco, touched a light to the weed, and returned to his chair. There was a pregnant silence in the room meanwhile. "How old are you, Vrind Pieter?" Sachsen asked gently. "Twenty-five, _mynheer_," Peter Gross replied. There was a pronounced emphasis on the "_mynheer_." "Twenty-five," Sachsen murmured fondly. "Twenty-five! Just my age when I was a student at Leyden and the gayest young scamp of them all." He shook his head. "Twenty-five is very young, Vrind Pieter." "That is a misfortune which only time can remedy," Peter Gross replied drily. "Yes, only time." Sachsen's eyes misted. "Time that brings the days 'when strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders shall cease because they are few, and the grasshopper shall become a burden, and desire shall fail.' I wish you were older, Vrind Pieter." The old man sighed. There was a far-away look in his eyes as though he were striving to pierce the future and the leagues between Batavia and Bulungan. "Vrind Gross," he resumed softly, "we have known each other a long time. Eight years is a long time, and it is eight years since you first came to Batavia. You were a cabin-boy then, and you ran away from your master because he beat you. The wharfmaster at Tanjong Priok found you, and was taking you back to your master when old Sachsen saw you. Old Sachsen got you free and put you on another ship, under a good master, who made a good man and a good _zeeman_ (seaman) out of you. Do you remember?" "I shall never forget!" Peter Gross's voice was vibrant with emotion. "Old Sachsen was your friend then. He has been your friend through the years since then. He is your friend to-day. Do you believe that?" Peter Gross impulsively reached his hand across the table. Sachsen grasped it and held it. "Then to-night you will forgive old Sachsen if he speaks plainly to you, more plainly than you would let other men talk? You will listen, and take his words to heart, and consider them well, Pieter?" "Speak, Sachsen!" "I knew you would listen, Pieter." Sachsen drew a deep breath. His eyes rested fondly on his protégé, and he let go Gross's hand reluctantly as he leaned back in his chair. "Vrind Pieter, you said a little while ago that old Sachsen knows the people who live in these _kolonien_ (colonies). His knowledge is small--" Peter Gross made a gesture of dissent, but Sachsen did not let him interrupt. "Yet he has learned some things. It is something to have served the state for over two-score years in the Netherlands East Indies, first as _controlleur_, then as resident in Celebes, in Sumatra, in Java, and finally as secretary to the _gouverneur_, as old Sachsen has. In those years he has seen much that goes on in the hearts of the black, and the brown, and the yellow, and the white folk that live in these sun-seared islands. Much that is wicked, but also much that is good. And he has seen much of the fevers that seize men when the sun waves hot and the blood races madly through their veins. There is the fever of hate, and the fever of revenge, the fever of greed, and the fever to grasp God. But more universal than all these is the fever of love and the fever of lust!" Peter Gross's brow knit with a puzzled frown. "What do you mean, Sachsen?" he demanded. Sachsen smoothed back his thinning white hair. "I am an old, old man, Vrind Pieter," he replied "Desire has long ago failed me. The passions that our fiery Java suns breed in men have drained away. The light that is in a comely woman's eyes, the thrill that comes at a touch of her warm hand, the quickened pulse-beat at the feel of her silken hair brushing over one's face--all these things are ashes and dust to old Sachsen. Slim ankles, plump calves, and full rounded breasts mean nothing to him. But you, Vrind Pieter, are young. You are strong as a buffalo, bold as a tiger, vigorous as a banyan tree. You have a young man's warm blood in your veins. You have the poison of youth in your blood. You are a man's man, Peter Gross, but you are also a woman's man." Peter Gross's puzzled frown became a look of blank amazement. "What in the devil are you driving at, Sachsen?" he demanded, forgetting in his astonishment that he was in the governor's presence. Sachsen leaned forward, his eyes searching his protégé's. "Have you ever loved a woman, Pieter?" he countered softly. Peter Gross appeared to be choking. The veins in his forehead distended. "What has that to do with Bulungan?" he demanded. "You've known me since I was a lad, Sachsen; you've known all my comings and goings; why do you ask me such--rot?" A grimly humorous smile lit the governor's stern visage. "'Let the strong take heed lest they fall,'" Sachsen quoted quietly. "Since you say that you love no woman, let me ask you this--have you ever seen Koyala?" The little flash of passion left Peter Gross's face, but the puzzled frown remained. "Koyala," he repeated thoughtfully. "It seems to me I have heard the name, but I cannot recall how or when." "Think, think!" Sachsen urged, leaning eagerly over the table. "The half-white woman of Borneo, the French trader's daughter by a native woman, brought up and educated at a mission school in Sarawak. The Dyaks call her the _Bintang Burung_. Ha! I see you know her now." "Leveque's daughter, Chawatangi's grandchild?" Peter Gross exclaimed. "Of course I know her. Who doesn't?" His face sobered. "The unhappiest woman in the archipelago. I wonder she lives." "You have seen her?" Sachsen asked. Peter Gross's eyes twinkled reminiscently. "Ay, that I have." "Tell me about it," Sachsen urged, with an imperceptible gesture to the governor to say nothing. He leaned forward expectantly. Peter Gross cocked an eye at the ceiling. "Let me see, it was about a year ago," he said. "I was with McCloud, on the brig _Mary Dietrich_. McCloud heard at Macassar that there was a settlement of Dyaks at the mouth of the Abbas that wanted to trade in dammar gum and gambir and didn't ask too much _balas_ (tribute money). We crossed the straits and found the village. Wolang, the chief, gave us a big welcome. We spent one day palavering; these natives won't do anything without having a _bitchara_ first. The next morning I began loading operations, while McCloud entertained the _orang kaya_, Wolang, with a bottle of gin. "The natives crowded around pretty close, particularly the women, anxious to see what we were bringing ashore. One girl, quite a pretty girl, went so far as to step into the boat, and one of my men swung an arm around her and kissed her. She screamed." The governor took his pipe out of his mouth and looked up with interest. "The next minute the mob of Dyaks parted as though cut with a scythe. Down the lane came a woman, a white woman." He turned to the secretary. "You have seen her, Sachsen?" "_Ja_, Pieter." "Then you can guess how she keeled me over," Peter Gross said. "I took her for white woman, a pure blood. She is white; the brown in her skin is no deeper than in a Spaniard's. She walked up to me--I could see a hurricane was threatening--and she said: "'You are English? Go back to your ship, now; don't wait a minute, or you will leave your heads here.' "'Madam,' I said, 'the lad was hasty, but meant no harm. It will not happen again. I will make the lady a present.' "She turned a look on me that fairly withered me. '_You_ think you can buy our women, too?' she said, fairly spitting the words. 'Go! go! Don't you see my Dyaks fitting arrows in their blow-pipes?' "McCloud came running up with Chief Wolang. 'What's this?' he blustered, but Koyala only pointed to the sea and said the one word: "'Go!' "McCloud spoke to Wolang, but at a nod from Koyala the chief gave an order to his followers. Fifty Dyaks fitted poisoned arrows into their _sumpitans_. McCloud had good judgment; he knew when it was no use to _bitchara_ and show gin. We rowed back to the ship without the cargo we expected to load and set sail at once. Not an arrow followed us, but the last thing I saw of the village was Koyala on the beach, watching us dip into the big rollers of the Celebes Sea." "She is beautiful?" Sachsen suggested softly. "Ay, quite an attractive young female," Peter Gross agreed in utmost seriousness. The governor's grim smile threatened to break out into an open grin. Sachsen looked at the table-top thoughtfully and rubbed his hands. "She lost you a cargo," he stated. "You have a score to settle with her." He flashed a keen glance at his protégé. "By God, no!" Peter Gross exclaimed. He brought his fist down on the table. "She was right, eternally right. If a scoundrelly scum from over the sea tried to kiss a woman of my kin in that way I'd treat him a lot worse than we were treated." Van Schouten blew an angry snort that cut like a knife the huge cloud of tobacco-smoke in which he had enveloped himself. Peter Gross faced him truculently. "We deserved what we got," he asserted. "When we whites get over the notion that the world is a playground for us to spill our lusts and vices on and the lower races the playthings we can abuse as we please, we'll have peace in these islands. Our missionaries preach morals and Christianity; our traders, like that damned whelp, Leveque, break every law of God and man. Between the two the poor benighted heathen loses all the faith he has and sinks one grade lower in brutishness than his ancestors were before him. If all men were like Brooke of Sarawak we'd have had the East Indies Christianized by now. The natives were ready to make gods out of us--they did it with Brooke--but now they're looking for a chance to put a knife in our backs--a good many of them are." He checked himself. "Here I'm preaching. I beg your pardon, your excellency." Van Schouten blew another great cloud of tobacco-smoke and said nothing. Through the haze his eagle-keen eyes searched Peter Gross's face and noted the firm chin and tightly drawn lips with stern disapproval. Sachsen flashed him a warning glance to keep silent. "Mynheer Gross," the secretary entreated, "let me again beg the privileges of an old friend. Is it admiration for Koyala's beauty or your keen sense of justice that leads you to so warm a defense?" Peter Gross's reply was prompt and decisive. "Vrind Sachsen, if she had been a hag I'd have thought no different." "Search your heart, Vrind Pieter. Is it not because she was young and comely, a woman unafraid, that you remember her?" "Women are nothing to me," Peter Gross retorted irritably. "But right is right, and wrong is wrong, whether in Batavia or Bulungan." Sachsen shook his head. "Vrind Pieter," he declared sadly, "you make me very much afraid for you. If you had acknowledged, 'The woman was fair, a fair woman stirs me quickly,' I would have said: 'He is young and has eyes to see with, but he is too shrewd to be trapped.' But when you say: 'The fault was ours, we deserved to lose the cargo,' then I know that you are blind, blind to your own weakness, Pieter. Clever, wicked women make fools of such as you, Pieter." One eyebrow arched the merest trifle in the direction of the governor. Then Sachsen continued: "Vrind Pieter, I am here to-night to warn you against this woman. I have much to tell you about her, much that is unpleasant. Will you listen?" Peter Gross shrugged his shoulders. "I am at your service, Sachsen." "Will you listen with an open mind? Will you banish from your thoughts all recollection of the woman you saw at the mouth of the Abbas River, all that you know or think you know of her fancied wrongs, and hear what old Sachsen has to say of the evil she has done, of the crimes, the piracies, ay, even rebellions and treasons for which she has been responsible? What do you say, Vrind Pieter?" Pieter Gross swallowed hard. Words seemed to be struggling to his lips, but he kept them back. His teeth were pressed together tightly, the silence became tense. "Listen, Sachsen," he finally said. His voice was studiedly calm. "You come from an old, conservative race, a race that clings faithfully to the precepts and ideals of its fathers and is certain of its footing before it makes a step in advance. You have the old concept of woman, that her lot is to bear, to suffer, and to weep. I come from a fresher, newer race, a race that gives its women the same liberty of thought and action that it gives its men. Therefore there are many things concerning the conduct of this woman that we look at in different ways. Things that seem improper, ay, sometimes treasonable, to you, seem a perfectly natural protest to me. You ignore the wrongs she has suffered, wrongs that must make life a living hell to her. You say she must be content with the place to which God has called her, submerge the white blood in her, and live a savage among savages." Peter Gross pulled his chair nearer the table and leaned forward. His face glowed with an intense earnestness. "Great Scot, Sachsen, think of her condition! Half white, ay, half French, and that is as proud a race as breathes. Beautiful--beautiful as the sunrise. Taught in a missionary school, brought up as a white child among white children. And then, when the glory of her womanhood comes upon her, to learn she is an illegitimate, a half-breed, sister to the savage Dyaks, her only future in their filthy huts, to kennel with them, breed with them--God, what a horror that revelation must have been!" He raked his fingers through his hair and stared savagely at the wall. "You don't feel these things, Sachsen," he concluded. "You're Dutch to begin with, and so a conservative thinker. Then you've been ground through the routine of colonial service so many years that you've lost every viewpoint except the state's expediency. Thank God, I haven't! That is why I think I can do something for you in Bulungan--" He checked himself. "Common sense and a little elemental justice go a long, long way in dealing with savages," he observed. Sachsen's eyes looked steadily into Peter Gross's. Sachsen's kindly smile did not falter. But the governor's patience had reached its limit. "Look you here, Mynheer Gross," he exclaimed, "I want no sympathy for that she-devil from my resident." An angry retort leaped to Peter Gross's lips, but before it could be uttered Sachsen's hand had leaped across the table and had gripped his warningly. "She may be as beautiful as a houri, but she is a witch, a very Jezebel," the governor stormed. "I have nipped a dozen uprisings in the bud, and this Koyala has been at the bottom of all of them. She hates us _orang blandas_ with a hate that the fires of hell could not burn out, but she is subtler than the serpent that taught Mother Eve. She has bewitched my _controlleur_; see that she does not bewitch you. I have put a price on her head; your first duty will be to see that she is delivered for safe-keeping here in Batavia." The governor's eyes were sparkling fire. There was a like anger in Peter Gross's face; he was on the point of speaking when Sachsen's nails dug so deeply into his hand that he winced. "Mynheer Gross is an American, therefore he is chivalrous," Sachsen observed. "He aims to be just, but there is much that he does not understand. If your excellency will permit me--" Van Schouten gave assent by picking up his pipe and closing his teeth viciously on the mouthpiece. Sachsen promptly addressed Peter Gross. "Vrind Pieter," he said, "I am glad you have spoken. Now we understand each other. You are just what I knew you were, fearless, honest, frank. You have convinced me the more that you are the man we must have as resident of Bulungan." Peter Gross looked up distrustfully. Van Schouten, too, evinced his surprise by taking the pipe from his mouth. "But," Sachsen continued, "you have the common failing of youth. Youth dreams dreams, it would rebuild this sorry world and make it Paradise before the snake. It is sure it can. With age comes disillusionment. We learn we cannot do the things we have set our hands to do in the way we planned. We learn we must compromise. Once old Sachsen had thoughts like yours. To-day"--he smiled tenderly--"he has the beginnings of wisdom. That is, he has learned that God ordains. Do you believe that, Vrind Pieter?" "Ay, of course," Peter Gross acknowledged, a trifle bewildered. "But--" "Now, concerning this woman," Sachsen cut in briskly. "We will concede that she was wronged before she was born. We will concede the sin of her father. We will concede his second sin, leaving her mother to die in the jungle. We will concede the error, if error it was, to educate Koyala in a mission school among white children. We will concede the fatal error of permitting her to return to her own people, knowing the truth of her birth." His voice took a sharper turn. "But there are millions of children born in your own land, in my land, in every land, with deformed bodies, blind perhaps, crippled, with faces uglier than baboons. Why? Because one or both of their parents sinned. Now I ask you," he demanded harshly, "whether these children, because of the sin of their parents, have the right to commit crimes, plot murders, treasons, rebellions, and stir savage people to wars of extermination against their white rulers? What is your answer?" "That is not the question," Peter Gross began, but Sachsen interrupted. "It is the question. It was the sin of the parent in both cases. Leveque sinned; his daughter, Koyala, suffers. Parents sin everywhere, their children must suffer." Peter Gross stared at the wall thoughtfully. "Look you here, Vrind Pieter," Sachsen said, "learn this great truth. The state is first, then the individual. Always the good of the whole people, that is the state, first, then the good of the individual. Thousands may suffer, thousands may die, but if the race benefits, the cost is nothing. This law is as old as man. Each generation says it a new way, but the law is the same. And so with this Koyala. She was wronged, we will admit it. But she cannot be permitted to make the whole white race pay for those wrongs and halt progress in Borneo for a generation. She will have justice; his excellency is a just man. But first there must be peace in Bulungan. There must be no more plottings, no more piracies, no more head-hunting. The spear-heads must be separated from their shafts, the krisses must be buried, the _sumpitans_ must be broken in two. If Koyala will yield, this can be done. If you can persuade her to trust us, Pieter, half your work is done. Bulungan will become one of our fairest residencies, its trade will grow, the piracies will be swept from the seas, and the days of head-hunting will become a tradition." Peter Gross bowed his head. "God help me, I will," he vowed. "But see that she does not seduce you, Vrind Pieter," the old man entreated earnestly. "You are both young, she is fair, and she is a siren, a vampire. Hold fast to your God, to your faith, to the oath you take as a servant of the state, and do not let her beauty blind you--no, nor your own warm heart either, Pieter." Sachsen rose. There were tears in his eyes as he looked fondly down at the young man that owed so much to him. "Pieter," he said, "old Sachsen will pray for you. I must leave you now, Pieter; the governor desires to talk to you." CHAPTER VI THE PIRATE LEAGUE As Sachsen left the room the governor snapped shut the silver cap on the porcelain bowl of his pipe and regretfully laid the pipe aside. "_Nu_, Mynheer Gross, what troops will you need?" he asked in a business-like manner. "I have one thousand men here in Java that you may have if you need them. For the sea there is the gun-boat, _Prins Lodewyk_, and the cutter, _Katrina_, both of which I place at your disposal." "I do not need a thousand men, your excellency," Peter Gross replied quietly. "Ha! I thought not!" the governor exclaimed with satisfaction. "An army is useless in the jungle. Let them keep their crack troops in the Netherlands and give me a few hundred irregulars who know the cane and can bivouac in the trees if they have to. Your Amsterdammer looks well enough on parade, but his skin is too thin for our mosquitoes. But that is beside the question. Would five hundred men be enough, Mynheer Gross? We have a garrison of fifty at Bulungan." Peter Gross frowned reflectively at the table-top. "I would not need five hundred men, your excellency," he announced. The governor's smile broadened. "You know more about jungle warfare than I gave you credit for, Mynheer Gross," he complimented. "But I should have known that the rescuer of Lieutenant de Koren was no novice. Only this morning I remarked to General Vanden Bosch that a capable commander and three hundred experienced bush-fighters are enough to drive the last pirate out of Bulungan and teach our Dyaks to cultivate their long-neglected plantations. What say you to three hundred of our best colonials, _mynheer_?" "I will not need three hundred men, your excellency," Peter Gross declared. Van Schouten leaned back in surprise. "Well, Mynheer Gross, how large a force will you need?" Peter Gross's long, ungainly form settled lower in his chair. His legs crossed and his chin sagged into the palm of his right hand. The fingers pulled gently at his cheeks. After a moment's contemplation he looked up to meet the governor's inquiring glance and remarked: "Your excellency, I shall need about twenty-five men." Van Schouten stared at him in astonishment. "Twenty-five men, Mynheer Gross!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean?" "Twenty-five men, men like I have in mind, will be all I will need, your excellency," Peter Gross assured gravely. Van Schouten edged his chair nearer. "Mynheer Gross, do you understand me correctly?" he asked doubtfully. "I would make you resident of Bulungan. I would give you supreme authority in the province. The commandant, Captain Van Slyck, would be subject to your orders. You will be answerable only to me." "Under no other conditions would I accept your excellency's appointment," Peter Gross declared. "But, Mynheer Gross, what can twenty-five do? Bulungan has more than one hundred thousand inhabitants, few of whom have ever paid a picul of rice or kilo of coffee as tax to the crown. On the coast there are the Chinese pirates, the Bugi outlaws from Macassar and their traitorous allies, the coast Dyaks of Bulungan, of Tidoeng, and Pasir, ay, as far north as Sarawak, for those British keep their house in no better order than we do ours. In the interior we have the hill Dyaks, the worst thieves and cut-throats of them all. But these things you know. I ask you again, what can twenty-five do against so many?" "With good fortune, bring peace to Bulungan," Peter Gross replied confidently. The governor leaned aggressively across the table and asked the one-word pointed question: "How?" Peter Gross uncrossed his legs and tugged gravely at his chin. "Your excellency," he said, "I have a plan, not fully developed as yet, but a plan. As your excellency well knows, there are two nations of Dyaks in the province. There are the hillmen--" "Damned thieving, murdering, head-hunting scoundrels!" the governor growled savagely. "So your excellency has been informed. But I believe that much of the evil that is said of them is untrue. They are savages, wilder savages than the coast Dyaks, and less acquainted with _blanken_ (white men). Many of them are head-hunters. But they have suffered cruelly from the coast Dyaks, with whom, as your excellency has said, they have an eternal feud." "They are pests," the governor snarled. "They keep the lowlands in a continual turmoil with their raids. We cannot grow a blade of rice on account of them." "That is where your excellency and I must disagree," Peter Gross asserted quietly. "Ha!" the governor exclaimed incredulously. "What do you say, Mynheer Gross?" "Your excellency, living in Batavia, you have seen only one side of this question, the side your underlings have shown you. With your excellency's permission I shall show you another side, the side a stranger, unprejudiced, with no axes to grind either way, saw in his eight years of sailoring about these islands. Have I your excellency's permission?" A frown gathered on the governor's face. His thin lips curled, and his bristly mane rose belligerently. "Proceed," he snapped. Peter Gross rested his elbows on the table and leaned toward the governor. "Your excellency," he began, "let it be understood that I bring no accusations to-night; that we are speaking as man to man. I go to Bulungan to inquire into the truth of the things I have heard. Whatever I learn shall be faithfully reported to your excellency." Van Schouten nodded curtly. "Your excellency has spoken of the unrest in Bulungan," Peter Gross continued. "Your excellency also spoke of piracies committed in these seas. It is my belief, your excellency, that the government has been mistaken in assuming that there is no connection between the two. I am satisfied that there is a far closer union and a better understanding between the Dyaks and the pirates than has ever been dreamed of here in Batavia." The governor smiled derisively. "You are mistaken, Mynheer Gross," he contradicted. "I almost believed so, too, at one time, and I had Captain Van Slyck, our commandant at Bulungan, investigate for me. I have his report here. I shall be glad to let you read it." He tapped a gong. In a moment Sachsen bustled in. "Sachsen," the governor said, "Kapitein Van Slyck's report on the pirates of the straits, if you please." Sachsen bowed and withdrew. "I shall be glad to read the captain's report," Peter Gross assured gravely. A grimly humorous twinkle lurked in his eyes. The governor was quick to note it. "But it will not convince you, eh, _mynheer_?" he challenged. He smiled. "You Yankees are an obstinate breed--almost as stubborn as we Dutch." "I am afraid that the captain's report will not cover things I know," Peter Gross replied. "Yet I have no doubt it will be helpful." The subtle irony his voice expressed caused the governor to look at him quizzically, but Van Schouten was restrained from further inquiry by the return of Sachsen with the report. The governor glanced at the superscription and handed the document to Peter Gross with the remark: "Read that at your leisure. I will have Sachsen make you a copy." Peter Gross pocketed the report with a murmured word of thanks. The governor frowned, trying to recollect where the thread of conversation had been broken, and then remarked: "As I say, Mynheer Gross, I am sure you will find yourself mistaken. The Dyaks are thieves and head-hunters, a treacherous breed. They do not know the meaning of loyalty--God help us if they did! No two villages have ever yet worked together for a common aim. As for the pirates, they are wolves that prey on everything that comes in their path. Some of the _orang kayas_ may be friendly with them, but as for there being any organization--bah! it is too ridiculous to even discuss it." Peter Gross's lips pressed a little tighter. "Your excellency," he replied with perfect equanimity, "you have your opinion and I have mine. My work in Bulungan, I hope, will show which of us is right. Yet I venture to say this. Before I have left Bulungan I shall be able to prove to your excellency that one man, not so very far from your excellency's _paleis_ at this moment, has united the majority of the sea Dyaks and the pirates into a formidable league of which he is the head. More than this, he has established a system of espionage which reaches into this very house." Van Schouten stared at Peter Gross in amazement and incredulity. "Mynheer Gross," he finally exclaimed, "this is nonsense!" Peter Gross's eyes flashed. "Your excellency," he retorted, "it is the truth." "What proofs have you?" the governor demanded. "None at present that could convince your excellency," Peter Gross admitted frankly. "All I have is a cumulative series of instances, unrelated in themselves, scraps of conversations picked up here and there, little things that have come under my observation in my sojourns in many ports of the archipelago. But in Bulungan I expect to get the proofs. When I have them, I shall give them to your excellency, that justice may be done. Until then I make no charges. All I say is--guard carefully what you would not have your enemies know." "This is extraordinary," the governor remarked, impressed by Peter Gross's intense earnestness. "Surely you do not expect me to believe all this on your unsupported word, _mynheer_?" "The best corroboration which I can offer is that certain matters which your excellency thought were known only to himself are now common gossip from Batavia to New Guinea," Peter Gross replied. The governor's head drooped. His face became drawn. Lines formed where none had been before. The jauntiness, the pompous self-assurance, and the truculence that so distinguished him among his fellows disappeared from his mien; it was as though years of anxiety and care had suddenly passed over him. "This discussion brings us nowhere, Mynheer Gross," he wearily remarked. "Let us decide how large a force you should have. What you have told me convinces me the more that you will need at least two hundred men. I hesitate to send you with less than a regiment." "Let me deal with this situation in my own way, your excellency," Peter Gross pleaded. "I believe that just dealing will win the confidence of the upland Dyaks. Once that is done, the rest is easy. Twenty-five men, backed by the garrison at Bulungan and the hill Dyaks, will be able to break up the pirate bands, if the navy does its share. After that the problem is one of administration, to convince the coast Dyaks that the state is fair, that the state is just, and that the state's first thought is the welfare of her people, be they brown, black, or white." "You think twenty-five men can do all that?" the governor asked doubtfully. "The men I shall choose can, your excellency. They will be men whom I can trust absolutely, who have no interests except the service of Peter Gross." "Where will you find them, _mynheer_?" "Here in Java, your excellency. Americans. Sailors who have left the sea. Men who came here to make their fortunes and failed and are too proud to go back home. Soldiers from the Philippines, adventurers, lads disappointed in love. I could name you a dozen such here in Batavia now." The governor looked at his new lieutenant long and thoughtfully. "Do as you deem best, _mynheer_. It may be God has sent you here to teach us why we have failed. Is there anything else you need, besides the usual stores?" "There is one more request I wish to make of your excellency," Peter Gross replied. "And that is--" "That your excellency cancel the reward offered for the arrest of Leveque's daughter." Van Schouten stroked his brow with a gesture of infinite weariness. "You make strange requests, _mynheer_," he observed. "Yet I am moved to trust you. What you ask shall be done." He rose to signify that the interview was at an end. "You may make your requisitions through Sachsen, _mynheer_. God speed you and give you wisdom beyond your years." CHAPTER VII MYNHEER MULLER WORRIES Seated in a low-framed rattan chair on the broad veranda of his cottage, Mynheer Hendrik Muller, _controlleur_, and acting resident of Bulungan, awaited in perspiring impatience the appearance of his military associate, Captain Gerrit Van Slyck. State regulations required daily conferences, that the civil arm of the government might lay its commands upon the military and the military make its requisitions upon the civil. An additional incentive to prompt attendance upon these was that _mynheer_ the resident rarely failed to produce a bottle of Hollands, which, compounded with certain odorous and acidulated products of the tropics, made a drink that cooled the fevered brow and mellowed the human heart, made a hundred and twenty in the shade seem like seventy, and chased away the home-sickness of folk pining for the damp and fog of their native Amsterdam. It was no urgent affair of state, however, that made Muller fume and fuss like a washerwoman on a rainy Monday at Van Slyck's dilatoriness. A bit of gossip, casually dropped by the master of a trading schooner who had called for clearance papers an hour before, was responsible for his agitation. "When does your new resident arrive?" the visiting skipper had asked. "The new resident?" Muller returned blankly. "What new resident?" The skipper perceived that he was the bearer of unpleasant tidings and diplomatically minimized the importance of his news. "Somebody down to Batavia told me you were going to have a new resident here," he replied lightly. "It's only talk, I s'pose. You hear so many yarns in port." "There is nothing official--yet," Muller declared. He had the air of one who could tell much if he chose. But when the sailor had gone back to his ship he hurriedly sent Cho Seng to the stockade with an urgent request to Van Slyck to come to his house at once. Van Slyck was putting the finishing touches to an exquisite toilet when he received the message. "What ails the doddering old fool now?" he growled irritably as he read Muller's appeal. "Another Malay run amuck, I suppose. Every time a few of these _bruinevels_ (brown-skins) get krissed he thinks the whole province is going to flame into revolt." Tossing the note into an urn, he leisurely resumed his dressing. It was not until he was carefully barbered, his hair shampooed and perfumed, his nails manicured, and his mustache waxed and twisted to the exact angle that a two-months old French magazine of fashion dictated as the mode, that the dapper captain left the stockade. He was quite certain that the last living representative of the ancient house of Van Slyck of Amsterdam would never be seen in public in dirty linen and unwashed, regardless how far _mynheer the controlleur_ might forget his self-respect and the dignity of his office. Van Slyck was leisurely strolling along the tree-lined lane that led from the iron-wood stockade to the cluster of houses colloquially designated "Amsterdam" when the impatient Muller perceived his approach. "Devil take the man, why doesn't he hurry?" the _controlleur_ swore. With a peremptory gesture he signaled Van Slyck to make haste. "By the beard of Nassau," the captain exclaimed. "Does that swine think he can make a Van Slyck skip like a butcher's boy? Things have come to a pretty pass in the colonies when a Celebes half-breed imagines he can make the best blood of Amsterdam fetch and carry for him." Deliberately turning his back on the _controlleur_, he affected to admire the surpassingly beautiful bay of Bulungan, heaven's own blue melting into green on the shingly shore, with a thousand sabres of iridescent foam stabbing the morning horizon. Muller was fuming when the commandant finally sauntered on the veranda, selected a fat, black cigar from the humidor, and gracefully lounged in an easy chair. "_Donder en bliksem! kapitein_, but you lie abed later every morning," he growled. Van Slyck's thin lips curled with aristocratic scorn. "We cannot all be such conscientious public servants as you, _mynheer_," he observed ironically. Muller was in that state of nervous agitation that a single jarring word would have roused an unrestricted torrent of abuse. Fortunately for Van Slyck, however, he was obtuse to irony. He took the remark literally and for the moment, like oil on troubled waters, it calmed the rising tide of his wrath at what he deemed the governor-general's black ingratitude. "Well, _kapitein, gij kebt gelijk_ (you are right, captain)" he assented heavily. The blubbery folds under his chin crimsoned with his cheeks in complacent self-esteem. "There are not many men who would have done so well as I have under the conditions I had to face--under the conditions I had to face--_kapitein_. _Ja!_ Not many men. I have worked and slaved to build up this residency. For two years now I have done a double duty--I have been both resident and _controlleur_. _Jawel!_" Recollection of the skipper's unpleasant news recurred to him. His face darkened like a tropic sky before a cloudburst. "And what is my reward, _kapitein_? What is my reward? To have some _Amsterdamsche papegaai_ (parrot) put over me." His fist came down wrathily on the arm of his chair. "Ten thousand devils! It is enough to make a man turn pirate." Van Slyck's cynical face lit with a sudden interest. "You have heard from Ah Sing?" he inquired. "Ah Sing? No. _Drommel noch toe!_" Muller swore. "Who mentioned Ah Sing? That thieving Deutscher who runs the schooner we had in port over-night told me this not an hour ago. The whole of Batavia knows it. They are talking it in every _rumah makan_. And we sit here and know nothing. That is the kind of friends we have in Batavia." Van Slyck, apprehensive that the impending change might affect him, speculated swiftly how much the _controlleur_ knew. "It is strange that Ah Sing hasn't let us know," he remarked. "Ah Sing?" Muller growled. "Ah Sing? That bloodsucker is all for himself. He would sell us out to Van Schouten in a minute if he thought he saw any profit in it. _Ja!_ I have even put money into his ventures, and this is how he treats me." "Damnably, I must say," Van Slyck agreed sympathetically. "That is, if he knows." "If he knows, _mynheer kapitein_? Of course he knows. Has he not _agenten_ in every corner of this archipelago? Has he not a spy in the _paleis_ itself?" "He should have sent us word," Van Slyck agreed. "Unless _mynheer_, the new resident, is one of us. Who did you say it is, _mynheer_?" "How the devil should I know?" Muller growled irritably. "All I know is what I told you--that the whole of Batavia says Bulungan is to have a new resident." Van Slyck's face fell. He had hoped that the _controlleur_ knew at least the identity of the new executive of the province. Having extracted all the information Muller had, he dropped the cloak of sympathy and remarked with cool insolence: "Since you don't know, I think you had better make it your business to find out, _mynheer_." Muller looked at him doubtfully. "You might make an effort also, _kapitein_," he suggested. "You have friends in Batavia. It is your concern as well as mine, a new resident would ruin our business." "I don't think he will," Van Slyck replied coolly. "If he isn't one of us he won't bother us long. Ah Sing won't let any prying reformer interfere with business while the profits are coming in as well as they are." A shadow of anxiety crossed Muller's face. He cast a troubled look at Van Slyck, who affected to admire the multi-tinted color display of jungle, sun, and sea. "What--what do you mean, _kapitein_?" he asked hesitantly. "People sometimes begin voyages they do not finish," Van Slyck observed. "A man might eat a pomegranate that didn't agree with him--pouf--the colic, and it is all over. There is nothing so uncertain as life, _mynheer_." The captain replaced his cigar between his teeth with a flourish. Muller's pudgy hands caught each other convulsively. The folds under his chin flutterred. He licked his lips before he spoke. "_Kapitein_--you mean he might come to an unhappy end on the way?" he faltered. "Why not?" Van Slyck concentrated his attention on his cigar. "_Neen, neen_, let us have no bloodshed," Muller vetoed anxiously. "We have had enough--" He looked around nervously as though he feared someone might be overhearing him. "Let him alone. We shall find some way to get rid of him. But let there be no killing." Van Slyck turned his attention from the landscape to the _controlleur_. There was a look in the captain's face that made Muller wince and shift his eyes, a look of cyincal contempt, calm, frank, and unconcealed. It was the mask lifting, for Van Slyck despised his associate. Bold and unscrupulous, sticking at nothing that might achieve his end, he had no patience with the timid, faltering, often conscience-stricken _controlleur_. "Well, _mynheer_," Van Slyck observed at length, "you are getting remarkably thin-skinned all of a sudden." He laughed sardonically. Muller winced and replied hastily: "I have been thinking, _kapitein_, that the proa crews have been doing too much killing lately. I am going to tell Ah Sing that it must be stopped. There are other ways--we can unload the ships and land their crews on some island--" "To starve, or to be left to the tender mercies of the Bajaus and the Bugis," Van Slyck sneered. "That would be more tender-hearted. You would at least transfer the responsibility." Muller's agitation became more pronounced. "But we must not let it go on, _kapitein_," he urged. "It hurts the business. Pretty soon we will have an investigation, one of these gun-boats will pick up one of our proas, somebody will tell, and what will happen to us then?" "We'll be hung," Van Slyck declared succinctly. Muller's fingers leaped in an involuntary frantic gesture to his throat, as though he felt cords tightening around his windpipe. His face paled. "_Lieve hemel, kapitein_, don't speak of such things," he gasped. "Then don't talk drivel," Van Slyck snarled. "You can't make big profits without taking big chances. And you can't have piracy without a little blood-letting. We're in this now, and there's no going back. So stop your squealing." Settling back into his chair, he looked calmly seaward and exhaled huge clouds of tobacco smoke. The frown deepened on Muller's troubled brow as he stared vacantly across the crushed coral-shell highway. "You can think of no reason why his excellency should be offended with us, _kapitein_?" he ventured anxiously. The _controlleur's_ eagerness to include him in his misfortune, evidenced by the use of the plural pronoun, evoked a sardonic flicker in Van Slyck's cold, gray eyes. "No, _mynheer_, I cannot conceive why the governor should want to get rid of so valuable a public servant as you are," he assured ironically. "You have certainly done your best. There have been a few disturbances, of course, some head-hunting, and the taxes have not been paid, but outside of such minor matters everything has done well, very well indeed." "_Donder en bliksem_," Muller exclaimed, "how can I raise taxes when those Midianites, the hill Dyaks, will not let my coast Dyaks grow a spear of rice? Has there been a month without a raid? Answer me, _kapitein_. Have you spent a whole month in the stockade without being called to beat back some of these thieving plunderers and drive them into their hills?" The sardonic smile flashed across Van Slyck's face again. "Quite true, _mynheer_. But sometimes I don't know if I blame the poor devils. They tell me they're only trying to get even because your coast Dyaks and Ah Sing's crowd rob them so. Ah Sing must be making quite a profit out of the slave business. I'll bet he shipped two hundred to China last year." He glanced quizzically at his associate. "By the way, _mynheer_," he observed, "you ought to know something about that. I understand you get a per cent on it." "I?" Muller exclaimed, and looked affrightedly about him. "I, _kapitein_?" "Oh, yes you do," Van Slyck asserted airily. "You've got money invested with Ah Sing in two proas that are handling that end of the business. And it's the big end just now. The merchandise pickings are small, and that is all I share in." He looked at Muller meaningly. There was menace in his eyes and menace in his voice as he announced: "I'm only mentioning this, _mynheer_, so that if the new resident should happen to be one of us, with a claim to the booty, his share comes out of your pot, not mine. Remember that!" For once cupidity overcame Muller's fear of the sharp-witted cynical soldier. "_Wat de drommel_," he roared, "do you expect me to pay all, _kapitein_, all? Not in a thousand years! If there must be a division you shall give up your per cent as well as I, _stuiver_ for _stuiver_, _gulden_ for _gulden_!" A hectic spot glowed in each of Van Slyck's cheeks, and his eyes glittered. Muller's anger rose. "Ah Sing shall decide between us," he cried heatedly. "You cannot rob me in that way, _kapitein_." Van Slyck turned on his associate with an oath. "Ah Sing be damned. We'll divide as I say, or--" The pause was more significant than words. Muller's ruddy face paled. Van Slyck tapped a forefinger significantly on the arm of his chair. "Just remember, if the worst comes to the worst, there's this one difference between you and me, _mynheer_. I'm not afraid to die, and you--are!" He smiled. Muller's breath came thickly, and he stared fascinatedly into the evilly handsome face of the captain, whose eyes were fixed on his with a basilisk glare. Several seconds passed; then Van Slyck said: "See that you remember these things, _mynheer_, when our next accounting comes." The silence that followed was broken by the rhythmic pad-pad of wicker sandals on a bamboo floor. Cho Seng came on the veranda, bearing a tray laden with two glasses of finest crystal and a decanter of colorless liquid, both of which he placed on a small porch table. Drops of dew formed thickly on the chilled surface of the decanter and rolled off while the Chinaman mixed the juices of fruits and crushed leaves with the potent liquor. The unknown discoverer of the priceless recipe he used receives more blessings in the Indies daily than all the saints on the calendar. When Cho Seng had finished, he withdrew. Muller swallowed the contents of his glass in a single gulp. Van Slyck sipped leisurely. Gradually the tension lessened. After a while, between sips, the captain remarked: "I hear you have a chance to pick up some prize money." Muller looked up with interest. "So, _kapitein_!" he exclaimed with forced jocularity. "Have you found a place where guilders grow on trees?" "Almost as good as that," Van Slyck replied, playing his fish. Finesse and indirection were not Muller's forte. "Well, tell us about it, _kapitein_," he demanded bluntly. Van Slyck's eyes twinkled. "Catch Koyala," he replied. The captain's meaning sank into Muller's mind slowly. But as comprehension began to dawn upon him, his face darkened. The veins showed purple under the ruddy skin. "You are too clever this morning, _kapitein_," he snarled. "Let me remind you that this is your duty. The _controlleur_ sits as judge, he does not hunt the accused." Van Slyck laughed. "And let me remind you, _mynheer_, that I haven't received the governor's orders as yet, although they reached you more than a week ago." Ironically he added: "You must not let your friendship with Koyala blind you to your public duties, _mynheer_." Muller's face became darker still. He had not told any one, and the fact that the orders seemed to be public property both alarmed and angered him. "How did you hear of it?" he demanded. "Not from you, _mynheer_," Van Slyck mocked. "I really do not remember who told me." (As a matter of fact it was Wang Fu, the Chinese merchant.) Muller reflected that officers from the gun-boat which carried Van Schouten's mandate might have told more than they should have at the stockade. But Koyala had received his warning a full week before, so she must be safely hidden in the jungle by now, he reasoned. Pulling himself together, he replied urbanely: "Well, _kapitein_, it is true that I have rather neglected that matter. I intended to speak to you to-day. His excellency orders Koyala Bintang Burung's arrest." "The argus pheasant," Van Slyck observed, "is rarely shot. It must be trapped." "_Nu, kapitein_, that is a chance for you to distinguish yourself," Muller replied heartily, confident that Van Slyck could never land Koyala. Van Slyck flecked the ash from his cigar and looked at the glowing coal thoughtfully. "It seems to me that you might be of material assistance, _mynheer_," he observed. "In what way?" "I have noticed that the witch-woman is not--er--" He glanced at Muller quizzically, wondering how far he might venture to go--"not altogether indifferent to you." Muller drew a deep breath. His ruddy face became a grayish purple. His clenched hands gripped each other until the bones crunched and the veins stood in ridges. Drops of perspiration gathered on his forehead, he wiped them away mechanically. "_Kapitein!_" he gasped. Van Slyck looked at him increduously, for he had not dreamed Muller's feelings ran so deeply. "You think--she--sometimes thinks of me?" Van Slyck's nimble wits were calculating the value to him of this new weakness of the _controlleur_. He foresaw infinite possibilities, Muller in love would be clay in his hands. "I am positive, _mynheer_," he assured with the utmost gravity. "_Kapitein_, do not make a mistake," Muller entreated. His voice trembled and broke. "Are you absolutely sure?" Van Slyck restrained a guffaw with difficulty. It was so ridiculous--this mountain of flesh, this sweaty, panting porpoise in his unwashed linen in love with the slender, graceful Koyala. He choked and coughed discreetly. "I am certain, _mynheer_," he assured. "Tell me, _kapitein_, what makes you think so?" Muller begged. Van Slyck forced himself to calmness and a judicial attitude. "You know I have seen something of women, _mynheer_," he replied gravely. "Both women here and in the best houses in Amsterdam, Paris, and London. Believe me, they are all the same--a fine figure of a man attracts them." He ran his eye over Muller's form in assumed admiration. "You have a figure any woman might admire, _mynheer_. I have seen Koyala's eyes rest on you, and I know what she was thinking. You have but to speak and she is yours." "Say you so, _kapitein_!" Muller cried ecstatically. "Absolutely," Van Slyck assured. His eyes narrowed. The devilish humor incarnate in him could not resist the temptation to harrow this tortured soul. Watching Muller closely, he inquired: "Then I can expect you to spread the net, _mynheer_?" The light died in Muller's eyes. A slow, volcanic fury succeeded it. He breathed deeply and exhaled the breath in an explosive gasp. His hands clenched and the veins in his forehead became almost black. Van Slyck and he leaped to their feet simultaneously. "Kapitein Van Slyck," he cried hoarsely, "you are a scoundrel! You would sell your own mother. Get out of my sight, or God help you, I will break you in two." The door of the _controlleur's_ dwelling opened. Muller leaped back, and Van Slyck's hand leaped to his holster. "I am here, Kapitein Van Slyck," a clear, silvery voice announced coolly. Koyala stood in the doorway. CHAPTER VIII KOYALA'S WARNING For a moment no one spoke. Koyala, poised lightly on her feet, her slender, shapely young figure held rigidly and her chin uptilted, gazed steadily at Van Slyck. Her black eyes blazed a scornful defiance. Before her contempt even the proud Amsterdammer's arrogance succumbed. He reddened shamefacedly under his tan. "I am here, Kapitein Van Slyck," Koyala repeated clearly. She stepped toward him and reached out a slender, shapely arm, bare to the shoulder. "Here is my arm, where are your manacles, _kapitein_?" "Koyala!" Muller gasped huskily. His big body was trembling with such violence that the veranda shook. "This is my affair, _mynheer_," Koyala declared coldly, without removing her eyes from Van Slyck. She placed herself directly in front of the captain and crossed her wrists. "If you have no irons, use a cord, _kapitein_," she taunted. "But bind fast. The Argus Pheasant is not easily held captive." Van Slyck thrust her roughly aside. "Let's have done with this foolishness," he exclaimed bruskly. "What folly, _mynheer kapitein_?" Koyala demanded frigidly. "You had no business eavesdropping. If you heard something unpleasant you have only yourself to blame." Koyala's eyes sparkled with anger. "Eavesdropping, _kapitein_? I came here with a message of great importance to _mynheer_ the _controlleur_. Even the birds cock their ears to listen when they hear the hunter approach, _kapitein_." Turning her back with scornful indifference on Van Slyck, she crossed over to Muller and placed both her hands on his shoulder. Another fit of trembling seized the acting resident and his eyes swam. "You will forgive me, will you not, _mynheer_, for taking such liberties in your house?" "Of--of course," Muller stammered. "I heard a little of what was said," Koyala said; "enough to show me that I have a good friend here, a friend on whom I can always rely." Van Slyck caught the emphasis on the word "friend" and smiled sardonically. "Well, _Sister_ Koyala," he remarked mockingly, "if you and _Brother_ Muller will be seated we will hear your important message." Muller plumped heavily into a chair. Things had been going too rapidly for him, his heavy wits were badly addled, and he needed time to compose himself and get a fresh grip on the situation. There was only one other chair on the veranda. Perceiving this, Van Slyck sprang forward and placed it for Koyala, smiling satirically as he did so. Koyala frowned with annoyance, hesitated a moment, then accepted it. Van Slyck swung a leg over the veranda rail. "Your message, my dear Koyala," he prompted. He used the term of endearment lingeringly, with a quick side glance at Muller, but the _controlleur_ was oblivious to both. "The message is for Mynheer Muller," Koyala announced icily. "Ah? So?" Van Slyck swung the leg free and rose. "Then I am not needed. I bid the dear bother and sister adieux." He made an elaborate French bow and started to leave. The embarrassed Muller made a hasty protest. "Ho, _kapitein_!" he cried, "do not leave us. _Donder en bliksem!_ the message may be for us both. Who is it from, Koyala?" Van Slyck was divided between two desires. He saw that Muller was in a panic at the thought of being left alone with Koyala, and for that reason was keenly tempted to get out of sight as quickly as possible. On the other hand he was curious to hear her communication, aware that only a matter of unusual import could have called her from the bush. Undecided, he lingered on the steps. "It was from Ah Sing," Koyala announced. Van Slyck's indecision vanished. He stepped briskly back on the porch. "From Ah Sing?" he exclaimed. "Mynheer Muller and I were just discussing his affairs. Does it concern the new resident we are to have?" "It does," Koyala acknowledged. "Who is it?" Muller and the captain cried in the same breath. Koyala glanced vindictively at Van Slyck. "You are sure that you will not sell me to him, _mynheer kapitein_?" Van Slyck scowled. "Tell us about the resident," he directed curtly. Koyala's eyes sparkled maliciously. "The new resident, _mynheer kapitein_, seems to have a higher opinion of me than you have. You see, he has already persuaded the governor to withdraw the offer he made for my person." Van Slyck bit his lip, but ignored the thrust. "Then he's one of us?" he demanded bruskly. "On the contrary, he is a most dangerous enemy," Koyala contradicted. "_Lieve hemel_, don't keep us waiting," Muller cried impatiently. "Who is it, Koyala?" "A sailor, _mynheer_," Koyala announced. "A sailor?" Van Slyck exclaimed incredulously. "Who?" "Mynheer Peter Gross, of Batavia." Van Slyck and Muller stared at each other blankly, each vainly trying to recall ever having heard the name before. "Pieter Gross, Pieter Gross, he must be a newcomer," Van Slyck remarked. "I have not heard of him before, have you, _mynheer_?" "There is no one by that name in the colonial service," Muller declared, shaking his head. "You say he is of Batavia, Koyala?" "Of Batavia, _mynheer_, but by birth and upbringing, and everything else, a Yankee." "A Yankee?" her hearers chorused incredulously. "Yes, a Yankee. Mate on a trading vessel, or so he was a year ago. He has been in the Indies the past seven years." Van Slyck broke into a roar of laughter. "Now, by the beard of Nassau, what joke is Chanticleer playing us now?" he cried. "He must be anxious to get that Yankee out of the way." Neither Koyala nor Muller joined in his mirth. Muller frowned thoughtfully. There was the look in his eyes of one who is striving to recollect some almost forgotten name or incident. "Pieter Gross, Pieter Gross," he repeated thoughtfully. "Where have I heard that name before?" "Do you remember what happened to Gogolu of Lombock the time he captured Lieutenant de Koren and his commando?" Koyala asked. "How an American sailor and ten of his crew surprised Gogolu's band, killed a great many of them, and took their prisoners away from them? That was Pieter Gross." "_Donder en bliksem._ I knew I had reason to remember that name," Muller cried in alarm. "We have no Mynheer de Jonge to deal with this time, _kapitein_. This Yankee is a fighter." "Good!" Van Slyck exclaimed with satisfaction. "We will give him his bellyful. There will be plenty for him to do in the bush, eh, _mynheer_? And if he gets too troublesome there are always ways of getting rid of him." He raised his eyebrows significantly. "This Yankee is no fool," Muller rejoined anxiously. "I heard about that Lombock affair--it was a master coup. We have a bad man to deal with, _kapitein_." Van Slyck smiled cynically. "Humph, _mynheer_, you make me tired. From the way you talk one would think these Yankees can fight as well as they can cheat the brown-skins. We will fill him up with Hollands, we will swell his foolish head with praise till it is ready to burst, and then we will engineer an uprising in the hill district. Koyala can manage that for us. When Mynheer, the Yankee, hears of it he will be that thirsty for glory there will be no holding him. We will start him off with our blessings, and then we will continue our business in peace. What do you think of the plan, my dear Koyala?" "Evidently you don't know Mynheer Gross," Koyala retorted coldly. "Do you?" Van Slyck asked, quick as a flash. "I have seen him," Koyala acknowledged. "Once. It was at the mouth of the Abbas River." She described the incident. "He is no fool," she concluded. "He is a strong man, and an able man, one you will have to look out for." "And a devilish handsome young man, too, I'll wager," Van Slyck observed maliciously with a sidelong glance at Muller. The _controlleur's_ ruddy face darkened with a quick spasm of jealousy, at which the captain chuckled. "Yes, a remarkably handsome man," Koyala replied coolly. "We need handsome men in Bulungan, don't we, captain? Handsome white men?" Van Slyck looked at her quickly. He felt a certain significance in her question that eluded him. It was not the first time she had indulged in such remarks, quite trivial on their face, but invested with a mysterious something the way she said them. He knew her tragic history and was sharp enough to guess that her unholy alliance with Ah Sing grew out of a savage desire to revenge herself on a government which had permitted her to be brought up a white woman and a victim of appetites and desires she could never satisfy. What he did not know, did not even dream, was the depth of her hate against the whole white race and her fixed purpose to sweep the last white man out of Bulungan. "We do have a dearth of society here in Bulungan," he conceded. "Do you find it so, too?" The question was a direct stab, for not a white woman in the residency would open her doors to Koyala. The Dyak blood leaped to her face; for a moment it seemed that she would spring at him, then she controlled herself with a powerful effort and replied in a voice studiedly reserved: "I do, _mynheer kapitein_, but one must expect to have a limited circle when there are so few that can be trusted." At this juncture Muller's jealous fury overcame all bounds. Jealousy accomplished what all Van Slyck's scorn and threats could not do, it made him eager to put the newcomer out of the way. "What are we going to do?" he thundered. "Sit here like turtles on a mud-bank while this Yankee lords it over us and ruins our business? _Donder en bliksem_, I won't, whatever the rest of you may do. _Kapitein_, get your wits to work; what is the best way to get rid of this Yankee?" Van Slyck looked at him in surprise. Then his quick wit instantly guessed the reason for the outburst. "Well, _mynheer_," he replied, shrugging his shoulders indifferently, "it seems to me that this is a matter you are more interested in than I. Mynheer Gross does not come to displace me." "You are ready enough to scheme murders if there is a _gulden_ in it for you, but you have no counsel for a friend, eh?" Muller snarled. "Let me remind you, _kapitein_, that you are involved just as heavily as I." Van Slyck laughed in cynical good humor. "Let it never be said that a Van Slyck is so base as that, _mynheer_. Supposing we put our heads together. In the first place, let us give Koyala a chance to tell what she knows. Where did you get the news, Koyala?" "That makes no difference, _mynheer kapitein_," Koyala rejoined coolly. "I have my own avenues of information." Van Slyck frowned with annoyance. "When does he come here?" he inquired. "We may expect him any time," Koyala stated. "He is to come when the rainy season closes, and that will be in a few days." "_Donder en bliksem_, does Ah Sing know this?" Muller asked anxiously. Van Slyck's lips curled in cynical amusement at the inanity of the question. "He knows," Koyala declared. "Of course he knows," Van Slyck added sarcastically. "The question is, what is he going to do?" "I do not know," Koyala replied. "He can tell you that himself when he comes here." "He's coming here?" Van Slyck asked quickly. "Yes." "When?" "I am not in Ah Sing's councils," Koyala declared coldly. "The deuce you're not," Van Slyck retorted irritably. "You seem to know a lot of things we hadn't heard of. What does Ah Sing expect us to do? Pander to this Yankee deck-scrubber until he comes?" "We will do what we think best," Muller observed grimly. Koyala looked at him steadily until his glance fell. "You will both leave him alone and attend to your own affairs," she announced. "The new resident will be taken care of by Ah Sing--and by me." CHAPTER IX THE LONG ARM OF AH SING Two weeks after receiving his appointment as resident of Bulungan, Peter Gross stood on a wharf along the Batavia water-front and looked wistfully out to sea. It was early evening and quite dark, for the moon had not risen and the eastern sky from the zenith down was obscured by fitful patches of cloud, gray-winged messengers of rain. In the west, Venus glowed with a warm, seductive light, like a lamp in a Spanish garden. A brisk and vigorous breeze roughed the waters of the bay that raced shoreward in long rollers to escape its impetuous wooing. Peter Gross breathed the salt air deeply and stared steadfastly into the west, for he was sick at heart. Not until now did he realize what giving up the sea meant to him. The sea!--it had been a second mother to him, receiving him into its open arms when he ran away from the drudgery of the farm to satisfy the wanderlust that ached and ached in his boyish heart. Ay, it had mothered him, cradling him at night on its fond bosom while it sang a wild and eerie refrain among sail and cordage, buffeting him in its ill-humor, feeding him, and even clothing him. His first yellow oilskin, he remembered poignantly, had been salvaged from a wreck. Now he was leaving that mother. He was leaving the life he had lived for ten years. He was denying the dreams and ambitions of his youth. He was casting aside the dream of some day standing on the deck of his own ship with a score of smart sailors to jump at his command. A feeling akin to the home-sickness he had suffered when, a lad of fifteen, he lived through his first storm at sea, in the hold of a cattle-ship, came over him now. Almost he regretted his decision. Since bidding good-bye to Captain Threthaway two weeks before, he had picked twenty-four of the twenty-five men he intended to take with him for the pacification of Bulungan. The twenty-fifth he expected to sign that night at the home of his quondam skipper, Captain Roderick Rouse, better known as Roaring Rory. Rouse had been a trader in the south seas for many years and was now skipper of a smart little cottage in Ryswyk, the European residence section of Batavia. Peter Gross's presence at the water-front was explained by the fact that he had an hour to spare and naturally drifted to Tanjong Priok, the shipping center. The selection of the company had not been an easy task. Peter Gross had not expected that it would be. He found the type of men he wanted even scarcer than he anticipated. For the past two weeks beachcombers and loafers along the wharves, and tourists, traders, and gentlemen adventurers at the hotels had looked curiously at the big, well-dressed sailor who always seemed to have plenty of time and money to spend, and was always ready to gossip. Some of them tried to draw him out. To these he talked vaguely about seeing a little of Java before he went sailoring again. Opinion became general that for a sailor Peter Gross was remarkably close-mouthed. While he was to all appearances idly dawdling about, Peter Gross was in reality getting information concerning hardy young men of adventuresome spirit who might be persuaded to undertake an expedition that meant risk of life and who could be relied upon. Each man was carefully sounded before he was signed, and when signed, was told to keep his mouth shut. But the major problem, to find a capable leader of such a body of men, was still unsolved. Peter Gross realized that his duties as resident precluded him from taking personal charge. He also recognized his limitations. He was a sailor; a soldier was needed to whip the company in shape, a bush-fighter who knew how to dispose those under him when Dyak arrows and Chinese bullets began to fly overhead in the jungle. Two weeks of diligent search had failed to unearth any one with the necessary qualifications. Peter Gross was beginning to despair when he thought of his former skipper, Captain Rouse. Looking him up, he explained his predicament. "By the great Polar B'ar," Roaring Rory bellowed when Peter Gross had finished his recital. "How the dickens do you expect to clean out that hell-hole with twenty-five men? Man, there's a hundred thousand Dyaks alone, let alone those rat-faced Chinks that come snoopin' down like buzzards smellin' carrion, and the cut-throat Bugis, and the bad men the English chased out of Sarawak, and the Sulu pirates, and Lord knows what all. It's suicide." "I'm not going to Bulungan to make war," Peter Gross explained mildly. Roaring Rory spat a huge cud of tobacco into a cuspidor six feet away, the better to express his astonishment. "Then what in blazes are you goin' there for?" he roared. Peter Gross permitted himself one of his rare smiles. There was a positive twinkle in his eyes as he replied: "To convince them I am their best friend." Roaring Rory's eyes opened wide. "Convince 'em--what?" he gasped. "That I am their friend." The old sea captain stared at his ex-mate. "You're jokin'," he declared. "I was never more serious in my life," Peter Gross assured gravely. "Then you're a damn' fool," Roaring Rory asserted. "Yes, sir, a damn' fool. I didn't think it of ye, Peter." "It will take time, but I believe I see my way," Peter Gross replied quietly. He explained his plan briefly, and as he described how he expected to win the confidence and support of the hillmen, Roaring Rory became calmer. "Mebbe you can do it, Peter, mebbe you can do it," he conceded dubiously. "But that devil of an Ah Sing has a long arm, and by the bye, I'd keep indoors after sundown if I were you." "But this isn't getting me the man I need," Peter Gross pointed out. "Can you recommend any one, captain?" Roaring Rory squared back in his chair. "I hain't got the latitude and longitude of this-here proposition of yours figured just yet," he replied, producing a plug of tobacco and biting off a generous portion before passing it hospitably to his visitor. "Just what kind of a man do you want?" Peter Gross drew his chair a few inches nearer the captain's. "What I want," he said, "is a man that I can trust--no matter what happens. He doesn't need to know seamanship, but he's got to be absolutely square, a man the sight of gold or women won't turn. He has to be a soldier, an ex-army officer, and a bush-fighter, a man who has seen service in the jungle. A man from the Philippines would just fill the bill. He has to be the sort of a man his men will swear by. And he has to have a clean record." Roaring Rory grunted. "Ye don't want nothin', do ye? I'd recommend the Angel Gabriel." "There is such a man," Peter Gross insisted. "There always is. You've got to help me find him, captain." Rouse scratched his head profoundly and squinted hard. By and bye a big grin overspread his features. "I've got a nevvy," he announced, "who'd be crazy to be with ye. He's only seventeen, but big for his age. He's out on my plantation now. Hold on," he roared as Peter Gross attempted to interrupt. "I'm comin' to number twenty-five. This nevvy has a particular friend that's with him now out to the plantation. 'Cordin' to his log, this chap's the very man ye're lookin' for. Was a captain o' volunteer infantry and saw service in the Philippines. When his time run out he went to Shanghai for a rubber-goods house, and learned all there is to know about Chinks. He's the best rifle shot in Java. An' he can handle men. He ain't much on the brag order, but he sure is all there." "That is the sort of a man I have been looking for," Peter Gross observed with satisfaction. "He's worth lookin' up at any rate," Captain Rouse declared. "If you care to see him and my nevvy, you're in luck. They're comin' back to-night. They had a little business here, so they run down together and will bunk with me. I expect them here at nine o'clock, and if ye're on deck I'll interduce you. What d'ye say?" "I knew you wouldn't fail me, captain," Peter Gross replied warmly. "I'll be here." The shrill whistle of a coaster interrupted Peter Gross's melancholy reflections. He recollected with a start that it must be near the time he had promised to be at Captain Rouse's cottage. Leaving the wharves, he ambled along the main traveled highway toward the business district until overtaken by a belated victoria whose driver he hailed. The cool of evening was descending from the hills as the vehicle turned into the street on which Captain Rouse lived. It was a wide, tree-lined lane, with oil lamps every six or seven hundred feet whose yellow rays struggled ineffectually to banish the somber gloom shed by the huge masses of foliage that shut out the heavens. Feeling cramped from his long ride and a trifle chill, Peter Gross suddenly decided to walk the remainder of the distance, halted his driver, paid the fare, and dismissed him. Whistling cheerily, a rollicking chanty of the sea to which his feet kept time, he walked briskly along. Cutting a bar of song in the middle, he stopped suddenly to listen. Somewhere in the darkness behind him someone had stumbled into an acacia hedge and had uttered a stifled exclamation of pain. There was no other sound, except the soughing of the breeze through the tree-tops. "A drunken coolie," he observed to himself. He stepped briskly along and resumed his whistling. The song came to an abrupt close as his keen ears caught a faint shuffling not far behind, a shuffling like the scraping of a soft-soled shoe against the plank walk. He turned swiftly, ears pricked, and looked steadily in the direction that the sound came from, but the somber shadows defied his searching glance. "Only coolies," he murmured, but an uneasy feeling came upon him and he quickened his pace. His right hand involuntarily slipped to his coat-pocket for the pistol he customarily carried. It was not there. A moment's thought and he recollected he had left it in his room. As he reached the next street-lamp he hesitated. Ahead of him was a long area of unlighted thoroughfare. Evidently the lamp-lighter had neglected his duties. Or, Peter Gross reflected, some malicious hand might have extinguished the lights. It was on this very portion of the lane that Captain Rouse's cottage stood, only a few hundred yards farther. He listened sharply a moment. Back in the shadows off from the lane a piano tinkled, the langorous Dream Waltz from the Tales of Hoffman. A lighted victoria clattered toward him, then turned into a brick-paved driveway. Else not a sound. The very silence was ominous. Walking slowly, to accustom his eyes to the gloom, Peter Gross left the friendly circle of light. As the shadows began to envelop him he heard the sound of running feet on turf. Some one inside the hedge was trying to overhaul him. He broke into a dog-trot. A low whistle cut the silence. Leaping forward, he broke into a sprint. Rouse's cottage was only a hundred yards ahead--a dash and he would be there. A whistle from in front. A like sound from the other side of the lane. The stealthy tap-tapping of feet, sandaled feet, from every direction. For a moment Peter Gross experienced the sensation of a hunted creature driven to bay. It was only for a moment, however, and then he acquainted himself with his surroundings in a quick, comprehensive glance. On one side of him was the hedge, on the other a line of tall kenari-trees. Vaulting the hedge, he ran silently and swiftly in its shadow, hugging the ground like a fox in the brush. Suddenly and without warning he crashed full-tilt into a man coming from the opposite direction, caught him low, just beneath the ribs. The man crashed back into the hedge with an explosive gasp. Ahead were white pickets, the friendly white pickets that enclosed Captain Rouse's grounds. He dashed toward them, but he was too late. Out of a mass of shrubbery a short, squat figure leaped at him. There was the flash of a knife. Peter Gross had no chance to grapple with his assailant. He dropped like a log, an old sailor's trick, and the short, squat figure fell over him. He had an instant glimpse of a yellow face, fiendish in its malignancy, of a flying queue, of fingers that groped futilely, then he rose. At the same instant a cat-like something sprang on him from behind, twisted its legs around his body, and fastened its talons into his throat. The impact staggered him, but as he found his footing he tore the claw-like fingers loose and shook the creature off. Simultaneously two shadows in front of him materialized into Chinamen with gleaming knives. As they leaped at him a red-hot iron seared his right forearm and a bolt of lightning numbed his left shoulder. A sound like a hoarse, dry cackle came from Peter Gross's throat. His long arms shot out and each of his huge hands caught one of his assailants by the throat. Bringing their heads together with a sound like breaking egg-shells, he tossed them aside. Before he could turn to flee a dozen shadowy forms semi-circled about him. The starlight dimly revealed gaunt, yellow faces and glaring eyes, the eyes of a wolf-pack. The circle began to narrow. Knives glittered. But none of the crouching forms dared venture within reach of the gorilla arms. Then the lion arose in Peter Gross. Beside him was an ornamental iron flower-pot. Stooping quickly, he seized it and lifted it high above his head. They shrank from him, those crouching forms, with shrill pipings of alarm, but it was too late. He hurled it at the foremost. It caught two of them and bowled them over like ninepins. Then he leaped at the others. His mighty right caught one under the chin and laid him flat. His left dove into the pit of another's stomach. The unfortunate Chinaman collapsed like a sack of grain. They ringed him round. A sharp, burning sensation swept across his back--it was the slash of a knife. A blade sank into the fleshy part of his throat, and he tore it impatiently away. He struck out savagely into the densely packed mass of humanity and a primitive cave-man surge of joy thrilled him at the impact of his fists against human flesh and bone. But the fight was too unequal. Blood started from a dozen cuts; it seemed to him he was afire within and without. His blows began to lack power and a film came over his eyes, but he struck out the more savagely, furious at his own weakness. The darkness thickened. The figures before him, beside him, behind him, became more confused. Two and three heads bobbed where he thought there was only one. His blows went wild. The jackals were pulling the lion down. As he pulled himself together for a last desperate effort to plough through to the security of Rouse's home, the sharp crack of a revolver sounded in his ear. At the same instant the lawn leaped into a blinding light, a light in which the gory figures of his assailants stood out in dazed and uncertain relief. The acrid fumes of gunpowder filled his nostrils. Darting toward the hedges like rats scurrying to their holes, the Chinamen sought cover. Peter Gross hazily saw two men, white men, each of them carrying a flash-light and a pistol, vault the pickets. A third followed, swinging a lantern and bellowing for the "_wacht_" (police). It was Roaring Rory. "Are you hurt?" the foremost asked as he approached. "Not bad, I guess," Peter Gross replied thickly. He lifted his hand to his forehead in a dazed, uncertain way and looked stupidly at the blood that gushed over it. A cleft seemed to open at his feet. He felt himself sinking--down, down, down to the very foundations of the world. Dimly he heard the cry: "Quick, Paddy, lend a hand." Then came oblivion. CHAPTER X CAPTAIN CARVER SIGNS When Peter Gross recovered consciousness fifteen minutes later he found himself in familiar quarters. He was lying on a cot in Captain Rouse's den, commonly designated by that gentleman as "the cabin." Captain Rouse's face, solemn as an owl's, was leaning over him. As he blinked the captain's lips expanded into a grin. "Wot did I tell ye, 'e's all right!" the captain roared delightedly. "Demmit, ye can't kill a Sunda schooner bucko mate with a little bloodlettin'. Ah Sing pretty near got ye, eh, Peter?" The last was to Peter Gross, who was sitting up and taking inventory of his various bandages, also of his hosts. There were two strangers in the room. One was a short, stocky young man with a pugnacious Irish nose, freckly face, and hair red as a burnished copper boiler. His eyes were remarkably like the jovial navigator's, Peter Gross observed. The other was a dark, well-dressed man of about forty, with a military bearing and reserved air. He bore the stamp of gentility. "Captain Carver," Roaring Rory announced. "My old mate, Peter Gross, the best man as ever served under me." The elder man stepped forward and clasped Peter Gross's hand. The latter tried to rise, but Carver restrained him. "You had better rest a few moments, Mr. Gross," he said. There was a quiet air of authority in his voice that instantly attracted the resident, who gave him a keen glance. "My nevvy, Paddy, Peter, the doggonest young scamp an old sea-horse ever tried to raise," Rouse bellowed. "I wish I could have him for'ard with a crew like we used to have on the old _Gloucester Maid_." He guffawed boisterously while the younger of the two strangers, his face aglow with a magnetic smile, sprang forward and caught Peter Gross's hand in a quick, dynamic grip. "Them's the lads ye've got to thank for bein' here," Roaring Rory announced, with evident pride. "If they hadn't heard the fracas and butted in, the Chinks would have got ye sure." "I rather fancied it was you whom I have to thank for being here," Peter Gross acknowledged warmly. "You were certainly just in time." "Captain Rouse is too modest," Captain Carver said. "It was he who heard the disturbance and jumped to the conclusion you might be--in difficulty." The old navigator shook his head sadly. "I warned ye, Peter," he said; "I warned ye against that old devil, Ah Sing. Didn't I tell you to be careful at night? Ye ain't fit to be trusted alone, Peter." "I think you did," Peter Gross acknowledged with a twinkle. "But didn't you fix our appointment for to-night?" "Ye should have carried a gun," Roaring Rory reproved. "Leastwise a belayin'-pin. Ye like to use your fists too well, Peter. Fists are no good against knives. I'm a peace-lovin' man, Peter, 'twould be better for ye if ye patterned after me." Peter Gross smiled, for Roaring Rory's record for getting into scrapes was known the length and breadth of the South Pacific. Looking up, he surprised a merry gleam in Captain Carver's eyes and Paddy striving hard to remain sober. "I'll remember your advice, captain," Peter Gross assured. "Humph!" Roaring Rory grunted. "Well, Peter, is your head clear enough to talk business?" "I think so," Peter Gross replied slowly. "Have you explained the matter I came here to discuss?" "Summat, summat," Rouse grunted. "I leave the talking to you, Peter." "Captain Rouse told me you wanted some one to take charge of a company of men for a dangerous enterprise somewhere in the South Pacific," Carver replied. "He said it meant risking life. That might mean anything to piracy. I understand, however, that your enterprise has official sanction." "My appointment is from the governor-general of the Netherlands East Indies," Peter Gross stated. "Ah, yes." "I need a man to drill and lead twenty-five men, all of whom have had some military training. I want a man who knows the Malays and their ways and knows the bush." "I was in the Philippines for two years as a captain of volunteer infantry," Carver said. "I was in Shanghai for four years and had considerable dealings at that time with the Chinese. I know a little of their language." "Have you any one dependent on you?" "I am a bachelor," Captain Carver replied. "Does twenty-five hundred a year appeal to you?" "That depends entirely on what services I should be expected to render." Confident that he had landed his man, and convinced from Captain Rouse's recommendation and his own observations that Carver was the very person he had been seeking, Peter Gross threw reserve aside and frankly stated the object of his expedition and the difficulties before him. "You see," he concluded, "the game is dangerous, but the stakes are big. I have no doubt but what Governor Van Schouten will deal handsomely with every one who helps restore order in the residency." Captain Carver was frowning. "I don't like the idea of playing one native element against another," he declared. "It always breeds trouble. The only people who have ever been successful in pulling it off is the British in India, and they had to pay for it in blood during the Mutiny. The one way to pound the fear of God into the hearts of these benighted browns and blacks is to show them you're master. Once they get the idea the white man can't keep his grip without them, look out for treachery." "I've thought of that," Peter Gross replied sadly. "But to do as you suggest will take at least two regiments and will cost the lives of several thousand Dyaks. You will have to lay the country bare, and you will sow a seed of hate that is bound to bear fruit. But if I can persuade them to trust me, Bulungan will be pacified. Brooke did it in Sarawak, and I believe I can do it here." Carver stroked his chin in silence. "You know the country," he said. "If you have faith and feel you want me, I'll go with you." "I'll have a lawyer make the contracts at once," Peter Gross replied. "We can sign them to-morrow." "Can't you take me with you, too, Mr. Gross?" Paddy Rouse asked eagerly. Peter Gross looked at the lad. The boy's face was eloquent with entreaty. "How old are you?" he asked. "Seventeen," came the halting acknowledgment. "But I've done a man's work for a year. Haven't I, avunculus?" Captain Rouse nodded a reluctant assent. "I hate to miss ye, my boy," he said, "but maybe a year out there would get the deviltry out of ye and make a man of ye. If Peter wants ye, he may have ye." A flash of inspiration came to Peter Gross as he glanced at the boy's tousled shock of fiery-red hair. "I'll take you on a private's pay," he said. "A thousand a year. Is that satisfactory?" "I'm signed," Paddy whooped. "Hooray!" * * * * * When Peter Gross and his company left Tanjong Priok a fortnight later Captain Rouse bade them a wistful good-bye at the wharf. "Take care of the lad; he's all I got," he said huskily to the resident. "If it wasn't for the damned plantation I'd go with ye, too." CHAPTER XI MYNHEER MULLER'S DREAM The Dutch gun-boat _Prins Lodewyk_, a terror to evil-doers in the Java and Celebes seas, steamed smartly up Bulungan Bay and swung into anchorage a quarter of a mile below the assemblage of junks and Malay proas clustered at the mouth of Bulungan River. She carried a new flag below her ensign, the resident's flag. As she swung around, her guns barked a double salute, first to the flag and then to the resident. Peter Gross and his company were come to Bulungan. The pert brass cannon of the stockade answered gun for gun. It was the yapping of terrier against mastiff, for the artillery of the fortress was of small caliber and an ancient pattern. Its chief service was to intimidate the natives of the town who had once been bombarded during an unfortunate rebellion and had never quite forgotten the sensation of being under shell-fire. Peter Gross leaned over the rail of the vessel and looked fixedly shoreward. His strong, firm chin was grimly set. There were lines in his face that had not been there a few weeks before when he was tendered and accepted his appointment as resident. Responsibility was sitting heavily upon his shoulders, for he now realized the magnitude of the task he had so lightly assumed. Captain Carver joined him. "All's well, so far, Mr. Gross," he observed. Peter Gross let the remark stand without comment for a moment. "Ay, all's well so far," he assented heavily. There was another pause. "Are we going ashore this afternoon?" Carver inquired. "That is my intention." "Then you'll want the boys to get their traps on deck. At what hour will you want them?" "I think I shall go alone," Peter Gross replied quietly. Carver looked up quickly. "Not alone, Mr. Gross," he expostulated. Peter Gross looked sternly shoreward at the open water-front of Bulungan town, where dugouts, sampans, and crude bark canoes were frantically shooting about to every point of the compass in helter-skelter confusion. "I think it would be best," he said. Carver shook his head. "I don't think I'd do it, Mr. Gross," he advised gravely. "I don't think you ought to take the chance." "To convince an enemy you are not afraid is often half the fight," Peter Gross observed. "A good rule, but it doesn't apply to a pack of assassins," Carver replied. "And that's what we seem to be up against. You can't take too big precautions against whelps that stab in the dark." Peter Gross attempted no contradiction. The ever increasing concourse of scantily clad natives along the shore held his attention. Carver scanned his face anxiously. "They pretty nearly got you at Batavia, Mr. Gross," he reminded, anxiety overcoming his natural disinclination to give a superior unsolicited advice. "You may be right," Peter Gross conceded mildly. Carver pushed his advantage. "If Ah Sing's tong men will take a chance at murdering you in Batavia under the nose of the governor, they won't balk at putting you out of the way in Bulungan, a thousand miles from nowhere. There's a hundred ways they can get rid of a man and make it look like an accident." "We must expect to take some risks." Perceiving the uselessness of argument, Carver made a final plea. "At least let me go with you," he begged. Peter Gross sighed and straightened to his full six feet two. "Thank you, captain," he said, "but I must go alone. I want to teach Bulungan one thing to-day--that Peter Gross is not afraid." While Captain Carver was vainly trying to dissuade Peter Gross from going ashore, Kapitein Van Slyck hastened from his quarters at the fort to the _controlleur's_ house. Muller was an uncertain quantity in a crisis, the captain was aware; it was vital that they act in perfect accord. He found his associate pacing agitatedly in the shade of a screen of nipa palms between whose broad leaves he could watch the trim white hull and spotless decks of the gun-boat. Muller was smoking furiously. At the crunch of Van Slyck's foot on the coraled walk he turned quickly, with a nervous start, and his face blanched. "Oh, _kapitein_," he exclaimed with relief, "is it you?" "Who else would it be?" Van Slyck growled, perceiving at once that Muller had worked himself into a frenzy of apprehension. "I don't know. I thought, perhaps, Cho Seng--" "You look as though you'd seen a ghost. What's there about Cho Seng to be afraid of?" "--that Cho Seng had come to tell me Mynheer Gross was here," Muller faltered. Van Slyck looked at him keenly, through narrowed lids. "Hum!" he grunted with emphasis. "So it is Mynheer Gross already with you, eh, Muller?" There was a significant emphasis on the "_mynheer_." Muller flushed. "Don't get the notion I'm going to sweet-mouth to him simply because he is resident, _kapitein_," he retorted, recovering his dignity. "You know me well enough--my foot is in this as deeply as yours." "Yes, and deeper," Van Slyck replied significantly. The remark escaped Muller. He was thrusting aside the screen of nipa leaves to peer toward the vessel. "No," he exclaimed with a sigh of relief, "he has not left the ship yet. There are two civilians at the forward rail--come, _kapitein_, do you think one of them is he?" He opened the screen wider for Van Slyck. The captain stepped forward with an expression of bored indifference and peered through the aperture. "H-m!" he muttered. "I wouldn't be surprised if the big fellow is Gross. They say he has the inches." "I hope to heaven he stays aboard to-day," Muller prayed fervently. "He can come ashore whenever he wants to, for all I care," Van Slyck remarked. Muller straightened and let the leaves fall back. "_Lieve hemel, neen, kapitein_," he expostulated. "What would I do if he should question me. My reports are undone, there are a dozen cases to be tried, I have neglected to settle matters with some of the chiefs, and my accounts are in a muddle. I don't see how I am ever going to straighten things out--then there are those other things--what will he say?" He ran his hands through his hair in nervous anxiety. Van Slyck contemplated his agitation with a darkening frown. "Is the fool going to pieces?" was the captain's harrowing thought. He clapped a hand on Muller's shoulder with an assumption of bluff heartiness. "'Sufficient unto the day--' You know the proverb, _mynheer_," he said cheerfully. "There's nothing to worry about--we won't give him a chance at you for two weeks. Kapitein Enckel of the _Prins_ will probably bring him ashore to-day. We'll receive him here; I'll bring my lieutenants over, and Cho Seng can make us a big dinner. "To-night there will be schnapps and reminiscences, to-morrow morning a visit of inspection to the fort, to-morrow afternoon a _bitchara_ with the Rajah Wobanguli, and the day after a visit to Bulungan town. At night visits to Wang Fu's house and Marinus Blauwpot's, with cards and Hollands. I'll take care of him for you, and you can get your books in shape. Go to Barang, if you want to, the day we visit Rotterdam--leave word with Cho Seng you were called away to settle an important case. Leave everything to me, and when you get back we'll have _mynheer_ so drunk he won't know a tax statement from an Edammer cheese." Muller's face failed to brighten at the hopeful program mapped out by his associate. If anything, his agitation increased. "But he might ask questions to-day, _kapitein_--questions I cannot answer." Van Slyck's lips curled. His thought was: "Good God, what am I going to do with this lump of jelly-fish?" But he replied encouragingly: "No danger of that at all, _mynheer_. There are certain formalities that must be gone through first before a new resident takes hold. It would not be good form to kick his predecessor out of office without giving the latter a chance to close his books--even a pig of a Yankee knows that. Accept his credentials if he offers them, but tell him business must wait till the morning. Above all, keep your head, say nothing, and be as damnably civil as though he were old Van Schouten himself. If we can swell his head none of us will have to worry." "But my accounts, _kapitein_," Muller faltered. "To the devil with your accounts," Van Slyck exclaimed, losing patience. "Go to Barang, fix them up as best you can." "I can never get them to balance," Muller cried. "Our dealings--the rattan we shipped--you know." He looked fearfully around. "There never was a _controlleur_ yet that didn't line his own pockets," Van Slyck sneered. "But his books never showed it. You are a book-keeper, _mynheer_, and you know how to juggle figures. Forget these transactions; if you can't, charge the moneys you got to some account. There are no vouchers or receipts in Bulungan. A handy man with figures, like yourself, ought to be able to make a set of accounts that that ferret Sachsen himself could not find a flaw in." "But that is not the worst," Muller cried despairingly. "There are the taxes, the taxes I should have sent to Batavia, the rice that we sold instead to Ah Sing." "Good God! Have you grown a conscience?" Van Slyck snarled. "If you have, drown yourself in the bay. Lie, you fool, lie! Tell him the weevils ruined the crop, tell him the floods drowned it, tell him a tornado swept the fields bare, lay it to the hill Dyaks--anything, anything! But keep your nerve, or you'll hang sure." Muller retreated before the captain's vehemence. "But the _bruinevels_, _kapitein_?" he faltered. "They may tell him something different." "Wobanguli won't; he's too wise to say anything," Van Slyck asserted firmly. "None of the others will dare to, either--all we've got to do is to whisper Ah Sing's name to them. But there's little danger of any of them except the Rajah seeing him until after the _Prins_ is gone. Once she's out of the harbor I don't care what they say--no word of it will ever get back to Batavia." His devilishly handsome smile gleamed sardonically, and he twisted his nicely waxed mustache. Muller's hands shook. "_Kapitein_," he replied in an odd, strained voice, "I am afraid of this Peter Gross. I had a dream last night, a horrible dream--I am sure it was him I saw. I was in old de Jonge's room in the residency building--you know the room--and the stranger of my dream sat in old de Jonge's chair. "He asked me questions, questions of how I came here, and what I have done here, and I talked and talked till my mouth was dry as the marsh grass before the rains begin to fall. All the while he listened, and his eyes seemed to bore through me, as though they said: 'Judas, I know what is going on in your heart.' "At last, when I could say no more, he asked me: '_Mynheer_, how did Mynheer de Jonge die?' Then I fell on the ground before him and told him all--all. At the last, soldiers came to take me away to hang me, but under the very shadow of the gallows a bird swooped down out of the air and carried me away, away into the jungle. Then I awoke." Van Slyck broke into scornful laughter. "_Mynheer_, you had enough to worry about before you started dreaming," he said bluntly. "If you're going to fill your head with such foolishness I'll leave you to your own devices." "But, _kapitein_, it might be a warning," Muller cried desperately. "Heaven doesn't send ravens to cheat such rogues as you and I from the gallows, _mynheer_," Van Slyck mocked. "We might as well get ready to meet our new resident. I see a boat putting off from the ship." CHAPTER XII PETER GROSS'S RECEPTION When Peter Gross stepped ashore at the foot of the slope on which the fort and government buildings stood, three thousand pairs of eyes, whose owners were securely hidden in the copses and undergrowth for a quarter of a mile in both directions along the shore-line, watched his every movement. With the lightning celerity with which big news travels word had been spread through Bulungan town that the new resident was coming ashore, and every inhabitant possessed of sound legs to bear him had run, crawled, or scrambled to a favorable patch of undergrowth where he could get a first glimpse of the _orang blanda_ chief without being observed. Perfectly aware of this scrutiny, but calmly oblivious to it, Peter Gross stepped out of the boat and directed the sailors who rowed it to return to their ship. As their oars bit the water he faced the path that wound up the hillside and walked along it at a dignified and easy pace. His sharp ears caught the incessant rustle of leaves, a rustle not made by the breeze, and the soft grinding of bits of coral under the pressure of naked feet. Once he surprised a dusky face in the bush, but his glance roved to the next object in his line of vision in placid unconcern. As he mounted the rise he made for the _controlleur's_ home, strolling along as calmly as though he were on a Batavia lane. "_Duivel noch toe!_" Muller exclaimed as the boat returned to the ship. "He is coming here alone." His voice had an incredulous ring as though he half doubted the evidence of his own senses. Van Slyck's eyes danced with satisfaction, and his saturnine smile was almost Mephistophelian. "By Nassau, I was right, after all, _mynheer_," he exclaimed. "He's an ass of a Yankee that Van Schouten is having some sport with in sending him here." "There may be something behind this, _kapitein_," Muller cautioned apprehensively, but Van Slyck cut him short. "Behind this, _mynheer_? The fool does not even know how to maintain the dignity due his office. Would he land this way, like a pedler with his pack, if he did? Oh, we are going to have some rare sport--" Van Slyck's merriment broke loose in a guffaw. "You-you will not do anything violent, _kapitein_?" Muller asked apprehensively. "Violent?" Van Slyck exclaimed. "I wouldn't hurt him for a thousand guilders, _mynheer_. He's going to be more fun than even you." The frank sneer that accompanied the remark made the captain's meaning sufficiently clear to penetrate even so sluggish a mind as the _controlleur's_. He reddened, and an angry retort struggled to his lips, but he checked it before it framed itself into coherent language. He was too dependent on Van Slyck, he realized, to risk offending the latter now, but for the first time in their acquaintanceship his negative dislike of his more brilliant associate deepened to a positive aversion. "What are we going to do, _kapitein_?" he asked quietly. "Welcome him, _mynheer_!" Again the sardonic smile. "Treat him to some of your fine cigars and a bottle of your best Hollands. Draw him out, make him empty his belly to us. When we have sucked him dry and drenched him with liquor we will pack him back to the _Prins_ to tell Kapitein Enckel what fine fellows we are. To-morrow we'll receive him with all ceremony--I'll instruct him this afternoon how a resident is installed in his new post and how he must conduct himself. "Enckel will leave here without a suspicion, Mynheer Gross will be ready to trust even his purse to us if we say the word, and we will have everything our own way as before. But s-s-st! Here he comes!" He lifted a restraining hand. "Lord, what a shoulder of beef! Silence, now, and best your manners, _mynheer_. Leave the talking to me." Peter Gross walked along the kenari-tree shaded lane between the evergreen hedges clipped with characteristic Dutch primness to a perfect plane. Behind him formed a growing column of natives whose curiosity had gotten the better of their diffidence. The resident's keen eyes instantly ferreted out Van Slyck and Muller in the shadows of the veranda, but he gave no sign of recognition. Mounting the steps of the porch, he stood for a moment in dignified expectancy, his calm, gray eyes taking the measure of each of its occupants. An apprehensive shiver ran down Muller's spine as he met Peter Gross's glance--those gray eyes were so like the silent, inscrutable eyes of the stranger in de Jonge's chair whom he saw in his dream. It was Van Slyck who spoke first. "You were looking for some one, _mynheer_?" he asked. "For Mynheer Muller, the _controlleur_ and acting resident. I think I have found him." The mildness with which these words were spoken restored the captain's aplomb, momentarily shaken by Peter Gross's calm, disconcerting stare. "You have a message for us?" "I have," Peter Gross replied. "Ah, from Kapitein Enckel, I suppose," Van Slyck remarked urbanely. "Your name is--" He paused significantly. "It is from his excellency, the Jonkheer Van Schouten," Peter Gross corrected quietly. Peter Gross's tolerance of this interrogation convinced Van Slyck that he had to do with an inferior intelligence suddenly elevated to an important position and very much at sea in it. "And your message, I understand, is for Mynheer Muller, the _controlleur_?" the captain inquired loftily with a pert uptilt of his chin. "For Mynheer Muller, the _controlleur_," Peter Gross acknowledged gravely. "Ah, yes. This is Mynheer Muller." He indicated the _controlleur_ with a flourish. "But you have not yet told us your name." "I am Peter Gross." "Ah, yes, Pieter Gross. Pieter Gross." The captain repeated the name with evident relish. "Pieter Gross. Mynheer Pieter Gross." There was a subtle emphasis on the _mynheer_--a half-doubtful use of the word, as though he questioned Peter Gross's right to a gentleman's designation. It was designed to test the sailor. Peter Gross's face did not change a muscle. Turning to the _controlleur_, he asked in a voice of unruffled calm: "May I speak to you privately, _mynheer_?" Muller glanced apprehensively at Van Slyck. The fears inspired by his dreams made him more susceptible to ulterior impressions than the captain, whose naturally more acute sensibilities were blunted by the preconceived conviction that he had an ignorant Yankee to deal with. Van Slyck smiled cynically and observed: "Am I in the way, Mynheer Gross?" Again the ironic accent to the _mynheer_. He rose to go, but Muller stayed him with the cry: "_Neen, neen, kapitein._ Whatever comes from the governor concerns you, too. Stay with us, and we will see what his excellency has to say." None knew the importance of first impressions better than the captain. If the new resident could be thwarted in his purpose of seeing Muller alone that achievement would exercise its influence on all their future relations, Van Slyck perceived. Assuming an expression of indifference, he sank indolently into an easy chair. When he looked up he found the gray eyes of Peter Gross fixed full upon him. "Perhaps I should introduce myself further, captain," Peter Gross said. "I am Mynheer Gross, of Batavia, your new resident by virtue of his excellency the Jonkheer Van Schouten's appointment." Van Slyck's faint, cynical smile deepened a trifle. "Ah, _mynheer_ has been appointed resident," he remarked non-committally. Peter Gross's face hardened sternly. "It is not the custom in Batavia, captain, for officers of the garrison to be seated while their superiors stand." For a moment the astonished captain lost his usual assurance. In that moment he unwittingly scrambled to his feet in response to the commanding look of the gray eyes that stared at him so steadily. The instant his brain cleared he regretted the action, but another lightning thought saved him from the folly of defying the resident by reseating himself in the chair he had vacated. Furious at Peter Gross, furious at himself, he struggled futilely for an effective reply and failed to find it. In the end he took refuge in a sullen silence. Peter Gross turned again to Muller. "Here are my credentials, _mynheer_, and a letter from his excellency, the governor-general," he announced simply. With the words he placed in Muller's hands two envelopes plentifully decorated with sealing-wax stamped with the great seal of the Netherlands. The _controlleur_ took them with trembling fingers. Peter Gross calmly appropriated a chair. As he seated himself he remarked: "Gentlemen, you may sit." Van Slyck ignored the permission and strolled to one end of the veranda. He was thinking deeply, and all the while stole covert looks at Peter Gross. Had he been mistaken, after all, in his estimate of the man? Was this apparent guilelessness and simplicity a mask? Were Koyala and Muller right? Or was the resident's sudden assumption of dignity a petty vanity finding vent in the display of newly acquired powers? He stole another look. That face, it was so frank and ingenuous, so free from cunning and deceit, and so youthful. Its very boyishness persuaded Van Slyck. Vanity was the inspiration for the resident's sudden assertion of the prerogatives of his office, he decided, the petty vanity of a boor eager to demonstrate authority. Confidence restored, he became keenly alert for a chance to humble this froward Yankee. It was some time before Muller finished reading the documents. He was breathing heavily the while, for he felt that he was reading his own death-warrant. There was no doubting their authenticity, for they were stamped with the twin lions of the house of Orange and the motto, "_Je Maintiendrai_." The signature at the bottom of each was the familiar scrawl of Java's gamecock governor. Muller stared at them blankly for a long time, as though he half hoped to find some mitigation of the blow that swept his vast administrative powers as acting resident from him to the magistracy of a district. Dropping them on his lap at last with a weary sigh, he remarked: "Welcome, Mynheer Gross, to Bulungan. I wish I could say more, but I cannot. The most I can say is that I am happy his excellency has at last yielded to my petition and has relieved me of a portion of my duties. It is a hard, hard residency to govern, _mynheer_." "A splendid start," Van Slyck muttered to himself under his breath. "So I have been informed, _mynheer_," Peter Gross replied gravely. "Pardon me a moment." He turned toward Van Slyck: "Captain, I have a letter for you also from his excellency. It will inform you of my appointment." "It would be better form, perhaps, _mynheer_, for me to receive his excellency's commands at Fort Wilhelmina," Van Slyck replied suavely, delighted at being able to turn the tables. "Very true, very true, _kapitein_, if you insist," Peter Gross agreed quietly. "I hope to visit you at the fort within the hour. In the mean time you will excuse Mynheer Muller and me." For the second time a cold chill of doubt seized Van Slyck. Was it possible that he had misjudged his man? If he had, it was doubly dangerous to leave Muller alone with him. He resolved to force the issue. "A thousand pardons, _mynheer_," he apologized smilingly. "Mynheer Muller just now requested me to remain." A swift change came into the face of Peter Gross. His chin shot forward; in place of the frank simplicity on which Van Slyck had based his estimate was a look of authority. "Mynheer Muller cancels that invitation at my request," he announced sternly. Van Slyck glanced in quick appeal at his associate, but Muller's eyes were already lowering under Peter Gross's commanding glance. Unable to find a straw of excuse for holding the captain, the _controlleur_ stammered: "Certainly, _mynheer_. I will see you later, _kapitein_." Even then Van Slyck lingered, afraid now to leave Muller alone. But the cold, gray eyes of Peter Gross followed him; they expressed a decision from which there was no appeal. Furious at Muller, furious at his own impotence, the captain walked slowly across the veranda. Half-way down the steps he turned with a glare of defiance, but thought better of it. Raging inwardly, and a prey to the blackest passions, he strode toward the stockade. The unhappy sentinel at the gate, a Javanese colonial, was dozing against the brass cannon. "Devil take you, is this the way you keep guard?" Van Slyck roared and leaped at the man. His sword flashed from its scabbard and he brought the flat of the blade on the unhappy wretch's head. The Javanese dropped like a log. "Bring that carrion to the guard-house and put some one on the gate that can keep his eyes open," Van Slyck shouted to young Lieutenant Banning, officer of the day. White to the lips, Banning saluted, and executed the orders. In barracks that night the soldiers whispered fearfully to each other that a _budjang brani_ (evil spirit) had seized their captain again. CHAPTER XIII A FEVER ANTIDOTE "You have found Bulungan a difficult province to govern, _mynheer_?" Peter Gross asked. The words were spoken in a mild, ingratiating manner. Peter Gross's voice had the friendly quality that so endeared him to all who made his acquaintance, and the harshness that had distinguished his curt dismissal of the supercilious Van Slyck was wholly absent. Muller wiped away the drops of perspiration that had gathered on his forehead. A prey to conscience, Van Slyck's dismissal had seemed to him the beginning of the end. "_Ach, mynheer_," he faltered, "it has been a heavy task. Too much for one man, altogether too much. Since Mynheer de Jonge left here two years ago I have been both resident and _controlleur_. I have worked night and day, and the heavy work, and the worry, have made me almost bald." That a connection existed between baldness and overwork was a new theory to Peter Gross and rather amusing, since he knew the circumstances. But not the faintest flicker of a smile showed on his face. "You have found it difficult, then, I presume, to keep up with all your work?" he suggested. Muller instantly grasped at the straw. "Not only difficult, _mynheer_, but wholly impossible," he vehemently affirmed. "My reports are far behind. I suppose his excellency told you that?" He scanned Peter Gross's face anxiously. The latter's serenity remained undisturbed. "His excellency told me very little," he replied. "He suggested that I consult with you and Captain Van Slyck to get your ideas on what is needed for bettering conditions here. I trust I will have your coöperation, _mynheer_?" Muller breathed a silent sigh of relief. "That you will, _mynheer_," he assured fervently. "I shall be glad to help you all I can. And so will Kapitein Van Slyck, I am sure of that. You will find him a good man--a little proud, perhaps, and headstrong, like all these soldiers, but an experienced officer." Muller nodded sagely. "I am glad to hear that," Peter Gross replied. "The work is a little new to me--I presume you know that?" "So I heard, _mynheer_. This is your first post as resident?" Peter Gross's eyelids quivered a trifle. Muller's admission revealed that he had had correspondence with Ah Sing, for from no other source could the news have leaked out. "This is my first post," he acknowledged. "Possibly you have served as _controlleur_?" Muller suggested. "I am a sailor," Peter Gross replied. "This is my first state appointment." "Then my experience may be of value to you, _mynheer_," Muller declared happily. "You understand accounts, of course?" "In a measure. But I am more a sailor than a supercargo, _mynheer_." "To be sure, to be sure," Muller acquiesced heartily. "A sailor to the sea and to fighting in the bush, and a penman to his books. Leave the accounts to me; I will take care of them for you, _mynheer_. You will have plenty to do, keeping the tribes in order. It was more than I could do. These Dyaks and Malays are good fighters." "So I have been told," Peter Gross assented dryly. "They told you correctly, _mynheer_. But they will get a stern master now--we have heard of your work at Lombock, _mynheer_." The broad compliment was accompanied by an even broader smile. Muller was very much pleased with himself, and thought he was handling a delicate situation in a manner that Van Slyck himself could not have improved upon. Peter Gross's gravity did not relax. "How are the natives? Do you have much difficulty?" he inquired. Muller assumed a wobegone expression. "_Ach, mynheer_," he exclaimed dolorously, "those hill Dyaks are devils. It is one raid after another; they will not let us alone. The rice-fields are swept bare. What the Dyaks do not get, the floods and typhoons get, and the weevils eat the stubble. We have not had a crop in two years. The rice we gathered for taxes from those villages where there was a little blessing on the harvest we had to distribute among the villages where the crop failed to keep our people from starving. That is why we could not ship to Batavia. I wish his excellency would come here himself and see how things are; he would not be so critical about the taxes that are not paid." "Do the coast Dyaks ever make trouble?" Peter Gross asked. Muller glanced at him shrewdly. "It is the hill Dyaks who begin it, _mynheer_. Sometimes my coast Dyaks lose their heads when their crops are burned and their wives and children are stolen, but that is not often. We can control them better than we can the hill people, for they are nearer us. Of course a man runs amuck occasionally, but that you find everywhere." "I hear there is a half-white woman who wields a great influence over them," Peter Gross remarked. "Who is she?" "You mean Koyala, _mynheer_. A wonderful woman with a great influence over her people; they would follow her to death. That was a wise act, _mynheer_, to persuade his excellency to cancel the offer he made for her person. Bulungan will not forget it. You could not have done anything that pleases the people more." "She is very beautiful, I have heard," Peter Gross remarked pensively. Muller glanced at him sharply, and a quick spasm of jealousy contracted his features. The resident might like a pretty face, too, was his instant thought; it was an angle he had not bargained for. This Mynheer Gross was strong and handsome, young--altogether a dangerous rival. His mellow good nature vanished. "That depends on what you call beauty," he said surlily. "She is a witch-woman, and half Dyak." Peter Gross looked up in pretended surprise. "Well, _mynheer_, I am astonished. They told me in Batavia--" He checked himself abruptly. "What did they tell you in Batavia?" Muller demanded eagerly. Peter Gross shook his head. "I should not have spoken, _mynheer_. It was only idle gossip." "Tell me, _mynheer_," Muller pleaded. "_Lieve hemel_, this is the first time in months that some one has told me that Batavia still remembers Muller of Bulungan." "It was only idle rumor," Peter Gross deprecated. "I was told you were going to marry--naturally I believed--but of course as you say it's impossible--" "I to marry?" Muller exclaimed. "Who? Koyala?" Peter Gross's silence was all the confirmation the _controlleur_ needed. A gratified smile spread over his face; he was satisfied now that the resident had no intention of being his rival. "They say that in Batavia?" he asked. "Well, between you and me, _mynheer_, I would have to look far for a fairer bride." "Let me congratulate you," Peter Gross began, but Muller stayed him. "No, not yet, _mynheer_. What I have said is for your ears alone. Remember, you know nothing." "Your confidence is safe with me," Peter Gross assured him. Muller suddenly recollected his duties as host. "Ho, _mynheer_, you must have some Hollands with me," he cried hospitably. "A toast to our good fellowship." He clapped his hands and Cho Seng appeared in the doorway. "A glass of lemonade or iced tea, if you please," Peter Gross stated. "You are a teetotaler?" Muller cried in dismay. "As resident of Bulungan, yes, _mynheer_. A servant of the state cannot be too careful." Muller laughed. "Lemonade and _jenever_, Cho Seng," he directed. "Well, _mynheer_, I'll wager you are the only resident in all the colonies that will not take his glass of Hollands. If it were not for _jenever_ many of us could not live in this inferno. Sometimes it is well to be able to forget for a short time." "If one has a burdened conscience," Peter Gross conditioned quietly. Muller started. He intuitively felt the words were not idle observation, and he glanced at Peter Gross doubtfully. The resident was looking over the broad expanse of sea, and presently remarked: "You have a splendid view here, _mynheer_. I hope the outlook from my house is half so good." Muller roused himself. "That is so, _mynheer_," he said. "I had almost forgotten; we will have to put your house in order at once. It has not been occupied for two years, and will need a thorough cleaning. Meanwhile you must be my guest." "I thank you, _mynheer_," Peter Gross replied quietly. "You will have an establishment, _mynheer_?" Muller asked curiously. "Have you brought servants? If not, I shall be glad to loan you Cho Seng." "Thank you, I am well provided," Peter Gross assured. Cho Seng padded out on the porch and served them. Being a well-trained servant, he scarcely glanced at his employer's guest, but Peter Gross favored him with a thoughtful stare. "Your servant has been with you a long time, _mynheer_?" he inquired carelessly. "A year, _mynheer_. I got him from Batavia. He was recommended by--a friend." The pause was perceptible. "His face seems familiar," Peter Gross remarked in an offhand manner. "But that's probably imagination. It is hard to tell these Chinese apart." Conscious of having said too much again, Muller made no reply. They sipped their drinks in silence, Peter Gross thinking deeply the while why Ah Sing should make a former waiter in his _rumah makan_ Muller's servant. Presently he said: "If it is not too much trouble, _mynheer_, could you show me my house?" "Gladly, _mynheer_," Muller exclaimed, rising with alacrity. "It is only a few steps. We will go at once." For the next half hour Peter Gross and he rambled through the dwelling. It was modeled closely after the _controlleur's_ own, with a similar green and white façade facing the sea. The atmosphere within was damp and musty, vermin scurried at their approach, but Peter Gross saw that the building could be made tenable in a few days. At last they came to a sequestered room on the north side, facing the hills. An almost level expanse of garden lay back of it. "This was Mynheer de Jonge's own apartment," Muller explained. "Here he did most of his work." He sighed heavily. "He was a fine old man. It is too bad the good God had to take him away from us." Peter Gross's lips pressed together tightly. "Mynheer de Jonge was careless of his health, I hear," he remarked. "One cannot be too careful in Bulungan. Therefore, _mynheer_, I must ask you to get me a crew of men busy at once erecting two long houses, after these plans." He took a drawing from his pocket and showed it to Muller. The _controlleur_ blinked at it with a puzzled frown. "These buildings will ruin the view, _mynheer_," he expostulated. "Such long huts--they are big enough for thirty men. What are they for?" "Protection against the fevers, _mynheer_," Peter Gross said dryly. "The fevers that killed Mynheer de Jonge." * * * * * That evening, when Peter Gross had returned to the ship, Muller and Van Slyck met to compare notes. The captain was still boiling with anger; the resident's visit to Fort Wilhelmina had not soothed his ruffled temper. "He told me he brought twenty-five irregulars with him for work in the bush," Van Slyck related. "They are a separate command, and won't be quartered in the fort. If this Yankee thinks he can meddle in the military affairs of the residency he will find he is greatly mistaken." "Where will they be quartered?" Muller asked. "I don't know." "Maybe he will place them in the huts he has ordered me to build back of the residency," Muller remarked, rubbing his bald pate thoughtfully. "He told you to build some huts?" Van Slyck asked. "Yes, some long huts. Big enough for thirty men. He said they were to be a protection against the fevers." "The fevers?" Van Slyck exclaimed in amazement. "Yes, the fevers that killed Mynheer de Jonge, he said." Van Slyck's face became livid with passion. "Against the fevers that killed de Jonge, eh?" he snarled. "The damned Yankee will find there are more than fevers in Bulungan." He flashed a sharp look at Muller. "When you see Koyala," he said, "send her to me." CHAPTER XIV KOYALA'S DEFIANCE From his quarters in the residency building, the same room where his predecessor, the obstinate and perverse de Jonge, had lived his brief and inglorious career, Peter Gross looked across the rolling expanse to the jungle-crested hills of Bulungan. It was now two weeks since his coming. Many changes had been wrought during the fortnight. The residency had been cleared of vermin and made habitable. Paddy Rouse had been installed as secretary and general factotum. The tangle of cane, creeper growth, and nipa palm that had grown in the park of shapely tamarinds since de Jonge's death had been cut away. Two long, low buildings had been erected as barracks, and Captain Carver had converted the newly created plain into a drill-ground. They were drilling now, the khaki-clad twenty-five that had crossed the Java Sea with Peter Gross. Two weeks on shore, supplementing the shipboard quizzes on the drill manual, had welded them into an efficient command. The smartness and precision with which they executed maneuvers compelled a grudging admiration from the stolid Dutch soldiers of Fort Wilhelmina who strolled over daily to watch the drills. "They'll do, they'll do," Peter Gross assured himself with satisfaction. He stepped back to his desk and took a document from it. It was Muller's first report as _controlleur_. Peter Gross ran his eyes down the column of figures and frowned. The accounts balanced and were properly drawn up. The report seemed to be in great detail. Yet he felt that something was wrong. The expenses of administration had been heavy, enormously heavy, he noted. Instead of exporting rice Bulungan had been forced to import to make good crop losses, the report showed. "Mynheer Muller is a good accountant," he observed to himself. "But there are a few items we will have to inquire into." He laid the report aside. The door opened and Paddy Rouse entered. His bright red hair, scrubby nose, and freckled face were in odd contrast to his surroundings, so typically Dutch. Mynheer de Jonge had made this retreat a sanctuary, a bit of old Holland transplanted bodily without regard to differences of latitude and longitude. In the east wall was a blue-tile fireplace. On the mantel stood a big tobacco jar of Delftware with the familiar windmill pattern. Over it hung a long-stemmed Dutch pipe with its highly colored porcelain bowl. The pictures on the wall were Rembrandtesque, gentlemen in doublet and hose, with thin, refined, scholarly faces and the inevitable Vandyke beard. "A lady to see you, sir," Paddy Rouse announced with military curtness, saluting. The irrepressible Irish broke through in a sly twinkle. "She's a beauty, sir." Peter Gross controlled the start of surprise he felt. He intuitively guessed who his visitor was. "You may show her in," he announced. "Yes, sir." "And, Paddy--call Captain Carver, please." "Yes, sir." The shock of red hair darted away. Peter Gross looked out of the window again. The crucial moment, the moment he had looked forward to since accepting his appointment, was upon him. What should he say to her, this woman of two alien, utterly irreconcilable races, this woman so bitterly wronged, this woman with a hot shame in her heart that would not die? How should he approach her, how should he overcome her blind, unreasoning hatred against the dominant white race, how persuade her to trust him, to give her aid for the reclamation of Bulungan? At the same time he wondered why she had come. He had not anticipated this meeting so soon. Was there something back of it? As he asked himself the question his fingers drummed idly on the desk. While he was meditating he became suddenly aware of another presence in the room. Turning, he found himself looking into the eyes of a woman--the woman of his thoughts. She stood beside him, silent, possessed. There was a dagger in the snakeskin girdle she wore about her waist--a single thrust and she could have killed him. He looked at her steadily. Her glance was equally steady. He rose slowly. "You are the Juffrouw Koyala," he announced simply. "Good morning, _juffrouw_." He bowed. There was an instant's hesitation--or was it only his imagination, Peter Gross asked himself--then her form relaxed a trifle. So slight was the movement that he would not have been sure had not every muscle of her perfect body yielded to it with a supple, rhythmic grace. "Won't you be seated?" he remarked conventionally, and placed a chair for her. Not until then did she speak. "It is not necessary, _mynheer_. I have only a few words to say." The cold austerity of her voice chilled Peter Gross. Yet her tones were marvelously sweet--like silver bells, he thought. He bowed and waited expectantly. In a moment's interlude he took stock of her. She was dressed in the native fashion, sarong and kabaya, both of purest white. The kabaya reached to midway between the knees and ankles. Her limbs were bare, except for doe-skin sandals. The girdle about her waist was made from the skins of spotted pit vipers. The handle of the dagger it held was studded with gems, rubies, turquoises, and emeralds. A huge ruby, mounted on a pin, caught the kabaya above her breasts; outside of this she wore no jewelry. Her lustrous black hair hung loosely over her shoulders. Altogether a creature of the jungle, she looked at him with a glance in which defiance was but thinly concealed. "What did you wish to see me about?" Peter Gross asked when he saw that she was awaiting his permission to speak. Something like a spark shot from the glowing coals of her eyes. The tragic intensity of those eyes stirred anew the feeling of pity in the resident's heart. "I am told, _mynheer_, that the governor withdrew his offer for my person at your request," she said coldly. The statement was a question, Peter Gross felt, though put in the form of a declaration. He scrutinized her face sharply, striving to divine her object. "That is true, _juffrouw_," he acknowledged. "Why did you do this, _mynheer_?" Peter Gross did not answer at once. The direct question astonished him. "Why do you ask, _juffrouw_?" he parried. Her finely chiseled head tilted back. Very royal she looked, very queenly, a Diana of the tropic jungle. "Because Koyala Bintang Burung asks no favors from you, Mynheer Gross. Nor from any white man." It was a declaration of war. Peter Gross realized it, and his face saddened. He had expected opposition but not open defiance. He wondered what lay back of it. The Dyak blood in her, always treacherous, never acting without a purpose, was not frank without reason, he assured himself. "I had no intention of doing you a favor, _juffrouw_," he announced quietly. "What was your object, _mynheer_?" The words were hardly out of her mouth before she regretted them. The quick flash of her teeth as she bit her lips revealed the slip. Peter Gross instantly divined the reason--her hostility was so implacable that she would not even parley with him. "To do you justice, _juffrouw_," he replied. The words were like oil on flame. Her whole figure stiffened rigidly. The smoldering light in her eyes flashed into fire. The dusk in her face deepened to night. In a stifled voice, bitter with scorn, she cried: "I want none of your justice, _mynheer_." "No, I suppose not," Peter Gross assented heavily. His head sagged and he stared moodily into the fireplace. Koyala looked at him questioningly for a moment, then turned swiftly and glided toward the door. A word from Peter Gross interrupted her. "_Juffrouw!_" She turned slowly. The cold disdain her face expressed was magnificent. "What shall I do?" he entreated. His mild, gray eyes were fixed on her flaming orbs pleadingly. Her lips curled in scornful contempt. "That is for you to decide, _mynheer_," she replied. "Then I cross from the slate all that has been charged against you, _juffrouw_. You are free to come and go as you wish." A flash of anger crossed Koyala's face. "Your pardon is neither asked nor desired, _mynheer_," she retorted. "I must do my duty as I see it," Peter Gross replied. "All that I ask of you, _juffrouw_, is that you do not use your influence with the natives to hinder or oppose the plans I have for their betterment. May I have your pledge for that?" "I make no promises and give no pledges, _mynheer_," Koyala announced coldly. "I beg your pardon--I should not have asked it of you. All I ask is a chance to work out my plans without hindrance from those whose welfare I am seeking." Koyala's lips curled derisively. "You can promote our welfare best by going back to Java, _mynheer_," she retorted. Peter Gross looked at her sadly. "_Juffrouw_," he said, "you are speaking words that you do not know the meaning of. Leave Bulungan? What would happen then? The Chinese would come down on you from the north, the Bugis from the east, and the Bajaus from every corner of the sea. Your coasts would be harried, your people would be driven out of their towns to the jungles, trade would cease, the rice harvests would fail, starvation would come upon you. Your children would be torn from you to be sold in the slave-market. Your women would be stolen. You are a woman, _juffrouw_, a woman of education and understanding; you know what the white man saves you from." "And what have you whites given us in return for your protection?" she cried fiercely. "Your law, which is the right of a white man to cheat and rob the ignorant Dyak under the name of trade. Your garrisons in our city, which mean taking away our weapons so that our young men become soft in muscle and short in breath and can no longer make war like their fathers did. Your religion, which you force on us with a sword and do not believe yourself. Your morals, which have corrupted the former sanctity of our homes and have wrought an infamy unspeakable. Gin, to make our men stagger like fools; opium, to debauch us all! These are the white man's gifts to the Dyaks of Borneo. I would rather see my people free, with only their bows and arrows and sumpitans, fighting a losing fight in their jungles against the Malays and the Chinese slave-hunters, than be ruined by arrach and gin and opium like they are now." She was writhing in her passion. Her bosom rose and fell tumultuously, and her fingers opened and closed like the claws of an animal. In this mood she was a veritable tigress, Peter Gross thought. "All that you have said is the truth," he admitted. He looked very weary, his shoulders were bent, and he stared gloomily into the hearth. Koyala stared at him with a fierce intensity, half doubtful whether he was mocking her. But his dejection was too patent to be pretense. "If you believe that, why are you here?" she demanded. "Because I believe that Bulungan needs me to correct these evils, _juffrouw_," he replied gently. Koyala laughed shrilly, contemptuously. Peter Gross's form straightened and the thin, firm lines of his lips tightened. He lifted a restraining hand. "May I speak for a few moments, _juffrouw_?" he asked. "I want to tell you what I am planning to do for Bulungan. I shall put an end to the gin and opium trade. I shall drive the slave-hunters and the pirates from these seas, and the head-hunters from their _babas_ (jungles). I shall make Bulungan so peaceful that the rice-grower can plough, and sow, and harvest with never a backward look to see if an enemy is near him. I shall take the young men of Bulungan and train them in the art of war, that they may learn how to keep peace within their borders and the enemy without. I shall readjust the taxes so that the rich will pay their just share as well as the poor. I shall bring in honest tax-collectors who will account for the last grain of rice they receive. Before I shall finish my work the _Gustis_ (Princes) will break their krisses and the bushmen their sumpitans; hill Dyak and coast Dyak will sit under the same tapang tree and take sirih and betel from the same box, and the Kapala Kampong shall say to the people of his village--go to the groves and harvest the cocoanut, a tenth for me and a tenth for the state, and the balance for you and your children." Koyala looked at him searchingly. His tremendous earnestness seemed to impress her. "You have taken a big task upon yourself, _mynheer_," she observed. "I will do all this, _juffrouw_, if you will help me," Peter Gross affirmed solemnly. Scornful defiance leaped again into Koyala's eyes and she drew back proudly. "I, _mynheer_? I am a Dyak of Bulungan," she said. "You are half a daughter of my people," Peter Gross corrected. "You have had the training of a white woman. Whether you are friend or foe, you shall always be a white woman to me, _juffrouw_." A film came across Koyala's eyes. She started to reply, checked herself, and then spoke, lashing the words out between set teeth. "Promise upon promise, lie upon lie, that has been the way with you whites. I hate you all, I stand by my people." Swift as the bird whose name she bore, she flashed through the door. Peter Gross took a half-step forward to restrain her, stopped, and walked slowly back to his chair. "She will come back," he murmured to himself; "she will come back. I have sown the seed, and it has sunk in fertile ground." * * * * * In the banyan grove Koyala, breathing rapidly because of her swift flight, came upon Kapitein Van Slyck. The captain rose eagerly as she darted through the cane. "What did he say?" he asked. "Did he try to make love to you?" Koyala turned on him furiously. "You are a fool, we are all fools!" she exclaimed. "He is more than a match for all of us. I will see you later, when I can think; not now." She left the clearing. Van Slyck stalked moodily back to the fort. At the edge of the grove he slashed viciously at a pale anemone. "Damn these women, you never can trust them," he snarled. When the only sounds audible in the clearing were the chirping of the crickets and the fluting of the birds, a thin, yellow face with watery eyes peered cautiously through the cane. Seeing the coast clear, Cho Seng padded decorously homeward to the _controlleur's_ house, stepping carefully in the center of the path where no snakes could lie concealed. CHAPTER XV THE COUNCIL The council of the chiefs was assembling. From every part of Bulungan residency they came, the Rajahs and the Gustis, the Datu Bandars or governors of the Malay villages, and the Orang Kayas and Kapala Kampongs, the Dyak village heads. Their coming was in answer to the call of Peter Gross, resident, for messengers had been sent to every part of the province to announce that a great _bitchara_ (talk) was to be held in Bulungan town. They came in various ways. The Malay Datu Bandars of the coast towns, where the Malays were largely in the ascendent, voyaged in royal sailing proas, some of which were covered with canopies of silk. Each had twenty men or more, armed to the teeth, in his cortège. The inland Rajahs traveled in even greater state. Relays of slaves carried them in sedan chairs, and fifty gleaming krisses marched before and fifty after. The humbler Orang Kayas and Kapala Kampongs came on foot, with not more than ten attendants in their trains, for a village head, regardless of the number of buffaloes in his herd, must not aspire to the same state as a Rajah, or even a Gusti. The Rajah Wobanguli received each arrival with a stately dignity befitting the ruler of the largest town in the residency, and assigned him and his people the necessary number of houses to shelter them. But these were not the only strangers in Bulungan. From all the country round, and from every village along the coast, Dyaks, Malays, Chinese, and Bugis, and the Bajau sea-wanderers, streamed into the town. The usually commodious market-place seemed to shrink and dwindle as the crowd of traders expanded, and the raucous cries of the venders rang about the street to a late hour at night. In every second house a cock-fight was in progress. Sweating, steaming bodies crushed each other in the narrow streets and threatened ruin to the thatched houses. Malays scowled at Dyaks, and Dyaks glared vindictively at Malays. Shrewd, bland Chinese intermingled with the crowd and raked in the silver and copper coins that seemed to flow toward them by a magnetic attraction. Fierce, piratical Bugis cast amorous glances at the Dyak belles who, although they shrank timidly into their fathers' huts, were not altogether displeased at having their charms noticed. There was hardly a moment without its bickering and fierce words, and there were frequent brawls when women fled shrieking, for hill Dyak and coast Dyak and Malay and Bugi could not meet at such close quarters without the feuds of untold generations breaking out. Foremost in the minds and on the lips of every individual in that reeking press of humanity was the question: "What will the _orang blanda_ (white man) want?" Speculation ran riot, rumor winged upon rumor, and no tale was too fantastical to lack ready repetition and credulous listeners. _Mynheer_ would exact heavy penalties for every act of piracy and killing traced back to Bulungan, so the stories ran; _mynheer_ would confiscate all the next rice crop; _mynheer_ would establish great plantations and every village would be required to furnish its quota of forced labor; _mynheer_ would demand the three handsomest youths from each village as hostages for future good behavior. Thus long before the council assembled, the tide was setting against Peter Gross. Bulungan was ripe and ready for revolt. It chafed under the fetters of a white man's administration, lightly as those fetters sat. Wildest of Borneo's residencies, it was the last refuge of the adventurous spirits of the Malay archipelago who found life in the established provinces of Java, Sumatra, and Celebes all too tame. They had tasted freedom for two years under Muller's innocuous administration and did not intend to permit the old order to be changed. Diverse as their opinions on other matters might be, bitter as their feuds might be, hill Dyak and coast Dyak, Malay, Chinese, Bugi, and Bajau were united on this point. So for the first time in Bulungan's history a feeling of unanimity pervaded a conclave of such mongrel elements as were now gathered in old "Rotterdam" town. This feeling was magnified by a report--originating, no one knew where, and spreading like wildfire--that the great Datu, the chief of all the pirates of the island seas, the mysterious and silent head of the great confederation, was in Bulungan and would advise the chiefs how to answer their new white governor. Peter Gross was not wholly ignorant of public sentiment in the town. One of Captain Carver's first acts on coming to Bulungan was to establish the nucleus of a secret service to keep him informed on public sentiment among the natives. A Dyak lad named Inchi, whom Carver had first hired to help with the coarsest camp work, and who had formed an immediate attachment for his soldierly white _baas_, was the first recruit in this service and brought in daily reports. "Inchi tells me that the chiefs have decided they will pay no more tax to the government," Carver announced to Peter Gross on the morning of the council. The resident and he were on the drill-ground where they could talk undisturbed. Peter Gross's lips tightened. "I expected opposition," he replied non-committally. "Too bad we haven't the _Prins Lodewyk_ here," Carver remarked. "A few shells around their ears might bring them to their senses." "We don't need such an extreme measure yet," Peter Gross deprecated gently. "I hardly know whether it's safe for us to venture into the town," Carver observed. "Couldn't you arrange to have the meeting here, away from all that mob? There must be thirty thousand people down below." "I would rather meet them on their own ground." "It's a big risk. If there should be an attack, we couldn't hold them." "Thirty thousand against twenty-five would be rather long odds," Peter Gross assented, smiling. "You're going to use the fort garrison, too, aren't you?" Carver asked quickly. "I shall take just two people with me," Peter Gross announced. "My God, Mr. Gross! You'll never get back!" Carver's face was tense with anxiety. "Three people will be just as effective as twenty-six, captain," Peter Gross declared mildly. "The victory we must gain to-day is a moral victory--we must show the natives that we are not afraid." "But they're bound to break loose. A show of military force would restrain them--" "I think it would be more a provocation than a restraint, captain. They would see our helplessness. If I go alone they will reason that we are stronger than they think we are. Our confidence will beget uncertainty among them." Carver had long since learned the futility of trying to dissuade his chief from a course once adopted. He merely remarked: "Of course I'll go?" "I'm sorry, captain--" Peter Gross's face expressed sincere regret. "Nothing would please me more than to have you with me, but I can't spare you here." Carver realized that himself. He swallowed his disappointment. "Whom were you planning on taking?" he asked abruptly. "Inchi--" Carver nodded approval. --"And Paddy Rouse." "Paddy?" the captain exclaimed. "Of what use--I beg your pardon, Mr. Gross." Peter Gross smiled. "It does seem a peculiar mission to take that youngster on," he said. "But Paddy's going to be rarely useful to me to-day, useful in a way every man couldn't be. These natives have a superstitious reverence for red hair." An understanding smile broke upon Carver's face. "Of course. A mighty good idea. Bluff and superstition are two almighty-powerful weapons against savages." "I also hope that we shall have another ally there," Peter Gross said. "Who is that?" "The Juffrouw Koyala." Carver frowned. "Mr. Gross," he said, "I don't trust that woman. She's Dyak, and that's the most treacherous breed that was ever spawned. We've got to look out for her. She's an actress, and mighty clever in playing her little part, but she can't hide the hate in her heart. She'll keep us on the string and pretend she's won over, but the first chance she gets to strike, she'll do it. I've met that kind of woman in the Philippines." "I think you are wholly mistaken," Peter Gross replied decisively. Carver glanced at him quickly, searchingly. "She's a damn pretty woman," he remarked musingly, and shot another quick glance at the resident. "That has nothing to do with the matter," Peter Gross replied sternly. Abruptly dropping the topic, Carver asked: "At what hour does the council meet?" "Four o'clock." "You'll be back by sundown?" "I am afraid not. I shall probably spend the night with Wobanguli." Carver groaned. "Send Inchi if things look as though they were going wrong," he said. "Might I suggest that you let him go to the village right away, and keep away from you altogether?" "If you'll instruct him so, please. In case there is trouble, throw your men into the fort." He took a package of papers from his pocket and gave them to Carver. "Here are some documents which I want you to take care of for me. They are all addressed. One of them is for you; it appoints you military commandant of Bulungan in case something should happen to me down below. Don't use it otherwise. If Van Slyck should make a fuss you will know how to handle him." "I understand," Carver replied shortly, and pocketed the envelope. He strode back to his shelter with a heavy heart. CHAPTER XVI PETER GROSS'S PLEDGE The afternoon sun was pouring its full strength on the coral highway to Bulungan when Peter Gross rode to the council. He was mounted on a thoroughbred that he had brought with him from Java, and was in full-dress uniform. On his breast gleamed several decorations awarded him by Governor-General Van Schouten. It was the first time he had used them, and it was not vanity that inspired him to pin them on his coat. He realized the importance of employing every artifice to impress the native mind favorably toward its new ruler. Paddy Rouse was in field-service uniform, and rode a chestnut borrowed from the military stables. The terrific din created by several thousand gongs of brass, copper, and wood, beaten in every part of Bulungan to testify to the holiday, was plainly audible as they cantered along the road. "Sounds like the Fourth of July," Paddy remarked cheerfully. When they neared the village two Gustis, youthful Dyak chiefs with reputations yet to make, charged toward them with bared krisses. As the hoofs of their jet-black steeds thundered toward Peter Gross, Paddy gave his horse the spur and shot it half a length ahead of the resident. His hand was on the butt of his pistol when a low-voiced warning from his chief restrained him. Just as it seemed that they would be ridden down the horsemen parted and flashed by with krisses lifted to salute. They wheeled instantly and fell in behind the resident. "Whew," Paddy whistled softly. "I thought they meant business." "It was meant to do us honor," Peter Gross explained. More native princes spurred from the town to join the procession. In each instance the demonstration the same. Paddy noted that every one was mounted on a black horse and carried a kris whose handle was of either gold or ivory, and was studded with gems. None used saddles, but each horse was caparisoned with a gayly colored saddle-cloth embroidered with gold thread. The bridles were of many-colored cords and the bits of silver. He pointed out these things to Peter Gross in an undertone. "That shows that they are all of princely rank," Peter Gross informed him. The din from the gongs became almost deafening as they entered the outskirts of the town. The crowd thickened also, and it became increasingly difficult to break through the press. Paddy Rouse's eyes swam as he looked into the sea of black and brown faces grimacing and contorting. The scene was a riot of color; every native was dressed in his holiday best, which meant garments of the gaudiest and brightest dyes that his means enabled him to procure. Paddy noticed a patriarch in a pea-green velvet jacket, blue and orange chawat, or waist-cloth, and red, yellow, and blue kerchief head-dress. Most of the kerchief head-dresses, worn turban-fashion, were in three colors, blue predominating, he observed. "Big reception they're giving us," Paddy remarked. Peter Gross's reply was noncommittal. He felt a little of the forces that were at work beneath the surface, and realized how quickly this childishly curious, childishly happy mob could be converted into a bedlam of savagery. As they neared the huge twin Hindu deities, carved in stone, that formed the gate-posts of Wobanguli's palace grounds and the council-hall enclosure, the crowd massed so thickly that it was impossible for them to proceed. Paddy drove his horse into the press and split an aisle by a vicious display of hoofs and the liberal use of his quirt-stock. The crowd gave way sullenly, those behind refusing to give way for those in front. Paddy leaned sidewise in his saddle as they passed between the scowling gods. "Into the lion's den," he whispered to Peter Gross. His eye was sparkling; roughing the natives had whetted his appetite for action. Peter Gross sprang from his horse lightly--he had learned to ride before he went to sea--and entered the dimly lit hall. Rouse remained at the entrance and began looking about for Inchi. The little Malay was rubbing down a horse, but gave no sign of recognition when Rouse's glance met his. As Paddy looked away, his face, too, sobered. Only his eyes were more keenly alert. As Peter Gross became accustomed to the semi-darkness, he distinguished about forty chiefs and princes seated along the side walls of the building. There were two Europeans in the room in one corner. Peter Gross guessed their identity before he could distinguish their faces; they were Muller and Van Slyck. At the farther end of the hall was a platform. Two chairs of European make had been placed upon it. Wobanguli occupied one, the other was vacant. The hall was thick with smoke, for those who were not chewing betel were laboring on big Dutch pipes, introduced by their white rulers. Silence greeted Peter Gross as he slowly walked the length of the hall, and none rose to do him the customary honor. Instead of mounting the platform he remained standing at its base and looked sternly into the face of the Rajah. In a voice suspiciously sweet he asked: "Is it so long since a son of the white father has come to Bulungan that you have forgotten how he must be received, O Rajah?" There was a moment's pregnant pause, a moment when the royal mind did some quick thinking. Then Wobanguli rose and said: "We have heard the call and we are here, resident." The moment Wobanguli rose a quick rustle and the clicking of steel apprised Peter Gross that the others also had risen. Although he knew it was not in his honor--custom forbade lesser chiefs from sitting while the Rajah stood--he accepted it as such. He did not look around until he had mounted the platform. Then he gazed at each man individually. Something in his silent scrutiny sent a cold chill into the hearts of more than one of the chiefs who had endured it, but most of them returned it boldly and defiantly. Not until each of the forty had felt the power of his mesmeric glance did Peter Gross speak. "You may tell the council the purpose of this meting, Rajah," he announced, turning to Wobanguli, and then seated himself in the vacant chair. As Wobanguli came forward, Peter Gross had an opportunity to measure his man. The Rajah was tall, quite tall for a Bornean, powerfully built, but a trifle stoop-shouldered. His features were pronouncedly Malay rather than Dyak; there was a furtive look in his half-shut eyes that suggested craft and cunning, and his ever-ready smile was too suavely pleasant to deceive the resident. "A panther; he will be hard to tame," was Peter Gross's unspoken thought. Wobanguli began speaking in sonorous tones, using Malay-Dyak dialect, the _lingua franca_ of the residency. "Rajahs, Custis, Datus, and Kapalas, to-day hath Allah and the Hanu Token and the great god Djath given a new ruler to Bulungan." Peter Gross's brow contracted thoughtfully. It was apparent from Wobanguli's exordium that he was striving to please the adherents of every faith represented among the natives present. The Rajah continued: "In the days when the great fire mountains poured their rivers of flame into the boiling ocean our forefathers, led by the great god Djath, came to Borneo. They built villages and begat children. The fire mountains belched flame and molten rock, the great floods came to drown the mountains, the earth shook, and whole jungles were swallowed up; but ever our fathers clung to the island they had come to possess. Then Djath said: 'This is a strong people. I shall make it my own, my chosen people, and give to them and to their children's children forever the land of Borneo.' "From the seed of our fathers sprang many tribes. New nations came from over the sea and found habitation with us, and we called them 'brother.' Last of all came the white man. He sold us guns, and knives, and metals, and fine horses, and the drink that Allah says we must not touch, and opium. By and bye, when he was strong and we were weak, he said: 'I will give you a resident who shall be a father unto you. There will be no more killings, but every man shall have plenty of gongs and brass rings for his wives, and many bolts of brilliantly colored cloth, and much tobacco.' So we let the white man give us a ruler." There was an ominous stirring among the assembled chiefs. Peter Gross's face maintained an inscrutable calm, but he was thinking rapidly. Wobanguli's speech had all the elements of nitroglycerine, he realized. "It is now many moons since the first white father came to dwell with us," Wobanguli continued. "Three times has the great fire mountain belched flame and smoke to show she was angry with us, and three times have we given of our gifts to appease the spirits. We are poor. Our women hide their nakedness with the leaves of palm-trees. Our tribesmen carve their kris-handles from the branches of the ironwood-tree." He paused. The air was electric. Another word, a single passionate plea, would unsheath forty krisses, Peter Gross perceived. Wobanguli was looking at him, savage exultation leering in his eyes, but Peter Gross's face did not change a muscle, and he waited with an air of polite attention. Wobanguli faced the assembly again: "Our elder brother from over the sea, who was sent to us by the little father at Batavia, will tell us to-day how he will redeem the promises made to us," he announced. "I have spoken." So abrupt was the climax that Peter Gross scarcely realized the Rajah had concluded until he was back in his chair. There was a moment's dramatic hush. Conscious that Wobanguli had brought him to the very edge of a precipice as a test, conscious, too, that the Rajah was disappointed because his intended victim had failed to reveal the weakness he had expected to find, Peter Gross rose slowly and impressively to meet the glances of the forty chiefs now centered so hostilely upon him. "Princes of our residency of Bulungan"--he began; there was a stir in the crowd; he was using the native tongue, the same dialect Wobanguli had used--"the Rajah Wobanguli has told you the purpose of this meeting. He has told you of the promises made by those who were resident here before me. He has reminded you that these promises have not been fulfilled. But he has not told you why they were not fulfilled. I am here to-day to tell you the reason." A low, whistling sound, the simultaneous sharp intake of breath through the nostrils of forty men, filled the room. Pipes and betel and sirih were laid aside. Rajahs, governors, and princes craned their heads and looked ominously over the shafts of their spears at their resident. "There are in this land three peoples, or perhaps four," Peter Gross said. "Only two of these are the real owners of Borneo, the people whose fathers settled this island in the early days, as your Rajah has told you. They are the hill Dyaks and the sea Dyaks, who are one people though two nations. The Malays are outlanders. The Chinese are outlanders. They have the same right to live here that the white man has--no more, no less. That right comes from the increase in riches they bring and the trade they bring." A hoarse murmur arose. The Malay Datus' scowls were blacker. The Dyaks looked sullenly at their arch-enemies, the brown immigrants from Malacca. "Long before the first white man came here, the two nations of Dyaks--the Dyaks of the sea and the Dyaks of the hills--were at war with each other. The skulls of the people of each nation decorated the lodge-poles of their enemies. The Dyaks of the sea made treaties with the Bajaus, the Malays, the Bugis, and the Chinese sea-rovers. Together these people have driven the Dyaks of the hills far inland, almost to the crest of the great fire mountains. But the price they pay is the surrender of their strong men to row the proas of their masters, the pirates. The spring rains come, but the rice is left unsowed, for a fair crop attracts the spoilers, and only the poor are left in peace. Poverty has come upon your Dyaks. Your kris-handles are of wood, while those of your masters are of gold and jewels." Peter Gross paused. The Dyaks were glaring at the Malays, the Malays looked as fiercely back. Several chiefs were fingering their kris-handles. Muller was watching the tribesmen in anxious bewilderment; Van Slyck hid in the shadows. "Forget your feuds and listen to me," Peter Gross thundered in a voice of authority that focused instant attention upon him. "Let me tell you what I have come to do for Bulungan." He turned to a group of short, lithely built men armed with spears. "To you, hill Dyaks, I bring peace and an end of all raiding. No more shall the coast-rovers cross your borders. Your women will be safe while you hunt dammar gum and resin in the forests; the man who steals a woman against her will shall hang. I, your resident, have spoken." He turned toward the delegation of coast natives. "To you, Dyaks of the sea, I bring liberation from your masters who make slaves of your young men. There will be no more raids; you may grow your crops in peace." To the scowling Malays he said: "Merchants of Malacca, think not that my heart is bitter against you, for I bring rich gifts to you also. I bring you the gift of a happy and contented people, rich in the produce of this fertile island, eager to buy the things you bring to them in trade. The _balas_ money which you now pay the pirates will be counted with your profits, for I will drive the pirates from these seas. "These are my commands to all of you. Keep your houses in order. If a Dyak of the hills slay a Dyak of the sea, keep your krisses sheathed and come and tell me. If a man take a woman that is not his own, keep your krisses sheathed and come and tell me. If your neighbor arm his people and drive your people to the jungle and burn their village, come and tell me. I will do justice. But swift and terrible will be my vengeance on him who breaks the law." An ominous rumble of angry dissent filled the hall. It was instantly quelled. Towering over them, his powerful frame lifted to its full height, Peter Gross glared at them so fiercely that the stoutest hearts among them momentarily quailed and shrank back. Taking instant advantage of the silence, he announced sternly: "I am now ready to hear your grievances, princes of the residency. You may speak one by one in the order of your rank." Calmly turning his back on them, he walked back to his chair. There was a tense silence of several minutes while Datu looked at Rajah and Rajah at Datu. Peter Gross saw the fierce sway of passions and conflicting opinions. Muller looked from face to face with an anxious frown, striving to ascertain the drift of the tide, and Van Slyck grinned saturninely. A powerful Malay suddenly leaped to his feet, and glared defiantly at Peter Gross. "Hear me, princes of Bulungan," he shouted. "Year after year the servants of him who rules in Batavia have come to us and said: 'Give us a tenth of your rice, of your dammar gum, give us bamboo, and rattan, and cocoanuts as tribute money and we will protect you from your enemies.' Year after year have our fields been laid waste by the Dyaks of the hills, by the Beggars of the sea, till our people are poor and starve in the jungles, but no help has come from the white man. Twice has my village been burned by men from the white man's ships that throw fire and iron; not once have those ships come to save me from the sea Beggars. Then one day a light came. Grogu, I said, make a peace with the great Datu of the rovers of the sea, give him a part of each harvest. Three great rains have now passed since I made that peace. He has kept my coasts free from harm, he has punished the people of the hills who stole my cattle. With whom I ask you, princes of Bulungan, shall I chew the betel of friendship?" "Ai-yai-yai-yai," was the angry murmur that filled the hall in a rising assent. A wizened old Malay, with a crooked back and bereft of one eye, rose and shook a spear venomously. His three remaining teeth were ebon from excessive betel-chewing. "I had forty buffaloes," he cried in a shrill, crackly voice. "The white man in the house on the hill came and said: 'I must have ten for the balas (tribute money).' The white kris-bearer from the war-house on the hill came and said: 'I must have ten for my firestick-bearers.' The white judge came and said: 'I must have ten for a fine because your people killed a robber from the hills.' Then came the sea-rovers and said: 'Give us the last ten, but take in exchange brass gongs, and copper-money, and silks from China.' Whom must I serve, my brothers, the thief who takes and gives or the thief who takes all and gives nothing?" The tumult increased. A tall and dignified chief in the farther corner of the hall, who had kept aloof from the others to this time, now rose and lifted a hand for silence. The poverty of his dress and the lack of gay trappings showed that he was a hill Dyak, for no Dyak of the sea was so poor that he had only one brass ring on his arm. Yet he was a man of influence, Peter Gross observed, for every face at once turned in his direction. "My brothers, there has been a feud between my people of the hill and your people of the coasts for many generations," he said. "Yet we are all of one father, and children in the same house. It is not for me to say to-day who is right and who is wrong. The white chief bids us give each other the sirih and betel. He tells us he will make us both rich and happy. The white chief's words are good. Let us listen and wait to see if his deeds are good." There was a hoarse growl of disapproval. Peter Gross perceived with a sinking heart that most of those present joined in it. He looked toward Wobanguli, but that chieftain sedulously avoided his glance and seemed satisfied to let matters drift. A young Dyak chief suddenly sprang to the middle of the floor. His trappings showed that he was of Gusti rank. "I have heard the words of the white chief and they are the words of a master speaking to his slaves," he shouted. "When the buck deserts his doe to run from the hunter, when the pheasant leaves the nest of eggs she has hatched to the mercy of the serpent, when the bear will no longer fight for her cubs, then will the Sadong Dyaks sit idly by while the robber despoils their villages and wait for the justice of the white man, but not before. This is my answer, white chief!" Whipping his kris from his girdle, he hurled it at the floor in front of Peter Gross. The steel sank deeply into the wood, the handle quivering and scintillating in a shaft of sunlight that entered through a crack in the roof. An instant hush fell on the assembly. Through the haze and murk Peter Gross saw black eyes that flamed with hate, foaming lips, and passion-distorted faces. The lust for blood was on them, a moment more and nothing could hold them back, he saw. He sprang to the center of the platform. "Men of Bulungan, hear me," he shouted in a voice of thunder. "Your measure of wickedness is full. You have poisoned the men sent here to rule you, you have strangled your judges and thrown their bodies to the crocodiles, you have killed our soldiers with poisoned arrows. To-day I am here, the last messenger of peace the white man will send you. Accept peace now, and you will be forgiven. Refuse it, and your villages will be burned, your people will be hunted from jungle to swamp and swamp to highland, there will be no brake too thick and no cave too deep to hide them from our vengeance. The White Father will make the Dyaks of Bulungan like the people of the lands under the sea--a name only. Choose ye, what shall it be?" For a moment his undaunted bearing and the terrible threat he had uttered daunted them. They shrank back like jackals before the lion, their voices stilled. Then a deep guttural voice, that seemed to come through the wall behind the resident's chair, cried: "Kill him, Dyaks of Bulungan. He speaks with two tongues to make you slaves on the plantations." Peter Gross sprang toward the wall and crashed his fist through the bamboo. A section gave way, revealing an enclosed corridor leading to another building. The corridor was empty. The mischief had been done, however, and the courage of the natives revived. "Kill the white man, kill him," the hoarse cry arose. A dozen krisses flashed. A spear was hurled, it missed Peter Gross by a hair's breadth. Dyaks and Malays surged forward, Wobanguli alone was between him and them. Paddy Rouse sprang inside with drawn pistol, but a hand struck up his pistol arm and his harmless shot went through the roof. A half-dozen sinewy forms pinned him to the ground. At the same instant Peter Gross drew his automatic and leaped toward Wobanguli. Before the Rajah could spring aside the resident's hand closed over his throat and the resident's pistol pressed against his head. "One move and I shoot," Peter Gross cried. The brown wave stopped for a moment, but it was only a moment, Peter Gross realized, for life was cheap in Borneo, even a Rajah's life. He looked wildly about--then the tumult stilled as suddenly as though every man in the hall had been simultaneously stricken with paralysis. Gross's impressions of the next few moments were rather vague. He dimly realized that some one had come between him and the raging mob. That some one was waving the natives back. It was a woman. He intuitively sensed her identity before he perceived her face--it was Koyala. The brown wave receded sullenly, like the North sea backing from the dikes of Holland. Peter Gross replaced his pistol in its holster and released Wobanguli--Koyala was speaking. In the morgue-like silence her silvery voice rang with startling clearness. "Are you mad, my children of Bulungan?" she asked sorrowfully. "Have you lost your senses? Would the taking of this one white life compensate for the misery you would bring on our people?" She paused an instant. Every eye was riveted upon her. Her own glorious orbs turned heavenward, a mystic light shone in them, and she raised her arms as if in invocation. "Hear me, my children," she chanted in weird, Druidical tones. "Into the north flew the Argus Pheasant, into the north, through jungle and swamp and canebrake, by night and by day, for the Hanu Token were her guides and the great god Djath and his servants, the spirits of the Gunong Agong called her. She passed through the country of the sea Dyaks, and she saw no peace; she passed through the country of the hill Dyaks, and she saw no peace. Up, up she went, up the mountain of the flaming fires, up to the very edge of the pit where the great god Djath lives in the flames that never die. There she saw Djath, there she heard his voice, there she received the message that he bade her bring to his children, his children of Bulungan. Here is the message, chiefs of my people, listen and obey." Every Dyak groveled on the ground and even the Malay Mahometans crooked their knees and bowed their heads almost to the earth. Swaying from side to side, Koyala began to croon: "Hear my words, O princes of Bulungan, hear my words I send you by the Bintang Burung. Lo, a white man has come among you, and his face is fair and his words are good and his heart feels what his lips speak. Lo, I have placed him among you to see if in truth there is goodness and honesty in the heart of a white man. If his deeds be as good as his words, then will you keep him, and guard him, and honor him, but if his heart turns false and his lips speak deceitfully, then bring him to me that he may burn in the eternal fires that dwell with me. Lo, that ye may know him, I have given him a servant whose head I have touched with fire from the smoking mountain." At that moment Paddy, hatless and disheveled, plunged through the crowd toward Peter Gross. A ray of sunlight coming through the roof fell on his head. His auburn hair gleamed like a burst of flame. Koyala pointed at him and cried dramatically: "See, the servant with the sacred flame." "The sacred flame," Dyaks and Malays both muttered awesomely, as they crowded back from the platform. "Who shall be the first to make blood-brother of this white man?" Koyala cried. The hill Dyak chieftain who had counseled peace came forward. "Jahi of the Jahi Dyaks will," he said. Peter Gross looked at him keenly, for Jahi was reputed to be the boldest raider and head-hunter in the hills. The Dyak chief opened a vein in his arm with a dagger and gave the weapon to Peter Gross. Without hesitating, the resident did the same with his arm. The blood intermingled a moment, then they rubbed noses and each repeated the word: "Blood-brother," three times. One by one Dyaks and Malays came forward and went through the same ceremony. A few slipped out the door without making the brotherhood covenant, Peter Gross noticed. He was too elated to pay serious attention to these; the battle was already won, he believed. In the shadows in the rear of the hall Van Slyck whispered in the ear of a Malay chieftain. The Malay strode forward after the ceremonies were over, and said gravely: "Blood-brother, we have made you one of us and our ruler, as the great god Djath hath commanded. But there was one condition in the god's commands. If you fail, you are to be delivered to Djath for judgment, and no evil shall come upon our people from your people for that sentence. Will you pledge us this?" They were all looking at him, Malay, hill Dyak, and sea Dyak, and every eye said: "Pledge!" Peter Gross realized that if he would keep their confidence he must give his promise. But a glance toward Van Slyck had revealed to him the Malay's source of inspiration, and he sensed the trick that lay beneath the demand. "Will you pledge, brother?" the Malay demanded again. "I pledge," Peter Gross replied firmly. CHAPTER XVII THE POISONED ARROW "And so," Peter Gross concluded, "I pledged my life that we'd put things to rights in Bulungan." Captain Carver did not answer. It was dim twilight of the evening following the council meeting--they were met in Peter Gross's den, and the captain had listened with an air of critical attention to the nocturnal chirping of the crickets outside. Had it not been for occasional curt, illuminative questions, Peter Gross might have thought him asleep. He was a man of silences, this Captain Carver, a man after Peter Gross's own heart. "On the other hand they pledged that they would help me," Peter Gross resumed. "There are to be no more raids, the head-hunters will be delivered to justice, and there will be no more trading with the pirates or payment of tribute to them. Man for man, chief for chief, they pledged. I don't trust all of them. I know Wobanguli will violate his oath, for he is a treacherous scoundrel, treacherous and cunning but lacking in courage, or his nerve wouldn't have failed him yesterday. The Datu of Bandar is a bad man. I hardly expected him to take the oath, and it won't take much to persuade him to violate it. The Datu of Padang, the old man who lost the forty buffaloes, is a venomous old rascal that we'll have to watch. Lkath of the Sadong Dyaks left while we were administering the oath; there is no blood of fealty on his forehead. But I trust the hill Dyaks, they are with me. And we have Koyala." Another silence fell between the resident and his lieutenant. It was quite dark now and the ends of their cigars glowed ruddily. There was a tap on the door and Paddy Rouse announced himself. "Shall I get a light, sir?" he asked. "I don't think it is necessary, Paddy," Peter Gross replied kindly. He had conceived a great affection for the lad. He turned toward Carver. "What do you think of the situation?" he asked pointedly. Carver laid his cigar aside. It was not casually done, but with the deliberateness of the man who feels he has an unpleasant duty before him. "I was trying to decide whether Koyala is an asset or a liability," he replied. Peter Gross, too, listened for a moment to the chirping of the crickets before he answered. "She saved my life," he said simply. "She did," Captain Carver acknowledged. "I'm wondering why." Peter Gross stared into the evening silence. "I believe you misjudge her, captain," he remonstrated gently. "She hasn't had much chance in life. She's had every reason for hating us--all whites--but she has the welfare of her people at heart. She's a patriot. It's the one passion of her life, the one outlet for her starved and stunted affections. Her Dyak blood leads her to extremes. We've got to curb her savage nature as far as we can, and if she does break the bounds occasionally, overlook it. But I don't question her absolute sincerity. That is why I trust her." "If she were all Dyak I might think as you do," Captain Carver said slowly. "But I never knew mixed blood to produce anything noble. It's the mixture of bloods in her I'm afraid of. I've seen it in the Philippines and among the Indians. It's never any good." "There have been some notable half-breed patriots," Peter Gross remarked with a half-smile that the darkness curtained. "Dig into their lives and you'll find that what an infatuated people dubbed patriotism was just damned meanness. Never a one of them, but was after loot, not country." "You have old Sachsen's prejudices," Peter Gross said. "Did I tell you about the letter I got from him? I'll let you read it later, it's a shame to spoil this evening. Sachsen warns me not to trust the girl, says she's a fiend. He coupled her name with Ah Sing's." The vicious snap of the resident's teeth was distinctly audible. God, how an old man's tongue clacks to scandal. "I thought Sachsen was above it, but 'Rumor sits on the housetop,' as Virgil says...." His voice trailed into silence and he stared across the fields toward the jungle-crowned hills silhouetted against the brilliantly starlit sky. "Sachsen is too old a man to be caught napping," Carver observed. "There probably is some sort of an understanding between Koyala and Ah Sing," Peter Gross admitted seriously. "But it's nothing personal. She thought he could help her free Bulungan. I think I've made her see the better way--at least induced her to give us a chance to show what we can do." "You're sure it was Ah Sing's voice you heard?" Peter Gross perceived from the sharp acerbity of the captain's tone, as well as from the new direction he gave their conversation, Carver's lack of sympathy with his views on Koyala's conduct. He sighed and replied mildly: "I am positive. There is no other bass in the world like his. Hoarse and deep, a sea-lion growl. If I could have forced the bamboo aside sooner, I might have seen him before he dodged out of the runway." "If he's here we've got the whole damn' wasp's nest around our ears," Carver growled. "I wish we had the _Prins_ here." "That would make things easier. But we can't tie her up in harbor, that would give the pirates free play. She's our whole navy, with nearly eight hundred miles of coastline to patrol." "And we're here with twenty-five men," Carver said bitterly. "It would be damned farcical if it wasn't so serious." "We are not here to use a mailed fist," Peter Gross remonstrated mildly. "I understand. All the same--" Carver stopped abruptly and stared into the silence. Peter Gross made no comment. Their views were irreconcilable, he saw. It was inevitable that Carver should undervalue moral suasion; a military man, he recognized only the arbitrament of brute force. The captain was speaking again. "When do you begin the census?" "Next Monday. I shall see Muller to-morrow. It will take at least two months, possibly three; they're very easy-going here. I'd like to finish it before harvest, so as to be able to check up the tax." "You're going to trust it to Muller?" The question implied doubt of his judgment. Peter Gross perceived Carver was averse to letting either Muller or Van Slyck participate in the new administration outside their regular duties. "I think it is best," the resident replied quietly. "I don't want him condemned on his past record, regardless of the evidence we may get against him. He shall have his chance--if he proves disloyal he will convict himself." "How about Van Slyck?" "He shall have his chance, too." "You can't give the other man all the cards and win." "We'll deal fairly. The odds aren't quite so big as you think--we'll have Koyala and the hill Dyaks with us." "H'mm. Jahi comes to-morrow afternoon, you say?" "Yes. I shall appoint him Rajah over all the hill people." Carver picked up his cigar and puffed in silence for several moments. "If you could only trust the brutes," he exploded suddenly. "Damn it, Mr. Gross, I wish I had your confidence, but I haven't. I can't help remember some of the things that happened back in Luzon a few years ago--and the Tagalogs aren't far distant relatives of these cusses. 'Civilize 'em with a Krag,' the infantry used to sing. It's damn' near the truth." "In the heart of every man there's something that responds to simple justice and fair dealing--What's that?" A soft thud on the wall behind them provoked the exclamation. Carver sprang to his feet, tore the cigar from Peter Gross's mouth, and hurled it at the fireplace with his own. Almost simultaneously he snapped the heavy blinds together. The next moment a soft tap sounded on the shutters. Peter Gross lit a match and stepped to the wall. A tiny arrow, tipped with a jade point, and tufted with feathers, quivered in the plaster. Carver pulled it out and looked at the discolored point critically. "Poisoned!" he exclaimed. He gave it to the resident, remarking ironically: "With the compliments of the Argus Pheasant, Mr. Gross." CHAPTER XVIII A SUMMONS TO SADONG With pen poised, Peter Gross sat at his desk in the residency building and stared thoughtfully at the blank sheets of stationery before him. He was preparing a letter to Captain Rouse, to assure that worthy that all was going well, that Paddy was in the best of health and proving his value in no uncertain way, and to give a pen picture of the situation. He began: DEAR CAPTAIN: Doubtless you have heard from Paddy before this, but I want to add my assurance to his that he is in the best of health and is heartily enjoying himself. He has already proven his value to me, and I am thanking my lucky stars that you let me have him. We have been in Bulungan for nearly a month, and so far all is well. The work is going on, slowly, to be sure, but successfully, I hope. I can already see what I think are the first fruits of my policies. The natives are not very cordial as yet, but I have made some valuable friends among them. The decisions I have been called upon to make seem to have given general satisfaction, in most instances. I have twice been obliged to set aside the judgments of _controlleurs_, whose rulings appeared unjust to me, and in both cases my decision was in favor of the poorer litigant. This has displeased some of the _orang kayas_, or rich men, of the villages, but it has strengthened me with the tribesmen, I believe. He described the council and the result, and continued: I am now having a census taken of each district in the residency. I have made the _controlleur_ in each district responsible for the accuracy of the census in his territory, and have made Mynheer Muller, the acting-resident prior to my coming, chief of the census bureau. He opposed the count at first, but has come round to my way of thinking, and is prosecuting the work diligently. The chief difficulty is the natives--some one has been stirring them up--but I have high hopes of knowing, before the next harvest, how many people there are in each village and what proportion of the tax each chief should be required to bring. The taxation system has been one of the worst evils in Bulungan in the past; the poor have been oppressed, and all the tax-gatherers have enriched themselves, but I expect to end this.... I had a peculiar request made of me the other day. Captain Van Slyck asked that Captain Carver and his company be quartered away from Bulungan. The presence of Carver's irregulars was provoking jealousies among his troops, he said, and was making it difficult to maintain discipline. There is reason in his request, yet I hesitate to grant it. Captain Van Slyck has not been very friendly toward me, and a mutiny in the garrison would greatly discredit my administration. I have not yet given him my answer.... Inchi tells me there is a persistent rumor in the town that the great Datu, the chief of all the pirates, is in Bulungan. I would have believed his story the day after the council, for I thought I recognized his voice there; but I must have been mistaken. Captain Enckel, of the _Prins Lodewyk_, who was here a week ago, brings me positive assurance that the man is at Batavia. He saw him there himself, he says. It cannot be that my enemy has a double; nature never cast two men in that mold in one generation. Since Inchi cannot produce any one who will swear positively that he has seen the Datu, I am satisfied that the report is unfounded. Maybe you can find out something. As Peter Gross was affixing the required stamp, the door opened and Paddy Rouse entered. "The baby doll is here and wants to see you," Paddy announced. "Who?" Peter Gross asked, mystified. "The yellow kid; old man Muller's chocolate darling," Paddy elucidated. Peter Gross looked at him in stern reproof. "Let the Juffrouw Koyala be the Juffrouw Koyala to you hereafter," he commanded harshly. "Yes, sir." Paddy erased the grin from his lips but not from his eyes. "Shall I ask the lady to come in?" "You may request her to enter," Peter Gross said. "And, Paddy--" "Yes, sir." "--leave the door open." "Yes, sir." The red head bobbed to hide another grin. Koyala glided in softly as a kitten. She was dressed as usual in the Malay-Javanese costume of kabaya and sarong. Peter Gross could not help noticing the almost mannish length of her stride and the haughty, arrogant tilt of her head. "Unconquerable as the sea," he mused. "And apt to be as tempestuous. She's well named--the Argus Pheasant." He placed a chair for her. This time she did not hesitate to accept it. As she seated herself she crossed her ankles in girlish unconsciousness. Peter Gross could not help noticing how slim and perfectly shaped those ankles were, and how delicately her exquisitely formed feet tapered in the soft, doe-skin sandals. "Well, _juffrouw_, which of my _controlleurs_ is in mischief now?" he asked in mock resignation. Koyala flashed him a quick smile, a swift, dangerous, alluring smile. "Am I always complaining, _mynheer_?" she asked. Peter Gross leaned back comfortably. He was smiling, too, a smile of masculine contentment. "No, not always, _juffrouw_," he conceded. "But you kept me pretty busy at first." "It was necessary, _mynheer_." Peter Gross nodded assent. "To be sure, _juffrouw_, you did have reason to complain," he agreed gravely. "Things were pretty bad, even worse than I had expected to find them. But we are gradually improving conditions. I believe that my officers now know what is expected of them." He glanced at her reprovingly. "You haven't been here much this week; this is only the second time." A mysterious light flashed in Koyala's eyes, but Peter Gross was too intent on admiring her splendid physical sufficiency to notice it. "You are very busy, Mynheer Resident," Koyala purred. "I take too much of your time as it is with my trifling complaints." "Not at all, not at all," Peter Gross negatived vigorously. "The more you come, the better I am pleased." Koyala flashed a swift glance at him. "Come every day if you can. You are my interpreter, the only voice by which I can speak to the people of Bulungan and be heard. I want you to know what we are doing and why we are doing it; there is nothing secret here that you should not know." He leaned forward earnestly. "We must work out the salvation of Bulungan together, _juffrouw_. I am relying very much upon you. I cannot do it alone; your people will not believe in me. Unless you speak for me there will be misunderstandings, maybe bloodshed." Koyala's eyes lowered before his beseeching gaze and the earnestness of his plea. "You are very kind, _mynheer_," she said softly. "But you overestimate my powers. I am only a woman--it is the Rajahs who rule." "One word from Koyala has more force in Bulungan than the mandate of the great council itself," Peter Gross contradicted. "If you are with me, if you speak for me, the people are mine, and all the Rajahs, Gustis, and Datus in the residency could not do me harm." He smiled frankly. "I want to be honest with you, _juffrouw_. I am thoroughly selfish in asking these things. I want to be known as the man who redeemed Bulungan, even though the real work is yours." Koyala's face was hidden. Peter Gross saw that her lips pressed together tightly and that she was undergoing some powerful emotion. He looked at her anxiously, fearful that he had spoken too early, that she was not yet ready to commit herself utterly to his cause. "I came to see you, _mynheer_, about an affair that happened in the country of the Sadong Dyaks," Koyala announced quietly. Peter Gross drew back. Koyala's reply showed that she was not yet ready to join him, he perceived. Swallowing his disappointment, he asked in mock dismay: "Another complaint, _juffrouw_?" "One of Lkath's own people, a Sadong Dyak, was killed by a poisoned arrow," Koyala stated. "The arrow is tufted with heron's feathers; Jahi's people use those on their arrows. Lkath has heard that the head of his tribesman now hangs in front of Jahi's hut." The smile that had been on Peter Gross's lips died instantly. His face became drawn and hard. "I cannot believe it!" he exclaimed at length in a low voice. "Jahi has sworn brotherhood with me and sworn to keep the peace. We rubbed noses and anointed each others' foreheads with the blood of a fresh-killed buffalo." "If you choose the hill people for your brothers, the sea people will not accept you," Koyala said coldly. "I choose no nation and have no favorites," Peter Gross replied sternly. "I have only one desire--to deal absolute and impartial justice to all. Let me think." He bowed his head in his hands and closed his eyes in thought. Koyala watched him like a tigress in the bush. "Who found the body of the slain man?" he asked suddenly, looking up again. "Lkath himself, and some of his people," Koyala replied. "Do the Sadong Dyaks use the sumpitan?" "The Dyaks of the sea do not fight their enemies with poison," Koyala said scornfully. "Only the hill Dyaks do that." "H-m! Where was the body? How far from the stream?" "It was by a water-hole." "How far from Lkath's village?" "About five hours' journey. The man was hunting." "Was he alone? Were there any of Lkath's people with him?" "One. His next younger brother. They became separated in the baba, and he returned home alone. It was he who found the body, he and Lkath." "Ah!" Peter Gross exclaimed involuntarily. "Then, according to Dyak custom, he will have to marry his brother's wife. Are there any children?" "One," Koyala answered. "They were married a few moons over a year ago." Pensively she added, in a woman's afterthought: "The woman grieves for her husband and cannot be consoled. She is very beautiful, the most beautiful woman of her village." "I believe that I will go to Sadong myself," Peter Gross said suddenly. "This case needs investigating." "It is all I ask," Koyala said. Her voice had the soft, purring quality in it again, and she lowered her head in the mute Malay obeisance. The action hid the tiny flicker of triumph in her eyes. "I will go to-morrow," Peter Gross said. "I can get a proa at Bulungan." "You will take your people with you?" "No, I will go alone." It seemed to Peter Gross that Koyala's face showed a trace of disappointment. "You should not do that," she reproved. "Lkath is not friendly to you. He will not welcome a blood-warrior of Jahi since this has happened." "In a matter like this, one or two is always better than a company," Peter Gross dissented. "Yet I wish you could be there. I cannot offer you a place in my proa--there will be no room for a woman--but if you can find any other means of conveyance, the state will pay." He looked at her wistfully. Koyala laughed. "The Argus Pheasant will fly to Sadong faster than your proa," she said. She rose. As her glance roved over the desk she caught sight of the letter Peter Gross had just finished writing. "Oh, you have been writing to your sweetheart," she exclaimed. Chaffingly as the words were spoken, Peter Gross felt a little of the burning curiosity that lay back of them. "It is a letter to a sea-captain at Batavia whom I once served under," he replied quietly. "I told him about my work in Bulungan. Would you care to read it?" He offered her the envelope. Quivering with an eagerness she could not restrain, Koyala half reached for it, then jerked back her hand. Her face flamed scarlet and she leaped back as though the paper was death to touch. With a choking cry she exclaimed: "I do not want to read your letters. I will see you in Sadong--" She bolted through the door. Peter Gross stared in undisguised bewilderment after her. It was several minutes before he recovered and placed the letter back in the mailing receptacle. "I never will be able to understand women," he said sadly, shaking his head. CHAPTER XIX KOYALA'S ULTIMATUM The house of Lkath, chief of the Sadong Dyaks, stood on a rocky eminence at the head of Sabu bay. The bay is a narrow arm of the Celebes Sea, whose entrance is cunningly concealed by a series of projecting headlands and jealously guarded by a triple row of saw-tooth rocks whose serrated edges, pointed seaward, threaten mischief to any ship that dares attempt the channel. Huge breakers, urged on by the southeast monsoon, boil over these rocks from one year's end to the next. The headlands drip with the unceasing spray, and at their feet are twin whirlpools that go down to the very bowels of the earth, according to tradition, and wash the feet of Sangjang, ruler of Hades, himself. Certain it is that nothing ever cast into the whirlpools has returned; certain it is, too, say the people of Bulungan, that the Sang-sangs, good spirits, have never brought back any word of the souls of men lost in the foaming waters. In their rocky citadel and rock-guarded harbor the Sadong people have for years laughed at their enemies, and combed the seas, taking by force when they could, and taking in trade when those they dealt with were too strong for them. None have such swift proas as they, and none can follow them into their lair, for only the Sadong pilots know the intricacies of that channel. Vengeful captains who had permitted their eagerness to outrun discretion found their ships in the maelstrom and rent by the rocks before they realized it, while the Sadongers in the still, landlocked waters beyond, mocked them as they sank to their death. Two days after Koyala had reported the murder of the Sadonger to Peter Gross a swift proa approached the harbor. Even an uncritical observer would have noticed something peculiar in its movements, for it cut the water with the speed of a launch, although its bamboo sails were furled on the maze of yards that cluttered the triangle mast. As it neared the channel its speed was reduced, and the chug-chug of a powerful gasoline motor became distinctly audible. The sentinel on the promontory gesticulated wildly to the sentinels farther inland, for he had distinguished his chief, Lkath, at the wheel. Under Lkath's trained hand the proa skipped through the intricate channel without scraping a rock and shot the length of the harbor. With shouts of "_salaamat_" (welcome) the happy Sadongers trooped to the water-front to greet their chief. Lkath's own body-guard, fifty men dressed in purple, red, and green chawats and head-dresses and carrying beribboned spears, trotted down from the citadel and cleared a space for the voyagers to disembark from the sampans that had put out for them. As the royal sampan grounded, Lkath, with a great show of ceremony, assisted out of the craft a short, heavy-jowled Chinaman with a face like a Hindoo Buddha's. A low whisper of awe ran through, the crowd--this was the great Datu himself. The multitude sank to its knees, and each man vigorously pounded his head on the ground. The next passenger to leave the sampan was the Rajah Wobanguli, tall, a trifle stoop-shouldered, and leering craftily at the motley throng, the cluster of houses, and the fortifications. A step behind him Captain Van Slyck, dapper and politely disdainful as always, sauntered along the beach and took his place in one of the dos-à-dos that had hastened forward at a signal from Lkath. The vehicles rumbled up the hill. When they neared the temple that stood close to Lkath's house at the very summit of the hill an old man, dressed in long robes, stepped into the center of the band and lifted his hand. The procession halted. "What is it, voice of Djath?" Lkath asked respectfully. "The _bilian_ is here and awaits your presence," the priest announced. Lkath stifled an exclamation of surprise. "Koyala is here," he said to his guests. Ah Sing's face was expressionless. Wobanguli, the crafty, smiled non-committally. Van Slyck alone echoed Lkath's astonishment. "A hundred miles over jungle trails in less than two days," he remarked, with a low whistle. "How the devil did she do it?" There was no doubting the priest's words, however, for as they entered the temple Koyala herself came to meet them. "Come this way," she said authoritatively, and led them into a side-chamber reserved for the priests. The room was imperfectly lit by a single window in the thick rock walls. A heavy, oiled Chinese paper served as a substitute for glass. "He will be here to-morrow," she announced. "What are you going to do with him?" There was no need for her to mention a name, all knew whom she referred to. A silence came upon them. Van Slyck, Wobanguli, and Lkath, with the instinct of lesser men who know their master, looked at Ah Sing. The Chinaman's eyes slumbered between his heavy lids. "What are you going to do with him, Datu?" Koyala demanded, addressing Ah Sing directly. "The Princess Koyala is our ally and friend," he replied gutturally. "Your ally waits to hear the decision of the council," Koyala retorted coldly. Wobanguli interposed. "There are things, _bilian_, that are not fitting for the ear of a woman," he murmured suavely, with a sidelong glance at Ah Sing. "I am a warrior, Rajah, as well as a woman, with the same rights in the council that you have," Koyala reminded. Wobanguli smiled his pleasantest. "True, my daughter," he agreed diplomatically. "But he is not yet ours. When we have snared the bird it is time enough to talk of how it shall be cooked." "You told me at Bulungan that this would be decided on shipboard," Koyala replied sharply. A tempest began to kindle in her face. "Am I to be used as a decoy and denied a voice on what shall be done with my prisoner?" "We haven't decided--" Van Slyck began. "That is false!" Van Slyck reddened with anger and raised his hand as though to strike her. Koyala's face was a dusky gray in its pallor and her eyes blazed with contempt. "Peace!" Ah Sing rumbled sternly. "He is my prisoner. I marked him for mine before he was named resident." "You are mistaken, Datu," Koyala said significantly. "He is my prisoner. He comes here upon my invitation. He comes here under my protection. He is my guest and no hostile hand shall touch him while he is here." Ah Sing's brow ridged with anger. He was not accustomed to being crossed. "He is mine, I tell you, woman," he snarled. "His name is written in my book, and his nails shall rest in my cabinet." The Dyak blood mounted to Koyala's face. "He is not yours; he is mine!" she cried. "He was mine long before you marked him yours, Datu." Wobanguli hastened to avoid a rupture. "If it is a question of who claimed him first, we can lay it before the council," he suggested. "The council has nothing to do with it," Koyala retorted. There was a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "I marked him as mine more than a year ago, when he was still a humble sailor with no thought of becoming resident. His ship came to the mouth of the Abbas River, to Wolang's village, and traded for rattan with Wolang. I saw him then, and swore that one day he would be mine." "You desire him?" Ah Sing bellowed. The great purple veins stood out on his forehead, and his features were distorted with malignancy. Koyala threw back her head haughtily. "If I do, who is going to deny me?" Ah Sing choked in inarticulate fury. His face was black with rage. "I will, woman!" he bawled. "You are mine--Ah Sing's--" He leaped toward her and buried his long fingers, with their sharp nails, in the soft flesh of her arm. Koyala winced with pain; then outraged virginity flooded to her face in a crimson tide. Tearing herself away, she struck him a stinging blow in the face. He staggered back. Van Slyck leaped toward her, but she was quicker than he and backed against the wall. Her hand darted inside her kabaya and she drew a small, silver-handled dagger. Van Slyck stopped in his tracks. Ah Sing recovered himself and slowly smoothed his rumpled garments. He did not even look at Koyala. "Let us go," he said thickly. Koyala sprang to the door. She was panting heavily. "You shall not go until you pledge me that he is mine!" she cried. Ah Sing looked at her unblinkingly. The deadly malignancy of his face caused even Van Slyck to shiver. "You may have your lover, woman," he said in a low voice. Koyala stared at him as though turned to stone. Suddenly her cheeks, her forehead, her throat even, blazed scarlet. She flung her weapon aside; it clattered harmlessly on the bamboo matting. Tears started in her eyes. Burying her face in her arms, she sobbed unrestrainedly. They stared at her in astonishment. After a sidelong glance at Ah Sing, Wobanguli placed a caressing hand on her arm. "_Bilian_, my daughter--" he began. Koyala flung his arm aside and lifted her tear-stained face with a passionate gesture. "Is this my reward?" she cried. "Is this the return I get for all I have done to drive the _orang blanda_ out of Bulungan? My lover? When no lips of man have ever touched mine, shall ever touch mine--" She stamped her foot in fury. "Fools! Fools! Can't you see why I want him? He laughed at me--there by the Abbas River--laughed at my disgrace--yea, I know he was laughing, though he hid his smile with the cunning of the _orang blanda_. I swore then that he would be mine--that some day he should kneel before me, and beg for these arms around his, and my kiss on his lips. Then I would sink a dagger into his heart as I bent to kiss him--let him drink the deep sleep that has no ending outside of Sangjang." Her fingers clenched spasmodically, as though she already felt the hilt of the fatal blade between them. Van Slyck drew a deep breath. The depth of her savage, elemental passion dazed him. She looked from man to man, and as he felt her eyes upon him he involuntarily stepped back a pace, shuddering. The doubt he had of her a few moments before vanished; he did not question but what he had glimpsed into her naked soul. Lkath and Wobanguli were convinced, too, for fear and awe of this wonderful woman were expressed on their faces. Ah Sing alone scanned her face distrustfully. "Why should I trust you?" he snarled. Koyala started, then shrugged her shoulders indifferently and flung the door open for them to pass out. As Ah Sing passed her he halted a moment and said significantly: "I give you his life to-day. But remember, Bintang Burung, there is one more powerful than all the princes of Bulungan." "The god Djath is greater than all princes and Datus," Koyala replied quietly. "I am his priestess. Answer, Lkath, whose voice is heard before yours in Sadong?" Lkath bowed low, almost to the ground. "Djath rules us all," he acknowledged. "You see," Koyala said to Ah Sing, "even your life is mine." Something like fear came into the eyes of the Chinaman for the first time. "I go back to Bulungan," he announced thickly. CHAPTER XX LKATH'S CONVERSION The afternoon sun was waning when Peter Gross's sailing proa arrived at Sadong. The resident had been fortunate in finding a Sadonger at Bulungan, and a liberal promise of brass bracelets and a bolt of cloth persuaded the rover to pilot them into Sadong harbor. Paddy Rouse accompanied his chief. A vociferous crowd of Dyaks hastened to the beach under the misapprehension that the proa was a trader. When shouts from the crew apprised them that the _orang blanda_ chief was aboard, their cries of welcome died away. Glances of curious and friendly interest changed to glances of hostility, and men on the edges of the crowd slunk away to carry the news through the village. The inhospitable reception depressed Peter Gross, but he resolutely stepped into one of the sampans that had put off from shore at the proa's arrival and was paddled to the beach. "We must be awfully popular here," Paddy remarked cheerfully, and he looked unabashed into the scowling faces of the natives. He lifted his hat. Rays from the low-hanging sun shone through his ruddy, tousled hair, making it gleam like living flame. A murmur of surprise ran through the crowd. Several Dyaks dropped to their knees. "They're beginning to find their prayer-bones, Mr. Gross," Paddy pointed out, blissfully unconscious that it was he who had inspired their reverence. At that moment Peter Gross saw a familiar girlish figure stride lightly down the lane. His face brightened. "Good-afternoon, _juffrouw_!" he exclaimed delightedly as she approached. "How did you get here so soon?" He offered his hand, and after a moment's hesitation Koyala permitted his friendly clasp to encircle the tips of her fingers. "Lkath has a house ready for you," she said. "The dos-à-dos will be here in a moment." They chatted while the natives gaped until the jiggly, two-wheeled carts clattered toward them. Lkath received them at the door of his house. Peter Gross needed only a glance into his face to see that Koyala had not been mistaken in her warning. Lkath entertained no friendly feeling toward him. "Welcome to the falcon's nest," Lkath said. The words were spoken with a stately courtesy in which no cordiality mingled. Dyak tradition forbade closing a door to a guest, however unwelcome the guest might be. Seized with a sudden admiration of his host, who could swallow his prejudices to maintain the traditional hospitality of his race, Peter Gross resolved to win his friendship at all costs. It was his newborn admiration that inspired him to reply: "Your house is well named, Gusti. None but eagles would dare roost above the gate to Sangjang." Lkath's stern features relaxed with a gratified smile, showing that the compliment had pleased him. There was more warmth in his voice as he said: "My poor house and all that is in it is yours, Mynheer Resident." "There is no door in Borneo more open than Lkath's," Peter responded. "I am happy to be here with you, brother." The words were the signal, according to Dyak custom, for Lkath to step forward and rub noses. But the chief drew back. "The blood of one of my people is between us, Mynheer Resident," he said bluntly. "There can be no talk of brother until the Sadong Dyaks are avenged." "Am I not here to do justice?" Peter Gross asked. "To-morrow, when the sun is an hour high, we will have a council. Bring your people who know of this thing before me at that time." Lkath bowed and said: "Very good, Mynheer Resident." Having performed his duty as head of his nation, Lkath the chief became Lkath the host, and ushered Peter Gross, Rouse, and Koyala into the house. Peter Gross was surprised to find the dwelling fitted out with such European conveniences as chandelier oil-lamps, chairs, and tables, and even a reed organ. Boys dressed in white appeared with basins of water and napkins on silver salvers for ablutions. The dinner was all that an epicure could desire. Madeira and bitters were first offered, together with a well-spiced vegetable soup. Several dishes of fowls and other edible birds, cooked in various ways, followed. Then a roast pig, emitting a most savory odor, was brought in, a fricassée of bats, rice, potatoes, and other vegetables, stewed durian, and, lastly, various native fruits and nuts. Gin, punch, and a native beer were served between courses. Lkath's formal dignity mellowed under the influence of food and wine, and he became more loquacious. By indirect reference Peter Gross obtained, piece by piece, a coherent account of the hunting trip on which the Sadonger had lost his life. It confirmed his suspicion that the brother knew far more about the murder than he had admitted, but he kept his own counsel. The next morning the elders assembled in the _balais_, or assembly-hall. Peter Gross listened to the testimony offered. He said little, and the only man he questioned was the Sadonger's brother, Lkath's chief witness. "How did they know it was Jahi who was responsible?" he asked the Sadongers who had accompanied Lkath on the search. "They broke into voluble protestations. Did they use the sumpitan? Was it not exclusively a weapon of the hill Dyaks? Did not the feathers on the arrow show that it came from Jahi's tribe? And did they not find a strip of red calico from a hillman's chawat in the bush?" Peter Gross did not answer their questions. "Show me where the body was found," he directed. Paddy Rouse, usually bold to temerariousness, protested in dismay, pointing out the danger in venturing into the jungle with savages so avowedly unfriendly. "There is no middle course for those who venture into the lion's den," Peter Gross replied. "We will be in no greater danger in the jungle than here, and I may be able to solve the mystery and do our cause some good." "I'm with you wherever you go," Paddy said loyally. Lkath led the expedition in person. To Peter Gross's great relief, Koyala went also. The journey took nearly five hours, for the road was very rugged and there were many détours on account of swamps, fallen trees, and impenetrable thickets. Koyala rode next to Peter Gross all the way. He instinctively felt that she did so purposely to protect him from possible treachery. It increased his sense of obligation toward her. At the same time he realized keenly his own inability to make an adequate recompense. Old Sachsen's words, "If you can induce her to trust us, half your work is done," came to him with redoubled force. They talked of Bulungan, its sorry history, its possibilities for development. Koyala's eyes glowed with a strange light, and she spoke with an ardency that surprised the resident. "How she loves her country!" he thought. They were riding single file along a narrow jungle-path when Koyala's horse stumbled over a hidden creeper. She was not watching the path at the moment, and would have fallen had not Peter Gross spurred his animal alongside and caught her. Her upturned face looked into his as his arm circled about her and held her tightly. There was a furious rush of blood to her cheeks; then she swung back into the saddle lightly as a feather and spurred her horse ahead. A silence came between them, and when the path widened and he was able to ride beside her again, he saw that her eyes were red. "These roads are very dusty," he remarked, wiping a splinter of fine shale from his own eyes. When they reached the scene of the murder Peter Gross carefully studied the lay of the land. Lkath and the dead man's brother, upon request, showed him where the red calico was found, and how the body lay by the water-hole. Standing in the bush where the red calico strip had been discovered, Peter Gross looked across the seven or eight rods to the water-hole and shook his head. "There is some mistake," he said. "No man can blow an arrow that far." Lkath's face flashed with anger. "When I was a boy, Mynheer Resident, I learned to shoot the sumpitan," he said. "Let me show you how a Dyak can shoot." He took the sumpitan which they had taken with them at Peter Gross's request, placed an arrow in the orifice, distended his cheeks, and blew. The shaft went across the water-hole. "A wonderful shot!" Peter Gross exclaimed in pretended amazement. "There is none other can shoot like Lkath." Several Sadongers offered to show what they could do. None of the shafts went quite so far as their chief's. Taking the weapon from them, Peter Gross offered it to the dead Sadonger's brother. "Let us see how far you can shoot," he said pleasantly. The man shrank back. Peter Gross noticed his quick start of fear. "I cannot shoot," he protested. "Try," Peter Gross insisted firmly, forcing the sumpitan into his hand. The Sadonger lifted it to his lips with trembling hands, the weapon shaking so that careful aim was impossible. He closed his eyes, took a quick half-breath, and blew. The arrow went little more than half the distance to the water-hole. "You did not blow hard enough," Peter Gross said. "Try once more." But the Sadonger, shaking his head, retreated among his companions, and the resident did not press the point. He turned to Lkath. "It is time to start, if we are to be back in Sadong before _malam_" (night) "casts its mantle over the earth," he said. Well content with the showing he had made, Lkath agreed. They were passing the temple; it was an hour before sundown when Peter Gross said suddenly: "Let us speak with Djath on this matter." He singled out Koyala, Lkath, and the Sadonger's brother, inviting them to enter the temple with him. A dusky pallor came over the Sadonger's face, but he followed the others into the enclosure. "The great god Djath is not my god," Peter Gross said, when they had entered the silent hall and stood between the rows of grinning idols. "Yet I have heard that he is a god who loves the truth and hates falsehood. It seems good to me, therefore, that the Bintang Burung call down Djath's curse on this slayer of one of your people. Then, when the curse falls, we may know without doubt who the guilty one is. Is it good, Lkath?" The chief, although plainly amazed at hearing such a suggestion from a white man, was impressed with the idea. "It is good," he assented heartily. Peter Gross looked at Koyala. She was staring at him with a puzzled frown, as if striving to fathom his purpose. "Invoke us a curse, O Bintang Burung, on the slayer," he asked. "Speak your bitterest curse. Give him to the Budjang Brani, to the eternal fires at the base of the Gunong Agong." Koyala's frown deepened, and she seemed on the point of refusal, when Lkath urged: "Call us down a curse, daughter of Djath, I beg you." Seeing there was no escape, Koyala sank to her knees and lifted her hands to the vault above. A vacant stare came into her eyes. Her lips began to move, first almost inaudibly; then Peter Gross distinguished the refrain of an uninterpretable formula of the Bulungan priesthood, a formula handed down to her by her grandfather, Chawatangi. Presently she began her curse in a mystic drone: "May his eyes be burned out with fire; may the serpents devour his limbs; may the vultures eat his flesh; may the wild pigs defile his bones; may his soul burn in the eternal fires of the Gunong Agong--" "Mercy, _bilian_, mercy!" Shrieking his plea, the dead Sadonger's brother staggered forward and groveled at Koyala's feet. "I will tell all!" he gasped. "I shot the arrow; I killed my brother; for the love of his woman I killed him--" He fell in a fit, foaming at the mouth. There was utter silence for a moment. Then Peter Gross said to the aged priest who kept the temple: "Call the guard, father, and have this carrion removed to the jail." At a nod from Lkath, the priest went. Neither Lkath nor Koyala broke the silence until they had returned to the former's house. Peter Gross, elated at the success of his mission, was puzzled and disappointed at the look he surprised on Koyala's face, a look of dissatisfaction at the turn of events. The moment she raised her eyes to meet his, however, her face brightened. When they were alone Lkath asked: "How did you know, O wise one?" His voice expressed an almost superstitious reverence. "The gods reveal many things to those they love," was Peter Gross's enigmatical reply. To Paddy Rouse, who asked the same question, he made quite a different reply. "It was really quite simple," he said. "The only man with a motive for the crime was the brother. He wanted the wife. His actions at the water-hole convinced me he was guilty; all that was necessary was a little claptrap and an appeal to native superstition to force him to confess. This looked bad for us at the start, but it has proven the most fortunate thing that could have happened. Lkath will be with us now." CHAPTER XXI CAPTURED BY PIRATES When they rose the next morning Peter Gross inquired for his host, but was met with evasive replies. A premonition that something had gone wrong came upon him. He asked for Koyala. "The Bintang Burung has flown to the jungle," one of the servant lads informed him after several of the older natives had shrugged their shoulders, professing ignorance. "When did she go?" he asked. "The stars were still shining, Datu, when she spread her wings," the lad replied. The feeling that something was wrong grew upon the resident. An hour passed, with no sign of Lkath. Attempting to leave the house, Peter Gross and Paddy were politely but firmly informed that they must await the summons to the _balais_, or assembly-hall, from the chieftain. "This is a rum go," Paddy grumbled. "I am very much afraid that something has happened to turn Lkath against us," Peter Gross remarked. "I wish Koyala had stayed." The summons to attend the _balais_ came a little later. When they entered the hall they saw a large crowd of natives assembled. Lkath was seated in the judge's seat. Peter Gross approached him to make the customary salutation, but Lkath rose and folded his hands over his chest. "Mynheer Resident," the chief said with dignity, "your mission in Sadong is accomplished. You have saved us from a needless war with the hill people. But I and the elders of my tribe have talked over this thing, and we have decided that it is best you should go. The Sadong Dyaks owe nothing to the _orang blanda_. They ask nothing of the _orang blanda_. You came in peace. Go in peace." A tumult of emotions rose in Peter Gross's breast. To see the fruits of his victory snatched from him in this way was unbearable. A wild desire to plead with Lkath, to force him to reason, came upon him, but he fought it down. It would only hurt his standing among the natives, he knew; he must command, not beg. "It shall be as you say, Lkath," he said. "Give me a pilot and let me go." "He awaits you on the beach," Lkath replied. With this curt dismissal, Peter Gross was forced to go. The failure of his mission weighed heavily upon Peter Gross, and he said little all that day. Paddy could see that his chief was wholly unable to account for Lkath's change of sentiment. Several times he heard the resident murmur: "If only Koyala had stayed." Shortly before sundown, while their proa was making slow headway against an unfavorable breeze Paddy noticed his chief standing on the raised afterdeck, watching another proa that had sailed out of a jungle-hid creek-mouth shortly before and was now following in their wake. He cocked an eye at the vessel himself and remarked: "Is that soap-dish faster than ours, or are we gaining?" "That is precisely what I am trying to decide," Peter Gross answered gravely. Paddy observed the note of concern in the resident's voice. "She isn't a pirate, is she?" he asked quickly. "I am very much afraid she is." Peter Gross spoke calmly, but Paddy noticed a tremor in his voice. "Then we'll have to fight for it?" he exclaimed. Peter Gross avoided a direct reply. "I'm wondering why she can stay so close inshore and outsail us," he said. "The wind is offshore, those high hills should cut her off from what little breeze we're getting, yet she neither gains nor loses an inch on us." "Why doesn't she come out where she can get the breeze?" "Ay, why doesn't she?" Peter Gross echoed. "If she were an honest trader she would. But keeping that course enables her to intercept us in case we should try to make shore." Paddy did not appear greatly disturbed at the prospect of a brush with pirates. In fact, there was something like a sparkle of anticipation in his eyes. But seeing his chief so concerned, he suggested soberly: "Can't we beat out to sea and lose them during the night?" "Not if this is the ship I fear it is," the resident answered gravely. "What ship?" The question was frankly curious. "Did you hear something like a muffled motor exhaust a little while ago?" Paddy looked up in surprise. "That's just what I thought it was, only I thought I must be crazy, imagining such a thing here." Peter Gross sighed. "I thought so," he said with gentle resignation. "It must be her." "Who? What?" There was no escaping the lad's eager curiosity. "The ghost proa. She's a pirate--Ah Sing's own ship, if reports be true. I've never seen her; few white men have; but there are stories enough about her, God knows. She's equipped with a big marine engine imported from New York, I've heard; and built like a launch, though she's got the trimmings of a proa. She can outrun any ship, steam or sail, this side of Hong Kong, and she's manned by a crew of fiends that never left a man, woman or child alive yet on any ship they've taken." Paddy's face whitened a little, and he looked earnestly at the ship. Presently he started and caught Peter Gross's arm. "There," he exclaimed. "The motor again! Did you hear it?" "Ay," Peter Gross replied. "We had gained a few hundred yards on them, and they've made it up." Paddy noted the furtive glances cast at them by the crew of their own proa, mostly Bugis and Bajaus, the sea-rovers and the sea-wash, with a slight sprinkling of Dyaks. He called Peter Gross's attention to it. "They know the proa," the resident said. "They'll neither fight nor run. The fight is ours, Paddy. You'd better get some rifles on deck." "We're going to fight?" Rouse asked eagerly. "Ay," Peter Gross answered soberly. "We'll fight to the end." He placed a hand on his protégé's shoulder. "I shouldn't have brought you here, my lad," he said. There was anguish in his voice. "I should have thought of this--" "I'll take my chances," Paddy interrupted gruffly, turning away. He dove into their tiny cubicle, a boxlike contrivance between decks, to secure rifles and cartridges. They carried revolvers. When he came up the sun was almost touching the rim of the horizon. The pursuing proa, he noticed had approached much nearer, almost within hailing distance. "They don't intend to lose us in the dark," he remarked cheerfully. "The moon rises early to-night," Peter Gross replied. A few minutes later, as the sun was beginning to make its thunderclap tropic descent, the _juragan_, or captain of the proa issued a sharp order. The crew leaped to the ropes and began hauling in sail. Peter Gross swung his rifle to his shoulder and covered the navigator. "Tell your crew to keep away from those sails," he said with deadly intentness. The _juragan_ hesitated a moment, glanced over his shoulder at the pursuing proa, and then reversed his orders. As the crew scrambled down they found themselves under Paddy's rifle. "Get below, every man of you," Peter Gross barked in the _lingua franca_ of the islands. "Repeat that order, _juragan_!" The latter did so sullenly, and the crew dropped hastily below, apparently well content at keeping out of the impending hostilities. These happenings were plainly visible from the deck of the pursuing proa. The sharp chug-chug of a motor suddenly sounded, and the disguised launch darted forward like a hawk swooping down on a chicken. Casting aside all pretense, her crew showed themselves above the rail. There were at least fifty of them, mostly Chinese and Malays, fierce, wicked-looking men, big and powerful, some of them nearly as large, physically, as the resident himself. They were armed with magazine rifles and revolvers and long-bladed krisses. A rapid-firer was mounted on the forward deck. Paddy turned to his chief with a whimsical smile. "Pretty big contract," he remarked with unimpaired cheerfulness. Peter Gross's face was white. He knew what Paddy did not know, the fiendish tortures the pirates inflicted on their hapless victims. He was debating whether it were more merciful to shoot the lad and then himself or to make a vain stand and take the chance of being rendered helpless by a wound. The launch was only a hundred yards away now--twenty yards. A cabin door on her aft deck opened and Peter Gross saw the face of Ah Sing, aglow in the dying rays of the sun with a fiendish malignancy and satisfaction. Lifting his rifle, he took quick aim. Four things happened almost simultaneously as his rifle cracked. One was Ah Sing staggering forward, another was a light footfall on the deck behind him and a terrific crash on his head that filled the western heavens from horizon to zenith with a blaze of glory, the third was the roaring of a revolver in his ear and Paddy's voice trailing into the dim distance: "I got you, damn you." When he awoke he found himself in a vile, evil-smelling hole, in utter darkness. He had a peculiar sensation in the pit of his stomach, and his lips and tongue were dry and brittle as cork. His head felt the size of a barrel. He groaned unconsciously. "Waking up, governor?" a cheerful voice asked. It was Paddy. By this time Peter Gross was aware, from the rolling motion, that they were at sea. After a confused moment he picked up the thread of memory where it had been broken off. "They got us, did they?" he asked. "They sure did," Paddy chirruped, as though it was quite a lark. "We haven't landed yet?" "We made one stop. Just a few hours, I guess, to get some grub aboard. I can't make out much of their lingo, but from what I've heard I believe we're headed for one of the coast towns where we can get a doctor. That shot of yours hit the old bird in the shoulder; he's scared half to death he's going to croak." "If he only does," Peter Gross prayed fervently under his breath. He asked Paddy: "How long have we been here?" "About fourteen hours, I'd say on a guess. We turned back a ways, made a stop, and then headed this way. I'm not much of a sailor, but I believe we've kept a straight course since. At least the roll of the launch hasn't changed any." "Fourteen hours," Peter Gross mused. "It might be toward Coti, or it might be the other way. Have they fed you?" "Not a blankety-blanked thing. Not even sea-water. I'm so dry I could swallow the Mississippi." Peter Gross made no comment. "Tell me what happened," he directed. Paddy, who was sitting cross-legged, tried to shuffle into a more comfortable position. In doing so he bumped his head against the top of their prison. "Ouch!" he exclaimed feelingly. "You're not hurt?" Peter Gross asked quickly. "A plug in the arm and a tunk on the head," Paddy acknowledged. "The one in my arm made me drop my rifle, but I got two of the snakes before they got me. Then I got three more with the gat before somebody landed me a lallapaloosa on the beano and I took the count. One of the steersmen--_jurumuddis_ you call 'em, don't you?--got you. We forgot about those chaps in the steersmen's box when we ordered the crew below. But I finished him. He's decorating a nice flat in a shark's belly by now." Peter Gross was silent. "Wonder why they didn't chuck us overboard," Paddy remarked after a time. "I thought that was the polite piratical stunt. Seeing they were so darned considerate, giving us this private apartment, they might rustle us some grub." "How shall I tell this light-hearted lad what is before us?" Peter Gross groaned in silent agony. A voluble chatter broke out overhead. Through the thin flooring they heard the sound of naked feet pattering toward the rail. A moment later the ship's course was altered and it began pitching heavily in the big rollers. Peter Gross sat bolt upright, listening intently. "What's stirring now?" Paddy asked. "Hist! I don't know," Peter Gross warned sharply. There was a harsh command to draw in sail, intelligible only to Peter Gross, for it was in the island patois. Paddy waited in breathless anticipation while Peter Gross, every muscle strained and tense, listened to the dissonancy above, creaking cordage, the flapping of bamboo sails, and the jargon of two-score excited men jabbering in their various tongues. There was a series of light explosions, and then a steady vibration shook the ship. It leaped ahead instantly in response to its powerful motor. It was hardly under way when they heard a whistling sound overhead. There was a moment's pause, then the dull boom of an explosion reached their ear. "We're under shell-fire!" Paddy gasped. "That must be the _Prins_," Peter Gross exclaimed. "I hope to Heaven Enckel doesn't know we're aboard." Another whistle of a passing shell and the thunder of an explosion. The two were almost simultaneous, the shell could not have fallen far from the launch's bow, both knew. "They may sink us!" Paddy cried in a half-breath. "Better drowning than torture." The curt reply was cut short by another shell. The explosion was more distant. "They're losing the range." Paddy exclaimed in a low voice. In a flash it came to him why Peter Gross had said: "I hope Enckel doesn't know we're here." Peter Gross stared, white, and silent into the blackness, waiting for the next shell. It was long in coming, and fell astern. A derisive shout rose from the pirates. "The _Prins_ is falling behind," Paddy cried despairingly. "Ay, the proa is too fast for her," the resident assented in a scarcely audible voice. Tears were coursing down his cheeks, tears for the lad that he had brought here to suffer unnameable tortures, for Peter Gross did not underestimate the fiendish ingenuity of Ah Sing and his crew. He felt grateful for the wall of darkness between them. "Well, there's more than one way to crawl out of a rain-barrel," Paddy observed with unimpaired cheerfulness. Peter Gross felt that he should speak and tell Rouse what they had to expect, but the words choked in his throat. Blissful ignorance and a natural buoyant optimism sustained the lad, it would be cruel to take them away, the resident thought. He groaned again. "Cheer up," Paddy cried, "we'll get another chance." The grotesqueness of the situation--his youthful protégé striving to raise his flagging spirits--came home to Peter Gross even in that moment of suffering and brought a rueful smile to his lips. "I'm afraid, my lad, that the _Prins_ was our last hope," he said. There was an almost fatherly sympathy in his voice, responsibility seemed to have added a decade to the slight disparity of years between them. "Rats!" Paddy grunted. "We're not going to turn in our checks just yet, governor. This bird's got to go ashore somewhere, and it'll be deuced funny if Cap Carver and the little lady don't figure out some way between 'em to get us out of this." CHAPTER XXII IN THE TEMPLE The hatch above them opened. A bestial Chinese face, grinning cruelly, appeared in it. "You b'g-um fellow gettee outtee here plenty damn' quick!" the Chinaman barked. He thrust a piece of bamboo into the hole and prodded the helpless captives below with a savage energy. The third thrust of the cane found Peter Gross's ribs. With a hoarse cry of anger Paddy sprang to his feet and shot his fist into the Chinaman's face before the resident could cry a warning. The blow caught the pirate between the eyes and hurled him back on the deck. He gazed at Paddy a dazed moment and then sprang to his feet. Lifting the cane in both his hands above his head, he uttered a shriek of fury and would have driven the weapon through Rouse's body had not a giant Bugi, standing near by, jumped forward and caught his arm. Wrestling with the maddened Chinaman, the Bugi shouted some words wholly unintelligible to Paddy in the pirate's ear. Peter Gross scrambled to his feet. "Jump on deck, my lad," he shouted. "Quick, let them see you. It may save us." Paddy obeyed. The morning sun, about four hours high, played through his rumpled hair, the auburn gleaming like flame. Malays, Dyaks, and Bugis, attracted by the noise of the struggle, crowded round and pointed at him, muttering superstitiously. "Act like a madman," Peter Gross whispered hoarsely to his aide. Paddy broke into a shriek of foolish laughter. He shook as though overcome with mirth, and folded his arms over his stomach as he rocked back and forth. Suddenly straightening, he yelled a shrill "Whoopee!" The next moment he executed a handspring into the midst of the natives, almost upsetting one of them. The circle widened. A Chinese mate tried to interfere, but the indignant islanders thrust him violently aside. He shouted to the _juragan_, who ran forward, waving a pistol. Every one of the crew was similarly armed, and every one wore a kris. They formed in a crescent between their officer and the captives. In a twinkling Peter Gross and Rouse found themselves encircled by a wall of steel. The _juragan's_ automatic dropped to a dead level with the eyes of the Bugi who had saved Paddy. He bellowed an angry command, but the Bugi closed his eyes and lowered his head resignedly, nodding in negation. The other islanders stood firm. The Chinese of the crew ranged themselves behind their captain and a bloody fight seemed imminent. A Dyak left the ranks and began talking volubly to the _juragan_, gesticulating wildly and pointing at Paddy Rouse and then at the sun. A crooning murmur of assent arose from the native portion of the crew. The _juragan_ retorted sharply. The Dyak broke into another volley of protestations. Paddy looked on with a glaringly stupid smile. The _juragan_ watched him suspiciously while the Dyak talked, but gradually his scowl faded. At last he gave a peremptory command and stalked away. The crew returned to their duties. "We're to be allowed to stay on deck as long as we behave ourselves until we near shore, or unless some trader passes us," Peter Gross said in a low voice to Rouse. Paddy blinked to show that he understood, and burst into shouts of foolish laughter, hopping around on all fours. The natives respectfully made room for him. He kept up these antics at intervals during the day, while Peter Gross, remaining in the shade of the cabin, watched the pirates. After prying into every part of the vessel with a childish curiosity that none of the crew sought to restrain, Paddy returned to his chief and reported in a low whisper: "The old bird isn't aboard, governor." "I rather suspected he wasn't," Peter Gross answered. "He must have been put ashore at the stop you spoke of." It was late that day when the proa, after running coastwise all day, turned a quarter circle into one of the numerous bays indenting the coast. Peter Gross recognized the familiar headlands crowning Bulungan Bay. Paddy also recognized them, for he cried: "They're bringing us back home." At that moment the tall Bugi who had been their sponsor approached them and made signs to indicate that they must return to the box between decks from which he had rescued them. He tried to show by signs and gestures his profound regret at the necessity of locking them up again, his anxiety to convince the "son of the Gunong Agong" was almost ludicrous. Realizing the futility of objecting, Peter Gross and Paddy permitted themselves to be locked in the place once more. It was quite dark and the stars were shining brightly when the hatch was lifted again. As they rose from their cramped positions and tried to make out the circle of faces about them, unceremonious hands yanked them to the deck, thrust foul-smelling cloths into their mouths, blindfolded them, and trussed their hands and feet with stout cords. They were lowered into a boat, and after a brief row were tossed on the beach like so many sacks of wool, placed in boxlike receptacles, and hurried inland. Two hours' steady jogging followed, in which they were thrown about until every inch of skin on their bodies was raw with bruises. They were then taken out of the boxes and the cloths and cords were removed. Looking about, Peter Gross and Paddy found themselves in the enclosed court of what was evidently the ruins of an ancient Hindoo temple. The massive columns, silvery in the bright moonlight, were covered with inscriptions and outline drawings, crudely made in hieroglyphic art. In the center of one wall was the chipped and weather-scarred pedestal of a Buddha. The idol itself, headless, lay broken in two on the floor beside it. Peter Gross's brow puckered--the very existence of such a temple two hours' journey distant from Bulungan Bay had been unknown to him. The _juragan_ and his Chinese left after giving sharp instructions to their jailers, two Chinese, to guard them well. Peter Gross and Paddy looked about in vain for a single friendly face or even the face of a brown-skinned man--every member of the party was Chinese. The jailers demonstrated their capacity by promptly thrusting their prisoners into a dark room off the main court. It was built of stone, like the rest of the temple. "Not much chance for digging out of here," Rouse observed, after examining the huge stones, literally mortised together, and the narrow window aperture with its iron gratings. Peter Gross also made as careful an examination of their prison as the darkness permitted. "We may as well make ourselves comfortable," was his only observation at the close of his investigation. They chatted a short time, and at last Paddy, worn out by his exertions, fell asleep. Peter Gross listened for a while to the lad's rhythmic breathing, then tip-toed to the gratings and pulled himself up to them. A cackle of derisive laughter arose outside. Realizing that the place was carefully watched, he dropped back to the floor and began pacing the chamber, his head lowered in thought. Presently he stopped beside Rouse and gazed into the lad's upturned face, blissfully serene in the innocent confidence of youth. Tears gathered in his eyes. "I shouldn't have brought him here; I shouldn't have brought him here," he muttered brokenly. The scraping of the ponderous bar that bolted the door interrupted his meditations shortly after daybreak. The door creaked rustily on its hinges, and an ugly, leering Chinese face peered inside. Satisfying himself that his prisoners were not planning mischief, the Chinaman thrust two bowls of soggy rice and a pannikin of water inside and gestured to Peter Gross that he must eat. The indignant protest of the door as it closed awoke Paddy, who sat bolt upright and blinked sleepily until he saw the food. "What? Time for breakfast?" he exclaimed with an amiable grin. "I must have overslept." He picked up a bowl of rice, stirred it critically with one of the chopsticks their jailers had provided, and snuffed at the mixture. He put it down with a wry face. "Whew!" he whistled. "It's stale." "You had better try to eat something," Peter Gross advised. "I'm that hungry I could eat toasted sole leather," Paddy confessed. "But this stuff smells to heaven." Peter Gross took the other bowl and began eating, wielding the chopsticks expertly. "It isn't half bad--I've had worse rations on board your uncle's ship," he encouraged. "Then my dear old avunculus ought to be hung," Paddy declared with conviction. Hunger and his superior's example finally overcame his scruples, however, and presently he was eating with gusto. "Faith," he exclaimed, "I've got more appetite than I imagined." Peter Gross did not answer. He was wondering whether the rice was poisoned, and half hoped it was. It would be an easier death than by torture, he thought. But he forebore mentioning this to Paddy. CHAPTER XXIII AH SING'S VENGEANCE Two days, whose monotony was varied only by occasional visits from one or another of their jailers, passed in this way. Peter Gross's faint hope that they might be able to escape by overpowering the Chinamen, while the latter brought them their meals, faded; the jailers had evidently been particularly cautioned against such an attempt and were on their guard. On the afternoon of the second day a commotion in the fore-court of the temple, distinctly audible through the gratings, raised their curiosity to fever heat. They listened intently and tried to distinguish voices and words in the hubbub, but were unsuccessful. It was apparent, however, that a large party had arrived. There were fully a hundred men in it, Peter Gross guessed, possibly twice that number. "What's this?" Paddy asked. Peter Gross's face was set in hard, firm lines, and there was an imperious note in his voice as he said: "Come here, Paddy. I have a few words to say to you." Paddy's face lost its familiar smile as he followed his chief to the corner of their prison farthest from the door. "I don't know what this means, but I rather suspect that Ah Sing has arrived," Peter Gross said. He strove to speak calmly, but his voice broke. "If that is the case, we will probably part. You will not see me again. You may escape, but it is doubtful. If you see the slightest chance to get away, take it. Being shot or krissed is a quicker death than by torture." In spite of his effort at self-control, Paddy's face blanched. "By torture?" he asked in a low voice of amazement. "That is what we may expect," Peter Gross declared curtly. Paddy breathed hard a moment. Then he laid an impulsive hand on his leader's arm. "Let's rush 'em the minute the door opens, Mr. Gross." Peter Gross shook his head in negation. "While there is life there is hope," he said, smiling. Paddy did not perceive that his chief was offering himself in the hope that his death might appease the pirate's craving for vengeance. They strolled about, their hearts too full for speech. Presently Paddy lifted his head alertly and signaled for silence. He was standing near the window and raised himself on tiptoe to catch the sounds coming through. Peter Gross walked softly toward him. "What is it?" he asked. "I thought I heard a white man speaking just now," Paddy whispered. "It sounded like Van Slyck's voice--Hist!" A low murmur of ironic laughter came through the gratings. Peter Gross's face became black with anger. There was no doubting who it was that had laughed. A few minutes later they heard the scraping of the heavy bar as it was lifted out of its socket, then the door opened. Several armed Chinamen, giants of their race, sprang inside. Ah Sing entered behind them, pointed at Peter Gross, and issued a harsh, guttural command. The resident walked forward and passively submitted to the rough hands placed upon him. Paddy tried to follow, but two of the guards thrust him back so roughly that he fell. Furious with anger, he leaped to his feet and sprang at one of them, but the Chinaman caught him, doubled his arm with a jiu-jitsu trick, and then threw him down again. The other prodded him with a spear. Inwardly raging, Paddy lay motionless until the guards tired of their sport and left him. In the meantime Peter Gross was half led, half dragged through the fore-court of the temple into another chamber. Those behind him prodded him with spear-points, those in front spit in his face. He stumbled, and as he regained his balance four barbs entered his back and legs, but his teeth were grimly set and he made no sound. Although he gazed about for Van Slyck, he saw no signs of him; the captain had unquestionably deemed it best to keep out of sight. In the chamber, at Ah Sing's command, they bound him securely hand and foot, with thongs of crocodile hide. Then the guards filed out and left the pirate chief alone with his prisoner. As the doors closed on them Ah Sing walked slowly toward the resident, who was lying on his back on the tessellated pavement. Peter Gross looked back calmly into the eyes that were fixed so gloatingly upon him. In them he read no sign of mercy. They shone with a savage exultation and fiendish cruelty. Ah Sing sighed a sigh of satisfaction. "Why you don't speak, Mynheer Gross?" he asked, mimicking Van Schouten's raspy voice. Peter Gross made no reply, but continued staring tranquilly into the face of his arch-enemy. "Mebbe you comee Ah Sing's house for two-three men?" the pirate chief suggested with a wicked grin. "Mebbe you show Ah Sing one damn' fine ring Mauritius?" the pirate chief mocked. Peter Gross did not flick an eyelash. A spasm of passion flashed over Ah Sing's face, and he kicked the resident violently. "Speakee, Chlistian dog," he snarled. Peter Gross's lips twitched with pain, but he did not utter a sound. "I teachum you speakee Ah Sing," the pirate declared grimly. Whipping a dagger from his girdle, he thrust it between Peter Gross's fourth and fifth ribs next to his heart. The point entered the skin, but Peter Gross made no sound. It penetrated a quarter-inch. Ah Sing, smiling evilly, searched the face of his victim for an expression of fear or pain. Three-eighths of an inch, half an inch--Peter Gross suddenly lunged forward. An involuntary contraction of his facial muscles betrayed him, and the Chinaman pulled the dagger away before the resident could impale himself upon it. He stepped back, and a look of admiration came upon his face--it was the tribute of one strong man to another. "Peter him muchee likee go _sangjang_ (hades)," he observed. "Ah Sing sendee him to-mollow, piecee, piecee, plenty much talkee then." The pirate indicated with strokes of his dagger that he would cut off Peter Gross's toes, fingers, ears, nose, arms, and legs piecemeal at the torture. Giving his victim another violent kick, he turned and passed through the door. A few minutes later a native physician came in with two armed guards and staunched the flow of blood, applying bandages with dressings of herbs to subdue inflammation. Night settled soon after. The darkness in the chamber was abysmal. Peter Gross lay on one side and stared into the blackness, waiting for the morning, the morning Ah Sing promised to make his last. Rats scurried about the floor and stopped to sniff suspiciously at him. At times he wished they were numerous enough to attack him. He knew full well the savage ingenuity of the wretches into whose hands he had fallen for devising tortures unspeakable, unendurable. Dawn came at last. The first rays of the sun peeping through the gratings found him asleep. Exhausted nature had demanded her toll, and even the horror of his situation had failed to banish slumber from his heavy lids. As the sun rose and gained strength the temperature sensibly increased, but Peter Gross slept on. He awoke naturally. Stretching himself to ease his stiffened limbs, he felt a sharp twitch of pain that brought instant remembrance. He struggled to a sitting posture. The position of the sun's rays on the wall indicated that the morning was well advanced. He listened for the camp sounds, wondering why his captors had not appeared for him before now. There was no sound outside except the soughing of the wind through the jungle and the lackadaisical chatter of the pargams and lories. "Strange!" he muttered to himself. "It can't be that they've left." His shoulders were aching frightfully, and he tugged at his bonds to get his hands free, but they were too firmly bound to be released by his unaided efforts. His clothing, he noticed, was almost drenched, the heavy night dew had clustered thickly upon it. So does man cling to the minor comforts even in his extremity that he labored to bring himself within the narrow park of the sun's rays to dry his clothing. He was still enjoying his sun-bath when he heard the bar that fastened the door of his chamber lifted from its sockets. His lips closed firmly. A half-uttered prayer, "God give me strength," floated upward, then the door opened. An armed guard, one of his jailers for the past two days, peered inside. Seeing his prisoner firmly bound, he ventured within with the customary bowl of rice and pannikin of water. A slash of his kris cut the thongs binding Peter Gross's hands, then the jailer backed to the door while the resident slowly and dazedly unwound the thongs that had bound him. Expecting nothing else than that he would be led to the torture, persuaded that the door would be opened for no other purpose, Peter Gross could not comprehend for a few moments what had happened. Then he realized that a few hours of additional grace had been vouchsafed him, and that Ah Sing and his crew must have left. He wondered why food was offered him. In the imminent expectancy of death, the very thought of eating had nauseated him the moment before. Yet to have this shadow removed, if only for a few hours, brought him an appetite. He ate with relish, the guard watching him in the meantime with cat-like intentness and holding his spear in instant readiness. As soon as the resident had finished he bore the dishes away, barring the door carefully again. CHAPTER XXIV A RESCUE Released from his bonds, for the jailer had not replaced these, Peter Gross spent the hours in comparative comfort. He amused himself in examining every inch of the cell in the faint hope that he might find a weak spot, and in meditating other plans of escape. Although missing Paddy's ready smile and readier chaff greatly, he did not worry about the lad, for since he was safe himself he reasoned that his subordinate must be. Late in the afternoon, while he was pacing his cell, the sharp crack of a rifle suddenly broke the forest stillness. Holding himself tense and rigid with every fiber thrilling at the thought of rescue, he listened for the repetition of the shot. It came quickly, mingled with a blood-curdling yell from a hundred or more savage throats. There were other scattered shots. His finger-nails bit into his palms, and his heart seemed to stand still. Had Carver found him? Were these Dyaks friends or enemies? The next few moments seemed that many eternities; then he heard a ringing American shout: "We've got 'em all, boys; come on!" Peter Gross leaped to the grating. "Here, Carver, here!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Coming!" twenty or more voices shouted in a scattered chorus. There was a rush of feet, leather-shod feet, across the fore-court pavement. The heavy bar was lifted. Striving to remain calm, although his heart beat tumultuously, Peter Gross waited in the center of the chamber until the door opened and Carver sprang within. The captain blinked to accustom himself to the light. Peter Gross stepped forward and their hands clasped. "In time, Mr. Gross, thank God!" Carver exclaimed. "Where's Paddy?" "In the other chamber; I'll show you," Peter Gross answered. He sprang out of his cell like a colt from the barrier and led the way on the double-quick to the cell that had housed him and Paddy for two days. Carver and he lifted the bar together and forced the door. The cell was empty. It took a full minute for the resident to comprehend this fact. He stared dazedly at every inch of the floor and wall, exploring bare corners with an eager eye, as though Paddy might be hiding in some nook or cranny. But the tenantless condition of the chamber was indisputable. A half-sob broke in Peter Gross's throat. It was the first emotion he had given way to. "They've taken him away," he said in a low, strained voice. "Search the temple!" Carver shouted in a stentorian voice to several of his command. "Get Jahi to help; he probably knows this place." "Jahi's here?" Peter Gross exclaimed incredulously. "He and a hundred hillmen," Carver replied crisply. "Now to comb this pile." The tribesmen scattered to search the ruin. It was not extensive. In the meantime Peter Gross briefly sketched the happenings of the past few days to Carver. At the mention of Van Slyck the captain's face became livid. "The damn' skunk said he was going to Padang," he exclaimed. "He left Banning in charge. I hope to God he stays away." One of Jahi's hillmen reported that no trace of Rouse could be found. "Him no here; him in bush," he said. "The Chinks have gone back to their proas; the trail heads that way," Carver said. "Some of Jahi's boys picked it up before we found you. But what the deuce do they want with Rouse, if they haven't killed him?" "He's alive," Peter Gross declared confidently, although his own heart was heavy with misgiving. "We've got to rescue him." "They've got at least five hours the start of us," Carver remarked. "How far are we from the seacoast?" Peter Gross's reply was as militarily curt as the captain's question. "About two hours' march." "They're probably at sea. We'll take a chance, though." He glanced upward at the sound of a footfall. "Ah, here's Jahi." Peter Gross turned to the chieftain who had so promptly lived up to his oath of brotherhood. Warm with gratitude, he longed to crush the Dyak's hand within his own, but restrained himself, knowing how the Borneans despised display of emotion. Instead he greeted the chief formally, rubbing noses according to the custom of the country. No word of thanks crossed his lips, for he realized that Jahi would be offended if he spoke. Such a service was due from brother to brother, according to the Dyak code. "Rajah, can we catch those China boys before they reach their proas?" Carver asked. "No can catch," Jahi replied. "Can we catch them before they sail?" "No can say." "How far is it?" They were standing near a lone column of stone that threw a short shadow toward them. Jahi touched the pavement with his spear at a point about six inches beyond the end of the shadow. "When there shall have reached by so far the finger of the sun," he declared. Both Carver and Peter Gross understood that he was designating how much longer the shadow must grow. "About two hours, as you said," Carver remarked to his chief. "We'd better start at once." Jahi bowed to indicate that he had understood. He took some soiled sheets of China rice paper from his chawat. "Here are skins that talk, _mynheer kapitein_," he said respectfully. "Dyak boy find him in China boy kampong." Carver thrust them into his pocket without looking at them and blew his whistle. A few minutes later they began the march to the sea. While they were speeding through a leafy tunnel with Jahi's Dyaks covering the front and rear to guard against surprise, Carver found opportunity to explain to Peter Gross how he had been able to make the rescue. Koyala had learned Ah Sing's plans from a native source and had hastened to Jahi, who was watching the borders of his range to guard against a surprise attack by Lkath. Jahi, on Koyala's advice, had made a forced march to within ten miles of Bulungan, where Carver, summoned by Koyala, had joined him. Starting at midnight, they had made an eight-hour march to the temple. "Koyala again," Peter Gross remarked. "She has been our good angel all the way." Carver was silent. The resident looked at him curiously. "I am surprised that you believed her so readily," he said. They jogged along some distance before the captain replied. "I believed her. But I don't believe in her," he said. "Something's happened since to cause you to lose confidence in her?" Peter Gross asked quickly. "No, nothing specific. Only Muller and his _controlleurs_ are having the devil's own time getting the census. Many of the chiefs won't even let them enter their villages. Somebody has been stirring them up. And there have been raids--" "So you assume it's Koyala?" Peter Gross demanded harshly. Carver evaded a reply. "I got a report that the priests are preaching a holy war among the Malay and Dyak Mohammedans." "That is bad, bad," Peter Gross observed, frowning thoughtfully. "We must find out who is at the bottom of this." "The Argus Pheasant isn't flying around the country for nothing," Carver suggested, but stopped abruptly as he saw the flash of anger that crossed his superior's face. "Every success we have had is due to her," Peter Gross asserted sharply. "She saved my life three times." Carver hazarded one more effort. "Granted. For some reason we don't know she thinks it's to her interest to keep you alive--for the present. But she has an object. I can't make it out yet, but I'm going to--" The captain's lips closed resolutely. "You condemned her before you saw her because she has Dyak blood," Peter Gross accused. "It isn't fair." "I'd like her a lot more if she wasn't so confounded friendly," Carver replied dryly. Peter Gross did not answer, and by tacit consent the subject was dropped. Captain Carver was looking at his watch--the two hours were more than up--when Jahi, who had been in the van, stole back and lifted his hand in signal for silence. "_Orang blanda_ here stay, Dyak boy smell kampong," he said. CHAPTER XXV THE FIGHT ON THE BEACH Carver gave a low-voiced command to halt, and enjoined his men to see to their weapons. As he ran his eyes over his company and saw their dogged jaws and alert, watchful faces, devoid of any trace of nervousness and excitability, his face lit with a quiet satisfaction. These men would fight--they were veterans who knew how to fight, and they had a motive; Paddy was a universal favorite. A Dyak plunged through the bush toward Jahi and jabbered excitedly. Jahi cried: "China boy, him go proa, three-four sampan." "Lead the way," Carver cried. Peter Gross translated. "Double time," the captain shouted, as Jahi and his tribesmen plunged through the bush at a pace too swift for even Peter Gross. In less than three minutes they reached the edge of the jungle, back about fifty yards from the coral beach. Four hundred yards from shore a proa was being loaded from several large sampans. Some distance out to sea, near the horizon, was another proa. A sharp command from Carver kept his men from rushing out on the beach in their ardor. In a moment or two every rifle in the company was covering the sampans. But there were sharp eyes and ears on board the proa as well as on shore, and a cry of alarm was given from the deck. The Chinese in the sampans leaped upward. At the same moment Carver gave the command to fire. Fully twenty Chinamen on the two sampans floating on the leeward side of the proa made the leap to her deck, and of these eleven fell back, so deadly was the fire. Only two of them dropped into the boats, the others falling into the sea. Equipped with the latest type of magazine rifle, Carver's irregulars continued pumping lead into the proa. Several Chinamen thrust rifles over the rail and attempted a reply, but when one dropped back with a bullet through his forehead and another with a creased skull, they desisted and took refuge behind the ship's steel-jacketed rail. Perceiving that the proa was armored against rifle-fire, Carver ordered all but six of his command to cease firing, the six making things sufficiently hot to keep the pirates from replying. The sampans were sinking. Built of skins placed around a bamboo frame, they had been badly cut by the first discharge. As one of them lowered to the gunwale, those on shore could see a wounded Chinaman, scarce able to crawl, beg his companions to throw him a rope. A coil of hemp shot over the deck of the vessel. The pirate reached for it, but at that moment the sampan went down and left him swirling in the water. A dorsal fin cut the surface close by, there was a little flurry, and the pirate disappeared. Peter Gross made his way through the bush toward Carver. The latter was watching the proa with an anxious frown. "They've got a steel jacket on her," he declared in answer to the resident's question. "So long as they don't show themselves we can't touch them. We couldn't go out to them in sampans if we had them; they'd sink us." "Concentrate your fire on the water-line," Peter Gross suggested. "The armor doesn't probably reach very low, and some of these proas are poorly built." "A good idea!" Carver bellowed the order. The fire was concentrated at the stern, where the ship rode highest. That those on board became instantly aware of the maneuver was evident from the fact that a pirate, hideously attired with a belt of human hands, leaned over the bow to slash at the hempen cable with his kris. He gave two cuts when he straightened spasmodically and tumbled headlong into the sea. He did not appear above the surface again. "_Een_," John Vander Esse, a member of the crew, murmured happily, refilling his magazine. "Now for _nummer twee_." (Number two.) But the kris had been whetted to a keen edge. A gust of wind filled the proa's cumbersome triangular sail and drove her forward. The weakened cable snapped. The ship lunged and half rolled into the trough of the waves; then the steersmen, sheltered in their box, gained control and swung it about. "Gif heem all you got," Anderson, a big Scandinavian and particularly fond of Rouse, yelled. The concentrated fire of the twenty-five rifles, emptied, refilled, and emptied as fast as human hands could perform these operations, centered on the stern of the ship. Even sturdy teak could not resist that battering. The proa had not gone a hundred yards before it was seen that the stern was settling. Suddenly it came about and headed for the shore. There was a shrill yell from Jahi's Dyaks. Carver shouted a hoarse order to Jahi, who dashed away with his hillmen to the point where the ship was about to ground. The rifle-fire kept on undiminished while Carver led his men in short dashes along the edge of the bush to the same spot. The proa was nearing the beach when a white flag was hoisted on her deck. Carver instantly gave the order to cease firing, but kept his men hidden. The proa lunged on. A hundred feet from the shore it struck on a shelf of coral. The sound of tearing planking was distinctly audible above the roar of the waves. The water about the ship seemed to be fairly alive with fins. "We will accept their surrender," Peter Gross said to Carver. "I shall tell them to send a boat ashore." He stepped forward. "Don't expose yourself, Mr. Gross," Carver cried anxiously. Peter Gross stepped into the shelter of a cocoanut-palm and shouted the Malay for "Ahoy." A Chinaman appeared at the bow. His dress and trappings showed that he was a _juragan_. "Lower a boat and come ashore. But leave your guns behind," Peter Gross ordered. The _juragan_ cried that there was no boat aboard. Peter Gross conferred with Jahi who had hastened toward them to find out what the conference meant. When the resident told him that there was to be no more killing, his disappointment was evident. "They have killed my people without mercy," he objected. "They will cut my brother's throat to-morrow and hang his skull in their lodges." It was necessary to use diplomacy to avoid mortally offending his ally, the resident saw. "It was not the white man's way to kill when the fight is over," he said. "Moreover, we will hold them as hostages for our son, whom Djath has blessed." Jahi nodded dubiously. "My brother's word is good," he said. "There is a creek near by. Maybe my boys find him sampan." "Go, my brother," Peter Gross directed. "Come back as soon as possible." Jahi vanished into the bush. A half-hour later Peter Gross made out a small sampan, paddled by two Dyaks, approaching from the south. That the Dyaks were none too confident was apparent from the anxious glances that they shot at the proa, which was already beginning to show signs of breaking up. Peter Gross shouted again to the _juragan_, and instructed him that every man leaving the proa must stand on the rail, in full sight of those on shore, and show that he was weaponless before descending into the sampan. The _juragan_ consented. It required five trips to the doomed ship before all on board were taken off. There were thirty-seven in all--eleven sailors and the rest off-scourings of the Java and Celebes seas, whose only vocation was cutting throats. They glared at their captors like tigers; it was more than evident that practically all of them except the _juragan_ fully expected to meet the same fate that they meted out to every one who fell into their hands, and were prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible. "A nasty crew," Carver remarked to Peter Gross as the pirates were herded on the beach under the rifles of his company. "Every man's expecting to be handed the same dose as he's handed some poor devil. I wonder why they didn't sink with their ship?" Peter Gross did not stop to explain, although he knew the reason why--the Mohammedan's horror of having his corpse pass into the belly of a shark. "We've got to tie them up and make a chain-gang of them," Carver said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't dare go through the jungle with that crew any other way." Peter Gross was looking at Jahi, in earnest conversation with several of his tribesmen. He perceived that the hill chief had all he could do to restrain his people from falling on the pirates, long their oppressors. "I will speak to them," he announced quietly. He stepped forward. "Servants of Ah Sing," he shouted in an authoritative tone. All eyes were instantly focused on him. "Servants of Ah Sing," he repeated, "the fortunes of war have this day made you my captives. You must go with me to Bulungan. If you will not go, you shall die here." A simultaneous movement affected the pirates. They clustered more closely together, fiercely defiant, and stared with the fatalistic indifference of Oriental peoples into the barrels of the rifles aimed at them. "You've all heard of me," Peter Gross resumed. "You know that the voice of Peter Gross speaks truth, that lies do not come from his mouth." He glanced at a Chinaman on the outskirts of the crowd. "Speak, Wong Ling Lo, you sailed with me on the _Daisy Deane_, is it not so?" Wong Ling Lo was now the center of attention. Each of the pirates awaited his reply with breathless expectancy. Peter Gross's calm assurance, his candor and simplicity, were already stirring in them a hope that in other moments they would have deemed utterly fantastic, contrary to all nature--a hope that this white man might be different from other men, might possess that attribute so utterly incomprehensible to their dark minds--mercy. "Peter Gross, him no lie," was Wong Ling Lo's unemotional admission. "You have heard what Wong Ling Lo says," Peter Gross cried. "Now, listen to what I say. You shall go back with me to Bulungan; alive, if you are willing; dead, if you are not. At Bulungan each one of you shall have a fair trial. Every man who can prove that his hand has not taken life shall be sentenced to three years on the coffee-plantations for his robberies, then he shall be set free and provided with a farm of his own to till so that he may redeem himself. Every man who has taken human life in the service of Ah Sing shall die." He paused to see the effect of his announcement. The owlish faces turned toward him were wholly enigmatic, but the intensity of each man's gaze revealed to Peter Gross the measure of their interest. "I cannot take you along the trail without binding you," he said. "Your oaths are worthless; I must use the power I have over you. Therefore you will now remember the promise I have made you, and submit yourselves to be bound. _Juragan_, you are the first." As one of Carver's force came forward with cords salvaged from the proa, the _juragan_ met him, placed his hands behind his back, and suffered them to be tied together. The next man hesitated, then submitted also, casting anxious glances at his companions. The third submitted promptly. The fourth folded his hands across his chest. "I remain here," he announced. "Very well," Peter Gross said impassively. He forced several Chinamen who were near to move back. They gave ground sullenly. At Carver's orders a firing-squad of three men stood in front of the Chinaman, whose back was toward the bay. "Will you go with us?" Peter Gross asked again. The Chinaman's face was a ghostly gray, but very firm. "Allah wills I stay here," he replied. His lips curled with a calm contemptuousness at the white man's inability to rob him of the place in heaven that he believed his murders had made for him. With that smile on his lips he died. A sudden silence came upon the crowd. Even Jahi's Dyaks, scarcely restrained by their powerful chief before this, ceased their mutterings and looked with new respect on the big _orang blanda_ resident. There were no more refusals among the Chinese. On instructions from Peter Gross four of them were left unbound to carry the body of their dead comrade to Bulungan. "Alive or dead," he had said. So it would be all understood. CHAPTER XXVI "TO HALF OF MY KINGDOM--" Captain Carver selected a cigar from Peter Gross's humidor and reclined in the most comfortable chair in the room. "A beastly hot day," he announced, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "Regular Manila weather." "The monsoon failed us again to-day," Peter Gross observed. Carver dropped the topic abruptly. "I dropped over," he announced, "to see if the _juragan_ talked any." Peter Gross glanced out of the window toward the jungle-crowned hills. The lines of his mouth were very firm. "He told me a great deal," he admitted. "About Paddy?" There was an anxious ring in Carver's voice. "About Paddy--and other things." "The lad's come to no harm?" "He is aboard Ah Sing's proa, the proa we saw standing out to sea when we reached the beach. He is safe--for the present at least. He will be useful to Ah Sing, the natives reverence him so highly." "Thank God!" Carver ejaculated in a relieved voice. "We'll get him back. It may take time, but we'll get him." Peter Gross made no reply. He was staring steadfastly at the hills again. "Odd he didn't take you, too," Carver remarked. "The _juragan_ told me that he intended to come back with a portion of his crew for me later," Peter Gross said. "They ran short of provisions, so they had to go back to the proas, and they took Paddy with them. Some one warned them you were on the march with Jahi, so they fled. Tsang Che, the _juragan_, says his crew was slow in taking on fresh water; that is how we were able to surprise him." "That explains it," Carver remarked. "I couldn't account for their leaving you behind." Peter Gross lapsed into silence again. "Did you get anything else from him, any real evidence?" Carver suggested presently. The resident roused himself with an effort. "A great deal. Even more than I like to believe." "He turned state's evidence?" "You might call it that." "You got enough to clear up this mess?" "No," Peter Gross replied slowly. "I would not say that. What he told me deals largely with past events, things that happened before I came here. It is the present with which we have to deal." "I'm a little curious," Carver confessed. Peter Gross passed his hand over his eyes and leaned back. "He told me what I have always believed. Of the confederation of pirates with Ah Sing at their head; of the agreements they have formed with those in authority; of where the ships have gone that have been reported missing from time to time and what became of their cargoes; of how my predecessor died. He made a very full and complete statement. I have it here, written in Dutch, and signed by him." Peter Gross tapped a drawer in his desk. "It compromises Van Slyck?" "He is a murderer." "Of de Jonge--your predecessor?" "It was his brain that planned." "Muller?" "A slaver and embezzler." "You're going to arrest them?" Carver scanned his superior's face eagerly. "Not yet," Peter Gross dissented quietly. "We have only the word of a pirate so far. And it covers many things that happened before we came here." "We're waiting too long," Carver asserted dubiously. "We've been lucky so far; but luck will turn." "We are getting the situation in hand better every day. They will strike soon, their patience is ebbing fast; and we will have the _Prins_ with us in a week." "The blow may fall before then." "We must be prepared. It would be folly for us to strike now. We have no proof except this confession, and Van Slyck has powerful friends at home." "That reminds me," Carver exclaimed. "Maybe these documents will interest you. They are the papers Jahi found on your jailers. They seem to be a set of accounts, but they're Dutch to me." He offered the papers to Peter Gross, who unfolded them and began to read. "Are they worth anything?" Carver asked presently, as the resident carefully filed them in the same drawer in which he had placed Tsang Che's statement. "They are Ah Sing's memoranda. They tell of the disposition of several cargoes of ships that have been reported lost recently. There are no names but symbols. It may prove valuable some day." "What are your plans?" "I don't know. I must talk with Koyala before I decide. She is coming this afternoon." Peter Gross glanced out of doors at that moment and his face brightened. "Here she comes now," he said. Carver rose. "I think I'll be going," he declared gruffly. "Stay, captain, by all means." Carver shook his head. He was frowning and he cast an anxious glance at the resident. "No; I don't trust her. I'd be in the way, anyway." He glanced swiftly at the resident to see the effect of his words. Peter Gross was looking down the lane along which Koyala was approaching. A necklace of flowers encircled her throat and bracelets of blossoms hung on her arms--gardenia, tuberose, hill daisies, and the scarlet bloom of the flame-of-the-forest tree. Her hat was of woven nipa palm-leaves, intricately fashioned together. Altogether she was a most alluring picture. When Peter Gross looked up Carver was gone. Koyala entered with the familiarity of an intimate friend. "What is this I hear?" Peter Gross asked with mock severity. "You have been saving me from my enemies again." Koyala's smile was neither assent nor denial. "This is getting to be a really serious situation for me," he chaffed. "I am finding myself more hopelessly in your debt every day." Koyala glanced at him swiftly, searchingly. His frankly ingenuous, almost boyish smile evoked a whimsical response from her. "What are you going to do when I present my claim?" she demanded. Peter Gross spread out his palms in mock dismay. "Go into bankruptcy," he replied. "It's the only thing left for me to do." "My bill will stagger you," she warned. "You know the Persian's answer, 'All that I have to the half of my kingdom,'" he jested. "I might ask more," Koyala ventured daringly. Peter Gross's face sobered. Koyala saw that, for some reason, her reply did not please him. A strange light glowed momentarily in her eyes. Instantly controlling herself, she said in carefully modulated tones: "You sent for me, _mynheer_?" "I did," Peter Gross admitted. "I must ask another favor of you, Koyala." The mirth was gone from his voice also. "What is it?" she asked quietly. "You know whom we have lost," Peter Gross said, plunging directly into the subject. "Ah Sing carried him away. His uncle, the boy's only living relative, is an old sea captain under whom I served for some time and a very dear friend. I promised him I would care for the lad. I must bring the boy back. You alone can help me." The burning intensity of Koyala's eyes moved even Peter Gross, unskilled as he was in the art of reading a woman's heart through her eyes. He felt vaguely uncomfortable, vaguely felt a peril he could not see or understand. "What will be my reward if I bring him back to you?" Koyala asked. Her tone was almost flippant. "You shall have whatever lies in my power as resident to give," Peter Gross promised gravely. Koyala laughed. There was a strange, jarring note in her voice. "I accept your offer, Mynheer Resident," she said. "But you should not have added those two words, 'as resident.'" Rising like a startled pheasant, she glided out of the door and across the plain. Peter Gross stared after her until she had disappeared. CHAPTER XXVII A WOMAN SCORNED It was Inchi who brought the news of Paddy's return. Three days after Koyala's departure the little Dyak lad burst breathlessly upon a colloquy between Peter Gross and Captain Carver and announced excitedly: "Him, Djath boy, him, _orang blanda_ Djath boy, him come." "What the devil is he driving at?" Carver growled. The circumlocution of the south-sea islander was a perennial mystery to him. "Paddy is coming," Peter Gross cried. "Now get your breath, Inchi, and tell us where he is." His scant vocabulary exhausted, Inchi broke into a torrent of Dyak. By requiring the lad to repeat several times, Peter Gross finally understood his message. "Paddy, Koyala, and some of Koyala's Dyaks are coming along the mountain trail," he announced. "They will be here in an hour. She sent a runner ahead to let us know, but the runner twisted an ankle. Inchi found him and got the message." There was a wild cheer as Paddy, dusty and matted with perspiration, several Dyaks, and Koyala emerged from the banyan-grove and crossed the plain. Discipline was forgotten as the entire command crowded around the lad. "I shot two Chinamans for you," Vander Esse announced. "An' now daat vas all unnecessary." "Ye can't keep a rid-head bottled up," Larry Malone, another member of the company, shouted exultingly. "Aye ban tank we joost get it nice quiet van you come back again," Anderson remarked in mock melancholy. The others hooted him down. Koyala stood apart from the crowd with her Dyaks and looked on. Glancing upward, Peter Gross noticed her, noticed, too, the childishly wistful look upon her face. He instantly guessed the reason--she felt herself apart from these people of his, unable to share their intimacy. Remorse smote him. She, to whom all their success was due, and who now rendered this crowning service, deserved better treatment. He hastened toward her. "Koyala," he said, his voice vibrant with the gratitude he felt, "how can we repay you?" Koyala made a weary gesture of dissent. "Let us not speak of that now, _mynheer_," she said. "But come to my home," he said. "We must have luncheon together--you and Captain Carver and Paddy and I." With a quick afterthought he added: "I will invite Mynheer Muller also." The momentary gleam of pleasure that had lit Koyala's face at the invitation died at the mention of Muller's name. "I am sorry," she said, but there was no regret in her voice. "I must go back to my people, to Djath's temple and the priests. It is a long journey; I must start at once." "You cannot leave us now!" Peter Gross exclaimed in consternation. "For the present I must," she said resignedly. "Perhaps when the moon is once more in the full, I shall come back to see what you have done." "But we cannot do without you!" "Is a woman so necessary?" she asked, and smiled sadly. "You are necessary to Bulungan's peace," Peter Gross affirmed. "Without you we can have no peace." "If you need me, send one of my people," she said. "I will leave him here with you. He will know where to find me." "But that may be too late," Peter Gross objected. His tone became very grave. "The crisis is almost upon us," he declared. "Ah Sing will make the supreme test soon--how soon I cannot say--but I do not think he will let very many days pass by. He is not accustomed to being thwarted. I shall need you here at my right hand to advise me." Koyala looked at him searchingly. The earnestness of his plea, the troubled look in his straight-forward, gray eyes fixed so pleadingly upon her, seemed to impress her. "There is a little arbor in the banyan-grove yonder where we can talk undisturbed," she said in a voice of quiet authority. "Come with me." "We can use my office," Peter Gross offered, but Koyala shook her head. "I must be on my journey. I will see you in the grove." Peter Gross walked beside her. He found difficulty in keeping the pace she set; she glided along like a winged thing. Koyala led him directly to the clearing and reclined with a sigh of utter weariness in the shade of a stunted nipa palm. "It has been a long journey," she said with a wan smile. "I am very tired." "Forgive me," Peter Gross exclaimed in contrition. "I should not have let you go. You must come back with me to the residency and rest until to-morrow." "A half-hour's rest will be all I need," Koyala replied. "But this is no place for you," Peter Gross expostulated. "The jungle is my home," Koyala said with simple pride. "The Argus Pheasant nests in the thickets." "Surely not at night?" "What is there to harm me?" Koyala smiled wearily at his alarm. "But the wild beasts, the tigers, and the leopards, and the orang-utans in the hill districts, and the snakes?" "They are all my friends. When the tiger calls, I answer. If he is hungry, I keep away. I know all the sounds of the jungle; my grandfather, Chawatangi, taught them to me. I know the warning hiss of the snake as he glides through the grasses, I know the timid hoofbeat of the antelope, I know the stealthy rustle of the wild hogs. They and the jackals are the only animals I cannot trust." "But where do you sleep?" "If the night is dark and there is no moon, I cut a bundle of bamboo canes. I bind these with creepers to make a platform and hang it in a tree. Then I swing between heaven and earth as securely or more securely, than you do in your house, for I am safe from the malice of men. If it rains I make a shelter of palm-leaves on a bamboo frame. These things one learns quickly in the forest." "You wonderful woman!" Peter Gross breathed in admiration. Koyala smiled. She lay stretched out her full length on the ground. Peter Gross squatted beside her. "You haven't told me where you found Paddy?" he remarked after a pause. "Oh, that was easy," she said. "Ah Sing has a station a little way this side of the Sadong country--" Peter Gross nodded. "I knew that he would go there. So I followed. When I got there Ah Sing was loading his proa with stores. I learned that your boy was a prisoner in one of the houses of his people. I went to Ah Sing and begged his life. I told him he was sacred to Djath, that the Dyaks of Bulungan thought him very holy indeed. Ah Sing was very angry. He stormed about the loss of his proa and refused to listen to me. He said he would hold the boy as a hostage. "That night I went to the hut and found one of my people on guard. He let me in. I cut the cords that bound the boy, dyed his face brown and gave him a woman's dress. I told him to wait for me in the forest until he heard my cry. The guard thought it was me when he left." Her voice drooped pathetically. "They brought me to Ah Sing. He was very angry, he would have killed me, I think, if he had dared. He struck me--see, here is the mark." She drew back the sleeve of her kabaya and revealed a cut in the skin with blue bruises about it. Peter Gross became very white and his teeth closed together tightly. "That is all," she concluded. There was a long silence. Koyala covertly studied the resident's profile, so boyish, yet so masterfully stern, as he gazed into the forest depths. She could guess his thoughts, and she half-smiled. "When you left, I promised you that you should have a reward--anything that you might name and in my power as resident to give," Peter Gross said presently. "Let us not speak of that--yet," Koyala dissented. "Tell me, Mynheer Gross, do you love my country?" "It is a wonderfully beautiful country," Peter Gross replied enthusiastically, falling in with her mood. "A country of infinite possibilities. We can make it the garden spot of the world. Never have I seen such fertile soil as there is in the river bottom below us. All it needs is time and labor--and men with vision." Koyala rose to a sitting posture and leaned on one hand. With deft motion of the other she made an ineffectual effort to cover her nut-brown limbs, cuddled among the ferns and grasses, with the shortened kabaya. Very nymphlike she looked, a Diana of the jungle, and it was small wonder that Peter Gross, the indifferent to woman, gave her his serious attention while she glanced pensively down the forest aisles. "Men with vision!" she sighed presently. "That is what we have always needed. That is what we have always lacked. My unhappy people! Ignorant, and none to teach them, none to guide them into the better way. Leaders have come, have stayed a little while, and then they have gone again. Brooke helped us in Sarawak--now only his memory is left." A pause. "I suppose you will be going back to Java soon again, _mynheer_?" "Not until my work is completed," Peter Gross assured gravely. "But that will be soon. You will crush your enemies. You will organize the districts and lighten our burdens for a while. Then you will go. A new resident will come. Things will slip back into the old rut. Our young men are hot-headed, there will be feuds, wars, piracy. There are turns in the wheel, but no progress for us, _mynheer_. Borneo!" Her voice broke with a sob, and she stole a covert glance at him. "By heaven, I swear that will not happen, Koyala," Peter Gross asserted vehemently. "I shall not go away, I shall stay here. The governor owes me some reward, the least he can give me is to let me finish the work I have begun. I shall dedicate my life to Bulungan--we, Koyala, shall redeem her, we two." Koyala shook her head. Her big, sorrowful eyes gleamed on him for a moment through tears. "So you speak to-day when you are full of enthusiasm, _mynheer_. But when one or two years have passed, and you hear naught but the unending tales of tribal jealousies, and quarrels over buffaloes, and complaints about the tax, and falsehood upon falsehood, then your ambition will fade and you will seek a place to rest, far from Borneo." The gentle sadness of her tear-dimmed eyes, the melancholy cadences of her voice sighing tribulation like an October wind among the maples, and her eloquent beauty, set Peter Gross's pulses on fire. "Koyala," he cried, "do you think I could give up a cause like this--forget the work we have done together--to spend my days on a plantation in Java like a buffalo in his wallow?" "You would soon forget Borneo in Java, _mynheer_--and me." The sweet melancholy of her plaintive smile drove Peter Gross to madness. "Forget you? You, Koyala? My right hand, my savior, savior thrice over, to whom I owe every success I have had, without whom I would have failed utterly, died miserably in Wobanguli's hall? You wonderful woman! You lovely, adorable woman!" Snatching her hands in his, he stared at her with a fierce hunger that was half passion, half gratitude. A gleam of savage exultation flashed in Koyala's eyes. The resident was hers. The fierce, insatiate craving for this moment, that had filled her heart ever since she first saw Peter Gross until it tainted every drop of blood, now raced through her veins like vitriol. She lowered her lids lest he read her eyes, and bit her tongue to choke utterance. Still his grasp on her hands did not relax. At last she asked in a low voice, that sounded strange and harsh even to her: "Why do you hold me, _mynheer_?" The madness of the moment was still on Peter. He opened his lips to speak words that flowed to them without conscious thought, phrases as utterly foreign to his vocabulary as metaphysics to a Hottentot. Then reason resumed her throne. Breathing heavily, he released her. "Forgive me, Koyala," he said humbly. A chill of disappointment, like an arctic wave, submerged Koyala. She felt the sensation of having what was dearest in life suddenly snatched from her. Her stupefaction lasted but an instant. Then the fury that goads a woman scorned possessed her and lashed on the blood-hounds of vengeance. "Forgive you?" she spat venomously. "Forgive you for what? The words you did not say, just now, _orang blanda_, when you held these two hands?" Peter Gross had risen quickly and she also sprang to her feet. Her face, furious with rage, was lifted toward his, and her two clenched fists were held above her fluttering bosom. Passion made her almost inarticulate. "Forgive you for cozening me with sweet words of _our_ work, and _our_ mission when you despised me for the blood of my mother that is in me? Forgive you for leading me around like a pet parrot to say your words to my people and delude them? Forgive you for the ignominy you have heaped upon me, the shame you have brought to me, the loss of friendships and the laughter of my enemies?" "Koyala--" Peter Gross attempted, but he might as well have tried to stop Niagara. "Are these the things you seek forgiveness for?" Koyala shrieked. "Liar! Seducer! _Orang blanda!_" She spat the word as though it were something vile. At that moment there was a rustling in the cane back of Peter Gross. Bewildered, contrite, striving to collect his scattered wits that he might calm the tempest of her wrath, he did not hear it. But Koyala did. There was a savage exultation in her voice as she cried: "To-morrow the last white will be swept from Bulungan. But you will stay here, _mynheer_--" Hearing the footsteps behind him, Peter Gross whirled on his heel. But he turned too late. A bag was thrust over his head. He tried to tear it away, but clinging arms, arms as strong as his, held it tightly about him. A heavy vapor ascended into his nostrils, a vapor warm with the perfume of burning sandalwood and aromatic unguents and spices. He felt a drowsiness come upon him, struggled to cast it off, and yielded. With a sigh like a tired child's he sagged into the waiting arms and was lowered to the ground. "Very good, Mynheer Muller," Koyala said. "Now, if you and Cho Seng will bind his legs I will call my Dyaks and have him carried to the house we have prepared for him." CHAPTER XXVIII THE ATTACK ON THE FORT When Peter Gross failed to return by noon that day Captain Carver, becoming alarmed, began making inquiries. Hughes supplied the first clue. "I saw him go into the bush with the heathen woman while we was buzzin' Paddy," he informed his commander. "I ain't seen him since." A scouting party was instantly organized. It searched the banyan grove, but found nothing. One, of the members, an old plainsman, reported heel-marks on the trail, but as this was a common walk of the troops at the fort the discovery had no significance. "Where is Inchi?" Captain Carver inquired. Search also failed to reveal the Dyak lad. As this disquieting news was reported, Lieutenant Banning was announced. The lieutenant, a smooth-faced, clean-cut young officer who had had his commission only a few years, explained the object of his visit without indulging in preliminaries. "One of my Java boys tells me the report is current in Bulungan that we are to be attacked to-morrow," he announced. "A holy war has been preached, and all the sea Dyaks and Malays in the residency are now marching this way, he says. The pirate fleet is expected here to-night. I haven't seen or heard of Captain Van Slyck since he left for Padang." He was plainly worried, and Carver correctly construed his warning as an appeal for advice and assistance. The captain took from his wallet the commission that Peter Gross had given him some time before. "Since Captain Van Slyck is absent, I may as well inform you that I take command of the fort by order of the resident," he said, giving the document to Banning. The lieutenant scanned it quickly. "Very good, captain," he remarked with a relieved air. His tone plainly indicated that he was glad to place responsibility in the crisis upon an older and more experienced commander. "I suppose you will enter the fort with your men?" "We shall move our stores and all our effects at once," Carver declared. "Are your dispositions made?" "We are always ready, captain," was the lieutenant's reply. From the roof of the residency Carver studied Bulungan town through field-glasses. There was an unwonted activity in the village, he noticed. Scanning the streets, he saw the unusual number of armed men hurrying about and grouped at street corners and in the market-place. At the water-front several small proas were hastily putting out to sea. "It looks as if Banning was right," he muttered. By sundown Carver's irregulars were stationed at the fort. Courtesy denominated it a fort, but in reality it was little more than a stockade made permanent by small towers of crude masonry, filled between with logs set on end. The elevation, however, gave it a commanding advantage in such an attack as they might expect. Peter Gross had been careful to supply machine-guns, and these were placed where they would do the most efficient service. Putting the Javanese at work, Carver hastily threw up around the fort a series of barbed-wire entanglements and dug trench-shelters inside. These operations were watched by an ever-increasing mob of armed natives, who kept a respectful distance away, however. Banning suggested a sortie in force to intimidate the Dyaks. "It would be time wasted," Carver declared. "We don't have to be afraid of this mob. They won't show teeth until the he-bear comes. We'll confine ourselves to getting ready--every second is precious." A searchlight was one of Carver's contributions to the defenses. Double sentries were posted and the light played the country about all night, but there was no alarm. When dawn broke Carver and Banning, up with the sun, uttered an almost simultaneous exclamation. A fleet of nearly thirty proas, laden down with fighting men, lay in the harbor. "Ah Sing has arrived," Banning remarked. Absent-mindedly he mused: "I wonder if Captain Van Slyck is there?" Carver had by this time mastered just enough Dutch to catch the lieutenant's meaning. "What do you know about Captain Van Slyck's dealings with this gang?" he demanded, looking at the young man fixedly. "I can't say--that is--" Banning took refuge in an embarrassed silence. "Never mind," Carver answered curtly. "I don't want you to inform against a superior officer. But when we get back to Batavia you'll be called upon to testify to what you know." Banning made no reply. Carver was at breakfast when word was brought him that Mynheer Muller, the _controlleur_, was at the gate and desired to see him. He had left orders that none should be permitted to enter or leave without special permission from the officer of the day. The immediate thought that Muller was come to propose terms of surrender occurred to him, and he flushed darkly. He directed that the _controlleur_ be admitted. "_Goeden-morgen, mynheer kapitein_," Muller greeted as he entered. His face was very pale, but he seemed to carry himself with more dignity than customarily, Carver noticed. "State your mission, _mynheer_," Carver directed bluntly, transfixing the _controlleur_ with his stern gaze. "_Mynheer kapitein_, you must fight for your lives to-day," Muller said. "Ah Sing is here, there are three thousand Dyaks and Malays below." His voice quavered, but he pulled himself together quickly. "I see you are prepared. Therefore what I have told you is no news to you." He paused. "Proceed," Carver directed curtly. "_Mynheer kapitein_, I am here to fight and die with you," the _controlleur_ announced. A momentary flash of astonishment crossed Carver's face. Then his suspicions were redoubled. "I hadn't expected this," he said, without mincing words. "I thought you would be on the other side." Muller's face reddened, but he instantly recovered. "There was a time when I thought so, too, _kapitein_," he admitted candidly. "But I now see I was in the wrong. What has been done, I cannot undo. But I can die with you. There is no escape for you to-day, they are too many, and too well armed. I have lived a Celebes islander, a robber, and a friend of robbers. I can at least die a white man and a Hollander." Carver looked at him fixedly. "Where is the resident?" he demanded. "In a hut, in the jungle." "In Ah Sing's hands?" "He is Koyala's prisoner. Ah Sing does not know he is there." "Um!" Carver grunted. The exclamation hid a world of meaning. It took little thought on his part to vision what had occurred. "Why aren't you with Koyala?" he asked crisply. Muller looked away. "She does not want me," he said in a low voice. For the first time since coming to Bulungan, Carver felt a trace of sympathy for Muller. He, too, had been disappointed in love. His tone was a trifle less gruff as he asked: "Can you handle a gun?" "_Ja, mynheer._" "You understand you'll get a bullet through the head at the first sign of treachery?" Muller flushed darkly. "_Ja, mynheer_," he affirmed with quiet dignity. It was the flush that decided Carver. "Report to Lieutenant Banning," he said. "He'll give you a rifle." It was less than an hour later that the investment of the fort began. The Dyaks, scurrying through the banyan groves and bamboo thickets, enclosed it on the rear and landward sides. Ah Sing's pirates and the Malays crawled up the rise to attack it from the front. Two of Ah Sing's proas moved up the bay to shut off escape from the sea. An insolent demand from Ah Sing and Wobanguli that they surrender prefaced the hostilities. "Tell the Rajah and his Chinese cut-throat that we'll have the pleasure of hanging them," was Carver's reply. To meet the attack, Carver entrusted the defense of the rear and landward walls to the Dutch and Javanese under Banning, while he looked after the frontal attack, which he shrewdly guessed would be the most severe. Taking advantage of every bush and tree, and particularly the hedges that lined the lane leading down to Bulungan, the Malays and pirates got within six hundred yards of the fort. A desultory rifle-fire was opened. It increased rapidly, and soon a hail of bullets began sweeping over the enclosure. "They've got magazine-rifles," Carver muttered to himself. "Latest pattern, too. That's what comes of letting traders sell promiscuously to natives." The defenders made a vigorous reply. The magazine-rifles were used with telling effect. Banning had little difficulty keeping the Dyaks back, but the pirates and Malays were a different race of fighters, and gradually crept closer in, taking advantage of every bit of cover that the heavily grown country afforded. As new levies of natives arrived, the fire increased in intensity. There were at least a thousand rifles in the attacking force, Carver judged, and some of the pirates soon demonstrated that they were able marksmen. An old plainsman was the first casualty. He was sighting along his rifle at a daring Manchu who had advanced within three hundred yards of the enclosure when a bullet struck him in the forehead and passed through his skull. He fell where he stood. Shortly thereafter Gibson, an ex-sailor, uttered an exclamation, and clapped his right hand to his left shoulder. "Are ye hit?" Larry Malone asked. "They winged me, I guess," Gibson said. The Dutch medical officer hastened forward. "The bone's broken," he pronounced. "We'll have to amputate." "Then let me finish this fight first," Gibson retorted, picking up his rifle. The doctor was a soldier, too. He tied the useless arm in a sling, filled Gibson's magazine, and jogged away to other duties with a parting witticism about Americans who didn't know when to quit. There was plenty of work for him to do. Within the next half hour ten men were brought into the improvised hospital, and Carver, on the walls, was tugging his chin, wondering whether he would be able to hold the day out. The firing began to diminish. Scanning the underbrush to see what significance this might have, Carver saw heavy columns of natives forming. The first test was upon them. At his sharp command the reply fire from the fort ceased and every man filled his magazine. With a wild whoop the Malays and Chinese rose from the bush and raced toward the stockade. There was an answering yell from the other side as the Dyaks, spears and krisses waving, sprang from the jungle. On the walls, silence. The brown wave swept like an avalanche to within three hundred yards. The Javanese looked anxiously at their white leader, standing like a statue, watching the human tide roll toward him. Two hundred yards--a hundred and fifty yards. The Dutch riflemen began to fidget. A hundred yards. An uneasy murmur ran down the whole line. Fifty yards. Carver gave the signal. Banning instantly repeated it. A sheet of flame leaped from the walls as rifles and machine-guns poured their deadly torrents of lead into the advancing horde. The first line melted away like butter before a fire. Their wild yells of triumph changed to frantic shrieks of panic, the Dyaks broke and fled for the protecting cover of the jungle while the guns behind them decimated their ranks. The Malays and Chinese got within ten yards of the fort before they succumbed to the awful fusillade, and fled and crawled back to shelter. A mustached Manchu alone reached the gate. He waved his huge kris, but at that moment one of Carver's company emptied a rifle into his chest and he fell at the very base of the wall. The attack was begun, checked, and ended within four minutes. Over two hundred dead and wounded natives and Chinese lay scattered about the plain. The loss within the fort had been four killed and five wounded. Two of the dead were from Carver's command, John Vander Esse and a Californian. As he counted his casualties, Carver's lips tightened. His thoughts were remarkably similar to that of the great Epirot: "Another such victory and I am undone." Lieutenant Banning, mopping his brow, stepped forward to felicitate his commanding officer. "They'll leave us alone for to-day, anyway," he predicted. Carver stroked his chin in silence a moment. "I don't think Ah Sing's licked so soon," he replied. For the next three hours there was only desultory firing. The great body of natives seemed to have departed, leaving only a sufficient force behind to hold the defenders in check in case they attempted to leave the fort. Speculation on the next step of the natives was soon answered. Scanning the harbor with his glasses, Carver detected an unwonted activity on the deck of one of the proas. He watched it closely for a few moments, then he uttered an exclamation. "They're unloading artillery," he told Lieutenant Banning. The lieutenant's lips tightened. "We have nothing except these old guns," he replied. "They're junk," Carver observed succinctly. "These proas carry Krupps, I'm told." "What are you going to do?" "We'll see whether they can handle it first. If they make it too hot for us--well, we'll die fighting." The first shell broke over the fort an hour later and exploded in the jungle on the other side. Twenty or thirty shells were wasted in this way before the gunner secured the range. His next effort landed against one of the masonry towers on the side defended by the Dutch. When the smoke had cleared away the tower lay leveled. Nine dead and wounded men were scattered among the ruins. A yell rose from the natives, which the remaining Dutch promptly answered with a stinging volley. "Hold your fire," Carver directed Banning. "We'd better take to the trenches." These had been dug the day before and deepened during the past hour. Carver issued the necessary commands and the defenders, except ten pickets, concealed themselves in their earthen shelters. The gunnery of the Chinese artilleryman improved, and gaunt breaches were formed in the walls. One by one the towers crumbled. Each well-placed shell was signalized by cheers from the Dyaks and Malays. The shelling finally ceased abruptly. Carver and Banning surveyed the scene. A ruin of fallen stones and splintered logs was all that lay between them and the horde of over three thousand pirates and Malay and Dyak rebels. The natives were forming for a charge. Carver took the lieutenant's hand in his own firm grip. "This is probably the end," he said. "I'm glad to die fighting in such good company." CHAPTER XXIX A WOMAN'S HEART Lying on the bamboo floor of the jungle hut which Muller had spoken of, his hands and feet firmly bound, and a Dyak guard armed with spear and kris at the door, Peter Gross thought over the events of his administration as resident of Bulungan. His thoughts were not pleasant. Shame filled his heart and reddened his brow as he thought of how confidently he had assumed his mission, how firmly he had believed himself to be the chosen instrument of destiny to restore order in the distracted colony and punish those guilty of heinous crimes, and how arrogantly he had rejected the sage advice of his elders. He recollected old Sachsen's warning and his own impatient reply--the event that he deemed so preposterous at that time and old Sachsen had foreseen had actually come to pass. He had fallen victim to Koyala's wiles. And she had betrayed him. Bitterly he cursed his stupid folly, the folly that had led him to enter the jungle with her, the folly of that mad moment when temptation had assailed him where man is weakest. In his bitter self-excoriation he had no thought of condemnation for her. The fault was his, he vehemently assured himself, lashing himself with the scorpions of self-reproach. She was what nature and the sin of her father had made her, a child of two alien, unincorporable races, a daughter of the primitive, wild, untamed, uncontrolled, loving fiercely, hating fiercely, capable of supremest sacrifice, capable, too, of the most fiendish cruelty. He had taken this creature and used her for his own ends, he had praised her, petted her, treated her as an equal, companion, and helpmate. Then, when that moment of madness was upon them both, he had suddenly wounded her acutely sensitive, bitterly proud soul by drawing the bar sinister. How she must have suffered! He winced at the thought of the pain he had inflicted. She could not be blamed, no, the fault was his, he acknowledged. He should have considered that he was dealing with a creature of flesh and blood, a woman with youth, and beauty, and passion. If he, who so fondly dreamed that his heart was marble, could fall so quickly and so fatally, could he censure her? Carver, too, had warned him. Not once, but many times, almost daily. He had laughed at the warnings, later almost quarreled. What should he say if he ever saw Carver again? He groaned. There was a soft swish of skirts. Koyala stood before him. She gazed at him coldly. There was neither hate nor love in her eyes, only indifference. In her hand she held a dagger. Peter Gross returned her gaze without flinching. "You are my prisoner, _orang blanda_," she said. "Mine only. This hut is mine. We are alone here, in the jungle, except for one of my people." "You may do with me as you will, Koyala," Peter Gross replied weariedly. Koyala started, and looked at him keenly. "I have come to carry you away," she announced. Peter Gross looked at her in silence. "But first there are many things that we must talk about," she said. Peter Gross rose to a sitting posture. "I am listening," he announced. Koyala did not reply at once. She was gazing fixedly into his eyes, those frank, gray eyes that had so often looked clearly and honestly into hers as he enthusiastically spoke of their joint mission in Bulungan. A half-sob broke in her throat, but she restrained it fiercely. "Do you remember, _mynheer_, when we first met?" she asked. "It was at the mouth of the Abbas River, was it not? At Wolang's village?" "Why did you laugh at me then?" she exclaimed fiercely. Peter Gross looked at her in astonishment. "I laughed at you?" he exclaimed. "Yes, on the beach. When I told you you must go. You laughed. Do not deny it, you laughed!" The fierce intensity of her tone betrayed her feeling. Peter Gross shook his head while his gaze met hers frankly. "I do not recollect," he said. "I surely did not laugh at you--I do not know what it was--" A light broke upon him. "Ay, to be sure, I remember, now. It was a Dyak boy with a mountain goat. He was drinking milk from the teats. Don't you recall?" "You are trying to deceive me," Koyala cried angrily. "You laughed because--because--" "As God lives, it is the truth!" Koyala placed the point of her dagger over Peter Gross's heart. "_Orang blanda_," she said, "I have sworn to kill you if you lie to me in any single particular to-day. I did not see that whereof you speak. There was no boy, no goat. Quick now, the truth, if you would save your life." Peter Gross met her glance fearlessly. "I have told you why I laughed, Koyala," he replied. "I can tell you nothing different." The point of the dagger pricked the resident's skin. "Then you would rather die?" Peter Gross merely stared at her. Koyala drew a deep breath and drew back the blade. "First we shall talk of other things," she said. At that moment the rattle of rifle-fire reached Peter Gross's ears. "What is that?" he cried. Koyala laughed, a low laugh of exultation. "That, _mynheer_, is the children of Bulungan driving the white peccaries from Borneo." "Ah Sing has attacked?" Peter Gross could not help, in his excitement, letting a note of his dismay sound in his voice. "Ah Sing and his pirates," Koyala cried triumphantly. "Wobanguli and the warriors of Bulungan. Lkath and his Sadong Dyaks. The Malays from the coast towns. All Bulungan except the hill people. They are all there, as many as the sands of the seashore, and they have the _orang blanda_ from Holland, and the Javanese, and the loud-voiced _orang blanda_ that you brought with you, penned in Van Slyck's kampong. None will escape." "Thank God Carver's in the fort," Peter Gross ejaculated. "But they cannot escape," Koyala insisted fiercely. "We shall see," Peter Gross replied. Great as were the odds, he felt confident of Carver's ability to hold out a few days anyway. He had yet to learn of the artillery Ah Sing commanded. "Not one shall escape," Koyala reiterated, the tigerish light glowing in her eyes. "Ah Sing has pledged it to me, Wobanguli has pledged it to me, the last _orang blanda_ shall be driven from Bulungan." She clutched the hilt of her dagger fiercely--. Amazed at her vehemence, Peter Gross watched the shifting display of emotion on her face. "Koyala," he said, suddenly, "why do you hate us whites so?" He shrank before the fierce glance she cast at him. "Is there any need to ask?" she cried violently. "Did I not tell you the first day we met, when I told you I asked no favors of you, and would accept none? What have you and your race brought to my people and to me but misery, and more misery? You came with fair promises, how have you fulfilled them? In the _orang blanda_ way, falsehood upon falsehood, taking all, giving none. Why don't I kill you now, when I have you in my power, when I have only to drop my hand thus--" she flashed the dagger at Peter Gross's breast--"and I will be revenged? Why? Because I was a fool, white man, because I listened to your lies and believed when all my days I have sworn I would not. So I have let you live, unless--" She did not finish the thought, but stood in rigid attention, listening to the increasing volume of rifle-fire. "They are wiping it out in blood there," she said softly to herself, "the wrongs of Bulungan, what my unhappy country has suffered from the _orang blanda_." Peter Gross's head was bowed humbly. "I have wronged you," he said humbly. "But, before God, I did it in ignorance. I thought you understood--I thought you worked with me for Bulungan and Bulungan only, with no thought of self. So I worked. Yet somehow, my plans went wrong. The people did not trust me. I tried to relieve them of unjust taxes. They would not let me take the census. I tried to end raiding. There were always disorders and I could not find the guilty. I found a murderer for Lkath, among his own people, yet he drove me away. I cannot understand it." "Do you know why?" Koyala exclaimed exultingly. "Do you know why you failed? It was I--I--I, who worked against you. The _orang kayas_ sent their runners to me and said: 'Shall we give the _controlleur_ the count of our people?' and I said: 'No, Djath forbids.' To the Rajahs and Gustis I said: 'Let there be wars, we must keep the ancient valor of our people lest they become like the Javanese, a nation of slaves.' You almost tricked Lkath into taking the oath. But in the night I went to him and said: 'Shall the vulture rest in the eagle's nest?' and he drove you away." Peter Gross stared at her with eyes that saw not. The house of his faith was crumbling into ruins, yet he scarcely realized it himself, the revelation of her perfidy had come so suddenly. He groped blindly for salvage from the wreck, crying: "But you saved my life--three times!" She saw his suffering and smiled. So she had been made to suffer, not once, but a thousand times. "That was because I had sworn the revenge should be mine, not Ah Sing's or any one else's, _orang blanda_." Peter Gross lowered his face in the shadow. He did not care to have her see how great had been his disillusionment, how deep was his pain. "You may do with me as you will, _juffrouw_," he said. Koyala looked at him strangely a moment, then rose silently and left the hut. Peter Gross never knew the reason. It was because at that moment, when she revealed her Dyak treachery and uprooted his faith, he spoke to her as he would to a white woman--"_juffrouw_." "They are holding out yet," Peter Gross said to himself cheerfully some time later as the sound of scattered volleys was wafted over the hills. Presently he heard the dull boom of the first shell. His face paled. "That is artillery!" he exclaimed. "Can it be--?" He remembered the heavy guns on the proas and his face became whiter still. He began tugging at his bonds, but they were too firmly bound. His Dyak guard looked in and grinned, and he desisted. As time passed and the explosions continued uninterruptedly, his face became haggard and more haggard. It was because of his folly, he told himself, that men were dying there--brave Carver, so much abler and more foresighted than he, the ever-cheerful Paddy, all those he had brought with him, good men and true. He choked. Presently the shell-fire ceased. Peter Gross knew what it meant, in imagination he saw the columns of natives forming, column upon column, all that vast horde of savages and worse than savages let loose on a tiny square of whites. A figure stood in the doorway. It was Koyala. Cho Seng stood beside her. "The walls are down," she cried triumphantly. "There is only a handful of them left. The people of Bulungan are now forming for the charge. In a few minutes you will be the only white man left in Bulungan." "I and Captain Van Slyck," Peter Gross said scornfully. "He is dead," Koyala replied. "Ah Sing killed him. He was of no further use to us, why should he live?" Peter Gross's lips tightened grimly. The traitor, at least, had met the death he merited. Cho Seng edged nearer. Peter Gross noticed the dagger hilt protruding from his blouse. "Has my time come, too?" he asked calmly. The Chinaman leaped on him. "Ah Sing sends you this," he cried hoarsely--the dagger flashed. Quick as he was, quick as a tiger striking its prey, the Argus Pheasant was quicker. As the dagger descended, Koyala caught him by the wrist. He struck her with his free hand and tried to tear the blade away. Then his legs doubled under him, for Peter Gross, although his wrists were bound, could use his arms. Cho Seng fell on the point of the dagger, that buried itself to the hilt in the fleshy part of his breast. With a low groan he rolled over. His eyeballs rolled glassily upward, thick, choked sounds came from his throat-- "Ah Sing--comeee--for Koyala--plenty quick--" With a sigh, he died. Peter Gross looked at the Argus Pheasant. She was gazing dully at a tiny scratch on her forearm, a scratch made by Cho Seng's dagger. The edges were purplish. "The dagger was poisoned," she murmured dully. Her glance met her prisoner's and she smiled wanly. "I go to _Sangjang_ with you, _mynheer_," she said. Peter Gross staggered to his knees and caught her arm. Before she comprehended what he intended to do he had his lips upon the cut and was sucking the blood. A scarlet tide flooded her face, then fled, leaving her cheeks with the pallor of death. "No, no," she cried, choking, and tried to tear her arm away. But in Peter Gross's firm grasp she was like a child. After a frantic, futile struggle she yielded. Her face was bloodless as a corpse and she stared glassily at the wall. Presently Peter Gross released her. "It was only a scratch," he said gently. "I think we have gotten rid of the poison." The sound of broken sobbing was his only answer. "Koyala," he exclaimed. With a low moan she ran out of the hut, leaving him alone with the dead body of the Chinaman, already bloated purple. Peter Gross listened again. Only the ominous silence from the hills, the silence that foretold the storm. He wondered where Koyala was and his heart became hot as he recollected Cho Seng's farewell message that Ah Sing was coming. Well, Ah Sing would find him, find him bound and helpless. The pirate chief would at last have his long-sought revenge. For some inexplicable reason he felt glad that Koyala was not near. The jungle was her best protection, he knew. A heavy explosion cut short his reveries. "They are cannonading again," he exclaimed in surprise, but as another terrific crash sounded a moment later, his face became glorified. Wild cries of terror sounded over the hills, Dyak cries, mingled with the shrieking of shrapnel-- "It's the _Prins_," Peter Gross exclaimed jubilantly. "Thank God, Captain Enckel came on time." He tugged at his own bonds in a frenzy of hope, exerting all his great strength to strain them sufficiently to permit him to slip one hand free. But they were too tightly bound. Presently a shadow fell over him. He looked up with a start, expecting to see the face of the Chinese arch-murderer, Ah Sing. Instead it was Koyala. "Let me help you," she said huskily. With a stroke of her dagger she cut the cord. Another stroke cut the bonds that tied his feet. He sprang up, a free man. "Hurry, Koyala," he cried, catching her by the arm. "Ah Sing may be here any minute." Koyala gently disengaged herself. "Ah Sing is in the jungle, far from here," she said. A silence fell upon them both. Her eyes, averted from his, sought the ground. He stood by, struggling for adequate expression. "Where are you going, Koyala?" he finally asked. She had made no movement to go. "Wherever you will, _mynheer_," she replied quietly. "I am now your prisoner." Peter Gross stared a moment in astonishment. "My prisoner?" he repeated. "Nonsense." "Your people have conquered, _mynheer_," she said. "Mine are in flight. Therefore I have come to surrender myself--to you." "I do not ask your surrender," Peter Gross, replied gravely, beginning to understand. "You do not ask it, _mynheer_, but some one must suffer for what has happened. Some one must pay the victor's price. I am responsible, I incited my people. So I offer myself--they are innocent and should not be made to suffer." "Ah Sing is responsible," Peter Gross said firmly. "And I." "You, _mynheer_?" The question came from Koyala's unwilling lips before she realized it. "Yes, I, _juffrouw_. It is best that we forget what has happened--I must begin my work over again." He closed his lips firmly, there were lines of pain in his face. "That is," he added heavily, "if his excellency will permit me to remain here after this fiasco." "You will stay here?" Koyala asked incredulously. "Yes. And you, _juffrouw_?" A moment's silence. "My place is with my people--if you do not want me as hostage, _mynheer_?" Peter Gross took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. She trembled violently. "I have a better work for you, _juffrouw_," he said. Her eyes lifted slowly to meet his. There was mute interrogation in the glance. "To help me make Bulungan peaceful and prosperous," he said. Koyala shook herself free and walked toward the door. Peter Gross did not molest her. She stood on the threshold, one hesitating foot on the jungle path that led to the grove of big banyans. For some minutes she remained there. Then she slowly turned and reëntered the hut. "Mynheer Gross," she said, in a choking voice, "before I met you I believed that all the _orang blanda_ were vile. I hated the white blood that was in me, many times I yearned to take it from me, drop by drop, many times I stood on the edge of precipices undecided whether to let it nourish my body longer or no. Only one thing kept me from death, the thought that I might avenge the wrongs of my unhappy country and my unhappy mother." A stifled sob shook her. After a moment or two she resumed: "Then you came. I prayed the Hanu Token to send a young man, a young man who would desire me, after the manner of white men. When I saw you I knew you as the man of the Abbas, the man who had laughed, and I thought the Hanu Token had answered my prayer. I saved you from Wobanguli, I saved you from Ah Sing, that you might be mine, mine only to torture." Her voice broke again. "But you disappointed me. You were just, you were kind, righteous in all your dealings, considerate of me. You did not seek to take me in your arms, even when I came to you in your own dwelling. You did not taunt me with my mother like that pig, Van Slyck--" "He is dead," Peter Gross interrupted gently. "I have no sorrow for him. _Sangjang_ has waited over-long for him. Now you come to me, after all that has happened, and say: 'Koyala, will you forget and help me make Bulungan happy?' What shall I answer, _mynheer_?" She looked at him humbly, entreatingly. Peter Gross smiled, his familiar, confident, warming smile. "What your conscience dictates, Koyala." She breathed rapidly. At last came her answer, a low whisper. "If you wish it, I will help you, _mynheer_." Peter Gross reached out his hand and caught hers. "Then we're pards again," he cried. CHAPTER XXX THE GOVERNOR'S PROMISE Peter Gross had just concluded an account of his administration in Bulungan to Governor-General Van Schouten at the latter's _paleis_ in Batavia. The governor-general was frowning. "So! _mynheer_," he exclaimed gruffly. "This is not a very happy report you have brought me." Peter Gross bent his head. "No census, not a cent of taxes paid, piracy, murders, my _controlleurs_--God knows where they are, the whole province in revolt. This is a nice kettle of fish." Sachsen glanced sympathetically at Peter Gross. The lad he loved so well sat with bowed head and clenched hands, lines of suffering marked his face, he had grown older, oh, so much older, during those few sorry months since he had so confidently declared his policies for the regeneration of the residency in this very room. The governor was speaking again. "You said you would find Mynheer de Jonge's murderer for me," Van Schouten rasped. "Have you done that?" "Yes, your excellency. It was Kapitein Van Slyck who planned the deed, and Cho Seng who committed the act, pricked him with a upas thorn while he slept, as I told your excellency. Here are my proofs. A statement made by Mynheer Muller to Captain Carver and Lieutenant Banning before he died, and a statement made by Koyala to me." He gave the governor the documents. The latter scanned them briefly and laid them aside. "How did Muller come to his death?" he demanded. "Like a true servant of the state, fighting in defense of the fort," Peter Gross replied. "A splinter of a shell struck him in the body." "H-m!" the governor grunted. "I thought he was one of these traitors, too." "He expiated his crimes two weeks ago at Fort Wilhelmina, your excellency." "And Cho Seng?" the governor demanded. "Is he still alive?" "He fell on his own dagger." Peter Gross described the incident. "It was not the dagger thrust that killed him," he explained. "That made only a flesh wound. But the dagger point had been dipped in a cobra's venom." Softly he added: "He always feared that he would die from a snake's poison." "It is the judgment of God," Van Schouten pronounced solemnly. He looked at Peter Gross sharply. "Now this Koyala," he asked, "where is she?" "I do not know. In the hills, among her own people, I think. She will not trouble you again." The governor stared at his resident. Gradually the stern lines of his face relaxed and a quaintly humorous glint came into his eyes. "So, Mynheer Gross, the woman deceived you?" he asked sharply. Peter Gross made no reply. The governor's eyes twinkled. He suddenly brought down his fist on the table with a resounding bang. "_Donder en bliksem!_" he exclaimed, "I cannot find fault with you for that. The fault is mine. I should have known better. Why, when I was your age, a pretty woman could strip the very buttons from my dress coat--dammit, Mynheer Gross, you must have had a heart of ice to withstand her so long." He flourished a highly colored silk handkerchief and blew his nose lustily. "So you are forgiven on that count, Mynheer Gross. Now for the other. It appears that by your work you have created a much more favorable feeling toward us among many of the natives. The hill Dyaks did not rise against us as they have always done before, and some of the coast Dyak tribes were loyal. That buzzard, Lkath, stayed in his lair. Furthermore, you have solved the mysteries that have puzzled us for years and the criminals have been muzzled. Lastly, you were the honey that attracted all these piratical pests into Bulungan harbor where Kapitein Enckel was able to administer them a blow that will sweep those seas clear of this vermin for years to come, I believe. You have not done so badly after all, Mynheer Gross. Of course, you and your twenty-five men might have come to grief had not Sachsen, here, heard reports that caused me to send the _Prins Lodewyk_ post-haste to Bulungan, but we will overlook your too great confidence on the score of your youth." He chuckled. "Now as to the future." He paused and looked smilingly into the eyes that looked so gratefully into his. "What say you to two more years at Bulungan, _mynheer_, to straighten out affairs there, work out your policies, and finish what you have so ably begun?" "Your excellency is too good," Peter Gross murmured brokenly. "Good!" Van Schouten snapped. "_Donder en bliksem, mynheer_, it is only that I know a man when I see him. Can you go back next week?" "Yes, your excellency." "Then see that you do. And see to it that those devils send me some rice this year when the tax falls due or I will hang them all in the good, old-fashioned way." THE END [Illustration: The Big Fight] [Illustration: Capt. David Fallon M.C.] Few soldiers in this great war have been through adventures more thrilling, dramatic and perilous than fell to the lot of Captain David Fallon. He is a young Irishman whose first fighting was against the hillmen in their uprisings in India. He received the Indian Field Medal. The opening of the war found him physical instructor and bayonet drill master at the Royal Military College, Duntroon, New South Wales. He went through the entire, terrible Gallipoli campaign. He was in scores of fierce trench battles. He commanded a tank in an amazing war adventure. He has served as an aërial observer, spotted enemy positions and fought enemy aeroplanes. On the road to Thiepval with a shoulder smashed by shrapnel he remained in command of his men behind barricades made of the dead and for twenty-two hours held off the Germans until reinforcements arrived. On scout duty he frequently penetrated German trenches and gun positions in the night. A bomb duel with a German patrol when he was detected in their trenches brought him irreparable injury. He lay for three days in the mud of a shellhole in the enemy country with his right arm blasted, his upper jaw broken, his face and shoulders burned, but survived and managed to escape. He was awarded the Military Cross for daring and valuable service to his King. You will probably hear Captain Fallon lecture, but his book is something you will wish to keep. It is historical and every word rings true. THE WAR BOOK WITH A THRILL SPECIMEN CHAPTER CHAPTER XII "RAZZLE DAZZLE" It was at Beaumont-Hamel, about September 16th, that I got my chance to command a "tank." The dear girl was named "Razzle Dazzle." She was very young, having been in service only three months, but rather portly. Matter of fact, she weighed something over thirty tons. And in no way could you call the dear little woman pretty. She was a pallid gray and mud-splashed when I got her and there was no grace in the bulging curves of her steel shape. Or of her conical top. Or her ponderous wheels. The fact is that she showed every aspect of being a bad, scrappy old dearie. The minute I saw her in her lovely ugliness I knew she would like trouble and lots of it. Her metabolism was a marvel. She carried a six-hundred-horse-power motor. And out of her gray steel hoods protruded eight guns. An infernal old girl, you can bet she was. All ready to make battle in large quantities. When I boarded "Razzle Dazzle" she was full of dents. She had rocked around among several trench charges. But the reason for my assignment to her was prosaic. Her captain had not been killed. He was just sick--some stomach complaint. I was drafted on an hour's notice to the job, this, because of long training in handling rapid-fire guns. It was all new to me, but highly interesting. My crew consisted of seven men--five of them well experienced. And a black cat. Although she was a lady-cat she had been named "Joffre" and I can't tell you why because I never received any explanation on this point myself. But "Joffre" was very friendly and insisted on sitting either on my knee or shoulder from the moment I sealed myself and my men in the tank. We had our outlook from several periscopes above the turret and from spy holes in the turret itself. The order had come to me about one in the morning, and it was nearly three when we started lumbering out toward the enemy trenches. We had about six hundred yards to cover. I knew little or nothing of her motor power or speed. My concern was with the efficiency of the guns. She pumped and swayed "across No Man's Land" at about four miles an hour. She groaned and tossed a great deal. And in fact, made such poor progress that my regiment, the Oxfords and Bucks, beat the old dearie to the enemy lines. Our men were among the barbed wire of the first line, fighting it, cutting it, knocking it down before the old "Razzle Dazzle" got into action. But she "carried on" just the same. And when she smote the barbed-wire obstacles, she murdered them. She crushed those barriers to what looked like messes of steel spaghetti. Instead of sinking into trenches as I feared she would, she crushed them and continued to move forward. Of course, we were letting go everything we had, and from my observation hole, I could see the Germans didn't like it. They had put up something of a stand against the infantry. But against the tank they were quick to make their farewells. It was a still black night, but under the star-shells we could see them scurrying out of our way. This was very sensible of them because we were certainly making a clean sweep of everything in sight and had the earth ahead throwing up chocolate showers of spray as if the ground we rode was an angry sea of mud. Every man in the tank was shouting and yelling with the excitement of the thing and we were tossed up against each other like loosened peas in a pod. Only Joffre remained perfectly cool. Somehow she maintained a firm seat on my swaying shoulder and as I glanced around to peer at her she was calmly licking a paw and then daintily wiped her face. Suddenly out of a very clever camouflage of tree branches and shrubbery a German machine-gun emplacement was revealed. The bullets stormed and rattled upon the tank. But they did themselves a bad turn by revealing their whereabouts, for we made straight for the camouflage and went over that battery of machine guns, crunching its concrete foundation as if it were chalk. [Illustration: "British blood is calling British blood"] Then we turned about and from our new position put the Germans under an enfilade fire that we kept up until every evidence was at hand that the Oxfords and Bucks and supporting battalions were holding the trenches. But this was only preliminary work cut out for the tank to do. I had special instructions and a main objective. This was a sugar refinery. It was a one-storied building of brick and wood with a tiled roof. It had been established as a sugar refinery by the Germans before the war and when this occasion arose blossomed as a fortress with a gun aimed out of every window. To allow it to remain standing in hostile hands would mean that the trenches we had won could be constantly battered. Its removal was most desirable. To send infantry against it would have involved huge losses in life. The tank was deemed the right weapon. It was. [Illustration: Cleaning Mills bombs] And largely because "Razzle Dazzle" took matters into her own hands. The truth is she ran away. We rocked and plowed out of the trenches and went swaying toward the refinery. I ordered the round-top sealed. And we beat the refinery to the attack with our guns. But they had seen us coming and every window facing our way developed a working gun. There were about sixteen such windows. They all blazed at us. My notion had been to circle the "sugar mill", with "Razzle Dazzle" and shoot it up from all sides. We were getting frightfully rapped by the enemy fire, but there was apparently nothing heavy enough to split the skin of the wild, old girl. Our own fire was effective. We knocked out all the windows and the red-tiled roof was sagging. As I say, my notion was to circle the "mill" and I gave orders accordingly. But the "Razzle Dazzle's" chauffeur looked at me in distress. "The steering gear's off, sir," said he. "Stop her then and we'll let them have it from here," I ordered. He made several frantic motions with the mechanism and said: "I can't stop her, either." And the "Razzle Dazzle" carried out her own idea of attack. She banged head-on into the "mill." She went right through a wide doorway, making splinters of the door, she knocked against concrete pillars, supports and walls, smashing everything in her way and bowled out of the other side just as the roof crashed in and apparently crushed and smothered all the artillery men beneath it. On the way through, the big, powerful old girl bucked and rocked and reared until we men and the black cat inside her were thrown again and again into a jumble, the cat scratching us like a devil in her frenzy of fear. Closed up in the tank as we were, we could hear the roar and crash of the falling "mill," and from my observation port-hole I could observe that it was most complete. The place had been reduced to a mere heap. Not a shot came out of it at us. But still the "Razzle Dazzle" was having her own way. Her motorist was signaling me that he had no control of her. This was cheerful intelligence because right ahead was a huge shell crater. She might slide into it and climb up the other side and out. I hoped so. But she didn't. She hit the bottom of the pit, tried to push her way up and out, fell back, panted, pushed up again, fell back and then just stuck at the bottom of the well, throbbing and moaning and maybe penitent for her recklessness. Penitence wasn't to do her any good. It wasn't five minutes later when the Germans had the range of her and began smashing us with big shells. I ordered my men to abandon her and led them in a rush out of the crater and into small shell holes until the storm of fire was past. When it was, "Razzle Dazzle" was a wreck. She was cracked, distorted and shapeless. But the runaway engine was still plainly to be heard throbbing. Finally a last big shell sailed into the doughty tank and there was a loud bang and a flare. Her oil reservoir shot up in an enormous blaze. "Razzle Dazzle" was no more. But she had accounted for the "refinery." And our infantry had done the rest. The German position was ours. I was all enthusiasm for fighting "tanks." But my superiors squelched it. For when I asked for command of a sister of "Razzle Dazzle" next day, a cold-eyed aide said to me: "One tank, worth ten thousand pounds, is as much as any bally young officer may expect to be given to destroy during his lifetime. Good afternoon." He never gave me a chance to explain that it was "Razzle Dazzle's" own fault, how she had taken things into her own willful control. But he did try to give me credit for what "Razzle Dazzle" had herself accomplished. He said the destruction of the "sugar mill" had been "fine work." I wonder what "Joffre" thought of it all. I don't remember seeing her when we fled from the "tank," except as something incredibly swift and black flashed past my eyes as we thrust up the lid. I sincerely hope she is alive and well "somewhere in France." "THE BIG FIGHT" is over 300 pages long and is the most interesting of war books. Some books are made to read and forget; others to read and to keep. "THE BIG FIGHT" belongs to the latter class. Why not order a copy to-day? [Illustration: In the supports, waiting to advance] [Illustration: The Military Cross] 
720	----	Transcribed from the 1915 T. Fisher Unwin Ltd. edition by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk ALMAYER'S FOLLY: A STORY OF AN EASTERN RIVER by Joseph Conrad Qui de nous n'a eu sa terre promise, son jour d'extase et sa fin en exil?--AMIEL. _LONDON_: T. FISHER UNWIN, LTD. ADELPHI TERRACE _First Edition_ . . . 1895 _Second Impression_, 1907 _Third_ ,, 1914 _Fourth_ ,, 1915 To the memory of T. B. CHAPTER I. "Kaspar! Makan!" The well-known shrill voice startled Almayer from his dream of splendid future into the unpleasant realities of the present hour. An unpleasant voice too. He had heard it for many years, and with every year he liked it less. No matter; there would be an end to all this soon. He shuffled uneasily, but took no further notice of the call. Leaning with both his elbows on the balustrade of the verandah, he went on looking fixedly at the great river that flowed--indifferent and hurried--before his eyes. He liked to look at it about the time of sunset; perhaps because at that time the sinking sun would spread a glowing gold tinge on the waters of the Pantai, and Almayer's thoughts were often busy with gold; gold he had failed to secure; gold the others had secured--dishonestly, of course--or gold he meant to secure yet, through his own honest exertions, for himself and Nina. He absorbed himself in his dream of wealth and power away from this coast where he had dwelt for so many years, forgetting the bitterness of toil and strife in the vision of a great and splendid reward. They would live in Europe, he and his daughter. They would be rich and respected. Nobody would think of her mixed blood in the presence of her great beauty and of his immense wealth. Witnessing her triumphs he would grow young again, he would forget the twenty-five years of heart-breaking struggle on this coast where he felt like a prisoner. All this was nearly within his reach. Let only Dain return! And return soon he must--in his own interest, for his own share. He was now more than a week late! Perhaps he would return to-night. Such were Almayer's thoughts as, standing on the verandah of his new but already decaying house--that last failure of his life--he looked on the broad river. There was no tinge of gold on it this evening, for it had been swollen by the rains, and rolled an angry and muddy flood under his inattentive eyes, carrying small drift-wood and big dead logs, and whole uprooted trees with branches and foliage, amongst which the water swirled and roared angrily. One of those drifting trees grounded on the shelving shore, just by the house, and Almayer, neglecting his dream, watched it with languid interest. The tree swung slowly round, amid the hiss and foam of the water, and soon getting free of the obstruction began to move down stream again, rolling slowly over, raising upwards a long, denuded branch, like a hand lifted in mute appeal to heaven against the river's brutal and unnecessary violence. Almayer's interest in the fate of that tree increased rapidly. He leaned over to see if it would clear the low point below. It did; then he drew back, thinking that now its course was free down to the sea, and he envied the lot of that inanimate thing now growing small and indistinct in the deepening darkness. As he lost sight of it altogether he began to wonder how far out to sea it would drift. Would the current carry it north or south? South, probably, till it drifted in sight of Celebes, as far as Macassar, perhaps! Macassar! Almayer's quickened fancy distanced the tree on its imaginary voyage, but his memory lagging behind some twenty years or more in point of time saw a young and slim Almayer, clad all in white and modest-looking, landing from the Dutch mail-boat on the dusty jetty of Macassar, coming to woo fortune in the godowns of old Hudig. It was an important epoch in his life, the beginning of a new existence for him. His father, a subordinate official employed in the Botanical Gardens of Buitenzorg, was no doubt delighted to place his son in such a firm. The young man himself too was nothing loth to leave the poisonous shores of Java, and the meagre comforts of the parental bungalow, where the father grumbled all day at the stupidity of native gardeners, and the mother from the depths of her long easy-chair bewailed the lost glories of Amsterdam, where she had been brought up, and of her position as the daughter of a cigar dealer there. Almayer had left his home with a light heart and a lighter pocket, speaking English well, and strong in arithmetic; ready to conquer the world, never doubting that he would. After those twenty years, standing in the close and stifling heat of a Bornean evening, he recalled with pleasurable regret the image of Hudig's lofty and cool warehouses with their long and straight avenues of gin cases and bales of Manchester goods; the big door swinging noiselessly; the dim light of the place, so delightful after the glare of the streets; the little railed-off spaces amongst piles of merchandise where the Chinese clerks, neat, cool, and sad-eyed, wrote rapidly and in silence amidst the din of the working gangs rolling casks or shifting cases to a muttered song, ending with a desperate yell. At the upper end, facing the great door, there was a larger space railed off, well lighted; there the noise was subdued by distance, and above it rose the soft and continuous clink of silver guilders which other discreet Chinamen were counting and piling up under the supervision of Mr. Vinck, the cashier, the genius presiding in the place--the right hand of the Master. In that clear space Almayer worked at his table not far from a little green painted door, by which always stood a Malay in a red sash and turban, and whose hand, holding a small string dangling from above, moved up and down with the regularity of a machine. The string worked a punkah on the other side of the green door, where the so-called private office was, and where old Hudig--the Master--sat enthroned, holding noisy receptions. Sometimes the little door would fly open disclosing to the outer world, through the bluish haze of tobacco smoke, a long table loaded with bottles of various shapes and tall water-pitchers, rattan easy-chairs occupied by noisy men in sprawling attitudes, while the Master would put his head through and, holding by the handle, would grunt confidentially to Vinck; perhaps send an order thundering down the warehouse, or spy a hesitating stranger and greet him with a friendly roar, "Welgome, Gapitan! ver' you gome vrom? Bali, eh? Got bonies? I vant bonies! Vant all you got; ha! ha! ha! Gome in!" Then the stranger was dragged in, in a tempest of yells, the door was shut, and the usual noises refilled the place; the song of the workmen, the rumble of barrels, the scratch of rapid pens; while above all rose the musical chink of broad silver pieces streaming ceaselessly through the yellow fingers of the attentive Chinamen. At that time Macassar was teeming with life and commerce. It was the point in the islands where tended all those bold spirits who, fitting out schooners on the Australian coast, invaded the Malay Archipelago in search of money and adventure. Bold, reckless, keen in business, not disinclined for a brush with the pirates that were to be found on many a coast as yet, making money fast, they used to have a general "rendezvous" in the bay for purposes of trade and dissipation. The Dutch merchants called those men English pedlars; some of them were undoubtedly gentlemen for whom that kind of life had a charm; most were seamen; the acknowledged king of them all was Tom Lingard, he whom the Malays, honest or dishonest, quiet fishermen or desperate cut-throats, recognised as "the Rajah-Laut"--the King of the Sea. Almayer had heard of him before he had been three days in Macassar, had heard the stories of his smart business transactions, his loves, and also of his desperate fights with the Sulu pirates, together with the romantic tale of some child--a girl--found in a piratical prau by the victorious Lingard, when, after a long contest, he boarded the craft, driving the crew overboard. This girl, it was generally known, Lingard had adopted, was having her educated in some convent in Java, and spoke of her as "my daughter." He had sworn a mighty oath to marry her to a white man before he went home and to leave her all his money. "And Captain Lingard has lots of money," would say Mr. Vinck solemnly, with his head on one side, "lots of money; more than Hudig!" And after a pause--just to let his hearers recover from their astonishment at such an incredible assertion--he would add in an explanatory whisper, "You know, he has discovered a river." That was it! He had discovered a river! That was the fact placing old Lingard so much above the common crowd of sea-going adventurers who traded with Hudig in the daytime and drank champagne, gambled, sang noisy songs, and made love to half-caste girls under the broad verandah of the Sunda Hotel at night. Into that river, whose entrances himself only knew, Lingard used to take his assorted cargo of Manchester goods, brass gongs, rifles and gunpowder. His brig _Flash_, which he commanded himself, would on those occasions disappear quietly during the night from the roadstead while his companions were sleeping off the effects of the midnight carouse, Lingard seeing them drunk under the table before going on board, himself unaffected by any amount of liquor. Many tried to follow him and find that land of plenty for gutta-percha and rattans, pearl shells and birds' nests, wax and gum-dammar, but the little _Flash_ could outsail every craft in those seas. A few of them came to grief on hidden sandbanks and coral reefs, losing their all and barely escaping with life from the cruel grip of this sunny and smiling sea; others got discouraged; and for many years the green and peaceful-looking islands guarding the entrances to the promised land kept their secret with all the merciless serenity of tropical nature. And so Lingard came and went on his secret or open expeditions, becoming a hero in Almayer's eyes by the boldness and enormous profits of his ventures, seeming to Almayer a very great man indeed as he saw him marching up the warehouse, grunting a "how are you?" to Vinck, or greeting Hudig, the Master, with a boisterous "Hallo, old pirate! Alive yet?" as a preliminary to transacting business behind the little green door. Often of an evening, in the silence of the then deserted warehouse, Almayer putting away his papers before driving home with Mr. Vinck, in whose household he lived, would pause listening to the noise of a hot discussion in the private office, would hear the deep and monotonous growl of the Master, and the roared-out interruptions of Lingard--two mastiffs fighting over a marrowy bone. But to Almayer's ears it sounded like a quarrel of Titans--a battle of the gods. After a year or so Lingard, having been brought often in contact with Almayer in the course of business, took a sudden and, to the onlookers, a rather inexplicable fancy to the young man. He sang his praises, late at night, over a convivial glass to his cronies in the Sunda Hotel, and one fine morning electrified Vinck by declaring that he must have "that young fellow for a supercargo. Kind of captain's clerk. Do all my quill-driving for me." Hudig consented. Almayer, with youth's natural craving for change, was nothing loth, and packing his few belongings, started in the _Flash_ on one of those long cruises when the old seaman was wont to visit almost every island in the archipelago. Months slipped by, and Lingard's friendship seemed to increase. Often pacing the deck with Almayer, when the faint night breeze, heavy with aromatic exhalations of the islands, shoved the brig gently along under the peaceful and sparkling sky, did the old seaman open his heart to his entranced listener. He spoke of his past life, of escaped dangers, of big profits in his trade, of new combinations that were in the future to bring profits bigger still. Often he had mentioned his daughter, the girl found in the pirate prau, speaking of her with a strange assumption of fatherly tenderness. "She must be a big girl now," he used to say. "It's nigh unto four years since I have seen her! Damme, Almayer, if I don't think we will run into Sourabaya this trip." And after such a declaration he always dived into his cabin muttering to himself, "Something must be done--must be done." More than once he would astonish Almayer by walking up to him rapidly, clearing his throat with a powerful "Hem!" as if he was going to say something, and then turning abruptly away to lean over the bulwarks in silence, and watch, motionless, for hours, the gleam and sparkle of the phosphorescent sea along the ship's side. It was the night before arriving in Sourabaya when one of those attempts at confidential communication succeeded. After clearing his throat he spoke. He spoke to some purpose. He wanted Almayer to marry his adopted daughter. "And don't you kick because you're white!" he shouted, suddenly, not giving the surprised young man the time to say a word. "None of that with me! Nobody will see the colour of your wife's skin. The dollars are too thick for that, I tell you! And mind you, they will be thicker yet before I die. There will be millions, Kaspar! Millions I say! And all for her--and for you, if you do what you are told." Startled by the unexpected proposal, Almayer hesitated, and remained silent for a minute. He was gifted with a strong and active imagination, and in that short space of time he saw, as in a flash of dazzling light, great piles of shining guilders, and realised all the possibilities of an opulent existence. The consideration, the indolent ease of life--for which he felt himself so well fitted--his ships, his warehouses, his merchandise (old Lingard would not live for ever), and, crowning all, in the far future gleamed like a fairy palace the big mansion in Amsterdam, that earthly paradise of his dreams, where, made king amongst men by old Lingard's money, he would pass the evening of his days in inexpressible splendour. As to the other side of the picture--the companionship for life of a Malay girl, that legacy of a boatful of pirates--there was only within him a confused consciousness of shame that he a white man--Still, a convent education of four years!--and then she may mercifully die. He was always lucky, and money is powerful! Go through it. Why not? He had a vague idea of shutting her up somewhere, anywhere, out of his gorgeous future. Easy enough to dispose of a Malay woman, a slave, after all, to his Eastern mind, convent or no convent, ceremony or no ceremony. He lifted his head and confronted the anxious yet irate seaman. "I--of course--anything you wish, Captain Lingard." "Call me father, my boy. She does," said the mollified old adventurer. "Damme, though, if I didn't think you were going to refuse. Mind you, Kaspar, I always get my way, so it would have been no use. But you are no fool." He remembered well that time--the look, the accent, the words, the effect they produced on him, his very surroundings. He remembered the narrow slanting deck of the brig, the silent sleeping coast, the smooth black surface of the sea with a great bar of gold laid on it by the rising moon. He remembered it all, and he remembered his feelings of mad exultation at the thought of that fortune thrown into his hands. He was no fool then, and he was no fool now. Circumstances had been against him; the fortune was gone, but hope remained. He shivered in the night air, and suddenly became aware of the intense darkness which, on the sun's departure, had closed in upon the river, blotting out the outlines of the opposite shore. Only the fire of dry branches lit outside the stockade of the Rajah's compound called fitfully into view the ragged trunks of the surrounding trees, putting a stain of glowing red half-way across the river where the drifting logs were hurrying towards the sea through the impenetrable gloom. He had a hazy recollection of having been called some time during the evening by his wife. To his dinner probably. But a man busy contemplating the wreckage of his past in the dawn of new hopes cannot be hungry whenever his rice is ready. Time he went home, though; it was getting late. He stepped cautiously on the loose planks towards the ladder. A lizard, disturbed by the noise, emitted a plaintive note and scurried through the long grass growing on the bank. Almayer descended the ladder carefully, now thoroughly recalled to the realities of life by the care necessary to prevent a fall on the uneven ground where the stones, decaying planks, and half-sawn beams were piled up in inextricable confusion. As he turned towards the house where he lived--"my old house" he called it--his ear detected the splash of paddles away in the darkness of the river. He stood still in the path, attentive and surprised at anybody being on the river at this late hour during such a heavy freshet. Now he could hear the paddles distinctly, and even a rapidly exchanged word in low tones, the heavy breathing of men fighting with the current, and hugging the bank on which he stood. Quite close, too, but it was too dark to distinguish anything under the overhanging bushes. "Arabs, no doubt," muttered Almayer to himself, peering into the solid blackness. "What are they up to now? Some of Abdulla's business; curse him!" The boat was very close now. "Oh, ya! Man!" hailed Almayer. The sound of voices ceased, but the paddles worked as furiously as before. Then the bush in front of Almayer shook, and the sharp sound of the paddles falling into the canoe rang in the quiet night. They were holding on to the bush now; but Almayer could hardly make out an indistinct dark shape of a man's head and shoulders above the bank. "You Abdulla?" said Almayer, doubtfully. A grave voice answered-- "Tuan Almayer is speaking to a friend. There is no Arab here." Almayer's heart gave a great leap. "Dain!" he exclaimed. "At last! at last! I have been waiting for you every day and every night. I had nearly given you up." "Nothing could have stopped me from coming back here," said the other, almost violently. "Not even death," he whispered to himself. "This is a friend's talk, and is very good," said Almayer, heartily. "But you are too far here. Drop down to the jetty and let your men cook their rice in my campong while we talk in the house." There was no answer to that invitation. "What is it?" asked Almayer, uneasily. "There is nothing wrong with the brig, I hope?" "The brig is where no Orang Blanda can lay his hands on her," said Dain, with a gloomy tone in his voice, which Almayer, in his elation, failed to notice. "Right," he said. "But where are all your men? There are only two with you." "Listen, Tuan Almayer," said Dain. "To-morrow's sun shall see me in your house, and then we will talk. Now I must go to the Rajah." "To the Rajah! Why? What do you want with Lakamba?" "Tuan, to-morrow we talk like friends. I must see Lakamba to-night." "Dain, you are not going to abandon me now, when all is ready?" asked Almayer, in a pleading voice. "Have I not returned? But I must see Lakamba first for your good and mine." The shadowy head disappeared abruptly. The bush, released from the grasp of the bowman, sprung back with a swish, scattering a shower of muddy water over Almayer, as he bent forward, trying to see. In a little while the canoe shot into the streak of light that streamed on the river from the big fire on the opposite shore, disclosing the outline of two men bending to their work, and a third figure in the stern flourishing the steering paddle, his head covered with an enormous round hat, like a fantastically exaggerated mushroom. Almayer watched the canoe till it passed out of the line of light. Shortly after the murmur of many voices reached him across the water. He could see the torches being snatched out of the burning pile, and rendering visible for a moment the gate in the stockade round which they crowded. Then they went in apparently. The torches disappeared, and the scattered fire sent out only a dim and fitful glare. Almayer stepped homewards with long strides and mind uneasy. Surely Dain was not thinking of playing him false. It was absurd. Dain and Lakamba were both too much interested in the success of his scheme. Trusting to Malays was poor work; but then even Malays have some sense and understand their own interest. All would be well--must be well. At this point in his meditation he found himself at the foot of the steps leading to the verandah of his home. From the low point of land where he stood he could see both branches of the river. The main branch of the Pantai was lost in complete darkness, for the fire at the Rajah's had gone out altogether; but up the Sambir reach his eye could follow the long line of Malay houses crowding the bank, with here and there a dim light twinkling through bamboo walls, or a smoky torch burning on the platforms built out over the river. Further away, where the island ended in a low cliff, rose a dark mass of buildings towering above the Malay structures. Founded solidly on a firm ground with plenty of space, starred by many lights burning strong and white, with a suggestion of paraffin and lamp- glasses, stood the house and the godowns of Abdulla bin Selim, the great trader of Sambir. To Almayer the sight was very distasteful, and he shook his fist towards the buildings that in their evident prosperity looked to him cold and insolent, and contemptuous of his own fallen fortunes. He mounted the steps of his house slowly. In the middle of the verandah there was a round table. On it a paraffin lamp without a globe shed a hard glare on the three inner sides. The fourth side was open, and faced the river. Between the rough supports of the high-pitched roof hung torn rattan screens. There was no ceiling, and the harsh brilliance of the lamp was toned above into a soft half- light that lost itself in the obscurity amongst the rafters. The front wall was cut in two by the doorway of a central passage closed by a red curtain. The women's room opened into that passage, which led to the back courtyard and to the cooking shed. In one of the side walls there was a doorway. Half obliterated words--"Office: Lingard and Co."--were still legible on the dusty door, which looked as if it had not been opened for a very long time. Close to the other side wall stood a bent- wood rocking-chair, and by the table and about the verandah four wooden armchairs straggled forlornly, as if ashamed of their shabby surroundings. A heap of common mats lay in one corner, with an old hammock slung diagonally above. In the other corner, his head wrapped in a piece of red calico, huddled into a shapeless heap, slept a Malay, one of Almayer's domestic slaves--"my own people," he used to call them. A numerous and representative assembly of moths were holding high revels round the lamp to the spirited music of swarming mosquitoes. Under the palm-leaf thatch lizards raced on the beams calling softly. A monkey, chained to one of the verandah supports--retired for the night under the eaves--peered and grinned at Almayer, as it swung to one of the bamboo roof sticks and caused a shower of dust and bits of dried leaves to settle on the shabby table. The floor was uneven, with many withered plants and dried earth scattered about. A general air of squalid neglect pervaded the place. Great red stains on the floor and walls testified to frequent and indiscriminate betel-nut chewing. The light breeze from the river swayed gently the tattered blinds, sending from the woods opposite a faint and sickly perfume as of decaying flowers. Under Almayer's heavy tread the boards of the verandah creaked loudly. The sleeper in the corner moved uneasily, muttering indistinct words. There was a slight rustle behind the curtained doorway, and a soft voice asked in Malay, "Is it you, father?" "Yes, Nina. I am hungry. Is everybody asleep in this house?" Almayer spoke jovially and dropped with a contented sigh into the armchair nearest to the table. Nina Almayer came through the curtained doorway followed by an old Malay woman, who busied herself in setting upon the table a plateful of rice and fish, a jar of water, and a bottle half full of genever. After carefully placing before her master a cracked glass tumbler and a tin spoon she went away noiselessly. Nina stood by the table, one hand lightly resting on its edge, the other hanging listlessly by her side. Her face turned towards the outer darkness, through which her dreamy eyes seemed to see some entrancing picture, wore a look of impatient expectancy. She was tall for a half- caste, with the correct profile of the father, modified and strengthened by the squareness of the lower part of the face inherited from her maternal ancestors--the Sulu pirates. Her firm mouth, with the lips slightly parted and disclosing a gleam of white teeth, put a vague suggestion of ferocity into the impatient expression of her features. And yet her dark and perfect eyes had all the tender softness of expression common to Malay women, but with a gleam of superior intelligence; they looked gravely, wide open and steady, as if facing something invisible to all other eyes, while she stood there all in white, straight, flexible, graceful, unconscious of herself, her low but broad forehead crowned with a shining mass of long black hair that fell in heavy tresses over her shoulders, and made her pale olive complexion look paler still by the contrast of its coal-black hue. Almayer attacked his rice greedily, but after a few mouthfuls he paused, spoon in hand, and looked at his daughter curiously. "Did you hear a boat pass about half an hour ago Nina?" he asked. The girl gave him a quick glance, and moving away from the light stood with her back to the table. "No," she said, slowly. "There was a boat. At last! Dain himself; and he went on to Lakamba. I know it, for he told me so. I spoke to him, but he would not come here to-night. Will come to-morrow, he said." He swallowed another spoonful, then said-- "I am almost happy to-night, Nina. I can see the end of a long road, and it leads us away from this miserable swamp. We shall soon get away from here, I and you, my dear little girl, and then--" He rose from the table and stood looking fixedly before him as if contemplating some enchanting vision. "And then," he went on, "we shall be happy, you and I. Live rich and respected far from here, and forget this life, and all this struggle, and all this misery!" He approached his daughter and passed his hand caressingly over her hair. "It is bad to have to trust a Malay," he said, "but I must own that this Dain is a perfect gentleman--a perfect gentleman," he repeated. "Did you ask him to come here, father?" inquired Nina, not looking at him. "Well, of course. We shall start on the day after to-morrow," said Almayer, joyously. "We must not lose any time. Are you glad, little girl?" She was nearly as tall as himself, but he liked to recall the time when she was little and they were all in all to each other. "I am glad," she said, very low. "Of course," said Almayer, vivaciously, "you cannot imagine what is before you. I myself have not been to Europe, but I have heard my mother talk so often that I seem to know all about it. We shall live a--a glorious life. You shall see." Again he stood silent by his daughter's side looking at that enchanting vision. After a while he shook his clenched hand towards the sleeping settlement. "Ah! my friend Abdulla," he cried, "we shall see who will have the best of it after all these years!" He looked up the river and remarked calmly: "Another thunderstorm. Well! No thunder will keep me awake to-night, I know! Good-night, little girl," he whispered, tenderly kissing her cheek. "You do not seem to be very happy to-night, but to-morrow you will show a brighter face. Eh?" Nina had listened to her father with her face unmoved, with her half-closed eyes still gazing into the night now made more intense by a heavy thunder-cloud that had crept down from the hills blotting out the stars, merging sky, forest, and river into one mass of almost palpable blackness. The faint breeze had died out, but the distant rumble of thunder and pale flashes of lightning gave warning of the approaching storm. With a sigh the girl turned towards the table. Almayer was in his hammock now, already half asleep. "Take the lamp, Nina," he muttered, drowsily. "This place is full of mosquitoes. Go to sleep, daughter." But Nina put the lamp out and turned back again towards the balustrade of the verandah, standing with her arm round the wooden support and looking eagerly towards the Pantai reach. And motionless there in the oppressive calm of the tropical night she could see at each flash of lightning the forest lining both banks up the river, bending before the furious blast of the coming tempest, the upper reach of the river whipped into white foam by the wind, and the black clouds torn into fantastic shapes trailing low over the swaying trees. Round her all was as yet stillness and peace, but she could hear afar off the roar of the wind, the hiss of heavy rain, the wash of the waves on the tormented river. It came nearer and nearer, with loud thunder-claps and long flashes of vivid lightning, followed by short periods of appalling blackness. When the storm reached the low point dividing the river, the house shook in the wind, and the rain pattered loudly on the palm-leaf roof, the thunder spoke in one prolonged roll, and the incessant lightning disclosed a turmoil of leaping waters, driving logs, and the big trees bending before a brutal and merciless force. Undisturbed by the nightly event of the rainy monsoon, the father slept quietly, oblivious alike of his hopes, his misfortunes, his friends, and his enemies; and the daughter stood motionless, at each flash of lightning eagerly scanning the broad river with a steady and anxious gaze. CHAPTER II. When, in compliance with Lingard's abrupt demand, Almayer consented to wed the Malay girl, no one knew that on the day when the interesting young convert had lost all her natural relations and found a white father, she had been fighting desperately like the rest of them on board the prau, and was only prevented from leaping overboard, like the few other survivors, by a severe wound in the leg. There, on the fore-deck of the prau, old Lingard found her under a heap of dead and dying pirates, and had her carried on the poop of the _Flash_ before the Malay craft was set on fire and sent adrift. She was conscious, and in the great peace and stillness of the tropical evening succeeding the turmoil of the battle, she watched all she held dear on earth after her own savage manner, drift away into the gloom in a great roar of flame and smoke. She lay there unheeding the careful hands attending to her wound, silent and absorbed in gazing at the funeral pile of those brave men she had so much admired and so well helped in their contest with the redoubtable "Rajah-Laut." * * * * * The light night breeze fanned the brig gently to the southward, and the great blaze of light got smaller and smaller till it twinkled only on the horizon like a setting star. It set: the heavy canopy of smoke reflected the glare of hidden flames for a short time and then disappeared also. She realised that with this vanishing gleam her old life departed too. Thenceforth there was slavery in the far countries, amongst strangers, in unknown and perhaps terrible surroundings. Being fourteen years old, she realised her position and came to that conclusion, the only one possible to a Malay girl, soon ripened under a tropical sun, and not unaware of her personal charms, of which she heard many a young brave warrior of her father's crew express an appreciative admiration. There was in her the dread of the unknown; otherwise she accepted her position calmly, after the manner of her people, and even considered it quite natural; for was she not a daughter of warriors, conquered in battle, and did she not belong rightfully to the victorious Rajah? Even the evident kindness of the terrible old man must spring, she thought, from admiration for his captive, and the flattered vanity eased for her the pangs of sorrow after such an awful calamity. Perhaps had she known of the high walls, the quiet gardens, and the silent nuns of the Samarang convent, where her destiny was leading her, she would have sought death in her dread and hate of such a restraint. But in imagination she pictured to herself the usual life of a Malay girl--the usual succession of heavy work and fierce love, of intrigues, gold ornaments, of domestic drudgery, and of that great but occult influence which is one of the few rights of half-savage womankind. But her destiny in the rough hands of the old sea-dog, acting under unreasoning impulses of the heart, took a strange and to her a terrible shape. She bore it all--the restraint and the teaching and the new faith--with calm submission, concealing her hate and contempt for all that new life. She learned the language very easily, yet understood but little of the new faith the good sisters taught her, assimilating quickly only the superstitious elements of the religion. She called Lingard father, gently and caressingly, at each of his short and noisy visits, under the clear impression that he was a great and dangerous power it was good to propitiate. Was he not now her master? And during those long four years she nourished a hope of finding favour in his eyes and ultimately becoming his wife, counsellor, and guide. Those dreams of the future were dispelled by the Rajah Laut's "fiat," which made Almayer's fortune, as that young man fondly hoped. And dressed in the hateful finery of Europe, the centre of an interested circle of Batavian society, the young convert stood before the altar with an unknown and sulky-looking white man. For Almayer was uneasy, a little disgusted, and greatly inclined to run away. A judicious fear of the adopted father-in-law and a just regard for his own material welfare prevented him from making a scandal; yet, while swearing fidelity, he was concocting plans for getting rid of the pretty Malay girl in a more or less distant future. She, however, had retained enough of conventual teaching to understand well that according to white men's laws she was going to be Almayer's companion and not his slave, and promised to herself to act accordingly. So when the _Flash_ freighted with materials for building a new house left the harbour of Batavia, taking away the young couple into the unknown Borneo, she did not carry on her deck so much love and happiness as old Lingard was wont to boast of before his casual friends in the verandahs of various hotels. The old seaman himself was perfectly happy. Now he had done his duty by the girl. "You know I made her an orphan," he often concluded solemnly, when talking about his own affairs to a scratch audience of shore loafers--as it was his habit to do. And the approbative shouts of his half-intoxicated auditors filled his simple soul with delight and pride. "I carry everything right through," was another of his sayings, and in pursuance of that principle he pushed the building of house and godowns on the Pantai River with feverish haste. The house for the young couple; the godowns for the big trade Almayer was going to develop while he (Lingard) would be able to give himself up to some mysterious work which was only spoken of in hints, but was understood to relate to gold and diamonds in the interior of the island. Almayer was impatient too. Had he known what was before him he might not have been so eager and full of hope as he stood watching the last canoe of the Lingard expedition disappear in the bend up the river. When, turning round, he beheld the pretty little house, the big godowns built neatly by an army of Chinese carpenters, the new jetty round which were clustered the trading canoes, he felt a sudden elation in the thought that the world was his. But the world had to be conquered first, and its conquest was not so easy as he thought. He was very soon made to understand that he was not wanted in that corner of it where old Lingard and his own weak will placed him, in the midst of unscrupulous intrigues and of a fierce trade competition. The Arabs had found out the river, had established a trading post in Sambir, and where they traded they would be masters and suffer no rival. Lingard returned unsuccessful from his first expedition, and departed again spending all the profits of the legitimate trade on his mysterious journeys. Almayer struggled with the difficulties of his position, friendless and unaided, save for the protection given to him for Lingard's sake by the old Rajah, the predecessor of Lakamba. Lakamba himself, then living as a private individual on a rice clearing, seven miles down the river, exercised all his influence towards the help of the white man's enemies, plotting against the old Rajah and Almayer with a certainty of combination, pointing clearly to a profound knowledge of their most secret affairs. Outwardly friendly, his portly form was often to be seen on Almayer's verandah; his green turban and gold-embroidered jacket shone in the front rank of the decorous throng of Malays coming to greet Lingard on his returns from the interior; his salaams were of the lowest, and his hand- shakings of the heartiest, when welcoming the old trader. But his small eyes took in the signs of the times, and he departed from those interviews with a satisfied and furtive smile to hold long consultations with his friend and ally, Syed Abdulla, the chief of the Arab trading post, a man of great wealth and of great influence in the islands. It was currently believed at that time in the settlement that Lakamba's visits to Almayer's house were not limited to those official interviews. Often on moonlight nights the belated fishermen of Sambira saw a small canoe shooting out from the narrow creek at the back of the white man's house, and the solitary occupant paddle cautiously down the river in the deep shadows of the bank; and those events, duly reported, were discussed round the evening fires far into the night with the cynicism of expression common to aristocratic Malays, and with a malicious pleasure in the domestic misfortunes of the Orang Blando--the hated Dutchman. Almayer went on struggling desperately, but with a feebleness of purpose depriving him of all chance of success against men so unscrupulous and resolute as his rivals the Arabs. The trade fell away from the large godowns, and the godowns themselves rotted piecemeal. The old man's banker, Hudig of Macassar, failed, and with this went the whole available capital. The profits of past years had been swallowed up in Lingard's exploring craze. Lingard was in the interior--perhaps dead--at all events giving no sign of life. Almayer stood alone in the midst of those adverse circumstances, deriving only a little comfort from the companionship of his little daughter, born two years after the marriage, and at the time some six years old. His wife had soon commenced to treat him with a savage contempt expressed by sulky silence, only occasionally varied by a flood of savage invective. He felt she hated him, and saw her jealous eyes watching himself and the child with almost an expression of hate. She was jealous of the little girl's evident preference for the father, and Almayer felt he was not safe with that woman in the house. While she was burning the furniture, and tearing down the pretty curtains in her unreasoning hate of those signs of civilisation, Almayer, cowed by these outbursts of savage nature, meditated in silence on the best way of getting rid of her. He thought of everything; even planned murder in an undecided and feeble sort of way, but dared do nothing--expecting every day the return of Lingard with news of some immense good fortune. He returned indeed, but aged, ill, a ghost of his former self, with the fire of fever burning in his sunken eyes, almost the only survivor of the numerous expedition. But he was successful at last! Untold riches were in his grasp; he wanted more money--only a little more torealise a dream of fabulous fortune. And Hudig had failed! Almayer scraped all he could together, but the old man wanted more. If Almayer could not get it he would go to Singapore--to Europe even, but before all to Singapore; and he would take the little Nina with him. The child must be brought up decently. He had good friends in Singapore who would take care of her and have her taught properly. All would be well, and that girl, upon whom the old seaman seemed to have transferred all his former affection for the mother, would be the richest woman in the East--in the world even. So old Lingard shouted, pacing the verandah with his heavy quarter- deck step, gesticulating with a smouldering cheroot; ragged, dishevelled, enthusiastic; and Almayer, sitting huddled up on a pile of mats, thought with dread of the separation with the only human being he loved--with greater dread still, perhaps, of the scene with his wife, the savage tigress deprived of her young. She will poison me, thought the poor wretch, well aware of that easy and final manner of solving the social, political, or family problems in Malay life. To his great surprise she took the news very quietly, giving only him and Lingard a furtive glance, and saying not a word. This, however, did not prevent her the next day from jumping into the river and swimming after the boat in which Lingard was carrying away the nurse with the screaming child. Almayer had to give chase with his whale-boat and drag her in by the hair in the midst of cries and curses enough to make heaven fall. Yet after two days spent in wailing, she returned to her former mode of life, chewing betel-nut, and sitting all day amongst her women in stupefied idleness. She aged very rapidly after that, and only roused herself from her apathy to acknowledge by a scathing remark or an insulting exclamation the accidental presence of her husband. He had built for her a riverside hut in the compound where she dwelt in perfect seclusion. Lakamba's visits had ceased when, by a convenient decree of Providence and the help of a little scientific manipulation, the old ruler of Sambir departed this life. Lakamba reigned in his stead now, having been well served by his Arab friends with the Dutch authorities. Syed Abdulla was the great man and trader of the Pantai. Almayer lay ruined and helpless under the close-meshed net of their intrigues, owing his life only to his supposed knowledge of Lingard's valuable secret. Lingard had disappeared. He wrote once from Singapore saying the child was well, and under the care of a Mrs. Vinck, and that he himself was going to Europe to raise money for the great enterprise. "He was coming back soon. There would be no difficulties," he wrote; "people would rush in with their money." Evidently they did not, for there was only one letter more from him saying he was ill, had found no relation living, but little else besides. Then came a complete silence. Europe had swallowed up the Rajah Laut apparently, and Almayer looked vainly westward for a ray of light out of the gloom of his shattered hopes. Years passed, and the rare letters from Mrs. Vinck, later on from the girl herself, were the only thing to be looked to to make life bearable amongst the triumphant savagery of the river. Almayer lived now alone, having even ceased to visit his debtors who would not pay, sure of Lakamba's protection. The faithful Sumatrese Ali cooked his rice and made his coffee, for he dared not trust any one else, and least of all his wife. He killed time wandering sadly in the overgrown paths round the house, visiting the ruined godowns where a few brass guns covered with verdigris and only a few broken cases of mouldering Manchester goods reminded him of the good early times when all this was full of life and merchandise, and he overlooked a busy scene on the river bank, his little daughter by his side. Now the up-country canoes glided past the little rotten wharf of Lingard and Co., to paddle up the Pantai branch, and cluster round the new jetty belonging to Abdulla. Not that they loved Abdulla, but they dared not trade with the man whose star had set. Had they done so they knew there was no mercy to be expected from Arab or Rajah; no rice to be got on credit in the times of scarcity from either; and Almayer could not help them, having at times hardly enough for himself. Almayer, in his isolation and despair, often envied his near neighbour the Chinaman, Jim- Eng, whom he could see stretched on a pile of cool mats, a wooden pillow under his head, an opium pipe in his nerveless fingers. He did not seek, however, consolation in opium--perhaps it was too expensive--perhaps his white man's pride saved him from that degradation; but most likely it was the thought of his little daughter in the far-off Straits Settlements. He heard from her oftener since Abdulla bought a steamer, which ran now between Singapore and the Pantai settlement every three months or so. Almayer felt himself nearer his daughter. He longed to see her, and planned a voyage to Singapore, but put off his departure from year to year, always expecting some favourable turn of fortune. He did not want to meet her with empty hands and with no words of hope on his lips. He could not take her back into that savage life to which he was condemned himself. He was also a little afraid of her. What would she think of him? He reckoned the years. A grown woman. A civilised woman, young and hopeful; while he felt old and hopeless, and very much like those savages round him. He asked himself what was going to be her future. He could not answer that question yet, and he dared not face her. And yet he longed after her. He hesitated for years. His hesitation was put an end to by Nina's unexpected appearance in Sambir. She arrived in the steamer under the captain's care. Almayer beheld her with surprise not unmixed with wonder. During those ten years the child had changed into a woman, black-haired, olive-skinned, tall, and beautiful, with great sad eyes, where the startled expression common to Malay womankind was modified by a thoughtful tinge inherited from her European ancestry. Almayer thought with dismay of the meeting of his wife and daughter, of what this grave girl in European clothes would think of her betel-nut chewing mother, squatting in a dark hut, disorderly, half naked, and sulky. He also feared an outbreak of temper on the part of that pest of a woman he had hitherto managed to keep tolerably quiet, thereby saving the remnants of his dilapidated furniture. And he stood there before the closed door of the hut in the blazing sunshine listening to the murmur of voices, wondering what went on inside, wherefrom all the servant-maids had been expelled at the beginning of the interview, and now stood clustered by the palings with half-covered faces in a chatter of curious speculation. He forgot himself there trying to catch a stray word through the bamboo walls, till the captain of the steamer, who had walked up with the girl, fearing a sunstroke, took him under the arm and led him into the shade of his own verandah: where Nina's trunk stood already, having been landed by the steamer's men. As soon as Captain Ford had his glass before him and his cheroot lighted, Almayer asked for the explanation of his daughter's unexpected arrival. Ford said little beyond generalising in vague but violent terms upon the foolishness of women in general, and of Mrs. Vinck in particular. "You know, Kaspar," said he, in conclusion, to the excited Almayer, "it is deucedly awkward to have a half-caste girl in the house. There's such a lot of fools about. There was that young fellow from the bank who used to ride to the Vinck bungalow early and late. That old woman thought it was for that Emma of hers. When she found out what he wanted exactly, there was a row, I can tell you. She would not have Nina--not an hour longer--in the house. Fact is, I heard of this affair and took the girl to my wife. My wife is a pretty good woman--as women go--and upon my word we would have kept the girl for you, only she would not stay. Now, then! Don't flare up, Kaspar. Sit still. What can you do? It is better so. Let her stay with you. She was never happy over there. Those two Vinck girls are no better than dressed-up monkeys. They slighted her. You can't make her white. It's no use you swearing at me. You can't. She is a good girl for all that, but she would not tell my wife anything. If you want to know, ask her yourself; but if I was you I would leave her alone. You are welcome to her passage money, old fellow, if you are short now." And the skipper, throwing away his cigar, walked off to "wake them up on board," as he expressed it. Almayer vainly expected to hear of the cause of his daughter's return from his daughter's lips. Not that day, not on any other day did she ever allude to her Singapore life. He did not care to ask, awed by the calm impassiveness of her face, by those solemn eyes looking past him on the great, still forests sleeping in majestic repose to the murmur of the broad river. He accepted the situation, happy in the gentle and protecting affection the girl showed him, fitfully enough, for she had, as she called it, her bad days when she used to visit her mother and remain long hours in the riverside hut, coming out as inscrutable as ever, but with a contemptuous look and a short word ready to answer any of his speeches. He got used even to that, and on those days kept quiet, although greatly alarmed by his wife's influence upon the girl. Otherwise Nina adapted herself wonderfully to the circumstances of a half-savage and miserable life. She accepted without question or apparent disgust the neglect, the decay, the poverty of the household, the absence of furniture, and the preponderance of rice diet on the family table. She lived with Almayer in the little house (now sadly decaying) built originally by Lingard for the young couple. The Malays eagerly discussed her arrival. There were at the beginning crowded levees of Malay women with their children, seeking eagerly after "Ubat" for all the ills of the flesh from the young Mem Putih. In the cool of the evening grave Arabs in long white shirts and yellow sleeveless jackets walked slowly on the dusty path by the riverside towards Almayer's gate, and made solemn calls upon that Unbeliever under shallow pretences of business, only to get a glimpse of the young girl in a highly decorous manner. Even Lakamba came out of his stockade in a great pomp of war canoes and red umbrellas, and landed on the rotten little jetty of Lingard and Co. He came, he said, to buy a couple of brass guns as a present to his friend the chief of Sambir Dyaks; and while Almayer, suspicious but polite, busied himself in unearthing the old popguns in the godowns, the Rajah sat on an armchair in the verandah, surrounded by his respectful retinue waiting in vain for Nina's appearance. She was in one of her bad days, and remained in her mother's hut watching with her the ceremonious proceedings on the verandah. The Rajah departed, baffled but courteous, and soon Almayer began to reap the benefit of improved relations with the ruler in the shape of the recovery of some debts, paid to him with many apologies and many a low salaam by debtors till then considered hopelessly insolvent. Under these improving circumstances Almayer brightened up a little. All was not lost perhaps. Those Arabs and Malays saw at last that he was a man of some ability, he thought. And he began, after his manner, to plan great things, to dream of great fortunes for himself and Nina. Especially for Nina! Under these vivifying impulses he asked Captain Ford to write to his friends in England making inquiries after Lingard. Was he alive or dead? If dead, had he left any papers, documents; any indications or hints as to his great enterprise? Meantime he had found amongst the rubbish in one of the empty rooms a note-book belonging to the old adventurer. He studied the crabbed handwriting of its pages and often grew meditative over it. Other things also woke him up from his apathy. The stir made in the whole of the island by the establishment of the British Borneo Company affected even the sluggish flow of the Pantai life. Great changes were expected; annexation was talked of; the Arabs grew civil. Almayer began building his new house for the use of the future engineers, agents, or settlers of the new Company. He spent every available guilder on it with a confiding heart. One thing only disturbed his happiness: his wife came out of her seclusion, importing her green jacket, scant sarongs, shrill voice, and witch-like appearance, into his quiet life in the small bungalow. And his daughter seemed to accept that savage intrusion into their daily existence with wonderful equanimity. He did not like it, but dared say nothing. CHAPTER III. The deliberations conducted in London have a far-reaching importance, and so the decision issued from the fog-veiled offices of the Borneo Company darkened for Almayer the brilliant sunshine of the Tropics, and added another drop of bitterness to the cup of his disenchantments. The claim to that part of the East Coast was abandoned, leaving the Pantai river under the nominal power of Holland. In Sambir there was joy and excitement. The slaves were hurried out of sight into the forest and jungle, and the flags were run up to tall poles in the Rajah's compound in expectation of a visit from Dutch man-of-war boats. The frigate remained anchored outside the mouth of the river, and the boats came up in tow of the steam launch, threading their way cautiously amongst a crowd of canoes filled with gaily dressed Malays. The officer in command listened gravely to the loyal speeches of Lakamba, returned the salaams of Abdulla, and assured those gentlemen in choice Malay of the great Rajah's--down in Batavia--friendship and goodwill towards the ruler and inhabitants of this model state of Sambir. Almayer from his verandah watched across the river the festive proceedings, heard the report of brass guns saluting the new flag presented to Lakamba, and the deep murmur of the crowd of spectators surging round the stockade. The smoke of the firing rose in white clouds on the green background of the forests, and he could not help comparing his own fleeting hopes to the rapidly disappearing vapour. He was by no means patriotically elated by the event, yet he had to force himself into a gracious behaviour when, the official reception being over, the naval officers of the Commission crossed the river to pay a visit to the solitary white man of whom they had heard, no doubt wishing also to catch a glimpse of his daughter. In that they were disappointed, Nina refusing to show herself; but they seemed easily consoled by the gin and cheroots set before them by the hospitable Almayer; and sprawling comfortably on the lame armchairs under the shade of the verandah, while the blazing sunshine outside seemed to set the great river simmering in the heat, they filled the little bungalow with the unusual sounds of European languages, with noise and laughter produced by naval witticisms at the expense of the fat Lakamba whom they had been complimenting so much that very morning. The younger men in an access of good fellowship made their host talk, and Almayer, excited by the sight of European faces, by the sound of European voices, opened his heart before the sympathising strangers, unaware of the amusement the recital of his many misfortunes caused to those future admirals. They drank his health, wished him many big diamonds and a mountain of gold, expressed even an envy of the high destinies awaiting him yet. Encouraged by so much friendliness, the grey- headed and foolish dreamer invited his guests to visit his new house. They went there through the long grass in a straggling procession while their boats were got ready for the return down the river in the cool of the evening. And in the great empty rooms where the tepid wind entering through the sashless windows whirled gently the dried leaves and the dust of many days of neglect, Almayer in his white jacket and flowered sarong, surrounded by a circle of glittering uniforms, stamped his foot to show the solidity of the neatly-fitting floors and expatiated upon the beauties and convenience of the building. They listened and assented, amazed by the wonderful simplicity and the foolish hopefulness of the man, till Almayer, carried away by his excitement, disclosed his regret at the non-arrival of the English, "who knew how to develop a rich country," as he expressed it. There was a general laugh amongst the Dutch officers at that unsophisticated statement, and a move was made towards the boats; but when Almayer, stepping cautiously on the rotten boards of the Lingard jetty, tried to approach the chief of the Commission with some timid hints anent the protection required by the Dutch subject against the wily Arabs, that salt water diplomat told him significantly that the Arabs were better subjects than Hollanders who dealt illegally in gunpowder with the Malays. The innocent Almayer recognised there at once the oily tongue of Abdulla and the solemn persuasiveness of Lakamba, but ere he had time to frame an indignant protest the steam launch and the string of boats moved rapidly down the river leaving him on the jetty, standing open-mouthed in his surprise and anger. There are thirty miles of river from Sambir to the gem-like islands of the estuary where the frigate was awaiting the return of the boats. The moon rose long before the boats had traversed half that distance, and the black forest sleeping peacefully under her cold rays woke up that night to the ringing laughter in the small flotilla provoked by some reminiscence of Almayer's lamentable narrative. Salt-water jests at the poor man's expense were passed from boat to boat, the non-appearance of his daughter was commented upon with severe displeasure, and the half-finished house built for the reception of Englishmen received on that joyous night the name of "Almayer's Folly" by the unanimous vote of the lighthearted seamen. For many weeks after this visit life in Sambir resumed its even and uneventful flow. Each day's sun shooting its morning rays above the tree- tops lit up the usual scene of daily activity. Nina walking on the path that formed the only street in the settlement saw the accustomed sight of men lolling on the shady side of the houses, on the high platforms; of women busily engaged in husking the daily rice; of naked brown children racing along the shady and narrow paths leading to the clearings. Jim- Eng, strolling before his house, greeted her with a friendly nod before climbing up indoors to seek his beloved opium pipe. The elder children clustered round her, daring from long acquaintance, pulling the skirts of her white robe with their dark fingers, and showing their brilliant teeth in expectation of a shower of glass beads. She greeted them with a quiet smile, but always had a few friendly words for a Siamese girl, a slave owned by Bulangi, whose numerous wives were said to be of a violent temper. Well-founded rumour said also that the domestic squabbles of that industrious cultivator ended generally in a combined assault of all his wives upon the Siamese slave. The girl herself never complained--perhaps from dictates of prudence, but more likely through the strange, resigned apathy of half-savage womankind. From early morning she was to be seen on the paths amongst the houses--by the riverside or on the jetties, the tray of pastry, it was her mission to sell, skilfully balanced on her head. During the great heat of the day she usually sought refuge in Almayer's campong, often finding shelter in a shady corner of the verandah, where she squatted with her tray before her, when invited by Nina. For "Mem Putih" she had always a smile, but the presence of Mrs. Almayer, the very sound of her shrill voice, was the signal for a hurried departure. To this girl Nina often spoke; the other inhabitants of Sambir seldom or never heard the sound of her voice. They got used to the silent figure moving in their midst calm and white-robed, a being from another world and incomprehensible to them. Yet Nina's life for all her outward composure, for all the seeming detachment from the things and people surrounding her, was far from quiet, in consequence of Mrs. Almayer being much too active for the happiness and even safety of the household. She had resumed some intercourse with Lakamba, not personally, it is true (for the dignity of that potentate kept him inside his stockade), but through the agency of that potentate's prime minister, harbour master, financial adviser, and general factotum. That gentleman--of Sulu origin--was certainly endowed with statesmanlike qualities, although he was totally devoid of personal charms. In truth he was perfectly repulsive, possessing only one eye and a pockmarked face, with nose and lips horribly disfigured by the small-pox. This unengaging individual often strolled into Almayer's garden in unofficial costume, composed of a piece of pink calico round his waist. There at the back of the house, squatting on his heels on scattered embers, in close proximity to the great iron boiler, where the family daily rice was being cooked by the women under Mrs. Almayer's superintendence, did that astute negotiator carry on long conversations in Sulu language with Almayer's wife. What the subject of their discourses was might have been guessed from the subsequent domestic scenes by Almayer's hearthstone. Of late Almayer had taken to excursions up the river. In a small canoe with two paddlers and the faithful Ali for a steersman he would disappear for a few days at a time. All his movements were no doubt closely watched by Lakamba and Abdulla, for the man once in the confidence of Rajah Laut was supposed to be in possession of valuable secrets. The coast population of Borneo believes implicitly in diamonds of fabulous value, in gold mines of enormous richness in the interior. And all those imaginings are heightened by the difficulty of penetrating far inland, especially on the north-east coast, where the Malays and the river tribes of Dyaks or Head-hunters are eternally quarrelling. It is true enough that some gold reaches the coast in the hands of those Dyaks when, during short periods of truce in the desultory warfare, they visit the coast settlements of Malays. And so the wildest exaggerations are built up and added to on the slight basis of that fact. Almayer in his quality of white man--as Lingard before him--had somewhat better relations with the up-river tribes. Yet even his excursions were not without danger, and his returns were eagerly looked for by the impatient Lakamba. But every time the Rajah was disappointed. Vain were the conferences by the rice-pot of his factotum Babalatchi with the white man's wife. The white man himself was impenetrable--impenetrable to persuasion, coaxing, abuse; to soft words and shrill revilings; to desperate beseechings or murderous threats; for Mrs. Almayer, in her extreme desire to persuade her husband into an alliance with Lakamba, played upon the whole gamut of passion. With her soiled robe wound tightly under the armpits across her lean bosom, her scant grayish hair tumbled in disorder over her projecting cheek-bones, in suppliant attitude, she depicted with shrill volubility the advantages of close union with a man so good and so fair dealing. "Why don't you go to the Rajah?" she screamed. "Why do you go back to those Dyaks in the great forest? They should be killed. You cannot kill them, you cannot; but our Rajah's men are brave! You tell the Rajah where the old white man's treasure is. Our Rajah is good! He is our very grandfather, Datu Besar! He will kill those wretched Dyaks, and you shall have half the treasure. Oh, Kaspar, tell where the treasure is! Tell me! Tell me out of the old man's surat where you read so often at night." On those occasions Almayer sat with rounded shoulders bending to the blast of this domestic tempest, accentuating only each pause in the torrent of his wife's eloquence by an angry growl, "There is no treasure! Go away, woman!" Exasperated by the sight of his patiently bent back, she would at last walk round so as to face him across the table, and clasping her robe with one hand she stretched the other lean arm and claw- like hand to emphasise, in a passion of anger and contempt, the rapid rush of scathing remarks and bitter cursings heaped on the head of the man unworthy to associate with brave Malay chiefs. It ended generally by Almayer rising slowly, his long pipe in hand, his face set into a look of inward pain, and walking away in silence. He descended the steps and plunged into the long grass on his way to the solitude of his new house, dragging his feet in a state of physical collapse from disgust and fear before that fury. She followed to the head of the steps, and sent the shafts of indiscriminate abuse after the retreating form. And each of those scenes was concluded by a piercing shriek, reaching him far away. "You know, Kaspar, I am your wife! your own Christian wife after your own Blanda law!" For she knew that this was the bitterest thing of all; the greatest regret of that man's life. All these scenes Nina witnessed unmoved. She might have been deaf, dumb, without any feeling as far as any expression of opinion went. Yet oft when her father had sought the refuge of the great dusty rooms of "Almayer's Folly," and her mother, exhausted by rhetorical efforts, squatted wearily on her heels with her back against the leg of the table, Nina would approach her curiously, guarding her skirts from betel juice besprinkling the floor, and gaze down upon her as one might look into the quiescent crater of a volcano after a destructive eruption. Mrs. Almayer's thoughts, after these scenes, were usually turned into a channel of childhood reminiscences, and she gave them utterance in a kind of monotonous recitative--slightly disconnected, but generally describing the glories of the Sultan of Sulu, his great splendour, his power, his great prowess; the fear which benumbed the hearts of white men at the sight of his swift piratical praus. And these muttered statements of her grandfather's might were mixed up with bits of later recollections, where the great fight with the "White Devil's" brig and the convent life in Samarang occupied the principal place. At that point she usually dropped the thread of her narrative, and pulling out the little brass cross, always suspended round her neck, she contemplated it with superstitious awe. That superstitious feeling connected with some vague talismanic properties of the little bit of metal, and the still more hazy but terrible notion of some bad Djinns and horrible torments invented, as she thought, for her especial punishment by the good Mother Superior in case of the loss of the above charm, were Mrs. Almayer's only theological luggage for the stormy road of life. Mrs. Almayer had at least something tangible to cling to, but Nina, brought up under the Protestant wing of the proper Mrs. Vinck, had not even a little piece of brass to remind her of past teaching. And listening to the recital of those savage glories, those barbarous fights and savage feasting, to the story of deeds valorous, albeit somewhat bloodthirsty, where men of her mother's race shone far above the Orang Blanda, she felt herself irresistibly fascinated, and saw with vague surprise the narrow mantle of civilised morality, in which good-meaning people had wrapped her young soul, fall away and leave her shivering and helpless as if on the edge of some deep and unknown abyss. Strangest of all, this abyss did not frighten her when she was under the influence of the witch-like being she called her mother. She seemed to have forgotten in civilised surroundings her life before the time when Lingard had, so to speak, kidnapped her from Brow. Since then she had had Christian teaching, social education, and a good glimpse of civilised life. Unfortunately her teachers did not understand her nature, and the education ended in a scene of humiliation, in an outburst of contempt from white people for her mixed blood. She had tasted the whole bitterness of it and remembered distinctly that the virtuous Mrs. Vinck's indignation was not so much directed against the young man from the bank as against the innocent cause of that young man's infatuation. And there was also no doubt in her mind that the principal cause of Mrs. Vinck's indignation was the thought that such a thing should happen in a white nest, where her snow-white doves, the two Misses Vinck, had just returned from Europe, to find shelter under the maternal wing, and there await the coming of irreproachable men of their destiny. Not even the thought of the money so painfully scraped together by Almayer, and so punctually sent for Nina's expenses, could dissuade Mrs. Vinck from her virtuous resolve. Nina was sent away, and in truth the girl herself wanted to go, although a little frightened by the impending change. And now she had lived on the river for three years with a savage mother and a father walking about amongst pitfalls, with his head in the clouds, weak, irresolute, and unhappy. She had lived a life devoid of all the decencies of civilisation, in miserable domestic conditions; she had breathed in the atmosphere of sordid plottings for gain, of the no less disgusting intrigues and crimes for lust or money; and those things, together with the domestic quarrels, were the only events of her three years' existence. She did not die from despair and disgust the first month, as she expected and almost hoped for. On the contrary, at the end of half a year it had seemed to her that she had known no other life. Her young mind having been unskilfully permitted to glance at better things, and then thrown back again into the hopeless quagmire of barbarism, full of strong and uncontrolled passions, had lost the power to discriminate. It seemed to Nina that there was no change and no difference. Whether they traded in brick godowns or on the muddy river bank; whether they reached after much or little; whether they made love under the shadows of the great trees or in the shadow of the cathedral on the Singapore promenade; whether they plotted for their own ends under the protection of laws and according to the rules of Christian conduct, or whether they sought the gratification of their desires with the savage cunning and the unrestrained fierceness of natures as innocent of culture as their own immense and gloomy forests, Nina saw only the same manifestations of love and hate and of sordid greed chasing the uncertain dollar in all its multifarious and vanishing shapes. To her resolute nature, however, after all these years, the savage and uncompromising sincerity of purpose shown by her Malay kinsmen seemed at last preferable to the sleek hypocrisy, to the polite disguises, to the virtuous pretences of such white people as she had had the misfortune to come in contact with. After all it was her life; it was going to be her life, and so thinking she fell more and more under the influence of her mother. Seeking, in her ignorance, a better side to that life, she listened with avidity to the old woman's tales of the departed glories of the Rajahs, from whose race she had sprung, and she became gradually more indifferent, more contemptuous of the white side of her descent represented by a feeble and traditionless father. Almayer's difficulties were by no means diminished by the girl's presence in Sambir. The stir caused by her arrival had died out, it is true, and Lakamba had not renewed his visits; but about a year after the departure of the man-of-war boats the nephew of Abdulla, Syed Reshid, returned from his pilgrimage to Mecca, rejoicing in a green jacket and the proud title of Hadji. There was a great letting off of rockets on board the steamer which brought him in, and a great beating of drums all night in Abdulla's compound, while the feast of welcome was prolonged far into the small hours of the morning. Reshid was the favourite nephew and heir of Abdulla, and that loving uncle, meeting Almayer one day by the riverside, stopped politely to exchange civilities and to ask solemnly for an interview. Almayer suspected some attempt at a swindle, or at any rate something unpleasant, but of course consented with a great show of rejoicing. Accordingly the next evening, after sunset, Abdulla came, accompanied by several other grey-beards and by his nephew. That young man--of a very rakish and dissipated appearance--affected the greatest indifference as to the whole of the proceedings. When the torch-bearers had grouped themselves below the steps, and the visitors had seated themselves on various lame chairs, Reshid stood apart in the shadow, examining his aristocratically small hands with great attention. Almayer, surprised by the great solemnity of his visitors, perched himself on the corner of the table with a characteristic want of dignity quickly noted by the Arabs with grave disapproval. But Abdulla spoke now, looking straight past Almayer at the red curtain hanging in the doorway, where a slight tremor disclosed the presence of women on the other side. He began by neatly complimenting Almayer upon the long years they had dwelt together in cordial neighbourhood, and called upon Allah to give him many more years to gladden the eyes of his friends by his welcome presence. He made a polite allusion to the great consideration shown him (Almayer) by the Dutch "Commissie," and drew thence the flattering inference of Almayer's great importance amongst his own people. He--Abdulla--was also important amongst all the Arabs, and his nephew Reshid would be heir of that social position and of great riches. Now Reshid was a Hadji. He was possessor of several Malay women, went on Abdulla, but it was time he had a favourite wife, the first of the four allowed by the Prophet. And, speaking with well-bred politeness, he explained further to the dumbfounded Almayer that, if he would consent to the alliance of his offspring with that true believer and virtuous man Reshid, she would be the mistress of all the splendours of Reshid's house, and first wife of the first Arab in the Islands, when he--Abdulla--was called to the joys of Paradise by Allah the All-merciful. "You know, Tuan," he said, in conclusion, "the other women would be her slaves, and Reshid's house is great. From Bombay he has brought great divans, and costly carpets, and European furniture. There is also a great looking-glass in a frame shining like gold. What could a girl want more?" And while Almayer looked upon him in silent dismay Abdulla spoke in a more confidential tone, waving his attendants away, and finished his speech by pointing out the material advantages of such an alliance, and offering to settle upon Almayer three thousand dollars as a sign of his sincere friendship and the price of the girl. Poor Almayer was nearly having a fit. Burning with the desire of taking Abdulla by the throat, he had but to think of his helpless position in the midst of lawless men to comprehend the necessity of diplomatic conciliation. He mastered his impulses, and spoke politely and coldly, saying the girl was young and as the apple of his eye. Tuan Reshid, a Faithful and a Hadji, would not want an infidel woman in his harem; and, seeing Abdulla smile sceptically at that last objection, he remained silent, not trusting himself to speak more, not daring to refuse point- blank, nor yet to say anything compromising. Abdulla understood the meaning of that silence, and rose to take leave with a grave salaam. He wished his friend Almayer "a thousand years," and moved down the steps, helped dutifully by Reshid. The torch-bearers shook their torches, scattering a shower of sparks into the river, and the cortege moved off, leaving Almayer agitated but greatly relieved by their departure. He dropped into a chair and watched the glimmer of the lights amongst the tree trunks till they disappeared and complete silence succeeded the tramp of feet and the murmur of voices. He did not move till the curtain rustled and Nina came out on the verandah and sat in the rocking-chair, where she used to spend many hours every day. She gave a slight rocking motion to her seat, leaning back with half-closed eyes, her long hair shading her face from the smoky light of the lamp on the table. Almayer looked at her furtively, but the face was as impassible as ever. She turned her head slightly towards her father, and, speaking, to his great surprise, in English, asked-- "Was that Abdulla here?" "Yes," said Almayer--"just gone." "And what did he want, father?" "He wanted to buy you for Reshid," answered Almayer, brutally, his anger getting the better of him, and looking at the girl as if in expectation of some outbreak of feeling. But Nina remained apparently unmoved, gazing dreamily into the black night outside. "Be careful, Nina," said Almayer, after a short silence and rising from his chair, "when you go paddling alone into the creeks in your canoe. That Reshid is a violent scoundrel, and there is no saying what he may do. Do you hear me?" She was standing now, ready to go in, one hand grasping the curtain in the doorway. She turned round, throwing her heavy tresses back by a sudden gesture. "Do you think he would dare?" she asked, quickly, and then turned again to go in, adding in a lower tone, "He would not dare. Arabs are all cowards." Almayer looked after her, astonished. He did not seek the repose of his hammock. He walked the floor absently, sometimes stopping by the balustrade to think. The lamp went out. The first streak of dawn broke over the forest; Almayer shivered in the damp air. "I give it up," he muttered to himself, lying down wearily. "Damn those women! Well! If the girl did not look as if she wanted to be kidnapped!" And he felt a nameless fear creep into his heart, making him shiver again. CHAPTER IV. That year, towards the breaking up of the south-west monsoon, disquieting rumours reached Sambir. Captain Ford, coming up to Almayer's house for an evening's chat, brought late numbers of the _Straits Times_ giving the news of Acheen war and of the unsuccessful Dutch expedition. The Nakhodas of the rare trading praus ascending the river paid visits to Lakamba, discussing with that potentate the unsettled state of affairs, and wagged their heads gravely over the recital of Orang Blanda exaction, severity, and general tyranny, as exemplified in the total stoppage of gunpowder trade and the rigorous visiting of all suspicious craft trading in the straits of Macassar. Even the loyal soul of Lakamba was stirred into a state of inward discontent by the withdrawal of his license for powder and by the abrupt confiscation of one hundred and fifty barrels of that commodity by the gunboat _Princess Amelia_, when, after a hazardous voyage, it had almost reached the mouth of the river. The unpleasant news was given him by Reshid, who, after the unsuccessful issue of his matrimonial projects, had made a long voyage amongst the islands for trading purposes; had bought the powder for his friend, and was overhauled and deprived of it on his return when actually congratulating himself on his acuteness in avoiding detection. Reshid's wrath was principally directed against Almayer, whom he suspected of having notified the Dutch authorities of the desultory warfare carried on by the Arabs and the Rajah with the up-river Dyak tribes. To Reshid's great surprise the Rajah received his complaints very coldly, and showed no signs of vengeful disposition towards the white man. In truth, Lakamba knew very well that Almayer was perfectly innocent of any meddling in state affairs; and besides, his attitude towards that much persecuted individual was wholly changed in consequence of a reconciliation effected between him and his old enemy by Almayer's newly- found friend, Dain Maroola. Almayer had now a friend. Shortly after Reshid's departure on his commercial journey, Nina, drifting slowly with the tide in the canoe on her return home after one of her solitary excursions, heard in one of the small creeks a splashing, as if of heavy ropes dropping in the water, and the prolonged song of Malay seamen when some heavy pulling is to be done. Through the thick fringe of bushes hiding the mouth of the creek she saw the tall spars of some European-rigged sailing vessel overtopping the summits of the Nipa palms. A brig was being hauled out of the small creek into the main stream. The sun had set, and during the short moments of twilight Nina saw the brig, aided by the evening breeze and the flowing tide, head towards Sambir under her set foresail. The girl turned her canoe out of the main river into one of the many narrow channels amongst the wooded islets, and paddled vigorously over the black and sleepy backwaters towards Sambir. Her canoe brushed the water-palms, skirted the short spaces of muddy bank where sedate alligators looked at her with lazy unconcern, and, just as darkness was setting in, shot out into the broad junction of the two main branches of the river, where the brig was already at anchor with sails furled, yards squared, and decks seemingly untenanted by any human being. Nina had to cross the river and pass pretty close to the brig in order to reach home on the low promontory between the two branches of the Pantai. Up both branches, in the houses built on the banks and over the water, the lights twinkled already, reflected in the still waters below. The hum of voices, the occasional cry of a child, the rapid and abruptly interrupted roll of a wooden drum, together with some distant hailing in the darkness by the returning fishermen, reached her over the broad expanse of the river. She hesitated a little before crossing, the sight of such an unusual object as an European-rigged vessel causing her some uneasiness, but the river in its wide expansion was dark enough to render a small canoe invisible. She urged her small craft with swift strokes of her paddle, kneeling in the bottom and bending forward to catch any suspicious sound while she steered towards the little jetty of Lingard and Co., to which the strong light of the paraffin lamp shining on the whitewashed verandah of Almayer's bungalow served as a convenient guide. The jetty itself, under the shadow of the bank overgrown by drooping bushes, was hidden in darkness. Before even she could see it she heard the hollow bumping of a large boat against its rotten posts, and heard also the murmur of whispered conversation in that boat whose white paint and great dimensions, faintly visible on nearer approach, made her rightly guess that it belonged to the brig just anchored. Stopping her course by a rapid motion of her paddle, with another swift stroke she sent it whirling away from the wharf and steered for a little rivulet which gave access to the back courtyard of the house. She landed at the muddy head of the creek and made her way towards the house over the trodden grass of the courtyard. To the left, from the cooking shed, shone a red glare through the banana plantation she skirted, and the noise of feminine laughter reached her from there in the silent evening. She rightly judged her mother was not near, laughter and Mrs. Almayer not being close neighbours. She must be in the house, thought Nina, as she ran lightly up the inclined plane of shaky planks leading to the back door of the narrow passage dividing the house in two. Outside the doorway, in the black shadow, stood the faithful Ali. "Who is there?" asked Nina. "A great Malay man has come," answered Ali, in a tone of suppressed excitement. "He is a rich man. There are six men with lances. Real Soldat, you understand. And his dress is very brave. I have seen his dress. It shines! What jewels! Don't go there, Mem Nina. Tuan said not; but the old Mem is gone. Tuan will be angry. Merciful Allah! what jewels that man has got!" Nina slipped past the outstretched hand of the slave into the dark passage where, in the crimson glow of the hanging curtain, close by its other end, she could see a small dark form crouching near the wall. Her mother was feasting her eyes and ears with what was taking place on the front verandah, and Nina approached to take her share in the rare pleasure of some novelty. She was met by her mother's extended arm and by a low murmured warning not to make a noise. "Have you seen them, mother?" asked Nina, in a breathless whisper. Mrs. Almayer turned her face towards the girl, and her sunken eyes shone strangely in the red half-light of the passage. "I saw him," she said, in an almost inaudible tone, pressing her daughter's hand with her bony fingers. "A great Rajah has come to Sambir--a Son of Heaven," muttered the old woman to herself. "Go away, girl!" The two women stood close to the curtain, Nina wishing to approach the rent in the stuff, and her mother defending the position with angry obstinacy. On the other side there was a lull in the conversation, but the breathing of several men, the occasional light tinkling of some ornaments, the clink of metal scabbards, or of brass siri-vessels passed from hand to hand, was audible during the short pause. The women struggled silently, when there was a shuffling noise and the shadow of Almayer's burly form fell on the curtain. The women ceased struggling and remained motionless. Almayer had stood up to answer his guest, turning his back to the doorway, unaware of what was going on on the other side. He spoke in a tone of regretful irritation. "You have come to the wrong house, Tuan Maroola, if you want to trade as you say. I was a trader once, not now, whatever you may have heard about me in Macassar. And if you want anything, you will not find it here; I have nothing to give, and want nothing myself. You should go to the Rajah here; you can see in the daytime his houses across the river, there, where those fires are burning on the shore. He will help you and trade with you. Or, better still, go to the Arabs over there," he went on bitterly, pointing with his hand towards the houses of Sambir. "Abdulla is the man you want. There is nothing he would not buy, and there is nothing he would not sell; believe me, I know him well." He waited for an answer a short time, then added-- "All that I have said is true, and there is nothing more." Nina, held back by her mother, heard a soft voice reply with a calm evenness of intonation peculiar to the better class Malays-- "Who would doubt a white Tuan's words? A man seeks his friends where his heart tells him. Is this not true also? I have come, although so late, for I have something to say which you may be glad to hear. To-morrow I will go to the Sultan; a trader wants the friendship of great men. Then I shall return here to speak serious words, if Tuan permits. I shall not go to the Arabs; their lies are very great! What are they? Chelakka!" Almayer's voice sounded a little more pleasantly in reply. "Well, as you like. I can hear you to-morrow at any time if you have anything to say. Bah! After you have seen the Sultan Lakamba you will not want to return here, Inchi Dain. You will see. Only mind, I will have nothing to do with Lakamba. You may tell him so. What is your business with me, after all?" "To-morrow we talk, Tuan, now I know you," answered the Malay. "I speak English a little, so we can talk and nobody will understand, and then--" He interrupted himself suddenly, asking surprised, "What's that noise, Tuan?" Almayer had also heard the increasing noise of the scuffle recommenced on the women's side of the curtain. Evidently Nina's strong curiosity was on the point of overcoming Mrs. Almayer's exalted sense of social proprieties. Hard breathing was distinctly audible, and the curtain shook during the contest, which was mainly physical, although Mrs. Almayer's voice was heard in angry remonstrance with its usual want of strictly logical reasoning, but with the well-known richness of invective. "You shameless woman! Are you a slave?" shouted shrilly the irate matron. "Veil your face, abandoned wretch! You white snake, I will not let you!" Almayer's face expressed annoyance and also doubt as to the advisability of interfering between mother and daughter. He glanced at his Malay visitor, who was waiting silently for the end of the uproar in an attitude of amused expectation, and waving his hand contemptuously he murmured-- "It is nothing. Some women." The Malay nodded his head gravely, and his face assumed an expression of serene indifference, as etiquette demanded after such an explanation. The contest was ended behind the curtain, and evidently the younger will had its way, for the rapid shuffle and click of Mrs. Almayer's high-heeled sandals died away in the distance. The tranquillised master of the house was going to resume the conversation when, struck by an unexpected change in the expression of his guest's countenance, he turned his head and saw Nina standing in the doorway. After Mrs. Almayer's retreat from the field of battle, Nina, with a contemptuous exclamation, "It's only a trader," had lifted the conquered curtain and now stood in full light, framed in the dark background on the passage, her lips slightly parted, her hair in disorder after the exertion, the angry gleam not yet faded out of her glorious and sparkling eyes. She took in at a glance the group of white-clad lancemen standing motionless in the shadow of the far-off end of the verandah, and her gaze rested curiously on the chief of that imposing _cortege_. He stood, almost facing her, a little on one side, and struck by the beauty of the unexpected apparition had bent low, elevating his joint hands above his head in a sign of respect accorded by Malays only to the great of this earth. The crude light of the lamp shone on the gold embroidery of his black silk jacket, broke in a thousand sparkling rays on the jewelled hilt of his kriss protruding from under the many folds of the red sarong gathered into a sash round his waist, and played on the precious stones of the many rings on his dark fingers. He straightened himself up quickly after the low bow, putting his hand with a graceful ease on the hilt of his heavy short sword ornamented with brilliantly dyed fringes of horsehair. Nina, hesitating on the threshold, saw an erect lithe figure of medium height with a breadth of shoulder suggesting great power. Under the folds of a blue turban, whose fringed ends hung gracefully over the left shoulder, was a face full of determination and expressing a reckless good-humour, not devoid, however, of some dignity. The squareness of lower jaw, the full red lips, the mobile nostrils, and the proud carriage of the head gave the impression of a being half-savage, untamed, perhaps cruel, and corrected the liquid softness of the almost feminine eye, that general characteristic of the race. Now, the first surprise over, Nina saw those eyes fixed upon her with such an uncontrolled expression of admiration and desire that she felt a hitherto unknown feeling of shyness, mixed with alarm and some delight, enter and penetrate her whole being. Confused by those unusual sensations she stopped in the doorway and instinctively drew the lower part of the curtain across her face, leaving only half a rounded cheek, a stray tress, and one eye exposed, wherewith to contemplate the gorgeous and bold being so unlike in appearance to the rare specimens of traders she had seen before on that same verandah. Dain Maroola, dazzled by the unexpected vision, forgot the confused Almayer, forgot his brig, his escort staring in open-mouthed admiration, the object of his visit and all things else, in his overpowering desire to prolong the contemplation of so much loveliness met so suddenly in such an unlikely place--as he thought. "It is my daughter," said Almayer, in an embarrassed manner. "It is of no consequence. White women have their customs, as you know Tuan, having travelled much, as you say. However, it is late; we will finish our talk to-morrow." Dain bent low trying to convey in a last glance towards the girl the bold expression of his overwhelming admiration. The next minute he was shaking Almayer's hand with grave courtesy, his face wearing a look of stolid unconcern as to any feminine presence. His men filed off, and he followed them quickly, closely attended by a thick-set, savage-looking Sumatrese he had introduced before as the commander of his brig. Nina walked to the balustrade of the verandah and saw the sheen of moonlight on the steel spear-heads and heard the rhythmic jingle of brass anklets as the men moved in single file towards the jetty. The boat shoved off after a little while, looming large in the full light of the moon, a black shapeless mass in the slight haze hanging over the water. Nina fancied she could distinguish the graceful figure of the trader standing erect in the stern sheets, but in a little while all the outlines got blurred, confused, and soon disappeared in the folds of white vapour shrouding the middle of the river. Almayer had approached his daughter, and leaning with both arms over the rail, was looking moodily down on the heap of rubbish and broken bottles at the foot of the verandah. "What was all that noise just now?" he growled peevishly, without looking up. "Confound you and your mother! What did she want? What did you come out for?" "She did not want to let me come out," said Nina. "She is angry. She says the man just gone is some Rajah. I think she is right now." "I believe all you women are crazy," snarled Almayer. "What's that to you, to her, to anybody? The man wants to collect trepang and birds' nests on the islands. He told me so, that Rajah of yours. He will come to-morrow. I want you both to keep away from the house, and let me attend to my business in peace." Dain Maroola came the next day and had a long conversation with Almayer. This was the beginning of a close and friendly intercourse which, at first, was much remarked in Sambir, till the population got used to the frequent sight of many fires burning in Almayer's campong, where Maroola's men were warming themselves during the cold nights of the north- east monsoon, while their master had long conferences with the Tuan Putih--as they styled Almayer amongst themselves. Great was the curiosity in Sambir on the subject of the new trader. Had he seen the Sultan? What did the Sultan say? Had he given any presents? What would he sell? What would he buy? Those were the questions broached eagerly by the inhabitants of bamboo houses built over the river. Even in more substantial buildings, in Abdulla's house, in the residences of principal traders, Arab, Chinese, and Bugis, the excitement ran high, and lasted many days. With inborn suspicion they would not believe the simple account of himself the young trader was always ready to give. Yet it had all the appearance of truth. He said he was a trader, and sold rice. He did not want to buy gutta-percha or beeswax, because he intended to employ his numerous crew in collecting trepang on the coral reefs outside the river, and also in seeking for bird's nests on the mainland. Those two articles he professed himself ready to buy if there were any to be obtained in that way. He said he was from Bali, and a Brahmin, which last statement he made good by refusing all food during his often repeated visits to Lakamba's and Almayer's houses. To Lakamba he went generally at night and had long audiences. Babalatchi, who was always a third party at those meetings of potentate and trader, knew how to resist all attempts on the part of the curious to ascertain the subject of so many long talks. When questioned with languid courtesy by the grave Abdulla he sought refuge in a vacant stare of his one eye, and in the affectation of extreme simplicity. "I am only my master's slave," murmured Babalatchi, in a hesitating manner. Then as if making up his mind suddenly for a reckless confidence he would inform Abdulla of some transaction in rice, repeating the words, "A hundred big bags the Sultan bought; a hundred, Tuan!" in a tone of mysterious solemnity. Abdulla, firmly persuaded of the existence of some more important dealings, received, however, the information with all the signs of respectful astonishment. And the two would separate, the Arab cursing inwardly the wily dog, while Babalatchi went on his way walking on the dusty path, his body swaying, his chin with its few grey hairs pushed forward, resembling an inquisitive goat bent on some unlawful expedition. Attentive eyes watched his movements. Jim-Eng, descrying Babalatchi far away, would shake off the stupor of an habitual opium smoker and, tottering on to the middle of the road, would await the approach of that important person, ready with hospitable invitation. But Babalatchi's discretion was proof even against the combined assaults of good fellowship and of strong gin generously administered by the open- hearted Chinaman. Jim-Eng, owning himself beaten, was left uninformed with the empty bottle, and gazed sadly after the departing form of the statesman of Sambir pursuing his devious and unsteady way, which, as usual, led him to Almayer's compound. Ever since a reconciliation had been effected by Dain Maroola between his white friend and the Rajah, the one-eyed diplomatist had again become a frequent guest in the Dutchman's house. To Almayer's great disgust he was to be seen there at all times, strolling about in an abstracted kind of way on the verandah, skulking in the passages, or else popping round unexpected corners, always willing to engage Mrs. Almayer in confidential conversation. He was very shy of the master himself, as if suspicious that the pent-up feelings of the white man towards his person might find vent in a sudden kick. But the cooking shed was his favourite place, and he became an habitual guest there, squatting for hours amongst the busy women, with his chin resting on his knees, his lean arms clasped round his legs, and his one eye roving uneasily--the very picture of watchful ugliness. Almayer wanted more than once to complain to Lakamba of his Prime Minister's intrusion, but Dain dissuaded him. "We cannot say a word here that he does not hear," growled Almayer. "Then come and talk on board the brig," retorted Dain, with a quiet smile. "It is good to let the man come here. Lakamba thinks he knows much. Perhaps the Sultan thinks I want to run away. Better let the one- eyed crocodile sun himself in your campong, Tuan." And Almayer assented unwillingly muttering vague threats of personal violence, while he eyed malevolently the aged statesman sitting with quiet obstinacy by his domestic rice-pot. CHAPTER V. At last the excitement had died out in Sambir. The inhabitants got used to the sight of comings and goings between Almayer's house and the vessel, now moored to the opposite bank, and speculation as to the feverish activity displayed by Almayer's boatmen in repairing old canoes ceased to interfere with the due discharge of domestic duties by the women of the Settlement. Even the baffled Jim-Eng left off troubling his muddled brain with secrets of trade, and relapsed by the aid of his opium pipe into a state of stupefied bliss, letting Babalatchi pursue his way past his house uninvited and seemingly unnoticed. So on that warm afternoon, when the deserted river sparkled under the vertical sun, the statesman of Sambir could, without any hindrance from friendly inquirers, shove off his little canoe from under the bushes, where it was usually hidden during his visits to Almayer's compound. Slowly and languidly Babalatchi paddled, crouching low in the boat, making himself small under his as enormous sun hat to escape the scorching heat reflected from the water. He was not in a hurry; his master, Lakamba, was surely reposing at this time of the day. He would have ample time to cross over and greet him on his waking with important news. Will he be displeased? Will he strike his ebony wood staff angrily on the floor, frightening him by the incoherent violence of his exclamations; or will he squat down with a good-humoured smile, and, rubbing his hands gently over his stomach with a familiar gesture, expectorate copiously into the brass siri-vessel, giving vent to a low, approbative murmur? Such were Babalatchi's thoughts as he skilfully handled his paddle, crossing the river on his way to the Rajah's campong, whose stockades showed from behind the dense foliage of the bank just opposite to Almayer's bungalow. Indeed, he had a report to make. Something certain at last to confirm the daily tale of suspicions, the daily hints of familiarity, of stolen glances he had seen, of short and burning words he had overheard exchanged between Dain Maroola and Almayer's daughter. Lakamba had, till then, listened to it all, calmly and with evident distrust; now he was going to be convinced, for Babalatchi had the proof; had it this very morning, when fishing at break of day in the creek over which stood Bulangi's house. There from his skiff he saw Nina's long canoe drift past, the girl sitting in the stern bending over Dain, who was stretched in the bottom with his head resting on the girl's knees. He saw it. He followed them, but in a short time they took to the paddles and got away from under his observant eye. A few minutes afterwards he saw Bulangi's slave-girl paddling in a small dug-out to the town with her cakes for sale. She also had seen them in the grey dawn. And Babalatchi grinned confidentially to himself at the recollection of the slave-girl's discomposed face, of the hard look in her eyes, of the tremble in her voice, when answering his questions. That little Taminah evidently admired Dain Maroola. That was good! And Babalatchi laughed aloud at the notion; then becoming suddenly serious, he began by some strange association of ideas to speculate upon the price for which Bulangi would, possibly, sell the girl. He shook his head sadly at the thought that Bulangi was a hard man, and had refused one hundred dollars for that same Taminah only a few weeks ago; then he became suddenly aware that the canoe had drifted too far down during his meditation. He shook off the despondency caused by the certitude of Bulangi's mercenary disposition, and, taking up his paddle, in a few strokes sheered alongside the water- gate of the Rajah's house. That afternoon Almayer, as was his wont lately, moved about on the water- side, overlooking the repairs to his boats. He had decided at last. Guided by the scraps of information contained in old Lingard's pocket- book, he was going to seek for the rich gold-mine, for that place where he had only to stoop to gather up an immense fortune and realise the dream of his young days. To obtain the necessary help he had shared his knowledge with Dain Maroola, he had consented to be reconciled with Lakamba, who gave his support to the enterprise on condition of sharing the profits; he had sacrificed his pride, his honour, and his loyalty in the face of the enormous risk of his undertaking, dazzled by the greatness of the results to be achieved by this alliance so distasteful yet so necessary. The dangers were great, but Maroola was brave; his men seemed as reckless as their chief, and with Lakamba's aid success seemed assured. For the last fortnight Almayer was absorbed in the preparations, walking amongst his workmen and slaves in a kind of waking trance, where practical details as to the fitting out of the boats were mixed up with vivid dreams of untold wealth, where the present misery of burning sun, of the muddy and malodorous river bank disappeared in a gorgeous vision of a splendid future existence for himself and Nina. He hardly saw Nina during these last days, although the beloved daughter was ever present in his thoughts. He hardly took notice of Dain, whose constant presence in his house had become a matter of course to him now they were connected by a community of interests. When meeting the young chief he gave him an absent greeting and passed on, seemingly wishing to avoid him, bent upon forgetting the hated reality of the present by absorbing himself in his work, or else by letting his imagination soar far above the tree-tops into the great white clouds away to the westward, where the paradise of Europe was awaiting the future Eastern millionaire. And Maroola, now the bargain was struck and there was no more business to be talked over, evidently did not care for the white man's company. Yet Dain was always about the house, but he seldom stayed long by the riverside. On his daily visits to the white man the Malay chief preferred to make his way quietly through the central passage of the house, and would come out into the garden at the back, where the fire was burning in the cooking shed, with the rice kettle swinging over it, under the watchful supervision of Mrs. Almayer. Avoiding that shed, with its black smoke and the warbling of soft, feminine voices, Dain would turn to the left. There, on the edge of a banana plantation, a clump of palms and mango trees formed a shady spot, a few scattered bushes giving it a certain seclusion into which only the serving women's chatter or an occasional burst of laughter could penetrate. Once in, he was invisible; and hidden there, leaning against the smooth trunk of a tall palm, he waited with gleaming eyes and an assured smile to hear the faint rustle of dried grass under the light footsteps of Nina. From the very first moment when his eyes beheld this--to him--perfection of loveliness he felt in his inmost heart the conviction that she would be his; he felt the subtle breath of mutual understanding passing between their two savage natures, and he did not want Mrs. Almayer's encouraging smiles to take every opportunity of approaching the girl; and every time he spoke to her, every time he looked into her eyes, Nina, although averting her face, felt as if this bold-looking being who spoke burning words into her willing ear was the embodiment of her fate, the creature of her dreams--reckless, ferocious, ready with flashing kriss for his enemies, and with passionate embrace for his beloved--the ideal Malay chief of her mother's tradition. She recognised with a thrill of delicious fear the mysterious consciousness of her identity with that being. Listening to his words, it seemed to her she was born only then to a knowledge of a new existence, that her life was complete only when near him, and she abandoned herself to a feeling of dreamy happiness, while with half-veiled face and in silence--as became a Malay girl--she listened to Dain's words giving up to her the whole treasure of love and passion his nature was capable of with all the unrestrained enthusiasm of a man totally untrammelled by any influence of civilised self-discipline. And they used to pass many a delicious and fast fleeting hour under the mango trees behind the friendly curtain of bushes till Mrs. Almayer's shrill voice gave the signal of unwilling separation. Mrs. Almayer had undertaken the easy task of watching her husband lest he should interrupt the smooth course of her daughter's love affair, in which she took a great and benignant interest. She was happy and proud to see Dain's infatuation, believing him to be a great and powerful chief, and she found also a gratification of her mercenary instincts in Dain's open-handed generosity. On the eve of the day when Babalatchi's suspicions were confirmed by ocular demonstration, Dain and Nina had remained longer than usual in their shady retreat. Only Almayer's heavy step on the verandah and his querulous clamour for food decided Mrs. Almayer to lift a warning cry. Maroola leaped lightly over the low bamboo fence, and made his way stealthily through the banana plantation down to the muddy shore of the back creek, while Nina walked slowly towards the house to minister to her father's wants, as was her wont every evening. Almayer felt happy enough that evening; the preparations were nearly completed; to-morrow he would launch his boats. In his mind's eye he saw the rich prize in his grasp; and, with tin spoon in his hand, he was forgetting the plateful of rice before him in the fanciful arrangement of some splendid banquet to take place on his arrival in Amsterdam. Nina, reclining in the long chair, listened absently to the few disconnected words escaping from her father's lips. Expedition! Gold! What did she care for all that? But at the name of Maroola mentioned by her father she was all attention. Dain was going down the river with his brig to-morrow to remain away for a few days, said Almayer. It was very annoying, this delay. As soon as Dain returned they would have to start without loss of time, for the river was rising. He would not be surprised if a great flood was coming. And he pushed away his plate with an impatient gesture on rising from the table. But now Nina heard him not. Dain going away! That's why he had ordered her, with that quiet masterfulness it was her delight to obey, to meet him at break of day in Bulangi's creek. Was there a paddle in her canoe? she thought. Was it ready? She would have to start early--at four in the morning, in a very few hours. She rose from her chair, thinking she would require rest before the long pull in the early morning. The lamp was burning dimly, and her father, tired with the day's labour, was already in his hammock. Nina put the lamp out and passed into a large room she shared with her mother on the left of the central passage. Entering, she saw that Mrs. Almayer had deserted the pile of mats serving her as bed in one corner of the room, and was now bending over the opened lid of her large wooden chest. Half a shell of cocoanut filled with oil, where a cotton rag floated for a wick, stood on the floor, surrounding her with a ruddy halo of light shining through the black and odorous smoke. Mrs. Almayer's back was bent, and her head and shoulders hidden in the deep box. Her hands rummaged in the interior, where a soft clink as of silver money could be heard. She did not notice at first her daughter's approach, and Nina, standing silently by her, looked down on many little canvas bags ranged in the bottom of the chest, wherefrom her mother extracted handfuls of shining guilders and Mexican dollars, letting them stream slowly back again through her claw-like fingers. The music of tinkling silver seemed to delight her, and her eyes sparkled with the reflected gleam of freshly- minted coins. She was muttering to herself: "And this, and this, and yet this! Soon he will give more--as much more as I ask. He is a great Rajah--a Son of Heaven! And she will be a Ranee--he gave all this for her! Who ever gave anything for me? I am a slave! Am I? I am the mother of a great Ranee!" She became aware suddenly of her daughter's presence, and ceased her droning, shutting the lid down violently; then, without rising from her crouching position, she looked up at the girl standing by with a vague smile on her dreamy face. "You have seen. Have you?" she shouted, shrilly. "That is all mine, and for you. It is not enough! He will have to give more before he takes you away to the southern island where his father is king. You hear me? You are worth more, granddaughter of Rajahs! More! More!" The sleepy voice of Almayer was heard on the verandah recommending silence. Mrs. Almayer extinguished the light and crept into her corner of the room. Nina laid down on her back on a pile of soft mats, her hands entwined under her head, gazing through the shutterless hole, serving as a window at the stars twinkling on the black sky; she was awaiting the time of start for her appointed meeting-place. With quiet happiness she thought of that meeting in the great forest, far from all human eyes and sounds. Her soul, lapsing again into the savage mood, which the genius of civilisation working by the hand of Mrs. Vinck could never destroy, experienced a feeling of pride and of some slight trouble at the high value her worldly-wise mother had put upon her person; but she remembered the expressive glances and words of Dain, and, tranquillised, she closed her eyes in a shiver of pleasant anticipation. There are some situations where the barbarian and the, so-called, civilised man meet upon the same ground. It may be supposed that Dain Maroola was not exceptionally delighted with his prospective mother-in- law, nor that he actually approved of that worthy woman's appetite for shining dollars. Yet on that foggy morning when Babalatchi, laying aside the cares of state, went to visit his fish-baskets in the Bulangi creek, Maroola had no misgivings, experienced no feelings but those of impatience and longing, when paddling to the east side of the island forming the back-water in question. He hid his canoe in the bushes and strode rapidly across the islet, pushing with impatience through the twigs of heavy undergrowth intercrossed over his path. From motives of prudence he would not take his canoe to the meeting-place, as Nina had done. He had left it in the main stream till his return from the other side of the island. The heavy warm fog was closing rapidly round him, but he managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of a light away to the left, proceeding from Bulangi's house. Then he could see nothing in the thickening vapour, and kept to the path only by a sort of instinct, which also led him to the very point on the opposite shore he wished to reach. A great log had stranded there, at right angles to the bank, forming a kind of jetty against which the swiftly flowing stream broke with a loud ripple. He stepped on it with a quick but steady motion, and in two strides found himself at the outer end, with the rush and swirl of the foaming water at his feet. Standing there alone, as if separated from the world; the heavens, earth; the very water roaring under him swallowed up in the thick veil of the morning fog, he breathed out the name of Nina before him into the apparently limitless space, sure of being heard, instinctively sure of the nearness of the delightful creature; certain of her being aware of his near presence as he was aware of hers. The bow of Nina's canoe loomed up close to the log, canted high out of the water by the weight of the sitter in the stern. Maroola laid his hand on the stem and leaped lightly in, giving it a vigorous shove off. The light craft, obeying the new impulse, cleared the log by a hair's breadth, and the river, with obedient complicity, swung it broadside to the current, and bore it off silently and rapidly between the invisible banks. And once more Dain, at the feet of Nina, forgot the world, felt himself carried away helpless by a great wave of supreme emotion, by a rush of joy, pride, and desire; understood once more with overpowering certitude that there was no life possible without that being he held clasped in his arms with passionate strength in a prolonged embrace. Nina disengaged herself gently with a low laugh. "You will overturn the boat, Dain," she whispered. He looked into her eyes eagerly for a minute and let her go with a sigh, then lying down in the canoe he put his head on her knees, gazing upwards and stretching his arms backwards till his hands met round the girl's waist. She bent over him, and, shaking her head, framed both their faces in the falling locks of her long black hair. And so they drifted on, he speaking with all the rude eloquence of a savage nature giving itself up without restraint to an overmastering passion, she bending low to catch the murmur of words sweeter to her than life itself. To those two nothing existed then outside the gunwales of the narrow and fragile craft. It was their world, filled with their intense and all-absorbing love. They took no heed of thickening mist, or of the breeze dying away before sunrise; they forgot the existence of the great forests surrounding them, of all the tropical nature awaiting the advent of the sun in a solemn and impressive silence. Over the low river-mist hiding the boat with its freight of young passionate life and all-forgetful happiness, the stars paled, and a silvery-grey tint crept over the sky from the eastward. There was not a breath of wind, not a rustle of stirring leaf, not a splash of leaping fish to disturb the serene repose of all living things on the banks of the great river. Earth, river, and sky were wrapped up in a deep sleep, from which it seemed there would be no waking. All the seething life and movement of tropical nature seemed concentrated in the ardent eyes, in the tumultuously beating hearts of the two beings drifting in the canoe, under the white canopy of mist, over the smooth surface of the river. Suddenly a great sheaf of yellow rays shot upwards from behind the black curtain of trees lining the banks of the Pantai. The stars went out; the little black clouds at the zenith glowed for a moment with crimson tints, and the thick mist, stirred by the gentle breeze, the sigh of waking nature, whirled round and broke into fantastically torn pieces, disclosing the wrinkled surface of the river sparkling in the broad light of day. Great flocks of white birds wheeled screaming above the swaying tree-tops. The sun had risen on the east coast. Dain was the first to return to the cares of everyday life. He rose and glanced rapidly up and down the river. His eye detected Babalatchi's boat astern, and another small black speck on the glittering water, which was Taminah's canoe. He moved cautiously forward, and, kneeling, took up a paddle; Nina at the stern took hers. They bent their bodies to the work, throwing up the water at every stroke, and the small craft went swiftly ahead, leaving a narrow wake fringed with a lace-like border of white and gleaming foam. Without turning his head, Dain spoke. "Somebody behind us, Nina. We must not let him gain. I think he is too far to recognise us." "Somebody before us also," panted out Nina, without ceasing to paddle. "I think I know," rejoined Dain. "The sun shines over there, but I fancy it is the girl Taminah. She comes down every morning to my brig to sell cakes--stays often all day. It does not matter; steer more into the bank; we must get under the bushes. My canoe is hidden not far from here." As he spoke his eyes watched the broad-leaved nipas which they were brushing in their swift and silent course. "Look out, Nina," he said at last; "there, where the water palms end and the twigs hang down under the leaning tree. Steer for the big green branch." He stood up attentive, and the boat drifted slowly in shore, Nina guiding it by a gentle and skilful movement of her paddle. When near enough Dain laid hold of the big branch, and leaning back shot the canoe under a low green archway of thickly matted creepers giving access to a miniature bay formed by the caving in of the bank during the last great flood. His own boat was there anchored by a stone, and he stepped into it, keeping his hand on the gunwale of Nina's canoe. In a moment the two little nutshells with their occupants floated quietly side by side, reflected by the black water in the dim light struggling through a high canopy of dense foliage; while above, away up in the broad day, flamed immense red blossoms sending down on their heads a shower of great dew-sparkling petals that descended rotating slowly in a continuous and perfumed stream; and over them, under them, in the sleeping water; all around them in a ring of luxuriant vegetation bathed in the warm air charged with strong and harsh perfumes, the intense work of tropical nature went on: plants shooting upward, entwined, interlaced in inextricable confusion, climbing madly and brutally over each other in the terrible silence of a desperate struggle towards the life-giving sunshine above--as if struck with sudden horror at the seething mass of corruption below, at the death and decay from which they sprang. "We must part now," said Dain, after a long silence. "You must return at once, Nina. I will wait till the brig drifts down here, and shall get on board then." "And will you be long away, Dain?" asked Nina, in a low voice. "Long!" exclaimed Dain. "Would a man willingly remain long in a dark place? When I am not near you, Nina, I am like a man that is blind. What is life to me without light?" Nina leaned over, and with a proud and happy smile took Dain's face between her hands, looking into his eyes with a fond yet questioning gaze. Apparently she found there the confirmation of the words just said, for a feeling of grateful security lightened for her the weight of sorrow at the hour of parting. She believed that he, the descendant of many great Rajahs, the son of a great chief, the master of life and death, knew the sunshine of life only in her presence. An immense wave of gratitude and love welled forth out of her heart towards him. How could she make an outward and visible sign of all she felt for the man who had filled her heart with so much joy and so much pride? And in the great tumult of passion, like a flash of lightning came to her the reminiscence of that despised and almost forgotten civilisation she had only glanced at in her days of restraint, of sorrow, and of anger. In the cold ashes of that hateful and miserable past she would find the sign of love, the fitting expression of the boundless felicity of the present, the pledge of a bright and splendid future. She threw her arms around Dain's neck and pressed her lips to his in a long and burning kiss. He closed his eyes, surprised and frightened at the storm raised in his breast by the strange and to him hitherto unknown contact, and long after Nina had pushed her canoe into the river he remained motionless, without daring to open his eyes, afraid to lose the sensation of intoxicating delight he had tasted for the first time. Now he wanted but immortality, he thought, to be the equal of gods, and the creature that could open so the gates of paradise must be his--soon would be his for ever! He opened his eyes in time to see through the archway of creepers the bows of his brig come slowly into view, as the vessel drifted past on its way down the river. He must go on board now, he thought; yet he was loth to leave the place where he had learned to know what happiness meant. "Time yet. Let them go," he muttered to himself; and he closed his eyes again under the red shower of scented petals, trying to recall the scene with all its delight and all its fear. He must have been able to join his brig in time, after all, and found much occupation outside, for it was in vain that Almayer looked for his friend's speedy return. The lower reach of the river where he so often and so impatiently directed his eyes remained deserted, save for the rapid flitting of some fishing canoe; but down the upper reaches came black clouds and heavy showers heralding the final setting in of the rainy season with its thunderstorms and great floods making the river almost impossible of ascent for native canoes. Almayer, strolling along the muddy beach between his houses, watched uneasily the river rising inch by inch, creeping slowly nearer to the boats, now ready and hauled up in a row under the cover of dripping Kajang-mats. Fortune seemed to elude his grasp, and in his weary tramp backwards and forwards under the steady rain falling from the lowering sky, a sort of despairing indifference took possession of him. What did it matter? It was just his luck! Those two infernal savages, Lakamba and Dain, induced him, with their promises of help, to spend his last dollar in the fitting out of boats, and now one of them was gone somewhere, and the other shut up in his stockade would give no sign of life. No, not even the scoundrelly Babalatchi, thought Almayer, would show his face near him, now they had sold him all the rice, brass gongs, and cloth necessary for his expedition. They had his very last coin, and did not care whether he went or stayed. And with a gesture of abandoned discouragement Almayer would climb up slowly to the verandah of his new house to get out of the rain, and leaning on the front rail with his head sunk between his shoulders he would abandon himself to the current of bitter thoughts, oblivious of the flight of time and the pangs of hunger, deaf to the shrill cries of his wife calling him to the evening meal. When, roused from his sad meditations by the first roll of the evening thunderstorm, he stumbled slowly towards the glimmering light of his old house, his half-dead hope made his ears preternaturally acute to any sound on the river. Several nights in succession he had heard the splash of paddles and had seen the indistinct form of a boat, but when hailing the shadowy apparition, his heart bounding with sudden hope of hearing Dain's voice, he was disappointed each time by the sulky answer conveying to him the intelligence that the Arabs were on the river, bound on a visit to the home-staying Lakamba. This caused him many sleepless nights, spent in speculating upon the kind of villainy those estimable personages were hatching now. At last, when all hope seemed dead, he was overjoyed on hearing Dain's voice; but Dain also appeared very anxious to see Lakamba, and Almayer felt uneasy owing to a deep and ineradicable distrust as to that ruler's disposition towards himself. Still, Dain had returned at last. Evidently he meant to keep to his bargain. Hope revived, and that night Almayer slept soundly, while Nina watched the angry river under the lash of the thunderstorm sweeping onward towards the sea. CHAPTER VI. Dain was not long in crossing the river after leaving Almayer. He landed at the water-gate of the stockade enclosing the group of houses which composed the residence of the Rajah of Sambir. Evidently somebody was expected there, for the gate was open, and men with torches were ready to precede the visitor up the inclined plane of planks leading to the largest house where Lakamba actually resided, and where all the business of state was invariably transacted. The other buildings within the enclosure served only to accommodate the numerous household and the wives of the ruler. Lakamba's own house was a strong structure of solid planks, raised on high piles, with a verandah of split bamboos surrounding it on all sides; the whole was covered in by an immensely high-pitched roof of palm-leaves, resting on beams blackened by the smoke of many torches. The building stood parallel to the river, one of its long sides facing the water-gate of the stockade. There was a door in the short side looking up the river, and the inclined plank-way led straight from the gate to that door. By the uncertain light of smoky torches, Dain noticed the vague outlines of a group of armed men in the dark shadows to his right. From that group Babalatchi stepped forward to open the door, and Dain entered the audience chamber of the Rajah's residence. About one- third of the house was curtained off, by heavy stuff of European manufacture, for that purpose; close to the curtain there was a big arm- chair of some black wood, much carved, and before it a rough deal table. Otherwise the room was only furnished with mats in great profusion. To the left of the entrance stood a rude arm-rack, with three rifles with fixed bayonets in it. By the wall, in the shadow, the body-guard of Lakamba--all friends or relations--slept in a confused heap of brown arms, legs, and multi-coloured garments, from whence issued an occasional snore or a subdued groan of some uneasy sleeper. An European lamp with a green shade standing on the table made all this indistinctly visible to Dain. "You are welcome to your rest here," said Babalatchi, looking at Dain interrogatively. "I must speak to the Rajah at once," answered Dain. Babalatchi made a gesture of assent, and, turning to the brass gong suspended under the arm-rack, struck two sharp blows. The ear-splitting din woke up the guard. The snores ceased; outstretched legs were drawn in; the whole heap moved, and slowly resolved itself into individual forms, with much yawning and rubbing of sleepy eyes; behind the curtains there was a burst of feminine chatter; then the bass voice of Lakamba was heard. "Is that the Arab trader?" "No, Tuan," answered Babalatchi; "Dain has returned at last. He is here for an important talk, bitcharra--if you mercifully consent." Evidently Lakamba's mercy went so far--for in a short while he came out from behind the curtain--but it did not go to the length of inducing him to make an extensive toilet. A short red sarong tightened hastily round his hips was his only garment. The merciful ruler of Sambir looked sleepy and rather sulky. He sat in the arm-chair, his knees well apart, his elbows on the arm-rests, his chin on his breast, breathing heavily and waiting malevolently for Dain to open the important talk. But Dain did not seem anxious to begin. He directed his gaze towards Babalatchi, squatting comfortably at the feet of his master, and remained silent with a slightly bent head as if in attentive expectation of coming words of wisdom. Babalatchi coughed discreetly, and, leaning forward, pushed over a few mats for Dain to sit upon, then lifting up his squeaky voice he assured him with eager volubility of everybody's delight at this long-looked-for return. His heart had hungered for the sight of Dain's face, and his ears were withering for the want of the refreshing sound of his voice. Everybody's hearts and ears were in the same sad predicament, according to Babalatchi, as he indicated with a sweeping gesture the other bank of the river where the settlement slumbered peacefully, unconscious of the great joy awaiting it on the morrow when Dain's presence amongst them would be disclosed. "For"--went on Babalatchi--"what is the joy of a poor man if not the open hand of a generous trader or of a great--" Here he checked himself abruptly with a calculated embarrassment of manner, and his roving eye sought the floor, while an apologetic smile dwelt for a moment on his misshapen lips. Once or twice during this opening speech an amused expression flitted across Dain's face, soon to give way, however, to an appearance of grave concern. On Lakamba's brow a heavy frown had settled, and his lips moved angrily as he listened to his Prime Minister's oratory. In the silence that fell upon the room when Babalatchi ceased speaking arose a chorus of varied snores from the corner where the body-guard had resumed their interrupted slumbers, but the distant rumble of thunder filling then Nina's heart with apprehension for the safety of her lover passed unheeded by those three men intent each on their own purposes, for life or death. After a short silence, Babalatchi, discarding now the flowers of polite eloquence, spoke again, but in short and hurried sentences and in a low voice. They had been very uneasy. Why did Dain remain so long absent? The men dwelling on the lower reaches of the river heard the reports of big guns and saw a fire-ship of the Dutch amongst the islands of the estuary. So they were anxious. Rumours of a disaster had reached Abdulla a few days ago, and since then they had been waiting for Dain's return under the apprehension of some misfortune. For days they had closed their eyes in fear, and woke up alarmed, and walked abroad trembling, like men before an enemy. And all on account of Dain. Would he not allay their fears for his safety, not for themselves? They were quiet and faithful, and devoted to the great Rajah in Batavia--may his fate lead him ever to victory for the joy and profit of his servants! "And here," went on Babalatchi, "Lakamba my master was getting thin in his anxiety for the trader he had taken under his protection; and so was Abdulla, for what would wicked men not say if perchance--" "Be silent, fool!" growled Lakamba, angrily. Babalatchi subsided into silence with a satisfied smile, while Dain, who had been watching him as if fascinated, turned with a sigh of relief towards the ruler of Sambir. Lakamba did not move, and, without raising his head, looked at Dain from under his eyebrows, breathing audibly, with pouted lips, in an air of general discontent. "Speak! O Dain!" he said at last. "We have heard many rumours. Many nights in succession has my friend Reshid come here with bad tidings. News travels fast along the coast. But they may be untrue; there are more lies in men's mouths in these days than when I was young, but I am not easier to deceive now." "All my words are true," said Dain, carelessly. "If you want to know what befell my brig, then learn that it is in the hands of the Dutch. Believe me, Rajah," he went on, with sudden energy, "the Orang Blanda have good friends in Sambir, or else how did they know I was coming thence?" Lakamba gave Dain a short and hostile glance. Babalatchi rose quietly, and, going to the arm-rack, struck the gong violently. Outside the door there was a shuffle of bare feet; inside, the guard woke up and sat staring in sleepy surprise. "Yes, you faithful friend of the white Rajah," went on Dain, scornfully, turning to Babalatchi, who had returned to his place, "I have escaped, and I am here to gladden your heart. When I saw the Dutch ship I ran the brig inside the reefs and put her ashore. They did not dare to follow with the ship, so they sent the boats. We took to ours and tried to get away, but the ship dropped fireballs at us, and killed many of my men. But I am left, O Babalatchi! The Dutch are coming here. They are seeking for me. They are coming to ask their faithful friend Lakamba and his slave Babalatchi. Rejoice!" But neither of his hearers appeared to be in a joyful mood. Lakamba had put one leg over his knee, and went on gently scratching it with a meditative air, while Babalatchi, sitting cross-legged, seemed suddenly to become smaller and very limp, staring straight before him vacantly. The guard evinced some interest in the proceedings, stretching themselves full length on the mats to be nearer the speaker. One of them got up and now stood leaning against the arm-rack, playing absently with the fringes of his sword-hilt. Dain waited till the crash of thunder had died away in distant mutterings before he spoke again. "Are you dumb, O ruler of Sambir, or is the son of a great Rajah unworthy of your notice? I am come here to seek refuge and to warn you, and want to know what you intend doing." "You came here because of the white man's daughter," retorted Lakamba, quickly. "Your refuge was with your father, the Rajah of Bali, the Son of Heaven, the 'Anak Agong' himself. What am I to protect great princes? Only yesterday I planted rice in a burnt clearing; to-day you say I hold your life in my hand." Babalatchi glanced at his master. "No man can escape his fate," he murmured piously. "When love enters a man's heart he is like a child--without any understanding. Be merciful, Lakamba," he added, twitching the corner of the Rajah's sarong warningly. Lakamba snatched away the skirt of the sarong angrily. Under the dawning comprehension of intolerable embarrassments caused by Dain's return to Sambir he began to lose such composure as he had been, till then, able to maintain; and now he raised his voice loudly above the whistling of the wind and the patter of rain on the roof in the hard squall passing over the house. "You came here first as a trader with sweet words and great promises, asking me to look the other way while you worked your will on the white man there. And I did. What do you want now? When I was young I fought. Now I am old, and want peace. It is easier for me to have you killed than to fight the Dutch. It is better for me." The squall had now passed, and, in the short stillness of the lull in the storm, Lakamba repeated softly, as if to himself, "Much easier. Much better." Dain did not seem greatly discomposed by the Rajah's threatening words. While Lakamba was speaking he had glanced once rapidly over his shoulder, just to make sure that there was nobody behind him, and, tranquillised in that respect, he had extracted a siri-box out of the folds of his waist- cloth, and was wrapping carefully the little bit of betel-nut and a small pinch of lime in the green leaf tendered him politely by the watchful Babalatchi. He accepted this as a peace-offering from the silent statesman--a kind of mute protest against his master's undiplomatic violence, and as an omen of a possible understanding to be arrived at yet. Otherwise Dain was not uneasy. Although recognising the justice of Lakamba's surmise that he had come back to Sambir only for the sake of the white man's daughter, yet he was not conscious of any childish lack of understanding, as suggested by Babalatchi. In fact, Dain knew very well that Lakamba was too deeply implicated in the gunpowder smuggling to care for an investigation the Dutch authorities into that matter. When sent off by his father, the independent Rajah of Bali, at the time when the hostilities between Dutch and Malays threatened to spread from Sumatra over the whole archipelago, Dain had found all the big traders deaf to his guarded proposals, and above the temptation of the great prices he was ready to give for gunpowder. He went to Sambir as a last and almost hopeless resort, having heard in Macassar of the white man there, and of the regular steamer trading from Singapore--allured also by the fact that there was no Dutch resident on the river, which would make things easier, no doubt. His hopes got nearly wrecked against the stubborn loyalty of Lakamba arising from well-understood self-interest; but at last the young man's generosity, his persuasive enthusiasm, the prestige of his father's great name, overpowered the prudent hesitation of the ruler of Sambir. Lakamba would have nothing to do himself with any illegal traffic. He also objected to the Arabs being made use of in that matter; but he suggested Almayer, saying that he was a weak man easily persuaded, and that his friend, the English captain of the steamer, could be made very useful--very likely even would join in the business, smuggling the powder in the steamer without Abdulla's knowledge. There again Dain met in Almayer with unexpected resistance; Lakamba had to send Babalatchi over with the solemn promise that his eyes would be shut in friendship for the white man, Dain paying for the promise and the friendship in good silver guilders of the hated Orang Blanda. Almayer, at last consenting, said the powder would be obtained, but Dain must trust him with dollars to send to Singapore in payment for it. He would induce Ford to buy and smuggle it in the steamer on board the brig. He did not want any money for himself out of the transaction, but Dain must help him in his great enterprise after sending off the brig. Almayer had explained to Dain that he could not trust Lakamba alone in that matter; he would be afraid of losing his treasure and his life through the cupidity of the Rajah; yet the Rajah had to be told, and insisted on taking a share in that operation, or else his eyes would remain shut no longer. To this Almayer had to submit. Had Dain not seen Nina he would have probably refused to engage himself and his men in the projected expedition to Gunong Mas--the mountain of gold. As it was he intended to return with half of his men as soon as the brig was clear of the reefs, but the persistent chase given him by the Dutch frigate had forced him to run south and ultimately to wreck and destroy his vessel in order to preserve his liberty or perhaps even his life. Yes, he had come back to Sambir for Nina, although aware that the Dutch would look for him there, but he had also calculated his chances of safety in Lakamba's hands. For all his ferocious talk, the merciful ruler would not kill him, for he had long ago been impressed with the notion that Dain possessed the secret of the white man's treasure; neither would he give him up to the Dutch, for fear of some fatal disclosure of complicity in the treasonable trade. So Dain felt tolerably secure as he sat meditating quietly his answer to the Rajah's bloodthirsty speech. Yes, he would point out to him the aspect of his position should he--Dain--fall into the hands of the Dutch and should he speak the truth. He would have nothing more to lose then, and he would speak the truth. And if he did return to Sambir, disturbing thereby Lakamba's peace of mind, what then? He came to look after his property. Did he not pour a stream of silver into Mrs. Almayer's greedy lap? He had paid, for the girl, a price worthy of a great prince, although unworthy of that delightfully maddening creature for whom his untamed soul longed in an intensity of desire far more tormenting than the sharpest pain. He wanted his happiness. He had the right to be in Sambir. He rose, and, approaching the table, leaned both his elbows on it; Lakamba responsively edged his seat a little closer, while Babalatchi scrambled to his feet and thrust his inquisitive head between his master's and Dain's. They interchanged their ideas rapidly, speaking in whispers into each other's faces, very close now, Dain suggesting, Lakamba contradicting, Babalatchi conciliating and anxious in his vivid apprehension of coming difficulties. He spoke most, whispering earnestly, turning his head slowly from side to side so as to bring his solitary eye to bear upon each of his interlocutors in turn. Why should there be strife? said he. Let Tuan Dain, whom he loved only less than his master, go trustfully into hiding. There were many places for that. Bulangi's house away in the clearing was best. Bulangi was a safe man. In the network of crooked channels no white man could find his way. White men were strong, but very foolish. It was undesirable to fight them, but deception was easy. They were like silly women--they did not know the use of reason, and he was a match for any of them--went on Babalatchi, with all the confidence of deficient experience. Probably the Dutch would seek Almayer. Maybe they would take away their countryman if they were suspicious of him. That would be good. After the Dutch went away Lakamba and Dain would get the treasure without any trouble, and there would be one person less to share it. Did he not speak wisdom? Will Tuan Dain go to Bulangi's house till the danger is over, go at once? Dain accepted this suggestion of going into hiding with a certain sense of conferring a favour upon Lakamba and the anxious statesman, but he met the proposal of going at once with a decided no, looking Babalatchi meaningly in the eye. The statesman sighed as a man accepting the inevitable would do, and pointed silently towards the other bank of the river. Dain bent his head slowly. "Yes, I am going there," he said. "Before the day comes?" asked Babalatchi. "I am going there now," answered Dain, decisively. "The Orang Blanda will not be here before to-morrow night, perhaps, and I must tell Almayer of our arrangements." "No, Tuan. No; say nothing," protested Babalatchi. "I will go over myself at sunrise and let him know." "I will see," said Dain, preparing to go. The thunderstorm was recommencing outside, the heavy clouds hanging low overhead now. There was a constant rumble of distant thunder punctuated by the nearer sharp crashes, and in the continuous play of blue lightning the woods and the river showed fitfully, with all the elusive distinctness of detail characteristic of such a scene. Outside the door of the Rajah's house Dain and Babalatchi stood on the shaking verandah as if dazed and stunned by the violence of the storm. They stood there amongst the cowering forms of the Rajah's slaves and retainers seeking shelter from the rain, and Dain called aloud to his boatmen, who responded with an unanimous "Ada! Tuan!" while they looked uneasily at the river. "This is a great flood!" shouted Babalatchi into Dain's ear. "The river is very angry. Look! Look at the drifting logs! Can you go?" Dain glanced doubtfully on the livid expanse of seething water bounded far away on the other side by the narrow black line of the forests. Suddenly, in a vivid white flash, the low point of land with the bending trees on it and Almayer's house, leaped into view, flickered and disappeared. Dain pushed Babalatchi aside and ran down to the water-gate followed by his shivering boatmen. Babalatchi backed slowly in and closed the door, then turned round and looked silently upon Lakamba. The Rajah sat still, glaring stonily upon the table, and Babalatchi gazed curiously at the perplexed mood of the man he had served so many years through good and evil fortune. No doubt the one-eyed statesman felt within his savage and much sophisticated breast the unwonted feelings of sympathy with, and perhaps even pity for, the man he called his master. From the safe position of a confidential adviser, he could, in the dim vista of past years, see himself--a casual cut-throat--finding shelter under that man's roof in the modest rice-clearing of early beginnings. Then came a long period of unbroken success, of wise counsels, and deep plottings resolutely carried out by the fearless Lakamba, till the whole east coast from Poulo Laut to Tanjong Batu listened to Babalatchi's wisdom speaking through the mouth of the ruler of Sambir. In those long years how many dangers escaped, how many enemies bravely faced, how many white men successfully circumvented! And now he looked upon the result of so many years of patient toil: the fearless Lakamba cowed by the shadow of an impending trouble. The ruler was growing old, and Babalatchi, aware of an uneasy feeling at the pit of his stomach, put both his hands there with a suddenly vivid and sad perception of the fact that he himself was growing old too; that the time of reckless daring was past for both of them, and that they had to seek refuge in prudent cunning. They wanted peace; they were disposed to reform; they were ready even to retrench, so as to have the wherewithal to bribe the evil days away, if bribed away they could be. Babalatchi sighed for the second time that night as he squatted again at his master's feet and tendered him his betel-nut box in mute sympathy. And they sat there in close yet silent communion of betel-nut chewers, moving their jaws slowly, expectorating decorously into the wide- mouthed brass vessel they passed to one another, and listening to the awful din of the battling elements outside. "There is a very great flood," remarked Babalatchi, sadly. "Yes," said Lakamba. "Did Dain go?" "He went, Tuan. He ran down to the river like a man possessed of the Sheitan himself." There was another long pause. "He may get drowned," suggested Lakamba at last, with some show of interest. "The floating logs are many," answered Babalatchi, "but he is a good swimmer," he added languidly. "He ought to live," said Lakamba; "he knows where the treasure is." Babalatchi assented with an ill-humoured grunt. His want of success in penetrating the white man's secret as to the locality where the gold was to be found was a sore point with the statesman of Sambir, as the only conspicuous failure in an otherwise brilliant career. A great peace had now succeeded the turmoil of the storm. Only the little belated clouds, which hurried past overhead to catch up the main body flashing silently in the distance, sent down short showers that pattered softly with a soothing hiss over the palm-leaf roof. Lakamba roused himself from his apathy with an appearance of having grasped the situation at last. "Babalatchi," he called briskly, giving him a slight kick. "Ada Tuan! I am listening." "If the Orang Blanda come here, Babalatchi, and take Almayer to Batavia to punish him for smuggling gunpowder, what will he do, you think?" "I do not know, Tuan." "You are a fool," commented Lakamba, exultingly. "He will tell them where the treasure is, so as to find mercy. He will." Babalatchi looked up at his master and nodded his head with by no means a joyful surprise. He had not thought of this; there was a new complication. "Almayer must die," said Lakamba, decisively, "to make our secret safe. He must die quietly, Babalatchi. You must do it." Babalatchi assented, and rose wearily to his feet. "To-morrow?" he asked. "Yes; before the Dutch come. He drinks much coffee," answered Lakamba, with seeming irrelevancy. Babalatchi stretched himself yawning, but Lakamba, in the flattering consciousness of a knotty problem solved by his own unaided intellectual efforts, grew suddenly very wakeful. "Babalatchi," he said to the exhausted statesman, "fetch the box of music the white captain gave me. I cannot sleep." At this order a deep shade of melancholy settled upon Babalatchi's features. He went reluctantly behind the curtain and soon reappeared carrying in his arms a small hand-organ, which he put down on the table with an air of deep dejection. Lakamba settled himself comfortably in his arm-chair. "Turn, Babalatchi, turn," he murmured, with closed eyes. Babalatchi's hand grasped the handle with the energy of despair, and as he turned, the deep gloom on his countenance changed into an expression of hopeless resignation. Through the open shutter the notes of Verdi's music floated out on the great silence over the river and forest. Lakamba listened with closed eyes and a delighted smile; Babalatchi turned, at times dozing off and swaying over, then catching himself up in a great fright with a few quick turns of the handle. Nature slept in an exhausted repose after the fierce turmoil, while under the unsteady hand of the statesman of Sambir the Trovatore fitfully wept, wailed, and bade good-bye to his Leonore again and again in a mournful round of tearful and endless iteration. CHAPTER VII. The bright sunshine of the clear mistless morning, after the stormy night, flooded the main path of the settlement leading from the low shore of the Pantai branch of the river to the gate of Abdulla's compound. The path was deserted this morning; it stretched its dark yellow surface, hard beaten by the tramp of many bare feet, between the clusters of palm trees, whose tall trunks barred it with strong black lines at irregular intervals, while the newly risen sun threw the shadows of their leafy heads far away over the roofs of the buildings lining the river, even over the river itself as it flowed swiftly and silently past the deserted houses. For the houses were deserted too. On the narrow strip of trodden grass intervening between their open doors and the road, the morning fires smouldered untended, sending thin fluted columns of smoke into the cool air, and spreading the thinnest veil of mysterious blue haze over the sunlit solitude of the settlement. Almayer, just out of his hammock, gazed sleepily at the unwonted appearance of Sambir, wondering vaguely at the absence of life. His own house was very quiet; he could not hear his wife's voice, nor the sound of Nina's footsteps in the big room, opening on the verandah, which he called his sitting-room, whenever, in the company of white men, he wished to assert his claims to the commonplace decencies of civilisation. Nobody ever sat there; there was nothing there to sit upon, for Mrs. Almayer in her savage moods, when excited by the reminiscences of the piratical period of her life, had torn off the curtains to make sarongs for the slave-girls, and had burnt the showy furniture piecemeal to cook the family rice. But Almayer was not thinking of his furniture now. He was thinking of Dain's return, of Dain's nocturnal interview with Lakamba, of its possible influence on his long-matured plans, now nearing the period of their execution. He was also uneasy at the non-appearance of Dain who had promised him an early visit. "The fellow had plenty of time to cross the river," he mused, "and there was so much to be done to-day. The settling of details for the early start on the morrow; the launching of the boats; the thousand and one finishing touches. For the expedition must start complete, nothing should be forgotten, nothing should--" The sense of the unwonted solitude grew upon him suddenly, and in the unusual silence he caught himself longing even for the usually unwelcome sound of his wife's voice to break the oppressive stillness which seemed, to his frightened fancy, to portend the advent of some new misfortune. "What has happened?" he muttered half aloud, as he shuffled in his imperfectly adjusted slippers towards the balustrade of the verandah. "Is everybody asleep or dead?" The settlement was alive and very much awake. It was awake ever since the early break of day, when Mahmat Banjer, in a fit of unheard-of energy, arose and, taking up his hatchet, stepped over the sleeping forms of his two wives and walked shivering to the water's edge to make sure that the new house he was building had not floated away during the night. The house was being built by the enterprising Mahmat on a large raft, and he had securely moored it just inside the muddy point of land at the junction of the two branches of the Pantai so as to be out of the way of drifting logs that would no doubt strand on the point during the freshet. Mahmat walked through the wet grass saying bourrouh, and cursing softly to himself the hard necessities of active life that drove him from his warm couch into the cold of the morning. A glance showed him that his house was still there, and he congratulated himself on his foresight in hauling it out of harm's way, for the increasing light showed him a confused wrack of drift-logs, half-stranded on the muddy flat, interlocked into a shapeless raft by their branches, tossing to and fro and grinding together in the eddy caused by the meeting currents of the two branches of the river. Mahmat walked down to the water's edge to examine the rattan moorings of his house just as the sun cleared the trees of the forest on the opposite shore. As he bent over the fastenings he glanced again carelessly at the unquiet jumble of logs and saw there something that caused him to drop his hatchet and stand up, shading his eyes with his hand from the rays of the rising sun. It was something red, and the logs rolled over it, at times closing round it, sometimes hiding it. It looked to him at first like a strip of red cloth. The next moment Mahmat had made it out and raised a great shout. "Ah ya! There!" yelled Mahmat. "There's a man amongst the logs." He put the palms of his hand to his lips and shouted, enunciating distinctly, his face turned towards the settlement: "There's a body of a man in the river! Come and see! A dead--stranger!" The women of the nearest house were already outside kindling the fires and husking the morning rice. They took up the cry shrilly, and it travelled so from house to house, dying away in the distance. The men rushed out excited but silent, and ran towards the muddy point where the unconscious logs tossed and ground and bumped and rolled over the dead stranger with the stupid persistency of inanimate things. The women followed, neglecting their domestic duties and disregarding the possibilities of domestic discontent, while groups of children brought up the rear, warbling joyously, in the delight of unexpected excitement. Almayer called aloud for his wife and daughter, but receiving no response, stood listening intently. The murmur of the crowd reached him faintly, bringing with it the assurance of some unusual event. He glanced at the river just as he was going to leave the verandah and checked himself at the sight of a small canoe crossing over from the Rajah's landing-place. The solitary occupant (in whom Almayer soon recognised Babalatchi) effected the crossing a little below the house and paddled up to the Lingard jetty in the dead water under the bank. Babalatchi clambered out slowly and went on fastening his canoe with fastidious care, as if not in a hurry to meet Almayer, whom he saw looking at him from the verandah. This delay gave Almayer time to notice and greatly wonder at Babalatchi's official get-up. The statesman of Sambir was clad in a costume befitting his high rank. A loudly checkered sarong encircled his waist, and from its many folds peeped out the silver hilt of the kriss that saw the light only on great festivals or during official receptions. Over the left shoulder and across the otherwise unclad breast of the aged diplomatist glistened a patent leather belt bearing a brass plate with the arms of Netherlands under the inscription, "Sultan of Sambir." Babalatchi's head was covered by a red turban, whose fringed ends falling over the left cheek and shoulder gave to his aged face a ludicrous expression of joyous recklessness. When the canoe was at last fastened to his satisfaction he straightened himself up, shaking down the folds of his sarong, and moved with long strides towards Almayer's house, swinging regularly his long ebony staff, whose gold head ornamented with precious stones flashed in the morning sun. Almayer waved his hand to the right towards the point of land, to him invisible, but in full view from the jetty. "Oh, Babalatchi! oh!" he called out; "what is the matter there? can you see?" Babalatchi stopped and gazed intently at the crowd on the river bank, and after a little while the astonished Almayer saw him leave the path, gather up his sarong in one hand, and break into a trot through the grass towards the muddy point. Almayer, now greatly interested, ran down the steps of the verandah. The murmur of men's voices and the shrill cries of women reached him quite distinctly now, and as soon as he turned the corner of his house he could see the crowd on the low promontory swaying and pushing round some object of interest. He could indistinctly hear Babalatchi's voice, then the crowd opened before the aged statesman and closed after him with an excited hum, ending in a loud shout. As Almayer approached the throng a man ran out and rushed past him towards the settlement, unheeding his call to stop and explain the cause of this excitement. On the very outskirts of the crowd Almayer found himself arrested by an unyielding mass of humanity, regardless of his entreaties for a passage, insensible to his gentle pushes as he tried to work his way through it towards the riverside. In the midst of his gentle and slow progress he fancied suddenly he had heard his wife's voice in the thickest of the throng. He could not mistake very well Mrs. Almayer's high-pitched tones, yet the words were too indistinct for him to understand their purport. He paused in his endeavours to make a passage for himself, intending to get some intelligence from those around him, when a long and piercing shriek rent the air, silencing the murmurs of the crowd and the voices of his informants. For a moment Almayer remained as if turned into stone with astonishment and horror, for he was certain now that he had heard his wife wailing for the dead. He remembered Nina's unusual absence, and maddened by his apprehensions as to her safety, he pushed blindly and violently forward, the crowd falling back with cries of surprise and pain before his frantic advance. On the point of land in a little clear space lay the body of the stranger just hauled out from amongst the logs. On one side stood Babalatchi, his chin resting on the head of his staff and his one eye gazing steadily at the shapeless mass of broken limbs, torn flesh, and bloodstained rags. As Almayer burst through the ring of horrified spectators, Mrs. Almayer threw her own head-veil over the upturned face of the drowned man, and, squatting by it, with another mournful howl, sent a shiver through the now silent crowd. Mahmat, dripping wet, turned to Almayer, eager to tell his tale. In the first moment of reaction from the anguish of his fear the sunshine seemed to waver before Almayer's eyes, and he listened to words spoken around him without comprehending their meaning. When, by a strong effort of will, he regained the possession of his senses, Mahmat was saying-- "That is the way, Tuan. His sarong was caught in the broken branch, and he hung with his head under water. When I saw what it was I did not want it here. I wanted it to get clear and drift away. Why should we bury a stranger in the midst of our houses for his ghost to frighten our women and children? Have we not enough ghosts about this place?" A murmur of approval interrupted him here. Mahmat looked reproachfully at Babalatchi. "But the Tuan Babalatchi ordered me to drag the body ashore"--he went on looking round at his audience, but addressing himself only to Almayer--"and I dragged him by the feet; in through the mud I have dragged him, although my heart longed to see him float down the river to strand perchance on Bulangi's clearing--may his father's grave be defiled!" There was subdued laughter at this, for the enmity of Mahmat and Bulangi was a matter of common notoriety and of undying interest to the inhabitants of Sambir. In the midst of that mirth Mrs. Almayer wailed suddenly again. "Allah! What ails the woman!" exclaimed Mahmat, angrily. "Here, I have touched this carcass which came from nobody knows where, and have most likely defiled myself before eating rice. By orders of Tuan Babalatchi I did this thing to please the white man. Are you pleased, O Tuan Almayer? And what will be my recompense? Tuan Babalatchi said a recompense there will be, and from you. Now consider. I have been defiled, and if not defiled I may be under the spell. Look at his anklets! Who ever heard of a corpse appearing during the night amongst the logs with gold anklets on its legs? There is witchcraft there. However," added Mahmat, after a reflective pause, "I will have the anklet if there is permission, for I have a charm against the ghosts and am not afraid. God is great!" A fresh outburst of noisy grief from Mrs. Almayer checked the flow of Mahmat's eloquence. Almayer, bewildered, looked in turn at his wife, at Mahmat, at Babalatchi, and at last arrested his fascinated gaze on the body lying on the mud with covered face in a grotesquely unnatural contortion of mangled and broken limbs, one twisted and lacerated arm, with white bones protruding in many places through the torn flesh, stretched out; the hand with outspread fingers nearly touching his foot. "Do you know who this is?" he asked of Babalatchi, in a low voice. Babalatchi, staring straight before him, hardly moved his lips, while Mrs. Almayer's persistent lamentations drowned the whisper of his murmured reply intended only for Almayer's ear. "It was fate. Look at your feet, white man. I can see a ring on those torn fingers which I know well." Saying this, Babalatchi stepped carelessly forward, putting his foot as if accidentally on the hand of the corpse and pressing it into the soft mud. He swung his staff menacingly towards the crowd, which fell back a little. "Go away," he said sternly, "and send your women to their cooking fires, which they ought not to have left to run after a dead stranger. This is men's work here. I take him now in the name of the Rajah. Let no man remain here but Tuan Almayer's slaves. Now go!" The crowd reluctantly began to disperse. The women went first, dragging away the children that hung back with all their weight on the maternal hand. The men strolled slowly after them in ever forming and changing groups that gradually dissolved as they neared the settlement and every man regained his own house with steps quickened by the hungry anticipation of the morning rice. Only on the slight elevation where the land sloped down towards the muddy point a few men, either friends or enemies of Mahmat, remained gazing curiously for some time longer at the small group standing around the body on the river bank. "I do not understand what you mean, Babalatchi," said Almayer. "What is the ring you are talking about? Whoever he is, you have trodden the poor fellow's hand right into the mud. Uncover his face," he went on, addressing Mrs. Almayer, who, squatting by the head of the corpse, rocked herself to and fro, shaking from time to time her dishevelled grey locks, and muttering mournfully. "Hai!" exclaimed Mahmat, who had lingered close by. "Look, Tuan; the logs came together so," and here he pressed the palms of his hands together, "and his head must have been between them, and now there is no face for you to look at. There are his flesh and his bones, the nose, and the lips, and maybe his eyes, but nobody could tell the one from the other. It was written the day he was born that no man could look at him in death and be able to say, 'This is my friend's face.'" "Silence, Mahmat; enough!" said Babalatchi, "and take thy eyes off his anklet, thou eater of pigs flesh. Tuan Almayer," he went on, lowering his voice, "have you seen Dain this morning?" Almayer opened his eyes wide and looked alarmed. "No," he said quickly; "haven't you seen him? Is he not with the Rajah? I am waiting; why does he not come?" Babalatchi nodded his head sadly. "He is come, Tuan. He left last night when the storm was great and the river spoke angrily. The night was very black, but he had within him a light that showed the way to your house as smooth as a narrow backwater, and the many logs no bigger than wisps of dried grass. Therefore he went; and now he lies here." And Babalatchi nodded his head towards the body. "How can you tell?" said Almayer, excitedly, pushing his wife aside. He snatched the cover off and looked at the formless mass of flesh, hair, and drying mud, where the face of the drowned man should have been. "Nobody can tell," he added, turning away with a shudder. Babalatchi was on his knees wiping the mud from the stiffened fingers of the outstretched hand. He rose to his feet and flashed before Almayer's eyes a gold ring set with a large green stone. "You know this well," he said. "This never left Dain's hand. I had to tear the flesh now to get it off. Do you believe now?" Almayer raised his hands to his head and let them fall listlessly by his side in the utter abandonment of despair. Babalatchi, looking at him curiously, was astonished to see him smile. A strange fancy had taken possession of Almayer's brain, distracted by this new misfortune. It seemed to him that for many years he had been falling into a deep precipice. Day after day, month after month, year after year, he had been falling, falling, falling; it was a smooth, round, black thing, and the black walls had been rushing upwards with wearisome rapidity. A great rush, the noise of which he fancied he could hear yet; and now, with an awful shock, he had reached the bottom, and behold! he was alive and whole, and Dain was dead with all his bones broken. It struck him as funny. A dead Malay; he had seen many dead Malays without any emotion; and now he felt inclined to weep, but it was over the fate of a white man he knew; a man that fell over a deep precipice and did not die. He seemed somehow to himself to be standing on one side, a little way off, looking at a certain Almayer who was in great trouble. Poor, poor fellow! Why doesn't he cut his throat? He wished to encourage him; he was very anxious to see him lying dead over that other corpse. Why does he not die and end this suffering? He groaned aloud unconsciously and started with affright at the sound of his own voice. Was he going mad? Terrified by the thought he turned away and ran towards his house repeating to himself, I am not going mad; of course not, no, no, no! He tried to keep a firm hold of the idea. Not mad, not mad. He stumbled as he ran blindly up the steps repeating fast and ever faster those words wherein seemed to lie his salvation. He saw Nina standing there, and wished to say something to her, but could not remember what, in his extreme anxiety not to forget that he was not going mad, which he still kept repeating mentally as he ran round the table, till he stumbled against one of the arm-chairs and dropped into it exhausted. He sat staring wildly at Nina, still assuring himself mentally of his own sanity and wondering why the girl shrank from him in open-eyed alarm. What was the matter with her? This was foolish. He struck the table violently with his clenched fist and shouted hoarsely, "Give me some gin! Run!" Then, while Nina ran off, he remained in the chair, very still and quiet, astonished at the noise he had made. Nina returned with a tumbler half filled with gin, and found her father staring absently before him. Almayer felt very tired now, as if he had come from a long journey. He felt as if he had walked miles and miles that morning and now wanted to rest very much. He took the tumbler with a shaking hand, and as he drank his teeth chattered against the glass which he drained and set down heavily on the table. He turned his eyes slowly towards Nina standing beside him, and said steadily-- "Now all is over, Nina. He is dead, and I may as well burn all my boats." He felt very proud of being able to speak so calmly. Decidedly he was not going mad. This certitude was very comforting, and he went on talking about the finding of the body, listening to his own voice complacently. Nina stood quietly, her hand resting lightly on her father's shoulder, her face unmoved, but every line of her features, the attitude of her whole body expressing the most keen and anxious attention. "And so Dain is dead," she said coldly, when her father ceased speaking. Almayer's elaborately calm demeanour gave way in a moment to an outburst of violent indignation. "You stand there as if you were only half alive, and talk to me," he exclaimed angrily, "as if it was a matter of no importance. Yes, he is dead! Do you understand? Dead! What do you care? You never cared; you saw me struggle, and work, and strive, unmoved; and my suffering you could never see. No, never. You have no heart, and you have no mind, or you would have understood that it was for you, for your happiness I was working. I wanted to be rich; I wanted to get away from here. I wanted to see white men bowing low before the power of your beauty and your wealth. Old as I am I wished to seek a strange land, a civilisation to which I am a stranger, so as to find a new life in the contemplation of your high fortunes, of your triumphs, of your happiness. For that I bore patiently the burden of work, of disappointment, of humiliation amongst these savages here, and I had it all nearly in my grasp." He looked at his daughter's attentive face and jumped to his feet upsetting the chair. "Do you hear? I had it all there; so; within reach of my hand." He paused, trying to keep down his rising anger, and failed. "Have you no feeling?" he went on. "Have you lived without hope?" Nina's silence exasperated him; his voice rose, although he tried to master his feelings. "Are you content to live in this misery and die in this wretched hole? Say something, Nina; have you no sympathy? Have you no word of comfort for me? I that loved you so." He waited for a while for an answer, and receiving none shook his fist in his daughter's face. "I believe you are an idiot!" he yelled. He looked round for the chair, picked it up and sat down stiffly. His anger was dead within him, and he felt ashamed of his outburst, yet relieved to think that now he had laid clear before his daughter the inner meaning of his life. He thought so in perfect good faith, deceived by the emotional estimate of his motives, unable to see the crookedness of his ways, the unreality of his aims, the futility of his regrets. And now his heart was filled only with a great tenderness and love for his daughter. He wanted to see her miserable, and to share with her his despair; but he wanted it only as all weak natures long for a companionship in misfortune with beings innocent of its cause. If she suffered herself she would understand and pity him; but now she would not, or could not, find one word of comfort or love for him in his dire extremity. The sense of his absolute loneliness came home to his heart with a force that made him shudder. He swayed and fell forward with his face on the table, his arms stretched straight out, extended and rigid. Nina made a quick movement towards her father and stood looking at the grey head, on the broad shoulders shaken convulsively by the violence of feelings that found relief at last in sobs and tears. Nina sighed deeply and moved away from the table. Her features lost the appearance of stony indifference that had exasperated her father into his outburst of anger and sorrow. The expression of her face, now unseen by her father, underwent a rapid change. She had listened to Almayer's appeal for sympathy, for one word of comfort, apparently indifferent, yet with her breast torn by conflicting impulses raised unexpectedly by events she had not foreseen, or at least did not expect to happen so soon. With her heart deeply moved by the sight of Almayer's misery, knowing it in her power to end it with a word, longing to bring peace to that troubled heart, she heard with terror the voice of her overpowering love commanding her to be silent. And she submitted after a short and fierce struggle of her old self against the new principle of her life. She wrapped herself up in absolute silence, the only safeguard against some fatal admission. She could not trust herself to make a sign, to murmur a word for fear of saying too much; and the very violence of the feelings that stirred the innermost recesses of her soul seemed to turn her person into a stone. The dilated nostrils and the flashing eyes were the only signs of the storm raging within, and those signs of his daughter's emotion Almayer did not see, for his sight was dimmed by self- pity, by anger, and by despair. Had Almayer looked at his daughter as she leant over the front rail of the verandah he could have seen the expression of indifference give way to a look of pain, and that again pass away, leaving the glorious beauty of her face marred by deep-drawn lines of watchful anxiety. The long grass in the neglected courtyard stood very straight before her eyes in the noonday heat. From the river-bank there were voices and a shuffle of bare feet approaching the house; Babalatchi could be heard giving directions to Almayer's men, and Mrs. Almayer's subdued wailing became audible as the small procession bearing the body of the drowned man and headed by that sorrowful matron turned the corner of the house. Babalatchi had taken the broken anklet off the man's leg, and now held it in his hand as he moved by the side of the bearers, while Mahmat lingered behind timidly, in the hopes of the promised reward. "Lay him there," said Babalatchi to Almayer's men, pointing to a pile of drying planks in front of the verandah. "Lay him there. He was a Kaffir and the son of a dog, and he was the white man's friend. He drank the white man's strong water," he added, with affected horror. "That I have seen myself." The men stretched out the broken limbs on two planks they had laid level, while Mrs. Almayer covered the body with a piece of white cotton cloth, and after whispering for some time with Babalatchi departed to her domestic duties. Almayer's men, after laying down their burden, dispersed themselves in quest of shady spots wherein to idle the day away. Babalatchi was left alone by the corpse that laid rigid under the white cloth in the bright sunshine. Nina came down the steps and joined Babalatchi, who put his hand to his forehead, and squatted down with great deference. "You have a bangle there," said Nina, looking down on Babalatchi's upturned face and into his solitary eye. "I have, Mem Putih," returned the polite statesman. Then turning towards Mahmat he beckoned him closer, calling out, "Come here!" Mahmat approached with some hesitation. He avoided looking at Nina, but fixed his eyes on Babalatchi. "Now, listen," said Babalatchi, sharply. "The ring and the anklet you have seen, and you know they belonged to Dain the trader, and to no other. Dain returned last night in a canoe. He spoke with the Rajah, and in the middle of the night left to cross over to the white man's house. There was a great flood, and this morning you found him in the river." "By his feet I dragged him out," muttered Mahmat under his breath. "Tuan Babalatchi, there will be a recompense!" he exclaimed aloud. Babalatchi held up the gold bangle before Mahmat's eyes. "What I have told you, Mahmat, is for all ears. What I give you now is for your eyes only. Take." Mahmat took the bangle eagerly and hid it in the folds of his waist-cloth. "Am I a fool to show this thing in a house with three women in it?" he growled. "But I shall tell them about Dain the trader, and there will be talk enough." He turned and went away, increasing his pace as soon as he was outside Almayer's compound. Babalatchi looked after him till he disappeared behind the bushes. "Have I done well, Mem Putih?" he asked, humbly addressing Nina. "You have," answered Nina. "The ring you may keep yourself." Babalatchi touched his lips and forehead, and scrambled to his feet. He looked at Nina, as if expecting her to say something more, but Nina turned towards the house and went up the steps, motioning him away with her hand. Babalatchi picked up his staff and prepared to go. It was very warm, and he did not care for the long pull to the Rajah's house. Yet he must go and tell the Rajah--tell of the event; of the change in his plans; of all his suspicions. He walked to the jetty and began casting off the rattan painter of his canoe. The broad expanse of the lower reach, with its shimmering surface dotted by the black specks of the fishing canoes, lay before his eyes. The fishermen seemed to be racing. Babalatchi paused in his work, and looked on with sudden interest. The man in the foremost canoe, now within hail of the first houses of Sambir, laid in his paddle and stood up shouting-- "The boats! the boats! The man-of-war's boats are coming! They are here!" In a moment the settlement was again alive with people rushing to the riverside. The men began to unfasten their boats, the women stood in groups looking towards the bend down the river. Above the trees lining the reach a slight puff of smoke appeared like a black stain on the brilliant blue of the cloudless sky. Babalatchi stood perplexed, the painter in his hand. He looked down the reach, then up towards Almayer's house, and back again at the river as if undecided what to do. At last he made the canoe fast again hastily, and ran towards the house and up the steps of the verandah. "Tuan! Tuan!" he called, eagerly. "The boats are coming. The man-of- war's boats. You had better get ready. The officers will come here, I know." Almayer lifted his head slowly from the table, and looked at him stupidly. "Mem Putih!" exclaimed Babalatchi to Nina, "look at him. He does not hear. You must take care," he added meaningly. Nina nodded to him with an uncertain smile, and was going to speak, when a sharp report from the gun mounted in the bow of the steam launch that was just then coming into view arrested the words on her parted lips. The smile died out, and was replaced by the old look of anxious attention. From the hills far away the echo came back like a long-drawn and mournful sigh, as if the land had sent it in answer to the voice of its masters. CHAPTER VIII. The news as to the identity of the body lying now in Almayer's compound spread rapidly over the settlement. During the forenoon most of the inhabitants remained in the long street discussing the mysterious return and the unexpected death of the man who had become known to them as the trader. His arrival during the north-east monsoon, his long sojourn in their midst, his sudden departure with his brig, and, above all, the mysterious appearance of the body, said to be his, amongst the logs, were subjects to wonder at and to talk over and over again with undiminished interest. Mahmat moved from house to house and from group to group, always ready to repeat his tale: how he saw the body caught by the sarong in a forked log; how Mrs. Almayer coming, one of the first, at his cries, recognised it, even before he had it hauled on shore; how Babalatchi ordered him to bring it out of the water. "By the feet I dragged him in, and there was no head," exclaimed Mahmat, "and how could the white man's wife know who it was? She was a witch, it was well known. And did you see how the white man himself ran away at the sight of the body? Like a deer he ran!" And here Mahmat imitated Almayer's long strides, to the great joy of the beholders. And for all his trouble he had nothing. The ring with the green stone Tuan Babalatchi kept. "Nothing! Nothing!" He spat down at his feet in sign of disgust, and left that group to seek further on a fresh audience. The news spreading to the furthermost parts of the settlement found out Abdulla in the cool recess of his godown, where he sat overlooking his Arab clerks and the men loading and unloading the up-country canoes. Reshid, who was busy on the jetty, was summoned into his uncle's presence and found him, as usual, very calm and even cheerful, but very much surprised. The rumour of the capture or destruction of Dain's brig had reached the Arab's ears three days before from the sea-fishermen and through the dwellers on the lower reaches of the river. It had been passed up-stream from neighbour to neighbour till Bulangi, whose clearing was nearest to the settlement, had brought that news himself to Abdulla whose favour he courted. But rumour also spoke of a fight and of Dain's death on board his own vessel. And now all the settlement talked of Dain's visit to the Rajah and of his death when crossing the river in the dark to see Almayer. They could not understand this. Reshid thought that it was very strange. He felt uneasy and doubtful. But Abdulla, after the first shock of surprise, with the old age's dislike for solving riddles, showed a becoming resignation. He remarked that the man was dead now at all events, and consequently no more dangerous. Where was the use to wonder at the decrees of Fate, especially if they were propitious to the True Believers? And with a pious ejaculation to Allah the Merciful, the Compassionate, Abdulla seemed to regard the incident as closed for the present. Not so Reshid. He lingered by his uncle, pulling thoughtfully his neatly trimmed beard. "There are many lies," he murmured. "He has been dead once before, and came to life to die again now. The Dutch will be here before many days and clamour for the man. Shall I not believe my eyes sooner than the tongues of women and idle men?" "They say that the body is being taken to Almayer's compound," said Abdulla. "If you want to go there you must go before the Dutch arrive here. Go late. It should not be said that we have been seen inside that man's enclosure lately." Reshid assented to the truth of this last remark and left his uncle's side. He leaned against the lintel of the big doorway and looked idly across the courtyard through the open gate on to the main road of the settlement. It lay empty, straight, and yellow under the flood of light. In the hot noontide the smooth trunks of palm trees, the outlines of the houses, and away there at the other end of the road the roof of Almayer's house visible over the bushes on the dark background of forest, seemed to quiver in the heat radiating from the steaming earth. Swarms of yellow butterflies rose, and settled to rise again in short flights before Reshid's half-closed eyes. From under his feet arose the dull hum of insects in the long grass of the courtyard. He looked on sleepily. From one of the side paths amongst the houses a woman stepped out on the road, a slight girlish figure walking under the shade of a large tray balanced on its head. The consciousness of something moving stirred Reshid's half-sleeping senses into a comparative wakefulness. He recognised Taminah, Bulangi's slave-girl, with her tray of cakes for sale--an apparition of daily recurrence and of no importance whatever. She was going towards Almayer's house. She could be made useful. He roused himself up and ran towards the gate calling out, "Taminah O!" The girl stopped, hesitated, and came back slowly. Reshid waited, signing to her impatiently to come nearer. When near Reshid Taminah stood with downcast eyes. Reshid looked at her a while before he asked-- "Are you going to Almayer's house? They say in the settlement that Dain the trader, he that was found drowned this morning, is lying in the white man's campong." "I have heard this talk," whispered Taminah; "and this morning by the riverside I saw the body. Where it is now I do not know." "So you have seen it?" asked Reshid, eagerly. "Is it Dain? You have seen him many times. You would know him." The girl's lips quivered and she remained silent for a while, breathing quickly. "I have seen him, not a long time ago," she said at last. "The talk is true; he is dead. What do you want from me, Tuan? I must go." Just then the report of the gun fired on board the steam launch was heard, interrupting Reshid's reply. Leaving the girl he ran to the house, and met in the courtyard Abdulla coming towards the gate. "The Orang Blanda are come," said Reshid, "and now we shall have our reward." Abdulla shook his head doubtfully. "The white men's rewards are long in coming," he said. "White men are quick in anger and slow in gratitude. We shall see." He stood at the gate stroking his grey beard and listening to the distant cries of greeting at the other end of the settlement. As Taminah was turning to go he called her back. "Listen, girl," he said: "there will be many white men in Almayer's house. You shall be there selling your cakes to the men of the sea. What you see and what you hear you may tell me. Come here before the sun sets and I will give you a blue handkerchief with red spots. Now go, and forget not to return." He gave her a push with the end of his long staff as she was going away and made her stumble. "This slave is very slow," he remarked to his nephew, looking after the girl with great disfavour. Taminah walked on, her tray on the head, her eyes fixed on the ground. From the open doors of the houses were heard, as she passed, friendly calls inviting her within for business purposes, but she never heeded them, neglecting her sales in the preoccupation of intense thinking. Since the very early morning she had heard much, she had also seen much that filled her heart with a joy mingled with great suffering and fear. Before the dawn, before she left Bulangi's house to paddle up to Sambir she had heard voices outside the house when all in it but herself were asleep. And now, with her knowledge of the words spoken in the darkness, she held in her hand a life and carried in her breast a great sorrow. Yet from her springy step, erect figure, and face veiled over by the everyday look of apathetic indifference, nobody could have guessed of the double load she carried under the visible burden of the tray piled up high with cakes manufactured by the thrifty hands of Bulangi's wives. In that supple figure straight as an arrow, so graceful and free in its walk, behind those soft eyes that spoke of nothing but of unconscious resignation, there slept all feelings and all passions, all hopes and all fears, the curse of life and the consolation of death. And she knew nothing of it all. She lived like the tall palms amongst whom she was passing now, seeking the light, desiring the sunshine, fearing the storm, unconscious of either. The slave had no hope, and knew of no change. She knew of no other sky, no other water, no other forest, no other world, no other life. She had no wish, no hope, no love, no fear except of a blow, and no vivid feeling but that of occasional hunger, which was seldom, for Bulangi was rich and rice was plentiful in the solitary house in his clearing. The absence of pain and hunger was her happiness, and when she felt unhappy she was simply tired, more than usual, after the day's labour. Then in the hot nights of the south-west monsoon she slept dreamlessly under the bright stars on the platform built outside the house and over the river. Inside they slept too: Bulangi by the door; his wives further in; the children with their mothers. She could hear their breathing; Bulangi's sleepy voice; the sharp cry of a child soon hushed with tender words. And she closed her eyes to the murmur of the water below her, to the whisper of the warm wind above, ignorant of the never-ceasing life of that tropical nature that spoke to her in vain with the thousand faint voices of the near forest, with the breath of tepid wind; in the heavy scents that lingered around her head; in the white wraiths of morning mist that hung over her in the solemn hush of all creation before the dawn. Such had been her existence before the coming of the brig with the strangers. She remembered well that time; the uproar in the settlement, the never-ending wonder, the days and nights of talk and excitement. She remembered her own timidity with the strange men, till the brig moored to the bank became in a manner part of the settlement, and the fear wore off in the familiarity of constant intercourse. The call on board then became part of her daily round. She walked hesitatingly up the slanting planks of the gangway amidst the encouraging shouts and more or less decent jokes of the men idling over the bulwarks. There she sold her wares to those men that spoke so loud and carried themselves so free. There was a throng, a constant coming and going; calls interchanged, orders given and executed with shouts; the rattle of blocks, the flinging about of coils of rope. She sat out of the way under the shade of the awning, with her tray before her, the veil drawn well over her face, feeling shy amongst so many men. She smiled at all buyers, but spoke to none, letting their jests pass with stolid unconcern. She heard many tales told around her of far-off countries, of strange customs, of events stranger still. Those men were brave; but the most fearless of them spoke of their chief with fear. Often the man they called their master passed before her, walking erect and indifferent, in the pride of youth, in the flash of rich dress, with a tinkle of gold ornaments, while everybody stood aside watching anxiously for a movement of his lips, ready to do his bidding. Then all her life seemed to rush into her eyes, and from under her veil she gazed at him, charmed, yet fearful to attract attention. One day he noticed her and asked, "Who is that girl?" "A slave, Tuan! A girl that sells cakes," a dozen voices replied together. She rose in terror to run on shore, when he called her back; and as she stood trembling with head hung down before him, he spoke kind words, lifting her chin with his hand and looking into her eyes with a smile. "Do not be afraid," he said. He never spoke to her any more. Somebody called out from the river bank; he turned away and forgot her existence. Taminah saw Almayer standing on the shore with Nina on his arm. She heard Nina's voice calling out gaily, and saw Dain's face brighten with joy as he leaped on shore. She hated the sound of that voice ever since. After that day she left off visiting Almayer's compound, and passed the noon hours under the shade of the brig awning. She watched for his coming with heart beating quicker and quicker, as he approached, into a wild tumult of newly-aroused feelings of joy and hope and fear that died away with Dain's retreating figure, leaving her tired out, as if after a struggle, sitting still for a long time in dreamy languor. Then she paddled home slowly in the afternoon, often letting her canoe float with the lazy stream in the quiet backwater of the river. The paddle hung idle in the water as she sat in the stern, one hand supporting her chin, her eyes wide open, listening intently to the whispering of her heart that seemed to swell at last into a song of extreme sweetness. Listening to that song she husked the rice at home; it dulled her ears to the shrill bickerings of Bulangi's wives, to the sound of angry reproaches addressed to herself. And when the sun was near its setting she walked to the bathing-place and heard it as she stood on the tender grass of the low bank, her robe at her feet, and looked at the reflection of her figure on the glass-like surface of the creek. Listening to it she walked slowly back, her wet hair hanging over her shoulders; laying down to rest under the bright stars, she closed her eyes to the murmur of the water below, of the warm wind above; to the voice of nature speaking through the faint noises of the great forest, and to the song of her own heart. She heard, but did not understand, and drank in the dreamy joy of her new existence without troubling about its meaning or its end, till the full consciousness of life came to her through pain and anger. And she suffered horribly the first time she saw Nina's long canoe drift silently past the sleeping house of Bulangi, bearing the two lovers into the white mist of the great river. Her jealousy and rage culminated into a paroxysm of physical pain that left her lying panting on the river bank, in the dumb agony of a wounded animal. But she went on moving patiently in the enchanted circle of slavery, going through her task day after day with all the pathos of the grief she could not express, even to herself, locked within her breast. She shrank from Nina as she would have shrunk from the sharp blade of a knife cutting into her flesh, but she kept on visiting the brig to feed her dumb, ignorant soul on her own despair. She saw Dain many times. He never spoke, he never looked. Could his eyes see only one woman's image? Could his ears hear only one woman's voice? He never noticed her; not once. And then he went away. She saw him and Nina for the last time on that morning when Babalatchi, while visiting his fish baskets, had his suspicions of the white man's daughter's love affair with Dain confirmed beyond the shadow of doubt. Dain disappeared, and Taminah's heart, where lay useless and barren the seeds of all love and of all hate, the possibilities of all passions and of all sacrifices, forgot its joys and its sufferings when deprived of the help of the senses. Her half-formed, savage mind, the slave of her body--as her body was the slave of another's will--forgot the faint and vague image of the ideal that had found its beginning in the physical promptings of her savage nature. She dropped back into the torpor of her former life and found consolation--even a certain kind of happiness--in the thought that now Nina and Dain were separated, probably for ever. He would forget. This thought soothed the last pangs of dying jealousy that had nothing now to feed upon, and Taminah found peace. It was like the dreary tranquillity of a desert, where there is peace only because there is no life. And now he had returned. She had recognised his voice calling aloud in the night for Bulangi. She had crept out after her master to listen closer to the intoxicating sound. Dain was there, in a boat, talking to Bulangi. Taminah, listening with arrested breath, heard another voice. The maddening joy, that only a second before she thought herself incapable of containing within her fast-beating heart, died out, and left her shivering in the old anguish of physical pain that she had suffered once before at the sight of Dain and Nina. Nina spoke now, ordering and entreating in turns, and Bulangi was refusing, expostulating, at last consenting. He went in to take a paddle from the heap lying behind the door. Outside the murmur of two voices went on, and she caught a word here and there. She understood that he was fleeing from white men, that he was seeking a hiding-place, that he was in some danger. But she heard also words which woke the rage of jealousy that had been asleep for so many days in her bosom. Crouching low on the mud in the black darkness amongst the piles, she heard the whisper in the boat that made light of toil, of privation, of danger, of life itself, if in exchange there could be but a short moment of close embrace, a look from the eyes, the feel of light breath, the touch of soft lips. So spoke Dain as he sat in the canoe holding Nina's hands while waiting for Bulangi's return; and Taminah, supporting herself by the slimy pile, felt as if a heavy weight was crushing her down, down into the black oily water at her feet. She wanted to cry out; to rush at them and tear their vague shadows apart; to throw Nina into the smooth water, cling to her close, hold her to the bottom where that man could not find her. She could not cry, she could not move. Then footsteps were heard on the bamboo platform above her head; she saw Bulangi get into his smallest canoe and take the lead, the other boat following, paddled by Dain and Nina. With a slight splash of the paddles dipped stealthily into the water, their indistinct forms passed before her aching eyes and vanished in the darkness of the creek. She remained there in the cold and wet, powerless to move, breathing painfully under the crushing weight that the mysterious hand of Fate had laid so suddenly upon her slender shoulders, and shivering, she felt within a burning fire, that seemed to feed upon her very life. When the breaking day had spread a pale golden ribbon over the black outline of the forests, she took up her tray and departed towards the settlement, going about her task purely from the force of habit. As she approached Sambir she could see the excitement and she heard with momentary surprise of the finding of Dain's body. It was not true, of course. She knew it well. She regretted that he was not dead. She should have liked Dain to be dead, so as to be parted from that woman--from all women. She felt a strong desire to see Nina, but without any clear object. She hated her, and feared her and she felt an irresistible impulse pushing her towards Almayer's house to see the white woman's face, to look close at those eyes, to hear again that voice, for the sound of which Dain was ready to risk his liberty, his life even. She had seen her many times; she had heard her voice daily for many months past. What was there in her? What was there in that being to make a man speak as Dain had spoken, to make him blind to all other faces, deaf to all other voices? She left the crowd by the riverside, and wandered aimlessly among the empty houses, resisting the impulse that pushed her towards Almayer's campong to seek there in Nina's eyes the secret of her own misery. The sun mounting higher, shortened the shadows and poured down upon her a flood of light and of stifling heat as she passed on from shadow to light, from light to shadow, amongst the houses, the bushes, the tall trees, in her unconscious flight from the pain in her own heart. In the extremity of her distress she could find no words to pray for relief, she knew of no heaven to send her prayer to, and she wandered on with tired feet in the dumb surprise and terror at the injustice of the suffering inflicted upon her without cause and without redress. The short talk with Reshid, the proposal of Abdulla steadied her a little and turned her thoughts into another channel. Dain was in some danger. He was hiding from white men. So much she had overheard last night. They all thought him dead. She knew he was alive, and she knew of his hiding- place. What did the Arabs want to know about the white men? The white men want with Dain? Did they wish to kill him? She could tell them all--no, she would say nothing, and in the night she would go to him and sell him his life for a word, for a smile, for a gesture even, and be his slave in far-off countries, away from Nina. But there were dangers. The one-eyed Babalatchi who knew everything; the white man's wife--she was a witch. Perhaps they would tell. And then there was Nina. She must hurry on and see. In her impatience she left the path and ran towards Almayer's dwelling through the undergrowth between the palm trees. She came out at the back of the house, where a narrow ditch, full of stagnant water that overflowed from the river, separated Almayer's campong from the rest of the settlement. The thick bushes growing on the bank were hiding from her sight the large courtyard with its cooking shed. Above them rose several thin columns of smoke, and from behind the sound of strange voices informed Taminah that the Men of the Sea belonging to the warship had already landed and were camped between the ditch and the house. To the left one of Almayer's slave-girls came down to the ditch and bent over the shiny water, washing a kettle. To the right the tops of the banana plantation, visible above the bushes, swayed and shook under the touch of invisible hands gathering the fruit. On the calm water several canoes moored to a heavy stake were crowded together, nearly bridging the ditch just at the place where Taminah stood. The voices in the courtyard rose at times into an outburst of calls, replies, and laughter, and then died away into a silence that soon was broken again by a fresh clamour. Now and again the thin blue smoke rushed out thicker and blacker, and drove in odorous masses over the creek, wrapping her for a moment in a suffocating veil; then, as the fresh wood caught well alight, the smoke vanished in the bright sunlight, and only the scent of aromatic wood drifted afar, to leeward of the crackling fires. Taminah rested her tray on a stump of a tree, and remained standing with her eyes turned towards Almayer's house, whose roof and part of a whitewashed wall were visible over the bushes. The slave-girl finished her work, and after looking for a while curiously at Taminah, pushed her way through the dense thicket back to the courtyard. Round Taminah there was now a complete solitude. She threw herself down on the ground, and hid her face in her hands. Now when so close she had no courage to see Nina. At every burst of louder voices from the courtyard she shivered in the fear of hearing Nina's voice. She came to the resolution of waiting where she was till dark, and then going straight to Dain's hiding-place. From where she was she could watch the movements of white men, of Nina, of all Dain's friends, and of all his enemies. Both were hateful alike to her, for both would take him away beyond her reach. She hid herself in the long grass to wait anxiously for the sunset that seemed so slow to come. On the other side of the ditch, behind the bush, by the clear fires, the seamen of the frigate had encamped on the hospitable invitation of Almayer. Almayer, roused out of his apathy by the prayers and importunity of Nina, had managed to get down in time to the jetty so as to receive the officers at their landing. The lieutenant in command accepted his invitation to his house with the remark that in any case their business was with Almayer--and perhaps not very pleasant, he added. Almayer hardly heard him. He shook hands with them absently and led the way towards the house. He was scarcely conscious of the polite words of welcome he greeted the strangers with, and afterwards repeated several times over again in his efforts to appear at ease. The agitation of their host did not escape the officer's eyes, and the chief confided to his subordinate, in a low voice, his doubts as to Almayer's sobriety. The young sub-lieutenant laughed and expressed in a whisper the hope that the white man was not intoxicated enough to neglect the offer of some refreshments. "He does not seem very dangerous," he added, as they followed Almayer up the steps of the verandah. "No, he seems more of a fool than a knave; I have heard of him," returned the senior. They sat around the table. Almayer with shaking hands made gin cocktails, offered them all round, and drank himself, with every gulp feeling stronger, steadier, and better able to face all the difficulties of his position. Ignorant of the fate of the brig he did not suspect the real object of the officer's visit. He had a general notion that something must have leaked out about the gunpowder trade, but apprehended nothing beyond some temporary inconveniences. After emptying his glass he began to chat easily, lying back in his chair with one of his legs thrown negligently over the arm. The lieutenant astride on his chair, a glowing cheroot in the corner of his mouth, listened with a sly smile from behind the thick volumes of smoke that escaped from his compressed lips. The young sub-lieutenant, leaning with both elbows on the table, his head between his hands, looked on sleepily in the torpor induced by fatigue and the gin. Almayer talked on-- "It is a great pleasure to see white faces here. I have lived here many years in great solitude. The Malays, you understand, are not company for a white man; moreover they are not friendly; they do not understand our ways. Great rascals they are. I believe I am the only white man on the east coast that is a settled resident. We get visitors from Macassar or Singapore sometimes--traders, agents, or explorers, but they are rare. There was a scientific explorer here a year or more ago. He lived in my house: drank from morning to night. He lived joyously for a few months, and when the liquor he brought with him was gone he returned to Batavia with a report on the mineral wealth of the interior. Ha, ha, ha! Good, is it not?" He ceased abruptly and looked at his guests with a meaningless stare. While they laughed he was reciting to himself the old story: "Dain dead, all my plans destroyed. This is the end of all hope and of all things." His heart sank within him. He felt a kind of deadly sickness. "Very good. Capital!" exclaimed both officers. Almayer came out of his despondency with another burst of talk. "Eh! what about the dinner? You have got a cook with you. That's all right. There is a cooking shed in the other courtyard. I can give you a goose. Look at my geese--the only geese on the east coast--perhaps on the whole island. Is that your cook? Very good. Here, Ali, show this Chinaman the cooking place and tell Mem Almayer to let him have room there. My wife, gentlemen, does not come out; my daughter may. Meantime have some more drink. It is a hot day." The lieutenant took the cigar out of his mouth, looked at the ash critically, shook it off and turned towards Almayer. "We have a rather unpleasant business with you," he said. "I am sorry," returned Almayer. "It can be nothing very serious, surely." "If you think an attempt to blow up forty men at least, not a serious matter you will not find many people of your opinion," retorted the officer sharply. "Blow up! What? I know nothing about it," exclaimed Almayer. "Who did that, or tried to do it?" "A man with whom you had some dealings," answered the lieutenant. "He passed here under the name of Dain Maroola. You sold him the gunpowder he had in that brig we captured." "How did you hear about the brig?" asked Almayer. "I know nothing about the powder he may have had." "An Arab trader of this place has sent the information about your goings on here to Batavia, a couple of months ago," said the officer. "We were waiting for the brig outside, but he slipped past us at the mouth of the river, and we had to chase the fellow to the southward. When he sighted us he ran inside the reefs and put the brig ashore. The crew escaped in boats before we could take possession. As our boats neared the craft it blew up with a tremendous explosion; one of the boats being too near got swamped. Two men drowned--that is the result of your speculation, Mr. Almayer. Now we want this Dain. We have good grounds to suppose he is hiding in Sambir. Do you know where he is? You had better put yourself right with the authorities as much as possible by being perfectly frank with me. Where is this Dain?" Almayer got up and walked towards the balustrade of the verandah. He seemed not to be thinking of the officer's question. He looked at the body laying straight and rigid under its white cover on which the sun, declining amongst the clouds to the westward, threw a pale tinge of red. The lieutenant waited for the answer, taking quick pulls at his half-extinguished cigar. Behind them Ali moved noiselessly laying the table, ranging solemnly the ill-assorted and shabby crockery, the tin spoons, the forks with broken prongs, and the knives with saw-like blades and loose handles. He had almost forgotten how to prepare the table for white men. He felt aggrieved; Mem Nina would not help him. He stepped back to look at his work admiringly, feeling very proud. This must be right; and if the master afterwards is angry and swears, then so much the worse for Mem Nina. Why did she not help? He left the verandah to fetch the dinner. "Well, Mr. Almayer, will you answer my question as frankly as it is put to you?" asked the lieutenant, after a long silence. Almayer turned round and looked at his interlocutor steadily. "If you catch this Dain what will you do with him?" he asked. The officer's face flushed. "This is not an answer," he said, annoyed. "And what will you do with me?" went on Almayer, not heeding the interruption. "Are you inclined to bargain?" growled the other. "It would be bad policy, I assure you. At present I have no orders about your person, but we expected your assistance in catching this Malay." "Ah!" interrupted Almayer, "just so: you can do nothing without me, and I, knowing the man well, am to help you in finding him." "This is exactly what we expect," assented the officer. "You have broken the law, Mr. Almayer, and you ought to make amends." "And save myself?" "Well, in a sense yes. Your head is not in any danger," said the lieutenant, with a short laugh. "Very well," said Almayer, with decision, "I shall deliver the man up to you." Both officers rose to their feet quickly, and looked for their side-arms which they had unbuckled. Almayer laughed harshly. "Steady, gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "In my own time and in my own way. After dinner, gentlemen, you shall have him." "This is preposterous," urged the lieutenant. "Mr. Almayer, this is no joking matter. The man is a criminal. He deserves to hang. While we dine he may escape; the rumour of our arrival--" Almayer walked towards the table. "I give you my word of honour, gentlemen, that he shall not escape; I have him safe enough." "The arrest should be effected before dark," remarked the young sub. "I shall hold you responsible for any failure. We are ready, but can do nothing just now without you," added the senior, with evident annoyance. Almayer made a gesture of assent. "On my word of honour," he repeated vaguely. "And now let us dine," he added briskly. Nina came through the doorway and stood for a moment holding the curtain aside for Ali and the old Malay woman bearing the dishes; then she moved towards the three men by the table. "Allow me," said Almayer, pompously. "This is my daughter. Nina, these gentlemen, officers of the frigate outside, have done me the honour to accept my hospitality." Nina answered the low bows of the two officers by a slow inclination of the head and took her place at the table opposite her father. All sat down. The coxswain of the steam launch came up carrying some bottles of wine. "You will allow me to have this put upon the table?" said the lieutenant to Almayer. "What! Wine! You are very kind. Certainly, I have none myself. Times are very hard." The last words of his reply were spoken by Almayer in a faltering voice. The thought that Dain was dead recurred to him vividly again, and he felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his throat. He reached for the gin bottle while they were uncorking the wine and swallowed a big gulp. The lieutenant, who was speaking to Nina, gave him a quick glance. The young sub began to recover from the astonishment and confusion caused by Nina's unexpected appearance and great beauty. "She was very beautiful and imposing," he reflected, "but after all a half-caste girl." This thought caused him to pluck up heart and look at Nina sideways. Nina, with composed face, was answering in a low, even voice the elder officer's polite questions as to the country and her mode of life. Almayer pushed his plate away and drank his guest's wine in gloomy silence. CHAPTER IX. "Can I believe what you tell me? It is like a tale for men that listen only half awake by the camp fire, and it seems to have run off a woman's tongue." "Who is there here for me to deceive, O Rajah?" answered Babalatchi. "Without you I am nothing. All I have told you I believe to be true. I have been safe for many years in the hollow of your hand. This is no time to harbour suspicions. The danger is very great. We should advise and act at once, before the sun sets." "Right. Right," muttered Lakamba, pensively. They had been sitting for the last hour together in the audience chamber of the Rajah's house, for Babalatchi, as soon as he had witnessed the landing of the Dutch officers, had crossed the river to report to his master the events of the morning, and to confer with him upon the line of conduct to pursue in the face of altered circumstances. They were both puzzled and frightened by the unexpected turn the events had taken. The Rajah, sitting crosslegged on his chair, looked fixedly at the floor; Babalatchi was squatting close by in an attitude of deep dejection. "And where did you say he is hiding now?" asked Lakamba, breaking at last the silence full of gloomy forebodings in which they both had been lost for a long while. "In Bulangi's clearing--the furthest one, away from the house. They went there that very night. The white man's daughter took him there. She told me so herself, speaking to me openly, for she is half white and has no decency. She said she was waiting for him while he was here; then, after a long time, he came out of the darkness and fell at her feet exhausted. He lay like one dead, but she brought him back to life in her arms, and made him breathe again with her own breath. That is what she said, speaking to my face, as I am speaking now to you, Rajah. She is like a white woman and knows no shame." He paused, deeply shocked. Lakamba nodded his head. "Well, and then?" he asked. "They called the old woman," went on Babalatchi, "and he told them all--about the brig, and how he tried to kill many men. He knew the Orang Blanda were very near, although he had said nothing to us about that; he knew his great danger. He thought he had killed many, but there were only two dead, as I have heard from the men of the sea that came in the warship's boats." "And the other man, he that was found in the river?" interrupted Lakamba. "That was one of his boatmen. When his canoe was overturned by the logs those two swam together, but the other man must have been hurt. Dain swam, holding him up. He left him in the bushes when he went up to the house. When they all came down his heart had ceased to beat; then the old woman spoke; Dain thought it was good. He took off his anklet and broke it, twisting it round the man's foot. His ring he put on that slave's hand. He took off his sarong and clothed that thing that wanted no clothes, the two women holding it up meanwhile, their intent being to deceive all eyes and to mislead the minds in the settlement, so that they could swear to the thing that was not, and that there could be no treachery when the white-men came. Then Dain and the white woman departed to call up Bulangi and find a hiding-place. The old woman remained by the body." "Hai!" exclaimed Lakamba. "She has wisdom." "Yes, she has a Devil of her own to whisper counsel in her ear," assented Babalatchi. "She dragged the body with great toil to the point where many logs were stranded. All these things were done in the darkness after the storm had passed away. Then she waited. At the first sign of daylight she battered the face of the dead with a heavy stone, and she pushed him amongst the logs. She remained near, watching. At sunrise Mahmat Banjer came and found him. They all believed; I myself was deceived, but not for long. The white man believed, and, grieving, fled to his house. When we were alone I, having doubts, spoke to the woman, and she, fearing my anger and your might, told me all, asking for help in saving Dain." "He must not fall into the hands of the Orang Blanda," said Lakamba; "but let him die, if the thing can be done quietly." "It cannot, Tuan! Remember there is that woman who, being half white, is ungovernable, and would raise a great outcry. Also the officers are here. They are angry enough already. Dain must escape; he must go. We must help him now for our own safety." "Are the officers very angry?" inquired Lakamba, with interest. "They are. The principal chief used strong words when speaking to me--to me when I salaamed in your name. I do not think," added Babalatchi, after a short pause and looking very worried--"I do not think I saw a white chief so angry before. He said we were careless or even worse. He told me he would speak to the Rajah, and that I was of no account." "Speak to the Rajah!" repeated Lakamba, thoughtfully. "Listen, Babalatchi: I am sick, and shall withdraw; you cross over and tell the white men." "Yes," said Babalatchi, "I am going over at once; and as to Dain?" "You get him away as you can best. This is a great trouble in my heart," sighed Lakamba. Babalatchi got up, and, going close to his master, spoke earnestly. "There is one of our praus at the southern mouth of the river. The Dutch warship is to the northward watching the main entrance. I shall send Dain off to-night in a canoe, by the hidden channels, on board the prau. His father is a great prince, and shall hear of our generosity. Let the prau take him to Ampanam. Your glory shall be great, and your reward in powerful friendship. Almayer will no doubt deliver the dead body as Dain's to the officers, and the foolish white men shall say, 'This is very good; let there be peace.' And the trouble shall be removed from your heart, Rajah." "True! true!" said Lakamba. "And, this being accomplished by me who am your slave, you shall reward with a generous hand. That I know! The white man is grieving for the lost treasure, in the manner of white men who thirst after dollars. Now, when all other things are in order, we shall perhaps obtain the treasure from the white man. Dain must escape, and Almayer must live." "Now go, Babalatchi, go!" said Lakamba, getting off his chair. "I am very sick, and want medicine. Tell the white chief so." But Babalatchi was not to be got rid of in this summary manner. He knew that his master, after the manner of the great, liked to shift the burden of toil and danger on to his servants' shoulders, but in the difficult straits in which they were now the Rajah must play his part. He may be very sick for the white men, for all the world if he liked, as long as he would take upon himself the execution of part at least of Babalatchi's carefully thought-of plan. Babalatchi wanted a big canoe manned by twelve men to be sent out after dark towards Bulangi's clearing. Dain may have to be overpowered. A man in love cannot be expected to see clearly the path of safety if it leads him away from the object of his affections, argued Babalatchi, and in that case they would have to use force in order to make him go. Would the Rajah see that trusty men manned the canoe? The thing must be done secretly. Perhaps the Rajah would come himself, so as to bring all the weight of his authority to bear upon Dain if he should prove obstinate and refuse to leave his hiding-place. The Rajah would not commit himself to a definite promise, and anxiously pressed Babalatchi to go, being afraid of the white men paying him an unexpected visit. The aged statesman reluctantly took his leave and went into the courtyard. Before going down to his boat Babalatchi stopped for a while in the big open space where the thick-leaved trees put black patches of shadow which seemed to float on a flood of smooth, intense light that rolled up to the houses and down to the stockade and over the river, where it broke and sparkled in thousands of glittering wavelets, like a band woven of azure and gold edged with the brilliant green of the forests guarding both banks of the Pantai. In the perfect calm before the coming of the afternoon breeze the irregularly jagged line of tree-tops stood unchanging, as if traced by an unsteady hand on the clear blue of the hot sky. In the space sheltered by the high palisades there lingered the smell of decaying blossoms from the surrounding forest, a taint of drying fish; with now and then a whiff of acrid smoke from the cooking fires when it eddied down from under the leafy boughs and clung lazily about the burnt-up grass. As Babalatchi looked up at the flagstaff over-topping a group of low trees in the middle of the courtyard, the tricolour flag of the Netherlands stirred slightly for the first time since it had been hoisted that morning on the arrival of the man-of-war boats. With a faint rustle of trees the breeze came down in light puffs, playing capriciously for a time with this emblem of Lakamba's power, that was also the mark of his servitude; then the breeze freshened in a sharp gust of wind, and the flag flew out straight and steady above the trees. A dark shadow ran along the river, rolling over and covering up the sparkle of declining sunlight. A big white cloud sailed slowly across the darkening sky, and hung to the westward as if waiting for the sun to join it there. Men and things shook off the torpor of the hot afternoon and stirred into life under the first breath of the sea breeze. Babalatchi hurried down to the water-gate; yet before he passed through it he paused to look round the courtyard, with its light and shade, with its cheery fires, with the groups of Lakamba's soldiers and retainers scattered about. His own house stood amongst the other buildings in that enclosure, and the statesman of Sambir asked himself with a sinking heart when and how would it be given him to return to that house. He had to deal with a man more dangerous than any wild beast of his experience: a proud man, a man wilful after the manner of princes, a man in love. And he was going forth to speak to that man words of cold and worldly wisdom. Could anything be more appalling? What if that man should take umbrage at some fancied slight to his honour or disregard of his affections and suddenly "amok"? The wise adviser would be the first victim, no doubt, and death would be his reward. And underlying the horror of this situation there was the danger of those meddlesome fools, the white men. A vision of comfortless exile in far-off Madura rose up before Babalatchi. Wouldn't that be worse than death itself? And there was that half-white woman with threatening eyes. How could he tell what an incomprehensible creature of that sort would or would not do? She knew so much that she made the killing of Dain an impossibility. That much was certain. And yet the sharp, rough-edged kriss is a good and discreet friend, thought Babalatchi, as he examined his own lovingly, and put it back in the sheath, with a sigh of regret, before unfastening his canoe. As he cast off the painter, pushed out into the stream, and took up his paddle, he realised vividly how unsatisfactory it was to have women mixed up in state affairs. Young women, of course. For Mrs. Almayer's mature wisdom, and for the easy aptitude in intrigue that comes with years to the feminine mind, he felt the most sincere respect. He paddled leisurely, letting the canoe drift down as he crossed towards the point. The sun was high yet, and nothing pressed. His work would commence only with the coming of darkness. Avoiding the Lingard jetty, he rounded the point, and paddled up the creek at the back of Almayer's house. There were many canoes lying there, their noses all drawn together, fastened all to the same stake. Babalatchi pushed his little craft in amongst them and stepped on shore. On the other side of the ditch something moved in the grass. "Who's that hiding?" hailed Babalatchi. "Come out and speak to me." Nobody answered. Babalatchi crossed over, passing from boat to boat, and poked his staff viciously in the suspicious place. Taminah jumped up with a cry. "What are you doing here?" he asked, surprised. "I have nearly stepped on your tray. Am I a Dyak that you should hide at my sight?" "I was weary, and--I slept," whispered Taminah, confusedly. "You slept! You have not sold anything to-day, and you will be beaten when you return home," said Babalatchi. Taminah stood before him abashed and silent. Babalatchi looked her over carefully with great satisfaction. Decidedly he would offer fifty dollars more to that thief Bulangi. The girl pleased him. "Now you go home. It is late," he said sharply. "Tell Bulangi that I shall be near his house before the night is half over, and that I want him to make all things ready for a long journey. You understand? A long journey to the southward. Tell him that before sunset, and do not forget my words." Taminah made a gesture of assent, and watched Babalatchi recross the ditch and disappear through the bushes bordering Almayer's compound. She moved a little further off the creek and sank in the grass again, lying down on her face, shivering in dry-eyed misery. Babalatchi walked straight towards the cooking-shed looking for Mrs. Almayer. The courtyard was in a great uproar. A strange Chinaman had possession of the kitchen fire and was noisily demanding another saucepan. He hurled objurgations, in the Canton dialect and bad Malay, against the group of slave-girls standing a little way off, half frightened, half amused, at his violence. From the camping fires round which the seamen of the frigate were sitting came words of encouragement, mingled with laughter and jeering. In the midst of this noise and confusion Babalatchi met Ali, an empty dish in his hand. "Where are the white men?" asked Babalatchi. "They are eating in the front verandah," answered Ali. "Do not stop me, Tuan. I am giving the white men their food and am busy." "Where's Mem Almayer?" "Inside in the passage. She is listening to the talk." Ali grinned and passed on; Babalatchi ascended the plankway to the rear verandah, and beckoning out Mrs. Almayer, engaged her in earnest conversation. Through the long passage, closed at the further end by the red curtain, they could hear from time to time Almayer's voice mingling in conversation with an abrupt loudness that made Mrs. Almayer look significantly at Babalatchi. "Listen," she said. "He has drunk much." "He has," whispered Babalatchi. "He will sleep heavily to-night." Mrs. Almayer looked doubtful. "Sometimes the devil of strong gin makes him keep awake, and he walks up and down the verandah all night, cursing; then we stand afar off," explained Mrs. Almayer, with the fuller knowledge born of twenty odd years of married life. "But then he does not hear, nor understand, and his hand, of course, has no strength. We do not want him to hear to-night." "No," assented Mrs. Almayer, energetically, but in a cautiously subdued voice. "If he hears he will kill." Babalatchi looked incredulous. "Hai Tuan, you may believe me. Have I not lived many years with that man? Have I not seen death in that man's eyes more than once when I was younger and he guessed at many things. Had he been a man of my own people I would not have seen such a look twice; but he--" With a contemptuous gesture she seemed to fling unutterable scorn on Almayer's weak-minded aversion to sudden bloodshed. "If he has the wish but not the strength, then what do we fear?" asked Babalatchi, after a short silence during which they both listened to Almayer's loud talk till it subsided into the murmur of general conversation. "What do we fear?" repeated Babalatchi again. "To keep the daughter whom he loves he would strike into your heart and mine without hesitation," said Mrs. Almayer. "When the girl is gone he will be like the devil unchained. Then you and I had better beware." "I am an old man and fear not death," answered Babalatchi, with a mendacious assumption of indifference. "But what will you do?" "I am an old woman, and wish to live," retorted Mrs. Almayer. "She is my daughter also. I shall seek safety at the feet of our Rajah, speaking in the name of the past when we both were young, and he--" Babalatchi raised his hand. "Enough. You shall be protected," he said soothingly. Again the sound of Almayer's voice was heard, and again interrupting their talk, they listened to the confused but loud utterance coming in bursts of unequal strength, with unexpected pauses and noisy repetitions that made some words and sentences fall clear and distinct on their ears out of the meaningless jumble of excited shoutings emphasised by the thumping of Almayer's fist upon the table. On the short intervals of silence, the high complaining note of tumblers, standing close together and vibrating to the shock, lingered, growing fainter, till it leapt up again into tumultuous ringing, when a new idea started a new rush of words and brought down the heavy hand again. At last the quarrelsome shouting ceased, and the thin plaint of disturbed glass died away into reluctant quietude. Babalatchi and Mrs. Almayer had listened curiously, their bodies bent and their ears turned towards the passage. At every louder shout they nodded at each other with a ridiculous affectation of scandalised propriety, and they remained in the same attitude for some time after the noise had ceased. "This is the devil of gin," whispered Mrs. Almayer. "Yes; he talks like that sometimes when there is nobody to hear him." "What does he say?" inquired Babalatchi, eagerly. "You ought to understand." "I have forgotten their talk. A little I understood. He spoke without any respect of the white ruler in Batavia, and of protection, and said he had been wronged; he said that several times. More I did not understand. Listen! Again he speaks!" "Tse! tse! tse!" clicked Babalatchi, trying to appear shocked, but with a joyous twinkle of his solitary eye. "There will be great trouble between those white men. I will go round now and see. You tell your daughter that there is a sudden and a long journey before her, with much glory and splendour at the end. And tell her that Dain must go, or he must die, and that he will not go alone." "No, he will not go alone," slowly repeated Mrs. Almayer, with a thoughtful air, as she crept into the passage after seeing Babalatchi disappear round the corner of the house. The statesman of Sambir, under the impulse of vivid curiosity, made his way quickly to the front of the house, but once there he moved slowly and cautiously as he crept step by step up the stairs of the verandah. On the highest step he sat down quietly, his feet on the steps below, ready for flight should his presence prove unwelcome. He felt pretty safe so. The table stood nearly endways to him, and he saw Almayer's back; at Nina he looked full face, and had a side view of both officers; but of the four persons sitting at the table only Nina and the younger officer noticed his noiseless arrival. The momentary dropping of Nina's eyelids acknowledged Babalatchi's presence; she then spoke at once to the young sub, who turned towards her with attentive alacrity, but her gaze was fastened steadily on her father's face while Almayer was speaking uproariously. " . . . disloyalty and unscrupulousness! What have you ever done to make me loyal? You have no grip on this country. I had to take care of myself, and when I asked for protection I was met with threats and contempt, and had Arab slander thrown in my face. I! a white man!" "Don't be violent, Almayer," remonstrated the lieutenant; "I have heard all this already." "Then why do you talk to me about scruples? I wanted money, and I gave powder in exchange. How could I know that some of your wretched men were going to be blown up? Scruples! Pah!" He groped unsteadily amongst the bottles, trying one after another, grumbling to himself the while. "No more wine," he muttered discontentedly. "You have had enough, Almayer," said the lieutenant, as he lighted a cigar. "Is it not time to deliver to us your prisoner? I take it you have that Dain Maroola stowed away safely somewhere. Still we had better get that business over, and then we shall have more drink. Come! don't look at me like this." Almayer was staring with stony eyes, his trembling fingers fumbling about his throat. "Gold," he said with difficulty. "Hem! A hand on the windpipe, you know. Sure you will excuse. I wanted to say--a little gold for a little powder. What's that?" "I know, I know," said the lieutenant soothingly. "No! You don't know. Not one of you knows!" shouted Almayer. "The government is a fool, I tell you. Heaps of gold. I am the man that knows; I and another one. But he won't speak. He is--" He checked himself with a feeble smile, and, making an unsuccessful attempt to pat the officer on the shoulder, knocked over a couple of empty bottles. "Personally you are a fine fellow," he said very distinctly, in a patronising manner. His head nodded drowsily as he sat muttering to himself. The two officers looked at each other helplessly. "This won't do," said the lieutenant, addressing his junior. "Have the men mustered in the compound here. I must get some sense out of him. Hi! Almayer! Wake up, man. Redeem your word. You gave your word. You gave your word of honour, you know." Almayer shook off the officer's hand with impatience, but his ill-humour vanished at once, and he looked up, putting his forefinger to the side of his nose. "You are very young; there is time for all things," he said, with an air of great sagacity. The lieutenant turned towards Nina, who, leaning back in her chair, watched her father steadily. "Really I am very much distressed by all this for your sake," he exclaimed. "I do not know;" he went on, speaking with some embarrassment, "whether I have any right to ask you anything, unless, perhaps, to withdraw from this painful scene, but I feel that I must--for your father's good--suggest that you should--I mean if you have any influence over him you ought to exert it now to make him keep the promise he gave me before he--before he got into this state." He observed with discouragement that she seemed not to take any notice of what he said sitting still with half-closed eyes. "I trust--" he began again. "What is the promise you speak of?" abruptly asked Nina, leaving her seat and moving towards her father. "Nothing that is not just and proper. He promised to deliver to us a man who in time of profound peace took the lives of innocent men to escape the punishment he deserved for breaking the law. He planned his mischief on a large scale. It is not his fault if it failed, partially. Of course you have heard of Dain Maroola. Your father secured him, I understand. We know he escaped up this river. Perhaps you--" "And he killed white men!" interrupted Nina. "I regret to say they were white. Yes, two white men lost their lives through that scoundrel's freak." "Two only!" exclaimed Nina. The officer looked at her in amazement. "Why! why! You--" he stammered, confused. "There might have been more," interrupted Nina. "And when you get this--this scoundrel will you go?" The lieutenant, still speechless, bowed his assent. "Then I would get him for you if I had to seek him in a burning fire," she burst out with intense energy. "I hate the sight of your white faces. I hate the sound of your gentle voices. That is the way you speak to women, dropping sweet words before any pretty face. I have heard your voices before. I hoped to live here without seeing any other white face but this," she added in a gentler tone, touching lightly her father's cheek. Almayer ceased his mumbling and opened his eyes. He caught hold of his daughter's hand and pressed it to his face, while Nina with the other hand smoothed his rumpled grey hair, looking defiantly over her father's head at the officer, who had now regained his composure and returned her look with a cool, steady stare. Below, in front of the verandah, they could hear the tramp of seamen mustering there according to orders. The sub-lieutenant came up the steps, while Babalatchi stood up uneasily and, with finger on lip, tried to catch Nina's eye. "You are a good girl," whispered Almayer, absently, dropping his daughter's hand. "Father! father!" she cried, bending over him with passionate entreaty. "See those two men looking at us. Send them away. I cannot bear it any more. Send them away. Do what they want and let them go." She caught sight of Babalatchi and ceased speaking suddenly, but her foot tapped the floor with rapid beats in a paroxysm of nervous restlessness. The two officers stood close together looking on curiously. "What has happened? What is the matter?" whispered the younger man. "Don't know," answered the other, under his breath. "One is furious, and the other is drunk. Not so drunk, either. Queer, this. Look!" Almayer had risen, holding on to his daughter's arm. He hesitated a moment, then he let go his hold and lurched half-way across the verandah. There he pulled himself together, and stood very straight, breathing hard and glaring round angrily. "Are the men ready?" asked the lieutenant. "All ready, sir." "Now, Mr. Almayer, lead the way," said the lieutenant Almayer rested his eyes on him as if he saw him for the first time. "Two men," he said thickly. The effort of speaking seemed to interfere with his equilibrium. He took a quick step to save himself from a fall, and remained swaying backwards and forwards. "Two men," he began again, speaking with difficulty. "Two white men--men in uniform--honourable men. I want to say--men of honour. Are you?" "Come! None of that," said the officer impatiently. "Let us have that friend of yours." "What do you think I am?" asked Almayer, fiercely. "You are drunk, but not so drunk as not to know what you are doing. Enough of this tomfoolery," said the officer sternly, "or I will have you put under arrest in your own house." "Arrest!" laughed Almayer, discordantly. "Ha! ha! ha! Arrest! Why, I have been trying to get out of this infernal place for twenty years, and I can't. You hear, man! I can't, and never shall! Never!" He ended his words with a sob, and walked unsteadily down the stairs. When in the courtyard the lieutenant approached him, and took him by the arm. The sub-lieutenant and Babalatchi followed close. "That's better, Almayer," said the officer encouragingly. "Where are you going to? There are only planks there. Here," he went on, shaking him slightly, "do we want the boats?" "No," answered Almayer, viciously. "You want a grave." "What? Wild again! Try to talk sense." "Grave!" roared Almayer, struggling to get himself free. "A hole in the ground. Don't you understand? You must be drunk. Let me go! Let go, I tell you!" He tore away from the officer's grasp, and reeled towards the planks where the body lay under its white cover; then he turned round quickly, and faced the semicircle of interested faces. The sun was sinking rapidly, throwing long shadows of house and trees over the courtyard, but the light lingered yet on the river, where the logs went drifting past in midstream, looking very distinct and black in the pale red glow. The trunks of the trees in the forest on the east bank were lost in gloom while their highest branches swayed gently in the departing sunlight. The air felt heavy and cold in the breeze, expiring in slight puffs that came over the water. Almayer shivered as he made an effort to speak, and again with an uncertain gesture he seemed to free his throat from the grip of an invisible hand. His bloodshot eyes wandered aimlessly from face to face. "There!" he said at last. "Are you all there? He is a dangerous man." He dragged at the cover with hasty violence, and the body rolled stiffly off the planks and fell at his feet in rigid helplessness. "Cold, perfectly cold," said Almayer, looking round with a mirthless smile. "Sorry can do no better. And you can't hang him, either. As you observe, gentlemen," he added gravely, "there is no head, and hardly any neck." The last ray of light was snatched away from the tree-tops, the river grew suddenly dark, and in the great stillness the murmur of the flowing water seemed to fill the vast expanse of grey shadow that descended upon the land. "This is Dain," went on Almayer to the silent group that surrounded him. "And I have kept my word. First one hope, then another, and this is my last. Nothing is left now. You think there is one dead man here? Mistake, I 'sure you. I am much more dead. Why don't you hang me?" he suggested suddenly, in a friendly tone, addressing the lieutenant. "I assure, assure you it would be a mat--matter of form altog--altogether." These last words he muttered to himself, and walked zigzaging towards his house. "Get out!" he thundered at Ali, who was approaching timidly with offers of assistance. From afar, scared groups of men and women watched his devious progress. He dragged himself up the stairs by the banister, and managed to reach a chair into which he fell heavily. He sat for awhile panting with exertion and anger, and looking round vaguely for Nina; then making a threatening gesture towards the compound, where he had heard Babalatchi's voice, he overturned the table with his foot in a great crash of smashed crockery. He muttered yet menacingly to himself, then his head fell on his breast, his eyes closed, and with a deep sigh he fell asleep. That night--for the first time in its history--the peaceful and flourishing settlement of Sambir saw the lights shining about "Almayer's Folly." These were the lanterns of the boats hung up by the seamen under the verandah where the two officers were holding a court of inquiry into the truth of the story related to them by Babalatchi. Babalatchi had regained all his importance. He was eloquent and persuasive, calling Heaven and Earth to witness the truth of his statements. There were also other witnesses. Mahmat Banjer and a good many others underwent a close examination that dragged its weary length far into the evening. A messenger was sent for Abdulla, who excused himself from coming on the score of his venerable age, but sent Reshid. Mahmat had to produce the bangle, and saw with rage and mortification the lieutenant put it in his pocket, as one of the proofs of Dain's death, to be sent in with the official report of the mission. Babalatchi's ring was also impounded for the same purpose, but the experienced statesman was resigned to that loss from the very beginning. He did not mind as long as he was sure, that the white men believed. He put that question to himself earnestly as he left, one of the last, when the proceedings came to a close. He was not certain. Still, if they believed only for a night, he would put Dain beyond their reach and feel safe himself. He walked away fast, looking from time to time over his shoulder in the fear of being followed, but he saw and heard nothing. "Ten o'clock," said the lieutenant, looking at his watch and yawning. "I shall hear some of the captain's complimentary remarks when we get back. Miserable business, this." "Do you think all this is true?" asked the younger man. "True! It is just possible. But if it isn't true what can we do? If we had a dozen boats we could patrol the creeks; and that wouldn't be much good. That drunken madman was right; we haven't enough hold on this coast. They do what they like. Are our hammocks slung?" "Yes, I told the coxswain. Strange couple over there," said the sub, with a wave of his hand towards Almayer's house. "Hem! Queer, certainly. What have you been telling her? I was attending to the father most of the time." "I assure you I have been perfectly civil," protested the other warmly. "All right. Don't get excited. She objects to civility, then, from what I understand. I thought you might have been tender. You know we are on service." "Well, of course. Never forget that. Coldly civil. That's all." They both laughed a little, and not feeling sleepy began to pace the verandah side by side. The moon rose stealthily above the trees, and suddenly changed the river into a stream of scintillating silver. The forest came out of the black void and stood sombre and pensive over the sparkling water. The breeze died away into a breathless calm. Seamanlike, the two officers tramped measuredly up and down without exchanging a word. The loose planks rattled rhythmically under their steps with obstrusive dry sound in the perfect silence of the night. As they were wheeling round again the younger man stood attentive. "Did you hear that?" he asked. "No!" said the other. "Hear what?" "I thought I heard a cry. Ever so faint. Seemed a woman's voice. In that other house. Ah! Again! Hear it?" "No," said the lieutenant, after listening awhile. "You young fellows always hear women's voices. If you are going to dream you had better get into your hammock. Good-night." The moon mounted higher, and the warm shadows grew smaller and crept away as if hiding before the cold and cruel light. CHAPTER X. "It has set at last," said Nina to her mother pointing towards the hills behind which the sun had sunk. "Listen, mother, I am going now to Bulangi's creek, and if I should never return--" She interrupted herself, and something like doubt dimmed for a moment the fire of suppressed exaltation that had glowed in her eyes and had illuminated the serene impassiveness of her features with a ray of eager life during all that long day of excitement--the day of joy and anxiety, of hope and terror, of vague grief and indistinct delight. While the sun shone with that dazzling light in which her love was born and grew till it possessed her whole being, she was kept firm in her unwavering resolve by the mysterious whisperings of desire which filled her heart with impatient longing for the darkness that would mean the end of danger and strife, the beginning of happiness, the fulfilling of love, the completeness of life. It had set at last! The short tropical twilight went out before she could draw the long breath of relief; and now the sudden darkness seemed to be full of menacing voices calling upon her to rush headlong into the unknown; to be true to her own impulses, to give herself up to the passion she had evoked and shared. He was waiting! In the solitude of the secluded clearing, in the vast silence of the forest he was waiting alone, a fugitive in fear of his life. Indifferent to his danger he was waiting for her. It was for her only that he had come; and now as the time approached when he should have his reward, she asked herself with dismay what meant that chilling doubt of her own will and of her own desire? With an effort she shook off the fear of the passing weakness. He should have his reward. Her woman's love and her woman's honour overcame the faltering distrust of that unknown future waiting for her in the darkness of the river. "No, you will not return," muttered Mrs. Almayer, prophetically. "Without you he will not go, and if he remains here--" She waved her hand towards the lights of "Almayer's Folly," and the unfinished sentence died out in a threatening murmur. The two women had met behind the house, and now were walking slowly together towards the creek where all the canoes were moored. Arrived at the fringe of bushes they stopped by a common impulse, and Mrs. Almayer, laying her hand on her daughter's arm, tried in vain to look close into the girl's averted face. When she attempted to speak her first words were lost in a stifled sob that sounded strangely coming from that woman who, of all human passions, seemed to know only those of anger and hate. "You are going away to be a great Ranee," she said at last, in a voice that was steady enough now, "and if you be wise you shall have much power that will endure many days, and even last into your old age. What have I been? A slave all my life, and I have cooked rice for a man who had no courage and no wisdom. Hai! I! even I, was given in gift by a chief and a warrior to a man that was neither. Hai! Hai!" She wailed to herself softly, lamenting the lost possibilities of murder and mischief that could have fallen to her lot had she been mated with a congenial spirit. Nina bent down over Mrs. Almayer's slight form and scanned attentively, under the stars that had rushed out on the black sky and now hung breathless over that strange parting, her mother's shrivelled features, and looked close into the sunken eyes that could see into her own dark future by the light of a long and a painful experience. Again she felt herself fascinated, as of old, by her mother's exalted mood and by the oracular certainty of expression which, together with her fits of violence, had contributed not a little to the reputation for witchcraft she enjoyed in the settlement. * * * * * "I was a slave, and you shall be a queen," went on Mrs. Almayer, looking straight before her; "but remember men's strength and their weakness. Tremble before his anger, so that he may see your fear in the light of day; but in your heart you may laugh, for after sunset he is your slave." "A slave! He! The master of life! You do not know him, mother." Mrs. Almayer condescended to laugh contemptuously. "You speak like a fool of a white woman," she exclaimed. "What do you know of men's anger and of men's love? Have you watched the sleep of men weary of dealing death? Have you felt about you the strong arm that could drive a kriss deep into a beating heart? Yah! you are a white woman, and ought to pray to a woman-god!" "Why do you say this? I have listened to your words so long that I have forgotten my old life. If I was white would I stand here, ready to go? Mother, I shall return to the house and look once more at my father's face." "No!" said Mrs. Almayer, violently. "No, he sleeps now the sleep of gin; and if you went back he might awake and see you. No, he shall never see you. When the terrible old man took you away from me when you were little, you remember--" "It was such a long time ago," murmured Nina. "I remember," went on Mrs. Almayer, fiercely. "I wanted to look at your face again. He said no! I heard you cry and jumped into the river. You were his daughter then; you are my daughter now. Never shall you go back to that house; you shall never cross this courtyard again. No! no!" Her voice rose almost to a shout. On the other side of the creek there was a rustle in the long grass. The two women heard it, and listened for a while in startled silence. "I shall go," said Nina, in a cautious but intense whisper. "What is your hate or your revenge to me?" She moved towards the house, Mrs. Almayer clinging to her and trying to pull her back. "Stop, you shall not go!" she gasped. Nina pushed away her mother impatiently and gathered up her skirts for a quick run, but Mrs. Almayer ran forward and turned round, facing her daughter with outstretched arms. "If you move another step," she exclaimed, breathing quickly, "I shall cry out. Do you see those lights in the big house? There sit two white men, angry because they cannot have the blood of the man you love. And in those dark houses," she continued, more calmly as she pointed towards the settlement, "my voice could wake up men that would lead the Orang Blanda soldiers to him who is waiting--for you." She could not see her daughter's face, but the white figure before her stood silent and irresolute in the darkness. Mrs. Almayer pursued her advantage. "Give up your old life! Forget!" she said in entreating tones. "Forget that you ever looked at a white face; forget their words; forget their thoughts. They speak lies. And they think lies because they despise us that are better than they are, but not so strong. Forget their friendship and their contempt; forget their many gods. Girl, why do you want to remember the past when there is a warrior and a chief ready to give many lives--his own life--for one of your smiles?" While she spoke she pushed gently her daughter towards the canoes, hiding her own fear, anxiety, and doubt under the flood of passionate words that left Nina no time to think and no opportunity to protest, even if she had wished it. But she did not wish it now. At the bottom of that passing desire to look again at her father's face there was no strong affection. She felt no scruples and no remorse at leaving suddenly that man whose sentiment towards herself she could not understand, she could not even see. There was only an instinctive clinging to old life, to old habits, to old faces; that fear of finality which lurks in every human breast and prevents so many heroisms and so many crimes. For years she had stood between her mother and her father, the one so strong in her weakness, the other so weak where he could have been strong. Between those two beings so dissimilar, so antagonistic, she stood with mute heart wondering and angry at the fact of her own existence. It seemed so unreasonable, so humiliating to be flung there in that settlement and to see the days rush by into the past, without a hope, a desire, or an aim that would justify the life she had to endure in ever-growing weariness. She had little belief and no sympathy for her father's dreams; but the savage ravings of her mother chanced to strike a responsive chord, deep down somewhere in her despairing heart; and she dreamed dreams of her own with the persistent absorption of a captive thinking of liberty within the walls of his prison cell. With the coming of Dain she found the road to freedom by obeying the voice of the new-born impulses, and with surprised joy she thought she could read in his eyes the answer to all the questionings of her heart. She understood now the reason and the aim of life; and in the triumphant unveiling of that mystery she threw away disdainfully her past with its sad thoughts, its bitter feelings, and its faint affections, now withered and dead in contact with her fierce passion. Mrs. Almayer unmoored Nina's own canoe and, straightening herself painfully, stood, painter in hand, looking at her daughter. "Quick," she said; "get away before the moon rises, while the river is dark. I am afraid of Abdulla's slaves. The wretches prowl in the night often, and might see and follow you. There are two paddles in the canoe." Nina approached her mother and hesitatingly touched lightly with her lips the wrinkled forehead. Mrs. Almayer snorted contemptuously in protest against that tenderness which she, nevertheless, feared could be contagious. "Shall I ever see you again, mother?" murmured Nina. "No," said Mrs. Almayer, after a short silence. "Why should you return here where it is my fate to die? You will live far away in splendour and might. When I hear of white men driven from the islands, then I shall know that you are alive, and that you remember my words." "I shall always remember," returned Nina, earnestly; "but where is my power, and what can I do?" "Do not let him look too long in your eyes, nor lay his head on your knees without reminding him that men should fight before they rest. And if he lingers, give him his kriss yourself and bid him go, as the wife of a mighty prince should do when the enemies are near. Let him slay the white men that come to us to trade, with prayers on their lips and loaded guns in their hands. Ah!"--she ended with a sigh--"they are on every sea, and on every shore; and they are very many!" She swung the bow of the canoe towards the river, but did not let go the gunwale, keeping her hand on it in irresolute thoughtfulness. Nina put the point of the paddle against the bank, ready to shove off into the stream. "What is it, mother?" she asked, in a low voice. "Do you hear anything?" "No," said Mrs. Almayer, absently. "Listen, Nina," she continued, abruptly, after a slight pause, "in after years there will be other women--" A stifled cry in the boat interrupted her, and the paddle rattled in the canoe as it slipped from Nina's hands, which she put out in a protesting gesture. Mrs. Almayer fell on her knees on the bank and leaned over the gunwale so as to bring her own face close to her daughter's. "There will be other women," she repeated firmly; "I tell you that, because you are half white, and may forget that he is a great chief, and that such things must be. Hide your anger, and do not let him see on your face the pain that will eat your heart. Meet him with joy in your eyes and wisdom on your lips, for to you he will turn in sadness or in doubt. As long as he looks upon many women your power will last, but should there be one, one only with whom he seems to forget you, then--" "I could not live," exclaimed Nina, covering her face with both her hands. "Do not speak so, mother; it could not be." "Then," went on Mrs. Almayer, steadily, "to that woman, Nina, show no mercy." She moved the canoe down towards the stream by the gunwale, and gripped it with both her hands, the bow pointing into the river. "Are you crying?" she asked sternly of her daughter, who sat still with covered face. "Arise, and take your paddle, for he has waited long enough. And remember, Nina, no mercy; and if you must strike, strike with a steady hand." She put out all her strength, and swinging her body over the water, shot the light craft far into the stream. When she recovered herself from the effort she tried vainly to catch a glimpse of the canoe that seemed to have dissolved suddenly into the white mist trailing over the heated waters of the Pantai. After listening for a while intently on her knees, Mrs. Almayer rose with a deep sigh, while two tears wandered slowly down her withered cheeks. She wiped them off quickly with a wisp of her grey hair as if ashamed of herself, but could not stifle another loud sigh, for her heart was heavy and she suffered much, being unused to tender emotions. This time she fancied she had heard a faint noise, like the echo of her own sigh, and she stopped, straining her ears to catch the slightest sound, and peering apprehensively towards the bushes near her. "Who is there?" she asked, in an unsteady voice, while her imagination peopled the solitude of the riverside with ghost-like forms. "Who is there?" she repeated faintly. There was no answer: only the voice of the river murmuring in sad monotone behind the white veil seemed to swell louder for a moment, to die away again in a soft whisper of eddies washing against the bank. Mrs. Almayer shook her head as if in answer to her own thoughts, and walked quickly away from the bushes, looking to the right and left watchfully. She went straight towards the cooking-shed, observing that the embers of the fire there glowed more brightly than usual, as if somebody had been adding fresh fuel to the fires during the evening. As she approached, Babalatchi, who had been squatting in the warm glow, rose and met her in the shadow outside. "Is she gone?" asked the anxious statesman, hastily. "Yes," answered Mrs. Almayer. "What are the white men doing? When did you leave them?" "They are sleeping now, I think. May they never wake!" exclaimed Babalatchi, fervently. "Oh! but they are devils, and made much talk and trouble over that carcase. The chief threatened me twice with his hand, and said he would have me tied up to a tree. Tie me up to a tree! Me!" he repeated, striking his breast violently. Mrs. Almayer laughed tauntingly. "And you salaamed and asked for mercy. Men with arms by their side acted otherwise when I was young." "And where are they, the men of your youth? You mad woman!" retorted Babalatchi, angrily. "Killed by the Dutch. Aha! But I shall live to deceive them. A man knows when to fight and when to tell peaceful lies. You would know that if you were not a woman." But Mrs. Almayer did not seem to hear him. With bent body and outstretched arm she appeared to be listening to some noise behind the shed. "There are strange sounds," she whispered, with evident alarm. "I have heard in the air the sounds of grief, as of a sigh and weeping. That was by the riverside. And now again I heard--" "Where?" asked Babalatchi, in an altered voice. "What did you hear?" "Close here. It was like a breath long drawn. I wish I had burnt the paper over the body before it was buried." "Yes," assented Babalatchi. "But the white men had him thrown into a hole at once. You know he found his death on the river," he added cheerfully, "and his ghost may hail the canoes, but would leave the land alone." Mrs. Almayer, who had been craning her neck to look round the corner of the shed, drew back her head. "There is nobody there," she said, reassured. "Is it not time for the Rajah war-canoe to go to the clearing?" "I have been waiting for it here, for I myself must go," explained Babalatchi. "I think I will go over and see what makes them late. When will you come? The Rajah gives you refuge." "I shall paddle over before the break of day. I cannot leave my dollars behind," muttered Mrs. Almayer. They separated. Babalatchi crossed the courtyard towards the creek to get his canoe, and Mrs. Almayer walked slowly to the house, ascended the plankway, and passing through the back verandah entered the passage leading to the front of the house; but before going in she turned in the doorway and looked back at the empty and silent courtyard, now lit up by the rays of the rising moon. No sooner she had disappeared, however, than a vague shape flitted out from amongst the stalks of the banana plantation, darted over the moonlit space, and fell in the darkness at the foot of the verandah. It might have been the shadow of a driving cloud, so noiseless and rapid was its passage, but for the trail of disturbed grass, whose feathery heads trembled and swayed for a long time in the moonlight before they rested motionless and gleaming, like a design of silver sprays embroidered on a sombre background. Mrs. Almayer lighted the cocoanut lamp, and lifting cautiously the red curtain, gazed upon her husband, shading the light with her hand. Almayer, huddled up in the chair, one of his arms hanging down, the other thrown across the lower part of his face as if to ward off an invisible enemy, his legs stretched straight out, slept heavily, unconscious of the unfriendly eyes that looked upon him in disparaging criticism. At his feet lay the overturned table, amongst a wreck of crockery and broken bottles. The appearance as of traces left by a desperate struggle was accentuated by the chairs, which seemed to have been scattered violently all over the place, and now lay about the verandah with a lamentable aspect of inebriety in their helpless attitudes. Only Nina's big rocking- chair, standing black and motionless on its high runners, towered above the chaos of demoralised furniture, unflinchingly dignified and patient, waiting for its burden. With a last scornful look towards the sleeper, Mrs. Almayer passed behind the curtain into her own room. A couple of bats, encouraged by the darkness and the peaceful state of affairs, resumed their silent and oblique gambols above Almayer's head, and for a long time the profound quiet of the house was unbroken, save for the deep breathing of the sleeping man and the faint tinkle of silver in the hands of the woman preparing for flight. In the increasing light of the moon that had risen now above the night mist, the objects on the verandah came out strongly outlined in black splashes of shadow with all the uncompromising ugliness of their disorder, and a caricature of the sleeping Almayer appeared on the dirty whitewash of the wall behind him in a grotesquely exaggerated detail of attitude and feature enlarged to a heroic size. The discontented bats departed in quest of darker places, and a lizard came out in short, nervous rushes, and, pleased with the white table-cloth, stopped on it in breathless immobility that would have suggested sudden death had it not been for the melodious call he exchanged with a less adventurous friend hiding amongst the lumber in the courtyard. Then the boards in the passage creaked, the lizard vanished, and Almayer stirred uneasily with a sigh: slowly, out of the senseless annihilation of drunken sleep, he was returning, through the land of dreams, to waking consciousness. Almayer's head rolled from shoulder to shoulder in the oppression of his dream; the heavens had descended upon him like a heavy mantle, and trailed in starred folds far under him. Stars above, stars all round him; and from the stars under his feet rose a whisper full of entreaties and tears, and sorrowful faces flitted amongst the clusters of light filling the infinite space below. How escape from the importunity of lamentable cries and from the look of staring, sad eyes in the faces which pressed round him till he gasped for breath under the crushing weight of worlds that hung over his aching shoulders? Get away! But how? If he attempted to move he would step off into nothing, and perish in the crashing fall of that universe of which he was the only support. And what were the voices saying? Urging him to move! Why? Move to destruction! Not likely! The absurdity of the thing filled him with indignation. He got a firmer foothold and stiffened his muscles in heroic resolve to carry his burden to all eternity. And ages passed in the superhuman labour, amidst the rush of circling worlds; in the plaintive murmur of sorrowful voices urging him to desist before it was too late--till the mysterious power that had laid upon him the giant task seemed at last to seek his destruction. With terror he felt an irresistible hand shaking him by the shoulder, while the chorus of voices swelled louder into an agonised prayer to go, go before it is too late. He felt himself slipping, losing his balance, as something dragged at his legs, and he fell. With a faint cry he glided out of the anguish of perishing creation into an imperfect waking that seemed to be still under the spell of his dream. "What? What?" he murmured sleepily, without moving or opening his eyes. His head still felt heavy, and he had not the courage to raise his eyelids. In his ears there still lingered the sound of entreating whisper.--"Am I awake?--Why do I hear the voices?" he argued to himself, hazily.--"I cannot get rid of the horrible nightmare yet.--I have been very drunk.--What is that shaking me? I am dreaming yet--I must open my eyes and be done with it. I am only half awake, it is evident." He made an effort to shake off his stupor and saw a face close to his, glaring at him with staring eyeballs. He closed his eyes again in amazed horror and sat up straight in the chair, trembling in every limb. What was this apparition?--His own fancy, no doubt.--His nerves had been much tried the day before--and then the drink! He would not see it again if he had the courage to look.--He would look directly.--Get a little steadier first.--So.--Now. He looked. The figure of a woman standing in the steely light, her hands stretched forth in a suppliant gesture, confronted him from the far-off end of the verandah; and in the space between him and the obstinate phantom floated the murmur of words that fell on his ears in a jumble of torturing sentences, the meaning of which escaped the utmost efforts of his brain. Who spoke the Malay words? Who ran away? Why too late--and too late for what? What meant those words of hate and love mixed so strangely together, the ever-recurring names falling on his ears again and again--Nina, Dain; Dain, Nina? Dain was dead, and Nina was sleeping, unaware of the terrible experience through which he was now passing. Was he going to be tormented for ever, sleeping or waking, and have no peace either night or day? What was the meaning of this? He shouted the last words aloud. The shadowy woman seemed to shrink and recede a little from him towards the doorway, and there was a shriek. Exasperated by the incomprehensible nature of his torment, Almayer made a rush upon the apparition, which eluded his grasp, and he brought up heavily against the wall. Quick as lightning he turned round and pursued fiercely the mysterious figure fleeing from him with piercing shrieks that were like fuel to the flames of his anger. Over the furniture, round the overturned table, and now he had it cornered behind Nina's chair. To the left, to the right they dodged, the chair rocking madly between them, she sending out shriek after shriek at every feint, and he growling meaningless curses through his hard set teeth. "Oh! the fiendish noise that split his head and seemed to choke his breath.--It would kill him.--It must be stopped!" An insane desire to crush that yelling thing induced him to cast himself recklessly over the chair with a desperate grab, and they came down together in a cloud of dust amongst the splintered wood. The last shriek died out under him in a faint gurgle, and he had secured the relief of absolute silence. He looked at the woman's face under him. A real woman! He knew her. By all that is wonderful! Taminah! He jumped up ashamed of his fury and stood perplexed, wiping his forehead. The girl struggled to a kneeling posture and embraced his legs in a frenzied prayer for mercy. "Don't be afraid," he said, raising her. "I shall not hurt you. Why do you come to my house in the night? And if you had to come, why not go behind the curtain where the women sleep?" "The place behind the curtain is empty," gasped Taminah, catching her breath between the words. "There are no women in your house any more, Tuan. I saw the old Mem go away before I tried to wake you. I did not want your women, I wanted you." "Old Mem!" repeated Almayer. "Do you mean my wife?" She nodded her head. "But of my daughter you are not afraid?" said Almayer. "Have you not heard me?" she exclaimed. "Have I not spoken for a long time when you lay there with eyes half open? She is gone too." "I was asleep. Can you not tell when a man is sleeping and when awake?" "Sometimes," answered Taminah in a low voice; "sometimes the spirit lingers close to a sleeping body and may hear. I spoke a long time before I touched you, and I spoke softly for fear it would depart at a sudden noise and leave you sleeping for ever. I took you by the shoulder only when you began to mutter words I could not understand. Have you not heard, then, and do you know nothing?" "Nothing of what you said. What is it? Tell again if you want me to know." He took her by the shoulder and led her unresisting to the front of the verandah into a stronger light. She wrung her hands with such an appearance of grief that he began to be alarmed. "Speak," he said. "You made noise enough to wake even dead men. And yet nobody living came," he added to himself in an uneasy whisper. "Are you mute? Speak!" he repeated. In a rush of words which broke out after a short struggle from her trembling lips she told him the tale of Nina's love and her own jealousy. Several times he looked angrily into her face and told her to be silent; but he could not stop the sounds that seemed to him to run out in a hot stream, swirl about his feet, and rise in scalding waves about him, higher, higher, drowning his heart, touching his lips with a feel of molten lead, blotting out his sight in scorching vapour, closing over his head, merciless and deadly. When she spoke of the deception as to Dain's death of which he had been the victim only that day, he glanced again at her with terrible eyes, and made her falter for a second, but he turned away directly, and his face suddenly lost all expression in a stony stare far away over the river. Ah! the river! His old friend and his old enemy, speaking always with the same voice as he runs from year to year bringing fortune or disappointment happiness or pain, upon the same varying but unchanged surface of glancing currents and swirling eddies. For many years he had listened to the passionless and soothing murmur that sometimes was the song of hope, at times the song of triumph, of encouragement; more often the whisper of consolation that spoke of better days to come. For so many years! So many years! And now to the accompaniment of that murmur he listened to the slow and painful beating of his heart. He listened attentively, wondering at the regularity of its beats. He began to count mechanically. One, two. Why count? At the next beat it must stop. No heart could suffer so and beat so steadily for long. Those regular strokes as of a muffled hammer that rang in his ears must stop soon. Still beating unceasing and cruel. No man can bear this; and is this the last, or will the next one be the last?--How much longer? O God! how much longer? His hand weighed heavier unconsciously on the girl's shoulder, and she spoke the last words of her story crouching at his feet with tears of pain and shame and anger. Was her revenge to fail her? This white man was like a senseless stone. Too late! Too late! "And you saw her go?" Almayer's voice sounded harshly above her head. "Did I not tell you?" she sobbed, trying to wriggle gently out from under his grip. "Did I not tell you that I saw the witchwoman push the canoe? I lay hidden in the grass and heard all the words. She that we used to call the white Mem wanted to return to look at your face, but the witchwoman forbade her, and--" She sank lower yet on her elbow, turning half round under the downward push of the heavy hand, her face lifted up to him with spiteful eyes. "And she obeyed," she shouted out in a half-laugh, half-cry of pain. "Let me go, Tuan. Why are you angry with me? Hasten, or you shall be too late to show your anger to the deceitful woman." Almayer dragged her up to her feet and looked close into her face while she struggled, turning her head away from his wild stare. "Who sent you here to torment me?" he asked, violently. "I do not believe you. You lie." He straightened his arm suddenly and flung her across the verandah towards the doorway, where she lay immobile and silent, as if she had left her life in his grasp, a dark heap, without a sound or a stir. "Oh! Nina!" whispered Almayer, in a voice in which reproach and love spoke together in pained tenderness. "Oh! Nina! I do not believe." A light draught from the river ran over the courtyard in a wave of bowing grass and, entering the verandah, touched Almayer's forehead with its cool breath, in a caress of infinite pity. The curtain in the women's doorway blew out and instantly collapsed with startling helplessness. He stared at the fluttering stuff. "Nina!" cried Almayer. "Where are you, Nina?" The wind passed out of the empty house in a tremulous sigh, and all was still. Almayer hid his face in his hands as if to shut out a loathsome sight. When, hearing a slight rustle, he uncovered his eyes, the dark heap by the door was gone. CHAPTER XI. In the middle of a shadowless square of moonlight, shining on a smooth and level expanse of young rice-shoots, a little shelter-hut perched on high posts, the pile of brushwood near by and the glowing embers of a fire with a man stretched before it, seemed very small and as if lost in the pale green iridescence reflected from the ground. On three sides of the clearing, appearing very far away in the deceptive light, the big trees of the forest, lashed together with manifold bonds by a mass of tangled creepers, looked down at the growing young life at their feet with the sombre resignation of giants that had lost faith in their strength. And in the midst of them the merciless creepers clung to the big trunks in cable-like coils, leaped from tree to tree, hung in thorny festoons from the lower boughs, and, sending slender tendrils on high to seek out the smallest branches, carried death to their victims in an exulting riot of silent destruction. On the fourth side, following the curve of the bank of that branch of the Pantai that formed the only access to the clearing, ran a black line of young trees, bushes, and thick second growth, unbroken save for a small gap chopped out in one place. At that gap began the narrow footpath leading from the water's edge to the grass-built shelter used by the night watchers when the ripening crop had to be protected from the wild pigs. The pathway ended at the foot of the piles on which the hut was built, in a circular space covered with ashes and bits of burnt wood. In the middle of that space, by the dim fire, lay Dain. He turned over on his side with an impatient sigh, and, pillowing his head on his bent arm, lay quietly with his face to the dying fire. The glowing embers shone redly in a small circle, throwing a gleam into his wide-open eyes, and at every deep breath the fine white ash of bygone fires rose in a light cloud before his parted lips, and danced away from the warm glow into the moonbeams pouring down upon Bulangi's clearing. His body was weary with the exertion of the past few days, his mind more weary still with the strain of solitary waiting for his fate. Never before had he felt so helpless. He had heard the report of the gun fired on board the launch, and he knew that his life was in untrustworthy hands, and that his enemies were very near. During the slow hours of the afternoon he roamed about on the edge of the forest, or, hiding in the bushes, watched the creek with unquiet eyes for some sign of danger. He feared not death, yet he desired ardently to live, for life to him was Nina. She had promised to come, to follow him, to share his danger and his splendour. But with her by his side he cared not for danger, and without her there could be no splendour and no joy in existence. Crouching in his shady hiding-place, he closed his eyes, trying to evoke the gracious and charming image of the white figure that for him was the beginning and the end of life. With eyes shut tight, his teeth hard set, he tried in a great effort of passionate will to keep his hold on that vision of supreme delight. In vain! His heart grew heavy as the figure of Nina faded away to be replaced by another vision this time--a vision of armed men, of angry faces, of glittering arms--and he seemed to hear the hum of excited and triumphant voices as they discovered him in his hiding-place. Startled by the vividness of his fancy, he would open his eyes, and, leaping out into the sunlight, resume his aimless wanderings around the clearing. As he skirted in his weary march the edge of the forest he glanced now and then into its dark shade, so enticing in its deceptive appearance of coolness, so repellent with its unrelieved gloom, where lay, entombed and rotting, countless generations of trees, and where their successors stood as if mourning, in dark green foliage, immense and helpless, awaiting their turn. Only the parasites seemed to live there in a sinuous rush upwards into the air and sunshine, feeding on the dead and the dying alike, and crowning their victims with pink and blue flowers that gleamed amongst the boughs, incongruous and cruel, like a strident and mocking note in the solemn harmony of the doomed trees. A man could hide there, thought Dain, as he approached a place where the creepers had been torn and hacked into an archway that might have been the beginning of a path. As he bent down to look through he heard angry grunting, and a sounder of wild pig crashed away in the undergrowth. An acrid smell of damp earth and of decaying leaves took him by the throat, and he drew back with a scared face, as if he had been touched by the breath of Death itself. The very air seemed dead in there--heavy and stagnating, poisoned with the corruption of countless ages. He went on, staggering on his way, urged by the nervous restlessness that made him feel tired yet caused him to loathe the very idea of immobility and repose. Was he a wild man to hide in the woods and perhaps be killed there--in the darkness--where there was no room to breathe? He would wait for his enemies in the sunlight, where he could see the sky and feel the breeze. He knew how a Malay chief should die. The sombre and desperate fury, that peculiar inheritance of his race, took possession of him, and he glared savagely across the clearing towards the gap in the bushes by the riverside. They would come from there. In imagination he saw them now. He saw the bearded faces and the white jackets of the officers, the light on the levelled barrels of the rifles. What is the bravery of the greatest warrior before the firearms in the hand of a slave? He would walk toward them with a smiling face, with his hands held out in a sign of submission till he was very near them. He would speak friendly words--come nearer yet--yet nearer--so near that they could touch him with their hands and stretch them out to make him a captive. That would be the time: with a shout and a leap he would be in the midst of them, kriss in hand, killing, killing, killing, and would die with the shouts of his enemies in his ears, their warm blood spurting before his eyes. Carried away by his excitement, he snatched the kriss hidden in his sarong, and, drawing a long breath, rushed forward, struck at the empty air, and fell on his face. He lay as if stunned in the sudden reaction from his exaltation, thinking that, even if he died thus gloriously, it would have to be before he saw Nina. Better so. If he saw her again he felt that death would be too terrible. With horror he, the descendant of Rajahs and of conquerors, had to face the doubt of his own bravery. His desire of life tormented him in a paroxysm of agonising remorse. He had not the courage to stir a limb. He had lost faith in himself, and there was nothing else in him of what makes a man. The suffering remained, for it is ordered that it should abide in the human body even to the last breath, and fear remained. Dimly he could look into the depths of his passionate love, see its strength and its weakness, and felt afraid. The sun went down slowly. The shadow of the western forest marched over the clearing, covered the man's scorched shoulders with its cool mantle, and went on hurriedly to mingle with the shadows of other forests on the eastern side. The sun lingered for a while amongst the light tracery of the higher branches, as if in friendly reluctance to abandon the body stretched in the green paddy-field. Then Dain, revived by the cool of the evening breeze, sat up and stared round him. As he did so the sun dipped sharply, as if ashamed of being detected in a sympathising attitude, and the clearing, which during the day was all light, became suddenly all darkness, where the fire gleamed like an eye. Dain walked slowly towards the creek, and, divesting himself of his torn sarong, his only garment, entered the water cautiously. He had had nothing to eat that day, and had not dared show himself in daylight by the water-side to drink. Now, as he swam silently, he swallowed a few mouthfuls of water that lapped about his lips. This did him good, and he walked with greater confidence in himself and others as he returned towards the fire. Had he been betrayed by Lakamba all would have been over by this. He made up a big blaze, and while it lasted dried himself, and then lay down by the embers. He could not sleep, but he felt a great numbness in all his limbs. His restlessness was gone, and he was content to lay still, measuring the time by watching the stars that rose in endless succession above the forests, while the slight puffs of wind under the cloudless sky seemed to fan their twinkle into a greater brightness. Dreamily he assured himself over and over again that she would come, till the certitude crept into his heart and filled him with a great peace. Yes, when the next day broke, they would be together on the great blue sea that was like life--away from the forests that were like death. He murmured the name of Nina into the silent space with a tender smile: this seemed to break the spell of stillness, and far away by the creek a frog croaked loudly as if in answer. A chorus of loud roars and plaintive calls rose from the mud along the line of bushes. He laughed heartily; doubtless it was their love-song. He felt affectionate towards the frogs and listened, pleased with the noisy life near him. When the moon peeped above the trees he felt the old impatience and the old restlessness steal over him. Why was she so late? True, it was a long way to come with a single paddle. With what skill and what endurance could those small hands manage a heavy paddle! It was very wonderful--such small hands, such soft little palms that knew how to touch his cheek with a feel lighter than the fanning of a butterfly's wing. Wonderful! He lost himself lovingly in the contemplation of this tremendous mystery, and when he looked at the moon again it had risen a hand's breadth above the trees. Would she come? He forced himself to lay still, overcoming the impulse to rise and rush round the clearing again. He turned this way and that; at last, quivering with the effort, he lay on his back, and saw her face among the stars looking down on him. The croaking of frogs suddenly ceased. With the watchfulness of a hunted man Dain sat up, listening anxiously, and heard several splashes in the water as the frogs took rapid headers into the creek. He knew that they had been alarmed by something, and stood up suspicious and attentive. A slight grating noise, then the dry sound as of two pieces of wood struck against each other. Somebody was about to land! He took up an armful of brushwood, and, without taking his eyes from the path, held it over the embers of his fire. He waited, undecided, and saw something gleam amongst the bushes; then a white figure came out of the shadows and seemed to float towards him in the pale light. His heart gave a great leap and stood still, then went on shaking his frame in furious beats. He dropped the brushwood upon the glowing coals, and had an impression of shouting her name--of rushing to meet her; yet he emitted no sound, he stirred not an inch, but he stood silent and motionless like chiselled bronze under the moonlight that streamed over his naked shoulders. As he stood still, fighting with his breath, as if bereft of his senses by the intensity of his delight, she walked up to him with quick, resolute steps, and, with the appearance of one about to leap from a dangerous height, threw both her arms round his neck with a sudden gesture. A small blue gleam crept amongst the dry branches, and the crackling of reviving fire was the only sound as they faced each other in the speechless emotion of that meeting; then the dry fuel caught at once, and a bright hot flame shot upwards in a blaze as high as their heads, and in its light they saw each other's eyes. Neither of them spoke. He was regaining his senses in a slight tremor that ran upwards along his rigid body and hung about his trembling lips. She drew back her head and fastened her eyes on his in one of those long looks that are a woman's most terrible weapon; a look that is more stirring than the closest touch, and more dangerous than the thrust of a dagger, because it also whips the soul out of the body, but leaves the body alive and helpless, to be swayed here and there by the capricious tempests of passion and desire; a look that enwraps the whole body, and that penetrates into the innermost recesses of the being, bringing terrible defeat in the delirious uplifting of accomplished conquest. It has the same meaning for the man of the forests and the sea as for the man threading the paths of the more dangerous wilderness of houses and streets. Men that had felt in their breasts the awful exultation such a look awakens become mere things of to-day--which is paradise; forget yesterday--which was suffering; care not for to-morrow--which may be perdition. They wish to live under that look for ever. It is the look of woman's surrender. He understood, and, as if suddenly released from his invisible bonds, fell at her feet with a shout of joy, and, embracing her knees, hid his head in the folds of her dress, murmuring disjointed words of gratitude and love. Never before had he felt so proud as now, when at the feet of that woman that half belonged to his enemies. Her fingers played with his hair in an absent-minded caress as she stood absorbed in thought. The thing was done. Her mother was right. The man was her slave. As she glanced down at his kneeling form she felt a great pitying tenderness for that man she was used to call--even in her thoughts--the master of life. She lifted her eyes and looked sadly at the southern heavens under which lay the path of their lives--her own, and that man's at her feet. Did he not say himself is that she was the light of his life? She would be his light and his wisdom; she would be his greatness and his strength; yet hidden from the eyes of all men she would be, above all, his only and lasting weakness. A very woman! In the sublime vanity of her kind she was thinking already of moulding a god from the clay at her feet. A god for others to worship. She was content to see him as he was now, and to feel him quiver at the slightest touch of her light fingers. And while her eyes looked sadly at the southern stars a faint smile seemed to be playing about her firm lips. Who can tell in the fitful light of a camp fire? It might have been a smile of triumph, or of conscious power, or of tender pity, or, perhaps, of love. She spoke softly to him, and he rose to his feet, putting his arm round her in quiet consciousness of his ownership; she laid her head on his shoulder with a sense of defiance to all the world in the encircling protection of that arm. He was hers with all his qualities and all his faults. His strength and his courage, his recklessness and his daring, his simple wisdom and his savage cunning--all were hers. As they passed together out of the red light of the fire into the silver shower of rays that fell upon the clearing he bent his head over her face, and she saw in his eyes the dreamy intoxication of boundless felicity from the close touch of her slight figure clasped to his side. With a rhythmical swing of their bodies they walked through the light towards the outlying shadows of the forests that seemed to guard their happiness in solemn immobility. Their forms melted in the play of light and shadow at the foot of the big trees, but the murmur of tender words lingered over the empty clearing, grew faint, and died out. A sigh as of immense sorrow passed over the land in the last effort of the dying breeze, and in the deep silence which succeeded, the earth and the heavens were suddenly hushed up in the mournful contemplation of human love and human blindness. They walked slowly back to the fire. He made for her a seat out of the dry branches, and, throwing himself down at her feet, lay his head in her lap and gave himself up to the dreamy delight of the passing hour. Their voices rose and fell, tender or animated as they spoke of their love and of their future. She, with a few skilful words spoken from time to time, guided his thoughts, and he let his happiness flow in a stream of talk passionate and tender, grave or menacing, according to the mood which she evoked. He spoke to her of his own island, where the gloomy forests and the muddy rivers were unknown. He spoke of its terraced fields, of the murmuring clear rills of sparkling water that flowed down the sides of great mountains, bringing life to the land and joy to its tillers. And he spoke also of the mountain peak that rising lonely above the belt of trees knew the secrets of the passing clouds, and was the dwelling-place of the mysterious spirit of his race, of the guardian genius of his house. He spoke of vast horizons swept by fierce winds that whistled high above the summits of burning mountains. He spoke of his forefathers that conquered ages ago the island of which he was to be the future ruler. And then as, in her interest, she brought her face nearer to his, he, touching lightly the thick tresses of her long hair, felt a sudden impulse to speak to her of the sea he loved so well; and he told her of its never-ceasing voice, to which he had listened as a child, wondering at its hidden meaning that no living man has penetrated yet; of its enchanting glitter; of its senseless and capricious fury; how its surface was for ever changing, and yet always enticing, while its depths were for ever the same, cold and cruel, and full of the wisdom of destroyed life. He told her how it held men slaves of its charm for a lifetime, and then, regardless of their devotion, swallowed them up, angry at their fear of its mystery, which it would never disclose, not even to those that loved it most. While he talked, Nina's head had been gradually sinking lower, and her face almost touched his now. Her hair was over his eyes, her breath was on his forehead, her arms were about his body. No two beings could be closer to each other, yet she guessed rather than understood the meaning of his last words that came out after a slight hesitation in a faint murmur, dying out imperceptibly into a profound and significant silence: "The sea, O Nina, is like a woman's heart." She closed his lips with a sudden kiss, and answered in a steady voice-- "But to the men that have no fear, O master of my life, the sea is ever true." Over their heads a film of dark, thread-like clouds, looking like immense cobwebs drifting under the stars, darkened the sky with the presage of the coming thunderstorm. From the invisible hills the first distant rumble of thunder came in a prolonged roll which, after tossing about from hill to hill, lost itself in the forests of the Pantai. Dain and Nina stood up, and the former looked at the sky uneasily. "It is time for Babalatchi to be here," he said. "The night is more than half gone. Our road is long, and a bullet travels quicker than the best canoe." "He will be here before the moon is hidden behind the clouds," said Nina. "I heard a splash in the water," she added. "Did you hear it too?" "Alligator," answered Dain shortly, with a careless glance towards the creek. "The darker the night," he continued, "the shorter will be our road, for then we could keep in the current of the main stream, but if it is light--even no more than now--we must follow the small channels of sleeping water, with nothing to help our paddles." "Dain," interposed Nina, earnestly, "it was no alligator. I heard the bushes rustling near the landing-place." "Yes," said Dain, after listening awhile. "It cannot be Babalatchi, who would come in a big war canoe, and openly. Those that are coming, whoever they are, do not wish to make much noise. But you have heard, and now I can see," he went on quickly. "It is but one man. Stand behind me, Nina. If he is a friend he is welcome; if he is an enemy you shall see him die." He laid his hand on his kriss, and awaited the approach of his unexpected visitor. The fire was burning very low, and small clouds--precursors of the storm--crossed the face of the moon in rapid succession, and their flying shadows darkened the clearing. He could not make out who the man might be, but he felt uneasy at the steady advance of the tall figure walking on the path with a heavy tread, and hailed it with a command to stop. The man stopped at some little distance, and Dain expected him to speak, but all he could hear was his deep breathing. Through a break in the flying clouds a sudden and fleeting brightness descended upon the clearing. Before the darkness closed in again, Dain saw a hand holding some glittering object extended towards him, heard Nina's cry of "Father!" and in an instant the girl was between him and Almayer's revolver. Nina's loud cry woke up the echoes of the sleeping woods, and the three stood still as if waiting for the return of silence before they would give expression to their various feelings. At the appearance of Nina, Almayer's arm fell by his side, and he made a step forward. Dain pushed the girl gently aside. "Am I a wild beast that you should try to kill me suddenly and in the dark, Tuan Almayer?" said Dain, breaking the strained silence. "Throw some brushwood on the fire," he went on, speaking to Nina, "while I watch my white friend, lest harm should come to you or to me, O delight of my heart!" Almayer ground his teeth and raised his arm again. With a quick bound Dain was at his side: there was a short scuffle, during which one chamber of the revolver went off harmlessly, then the weapon, wrenched out of Almayer's hand, whirled through the air and fell in the bushes. The two men stood close together, breathing hard. The replenished fire threw out an unsteady circle of light and shone on the terrified face of Nina, who looked at them with outstretched hands. "Dain!" she cried out warningly, "Dain!" He waved his hand towards her in a reassuring gesture, and, turning to Almayer, said with great courtesy-- "Now we may talk, Tuan. It is easy to send out death, but can your wisdom recall the life? She might have been harmed," he continued, indicating Nina. "Your hand shook much; for myself I was not afraid." "Nina!" exclaimed Almayer, "come to me at once. What is this sudden madness? What bewitched you? Come to your father, and together we shall try to forget this horrible nightmare!" He opened his arms with the certitude of clasping her to his breast in another second. She did not move. As it dawned upon him that she did not mean to obey he felt a deadly cold creep into his heart, and, pressing the palms of his hands to his temples, he looked down on the ground in mute despair. Dain took Nina by the arm and led her towards her father. "Speak to him in the language of his people," he said. "He is grieving--as who would not grieve at losing thee, my pearl! Speak to him the last words he shall hear spoken by that voice, which must be very sweet to him, but is all my life to me." He released her, and, stepping back a few paces out of the circle of light, stood in the darkness looking at them with calm interest. The reflection of a distant flash of lightning lit up the clouds over their heads, and was followed after a short interval by the faint rumble of thunder, which mingled with Almayer's voice as he began to speak. "Do you know what you are doing? Do you know what is waiting for you if you follow that man? Have you no pity for yourself? Do you know that you shall be at first his plaything and then a scorned slave, a drudge, and a servant of some new fancy of that man?" She raised her hand to stop him, and turning her head slightly, asked-- "You hear this Dain! Is it true?" "By all the gods!" came the impassioned answer from the darkness--"by heaven and earth, by my head and thine I swear: this is a white man's lie. I have delivered my soul into your hands for ever; I breathe with your breath, I see with your eyes, I think with your mind, and I take you into my heart for ever." "You thief!" shouted the exasperated Almayer. A deep silence succeeded this outburst, then the voice of Dain was heard again. "Nay, Tuan," he said in a gentle tone, "that is not true also. The girl came of her own will. I have done no more but to show her my love like a man; she heard the cry of my heart, and she came, and the dowry I have given to the woman you call your wife." Almayer groaned in his extremity of rage and shame. Nina laid her hand lightly on his shoulder, and the contact, light as the touch of a falling leaf, seemed to calm him. He spoke quickly, and in English this time. "Tell me," he said--"tell me, what have they done to you, your mother and that man? What made you give yourself up to that savage? For he is a savage. Between him and you there is a barrier that nothing can remove. I can see in your eyes the look of those who commit suicide when they are mad. You are mad. Don't smile. It breaks my heart. If I were to see you drowning before my eyes, and I without the power to help you, I could not suffer a greater torment. Have you forgotten the teaching of so many years?" "No," she interrupted, "I remember it well. I remember how it ended also. Scorn for scorn, contempt for contempt, hate for hate. I am not of your race. Between your people and me there is also a barrier that nothing can remove. You ask why I want to go, and I ask you why I should stay." He staggered as if struck in the face, but with a quick, unhesitating grasp she caught him by the arm and steadied him. "Why you should stay!" he repeated slowly, in a dazed manner, and stopped short, astounded at the completeness of his misfortune. "You told me yesterday," she went on again, "that I could not understand or see your love for me: it is so. How can I? No two human beings understand each other. They can understand but their own voices. You wanted me to dream your dreams, to see your own visions--the visions of life amongst the white faces of those who cast me out from their midst in angry contempt. But while you spoke I listened to the voice of my own self; then this man came, and all was still; there was only the murmur of his love. You call him a savage! What do you call my mother, your wife?" "Nina!" cried Almayer, "take your eyes off my face." She looked down directly, but continued speaking only a little above a whisper. "In time," she went on, "both our voices, that man's and mine, spoke together in a sweetness that was intelligible to our ears only. You were speaking of gold then, but our ears were filled with the song of our love, and we did not hear you. Then I found that we could see through each other's eyes: that he saw things that nobody but myself and he could see. We entered a land where no one could follow us, and least of all you. Then I began to live." She paused. Almayer sighed deeply. With her eyes still fixed on the ground she began speaking again. "And I mean to live. I mean to follow him. I have been rejected with scorn by the white people, and now I am a Malay! He took me in his arms, he laid his life at my feet. He is brave; he will be powerful, and I hold his bravery and his strength in my hand, and I shall make him great. His name shall be remembered long after both our bodies are laid in the dust. I love you no less than I did before, but I shall never leave him, for without him I cannot live." "If he understood what you have said," answered Almayer, scornfully, "he must be highly flattered. You want him as a tool for some incomprehensible ambition of yours. Enough, Nina. If you do not go down at once to the creek, where Ali is waiting with my canoe, I shall tell him to return to the settlement and bring the Dutch officers here. You cannot escape from this clearing, for I have cast adrift your canoe. If the Dutch catch this hero of yours they will hang him as sure as I stand here. Now go." He made a step towards his daughter and laid hold of her by the shoulder, his other hand pointing down the path to the landing-place. "Beware!" exclaimed Dain; "this woman belongs to me!" Nina wrenched herself free and looked straight at Almayer's angry face. "No, I will not go," she said with desperate energy. "If he dies I shall die too!" "You die!" said Almayer, contemptuously. "Oh, no! You shall live a life of lies and deception till some other vagabond comes along to sing; how did you say that? The song of love to you! Make up your mind quickly." He waited for a while, and then added meaningly-- "Shall I call out to Ali?" "Call out," she answered in Malay, "you that cannot be true to your own countrymen. Only a few days ago you were selling the powder for their destruction; now you want to give up to them the man that yesterday you called your friend. Oh, Dain," she said, turning towards the motionless but attentive figure in the darkness, "instead of bringing you life I bring you death, for he will betray unless I leave you for ever!" Dain came into the circle of light, and, throwing his arm around Nina's neck, whispered in her ear--"I can kill him where he stands, before a sound can pass his lips. For you it is to say yes or no. Babalatchi cannot be far now." He straightened himself up, taking his arm off her shoulder, and confronted Almayer, who looked at them both with an expression of concentrated fury. "No!" she cried, clinging to Dain in wild alarm. "No! Kill me! Then perhaps he will let you go. You do not know the mind of a white man. He would rather see me dead than standing where I am. Forgive me, your slave, but you must not." She fell at his feet sobbing violently and repeating, "Kill me! Kill me!" "I want you alive," said Almayer, speaking also in Malay, with sombre calmness. "You go, or he hangs. Will you obey?" Dain shook Nina off, and, making a sudden lunge, struck Almayer full in the chest with the handle of his kriss, keeping the point towards himself. "Hai, look! It was easy for me to turn the point the other way," he said in his even voice. "Go, Tuan Putih," he added with dignity. "I give you your life, my life, and her life. I am the slave of this woman's desire, and she wills it so." There was not a glimmer of light in the sky now, and the tops of the trees were as invisible as their trunks, being lost in the mass of clouds that hung low over the woods, the clearing, and the river. Every outline had disappeared in the intense blackness that seemed to have destroyed everything but space. Only the fire glimmered like a star forgotten in this annihilation of all visible things, and nothing was heard after Dain ceased speaking but the sobs of Nina, whom he held in his arms, kneeling beside the fire. Almayer stood looking down at them in gloomy thoughtfulness. As he was opening his lips to speak they were startled by a cry of warning by the riverside, followed by the splash of many paddles and the sound of voices. "Babalatchi!" shouted Dain, lifting up Nina as he got upon his feet quickly. "Ada! Ada!" came the answer from the panting statesman who ran up the path and stood amongst them. "Run to my canoe," he said to Dain excitedly, without taking any notice of Almayer. "Run! we must go. That woman has told them all!" "What woman?" asked Dain, looking at Nina. Just then there was only one woman in the whole world for him. "The she-dog with white teeth; the seven times accursed slave of Bulangi. She yelled at Abdulla's gate till she woke up all Sambir. Now the white officers are coming, guided by her and Reshid. If you want to live, do not look at me, but go!" "How do you know this?" asked Almayer. "Oh, Tuan! what matters how I know! I have only one eye, but I saw lights in Abdulla's house and in his campong as we were paddling past. I have ears, and while we lay under the bank I have heard the messengers sent out to the white men's house." "Will you depart without that woman who is my daughter?" said Almayer, addressing Dain, while Babalatchi stamped with impatience, muttering, "Run! Run at once!" "No," answered Dain, steadily, "I will not go; to no man will I abandon this woman." "Then kill me and escape yourself," sobbed out Nina. He clasped her close, looking at her tenderly, and whispered, "We will never part, O Nina!" "I shall not stay here any longer," broke in Babalatchi, angrily. "This is great foolishness. No woman is worth a man's life. I am an old man, and I know." He picked up his staff, and, turning to go, looked at Dain as if offering him his last chance of escape. But Dain's face was hidden amongst Nina's black tresses, and he did not see this last appealing glance. Babalatchi vanished in the darkness. Shortly after his disappearance they heard the war canoe leave the landing-place in the swish of the numerous paddles dipped in the water together. Almost at the same time Ali came up from the riverside, two paddles on his shoulder. "Our canoe is hidden up the creek, Tuan Almayer," he said, "in the dense bush where the forest comes down to the water. I took it there because I heard from Babalatchi's paddlers that the white men are coming here." "Wait for me there," said Almayer, "but keep the canoe hidden." He remained silent, listening to Ali's footsteps, then turned to Nina. "Nina," he said sadly, "will you have no pity for me?" There was no answer. She did not even turn her head, which was pressed close to Dain's breast. He made a movement as if to leave them and stopped. By the dim glow of the burning-out fire he saw their two motionless figures. The woman's back turned to him with the long black hair streaming down over the white dress, and Dain's calm face looking at him above her head. "I cannot," he muttered to himself. After a long pause he spoke again a little lower, but in an unsteady voice, "It would be too great a disgrace. I am a white man." He broke down completely there, and went on tearfully, "I am a white man, and of good family. Very good family," he repeated, weeping bitterly. "It would be a disgrace . . . all over the islands, . . . the only white man on the east coast. No, it cannot be . . . white men finding my daughter with this Malay. My daughter!" he cried aloud, with a ring of despair in his voice. He recovered his composure after a while and said distinctly-- "I will never forgive you, Nina--never! If you were to come back to me now, the memory of this night would poison all my life. I shall try to forget. I have no daughter. There used to be a half-caste woman in my house, but she is going even now. You, Dain, or whatever your name may be, I shall take you and that woman to the island at the mouth of the river myself. Come with me." He led the way, following the bank as far as the forest. Ali answered to his call, and, pushing their way through the dense bush, they stepped into the canoe hidden under the overhanging branches. Dain laid Nina in the bottom, and sat holding her head on his knees. Almayer and Ali each took up a paddle. As they were going to push out Ali hissed warningly. All listened. In the great stillness before the bursting out of the thunderstorm they could hear the sound of oars working regularly in their row-locks. The sound approached steadily, and Dain, looking through the branches, could see the faint shape of a big white boat. A woman's voice said in a cautious tone-- "There is the place where you may land white men; a little higher--there!" The boat was passing them so close in the narrow creek that the blades of the long oars nearly touched the canoe. "Way enough! Stand by to jump on shore! He is alone and unarmed," was the quiet order in a man's voice, and in Dutch. Somebody else whispered: "I think I can see a glimmer of a fire through the bush." And then the boat floated past them, disappearing instantly in the darkness. "Now," whispered Ali, eagerly, "let us push out and paddle away." The little canoe swung into the stream, and as it sprung forward in response to the vigorous dig of the paddles they could hear an angry shout. "He is not by the fire. Spread out, men, and search for him!" Blue lights blazed out in different parts of the clearing, and the shrill voice of a woman cried in accents of rage and pain-- "Too late! O senseless white men! He has escaped!" CHAPTER XII. "That is the place," said Dain, indicating with the blade of his paddle a small islet about a mile ahead of the canoe--"that is the place where Babalatchi promised that a boat from the prau would come for me when the sun is overhead. We will wait for that boat there." Almayer, who was steering, nodded without speaking, and by a slight sweep of his paddle laid the head of the canoe in the required direction. They were just leaving the southern outlet of the Pantai, which lay behind them in a straight and long vista of water shining between two walls of thick verdure that ran downwards and towards each other, till at last they joined and sank together in the far-away distance. The sun, rising above the calm waters of the Straits, marked its own path by a streak of light that glided upon the sea and darted up the wide reach of the river, a hurried messenger of light and life to the gloomy forests of the coast; and in this radiance of the sun's pathway floated the black canoe heading for the islet which lay bathed in sunshine, the yellow sands of its encircling beach shining like an inlaid golden disc on the polished steel of the unwrinkled sea. To the north and south of it rose other islets, joyous in their brilliant colouring of green and yellow, and on the main coast the sombre line of mangrove bushes ended to the southward in the reddish cliffs of Tanjong Mirrah, advancing into the sea, steep and shadowless under the clear, light of the early morning. The bottom of the canoe grated upon the sand as the little craft ran upon the beach. Ali leaped on shore and held on while Dain stepped out carrying Nina in his arms, exhausted by the events and the long travelling during the night. Almayer was the last to leave the boat, and together with Ali ran it higher up on the beach. Then Ali, tired out by the long paddling, laid down in the shade of the canoe, and incontinently fell asleep. Almayer sat sideways on the gunwale, and with his arms crossed on his breast, looked to the southward upon the sea. After carefully laying Nina down in the shade of the bushes growing in the middle of the islet, Dain threw himself beside her and watched in silent concern the tears that ran down from under her closed eyelids, and lost themselves in that fine sand upon which they both were lying face to face. These tears and this sorrow were for him a profound and disquieting mystery. Now, when the danger was past, why should she grieve? He doubted her love no more than he would have doubted the fact of his own existence, but as he lay looking ardently in her face, watching her tears, her parted lips, her very breath, he was uneasily conscious of something in her he could not understand. Doubtless she had the wisdom of perfect beings. He sighed. He felt something invisible that stood between them, something that would let him approach her so far, but no farther. No desire, no longing, no effort of will or length of life could destroy this vague feeling of their difference. With awe but also with great pride he concluded that it was her own incomparable perfection. She was his, and yet she was like a woman from another world. His! His! He exulted in the glorious thought; nevertheless her tears pained him. With a wisp of her own hair which he took in his hand with timid reverence he tried in an access of clumsy tenderness to dry the tears that trembled on her eyelashes. He had his reward in a fleeting smile that brightened her face for the short fraction of a second, but soon the tears fell faster than ever, and he could bear it no more. He rose and walked towards Almayer, who still sat absorbed in his contemplation of the sea. It was a very, very long time since he had seen the sea--that sea that leads everywhere, brings everything, and takes away so much. He had almost forgotten why he was there, and dreamily he could see all his past life on the smooth and boundless surface that glittered before his eyes. Dain's hand laid on Almayer's shoulder recalled him with a start from some country very far away indeed. He turned round, but his eyes seemed to look rather at the place where Dain stood than at the man himself. Dain felt uneasy under the unconscious gaze. "What?" said Almayer. "She is crying," murmured Dain, softly. "She is crying! Why?" asked Almayer, indifferently. "I came to ask you. My Ranee smiles when looking at the man she loves. It is the white woman that is crying now. You would know." Almayer shrugged his shoulders and turned away again towards the sea. "Go, Tuan Putih," urged Dain. "Go to her; her tears are more terrible to me than the anger of gods." "Are they? You will see them more than once. She told me she could not live without you," answered Almayer, speaking without the faintest spark of expression in his face, "so it behoves you to go to her quick, for fear you may find her dead." He burst into a loud and unpleasant laugh which made Dain stare at him with some apprehension, but got off the gunwale of the boat and moved slowly towards Nina, glancing up at the sun as he walked. "And you go when the sun is overhead?" he said. "Yes, Tuan. Then we go," answered Dain. "I have not long to wait," muttered Almayer. "It is most important for me to see you go. Both of you. Most important," he repeated, stopping short and looking at Dain fixedly. He went on again towards Nina, and Dain remained behind. Almayer approached his daughter and stood for a time looking down on her. She did not open her eyes, but hearing footsteps near her, murmured in a low sob, "Dain." Almayer hesitated for a minute and then sank on the sand by her side. She, not hearing a responsive word, not feeling a touch, opened her eyes--saw her father, and sat up suddenly with a movement of terror. "Oh, father!" she murmured faintly, and in that word there was expressed regret and fear and dawning hope. "I shall never forgive you, Nina," said Almayer, in a dispassionate voice. "You have torn my heart from me while I dreamt of your happiness. You have deceived me. Your eyes that for me were like truth itself lied to me in every glance--for how long? You know that best. When you were caressing my cheek you were counting the minutes to the sunset that was the signal for your meeting with that man--there!" He ceased, and they both sat silent side by side, not looking at each other, but gazing at the vast expanse of the sea. Almayer's words had dried Nina's tears, and her look grew hard as she stared before her into the limitless sheet of blue that shone limpid, unwaving, and steady like heaven itself. He looked at it also, but his features had lost all expression, and life in his eyes seemed to have gone out. The face was a blank, without a sign of emotion, feeling, reason, or even knowledge of itself. All passion, regret, grief, hope, or anger--all were gone, erased by the hand of fate, as if after this last stroke everything was over and there was no need for any record. Those few who saw Almayer during the short period of his remaining days were always impressed by the sight of that face that seemed to know nothing of what went on within: like the blank wall of a prison enclosing sin, regrets, and pain, and wasted life, in the cold indifference of mortar and stones. "What is there to forgive?" asked Nina, not addressing Almayer directly, but more as if arguing with herself. "Can I not live my own life as you have lived yours? The path you would have wished me to follow has been closed to me by no fault of mine." "You never told me," muttered Almayer. "You never asked me," she answered, "and I thought you were like the others and did not care. I bore the memory of my humiliation alone, and why should I tell you that it came to me because I am your daughter? I knew you could not avenge me." "And yet I was thinking of that only," interrupted Almayer, "and I wanted to give you years of happiness for the short day of your suffering. I only knew of one way." "Ah! but it was not my way!" she replied. "Could you give me happiness without life? Life!" she repeated with sudden energy that sent the word ringing over the sea. "Life that means power and love," she added in a low voice. "That!" said Almayer, pointing his finger at Dain standing close by and looking at them in curious wonder. "Yes, that!" she replied, looking her father full in the face and noticing for the first time with a slight gasp of fear the unnatural rigidity of his features. "I would have rather strangled you with my own hands," said Almayer, in an expressionless voice which was such a contrast to the desperate bitterness of his feelings that it surprised even himself. He asked himself who spoke, and, after looking slowly round as if expecting to see somebody, turned again his eyes towards the sea. "You say that because you do not understand the meaning of my words," she said sadly. "Between you and my mother there never was any love. When I returned to Sambir I found the place which I thought would be a peaceful refuge for my heart, filled with weariness and hatred--and mutual contempt. I have listened to your voice and to her voice. Then I saw that you could not understand me; for was I not part of that woman? Of her who was the regret and shame of your life? I had to choose--I hesitated. Why were you so blind? Did you not see me struggling before your eyes? But, when he came, all doubt disappeared, and I saw only the light of the blue and cloudless heaven--" "I will tell you the rest," interrupted Almayer: "when that man came I also saw the blue and the sunshine of the sky. A thunderbolt has fallen from that sky, and suddenly all is still and dark around me for ever. I will never forgive you, Nina; and to-morrow I shall forget you! I shall never forgive you," he repeated with mechanical obstinacy while she sat, her head bowed down as if afraid to look at her father. To him it seemed of the utmost importance that he should assure her of his intention of never forgiving. He was convinced that his faith in her had been the foundation of his hopes, the motive of his courage, of his determination to live and struggle, and to be victorious for her sake. And now his faith was gone, destroyed by her own hands; destroyed cruelly, treacherously, in the dark; in the very moment of success. In the utter wreck of his affections and of all his feelings, in the chaotic disorder of his thoughts, above the confused sensation of physical pain that wrapped him up in a sting as of a whiplash curling round him from his shoulders down to his feet, only one idea remained clear and definite--not to forgive her; only one vivid desire--to forget her. And this must be made clear to her--and to himself--by frequent repetition. That was his idea of his duty to himself--to his race--to his respectable connections; to the whole universe unsettled and shaken by this frightful catastrophe of his life. He saw it clearly and believed he was a strong man. He had always prided himself upon his unflinching firmness. And yet he was afraid. She had been all in all to him. What if he should let the memory of his love for her weaken the sense of his dignity? She was a remarkable woman; he could see that; all the latent greatness of his nature--in which he honestly believed--had been transfused into that slight, girlish figure. Great things could be done! What if he should suddenly take her to his heart, forget his shame, and pain, and anger, and--follow her! What if he changed his heart if not his skin and made her life easier between the two loves that would guard her from any mischance! His heart yearned for her. What if he should say that his love for her was greater than . . . "I will never forgive you, Nina!" he shouted, leaping up madly in the sudden fear of his dream. This was the last time in his life that he was heard to raise his voice. Henceforth he spoke always in a monotonous whisper like an instrument of which all the strings but one are broken in a last ringing clamour under a heavy blow. She rose to her feet and looked at him. The very violence of his cry soothed her in an intuitive conviction of his love, and she hugged to her breast the lamentable remnants of that affection with the unscrupulous greediness of women who cling desperately to the very scraps and rags of love, any kind of love, as a thing that of right belongs to them and is the very breath of their life. She put both her hands on Almayer's shoulders, and looking at him half tenderly, half playfully, she said-- "You speak so because you love me." Almayer shook his head. "Yes, you do," she insisted softly; then after a short pause she added, "and you will never forget me." Almayer shivered slightly. She could not have said a more cruel thing. "Here is the boat coming now," said Dain, his arm outstretched towards a black speck on the water between the coast and the islet. They all looked at it and remained standing in silence till the little canoe came gently on the beach and a man landed and walked towards them. He stopped some distance off and hesitated. "What news?" asked Dain. "We have had orders secretly and in the night to take off from this islet a man and a woman. I see the woman. Which of you is the man?" "Come, delight of my eyes," said Dain to Nina. "Now we go, and your voice shall be for my ears only. You have spoken your last words to the Tuan Putih, your father. Come." She hesitated for a while, looking at Almayer, who kept his eyes steadily on the sea, then she touched his forehead in a lingering kiss, and a tear--one of her tears--fell on his cheek and ran down his immovable face. "Goodbye," she whispered, and remained irresolute till he pushed her suddenly into Dain's arms. "If you have any pity for me," murmured Almayer, as if repeating some sentence learned by heart, "take that woman away." He stood very straight, his shoulders thrown back, his head held high, and looked at them as they went down the beach to the canoe, walking enlaced in each other's arms. He looked at the line of their footsteps marked in the sand. He followed their figures moving in the crude blaze of the vertical sun, in that light violent and vibrating, like a triumphal flourish of brazen trumpets. He looked at the man's brown shoulders, at the red sarong round his waist; at the tall, slender, dazzling white figure he supported. He looked at the white dress, at the falling masses of the long black hair. He looked at them embarking, and at the canoe growing smaller in the distance, with rage, despair, and regret in his heart, and on his face a peace as that of a carved image of oblivion. Inwardly he felt himself torn to pieces, but Ali--who now aroused--stood close to his master, saw on his features the blank expression of those who live in that hopeless calm which sightless eyes only can give. The canoe disappeared, and Almayer stood motionless with his eyes fixed on its wake. Ali from under the shade of his hand examined the coast curiously. As the sun declined, the sea-breeze sprang up from the northward and shivered with its breath the glassy surface of the water. "Dapat!" exclaimed Ali, joyously. "Got him, master! Got prau! Not there! Look more Tanah Mirrah side. Aha! That way! Master, see? Now plain. See?" Almayer followed Ali's forefinger with his eyes for a long time in vain. At last he sighted a triangular patch of yellow light on the red background of the cliffs of Tanjong Mirrah. It was the sail of the prau that had caught the sunlight and stood out, distinct with its gay tint, on the dark red of the cape. The yellow triangle crept slowly from cliff to cliff, till it cleared the last point of land and shone brilliantly for a fleeting minute on the blue of the open sea. Then the prau bore up to the southward: the light went out of the sail, and all at once the vessel itself disappeared, vanishing in the shadow of the steep headland that looked on, patient and lonely, watching over the empty sea. Almayer never moved. Round the little islet the air was full of the talk of the rippling water. The crested wavelets ran up the beach audaciously, joyously, with the lightness of young life, and died quickly, unresistingly, and graciously, in the wide curves of transparent foam on the yellow sand. Above, the white clouds sailed rapidly southwards as if intent upon overtaking something. Ali seemed anxious. "Master," he said timidly, "time to get house now. Long way off to pull. All ready, sir." "Wait," whispered Almayer. Now she was gone his business was to forget, and he had a strange notion that it should be done systematically and in order. To Ali's great dismay he fell on his hands and knees, and, creeping along the sand, erased carefully with his hand all traces of Nina's footsteps. He piled up small heaps of sand, leaving behind him a line of miniature graves right down to the water. After burying the last slight imprint of Nina's slipper he stood up, and, turning his face towards the headland where he had last seen the prau, he made an effort to shout out loud again his firm resolve to never forgive. Ali watching him uneasily saw only his lips move, but heard no sound. He brought his foot down with a stamp. He was a firm man--firm as a rock. Let her go. He never had a daughter. He would forget. He was forgetting already. Ali approached him again, insisting on immediate departure, and this time he consented, and they went together towards their canoe, Almayer leading. For all his firmness he looked very dejected and feeble as he dragged his feet slowly through the sand on the beach; and by his side--invisible to Ali--stalked that particular fiend whose mission it is to jog the memories of men, lest they should forget the meaning of life. He whispered into Almayer's ear a childish prattle of many years ago. Almayer, his head bent on one side, seemed to listen to his invisible companion, but his face was like the face of a man that has died struck from behind--a face from which all feelings and all expression are suddenly wiped off by the hand of unexpected death. * * * * * They slept on the river that night, mooring their canoe under the bushes and lying down in the bottom side by side, in the absolute exhaustion that kills hunger, thirst, all feeling and all thought in the overpowering desire for that deep sleep which is like the temporary annihilation of the tired body. Next day they started again and fought doggedly with the current all the morning, till about midday they reached the settlement and made fast their little craft to the jetty of Lingard and Co. Almayer walked straight to the house, and Ali followed, paddles on shoulder, thinking that he would like to eat something. As they crossed the front courtyard they noticed the abandoned look of the place. Ali looked in at the different servants' houses: all were empty. In the back courtyard there was the same absence of sound and life. In the cooking-shed the fire was out and the black embers were cold. A tall, lean man came stealthily out of the banana plantation, and went away rapidly across the open space looking at them with big, frightened eyes over his shoulder. Some vagabond without a master; there were many such in the settlement, and they looked upon Almayer as their patron. They prowled about his premises and picked their living there, sure that nothing worse could befall them than a shower of curses when they got in the way of the white man, whom they trusted and liked, and called a fool amongst themselves. In the house, which Almayer entered through the back verandah, the only living thing that met his eyes was his small monkey which, hungry and unnoticed for the last two days, began to cry and complain in monkey language as soon as it caught sight of the familiar face. Almayer soothed it with a few words and ordered Ali to bring in some bananas, then while Ali was gone to get them he stood in the doorway of the front verandah looking at the chaos of overturned furniture. Finally he picked up the table and sat on it while the monkey let itself down from the roof-stick by its chain and perched on his shoulder. When the bananas came they had their breakfast together; both hungry, both eating greedily and showering the skins round them recklessly, in the trusting silence of perfect friendship. Ali went away, grumbling, to cook some rice himself, for all the women about the house had disappeared; he did not know where. Almayer did not seem to care, and, after he finished eating, he sat on the table swinging his legs and staring at the river as if lost in thought. After some time he got up and went to the door of a room on the right of the verandah. That was the office. The office of Lingard and Co. He very seldom went in there. There was no business now, and he did not want an office. The door was locked, and he stood biting his lower lip, trying to think of the place where the key could be. Suddenly he remembered: in the women's room hung upon a nail. He went over to the doorway where the red curtain hung down in motionless folds, and hesitated for a moment before pushing it aside with his shoulder as if breaking down some solid obstacle. A great square of sunshine entering through the window lay on the floor. On the left he saw Mrs. Almayer's big wooden chest, the lid thrown back, empty; near it the brass nails of Nina's European trunk shone in the large initials N. A. on the cover. A few of Nina's dresses hung on wooden pegs, stiffened in a look of offended dignity at their abandonment. He remembered making the pegs himself and noticed that they were very good pegs. Where was the key? He looked round and saw it near the door where he stood. It was red with rust. He felt very much annoyed at that, and directly afterwards wondered at his own feeling. What did it matter? There soon would be no key--no door--nothing! He paused, key in hand, and asked himself whether he knew well what he was about. He went out again on the verandah and stood by the table thinking. The monkey jumped down, and, snatching a banana skin, absorbed itself in picking it to shreds industriously. "Forget!" muttered Almayer, and that word started before him a sequence of events, a detailed programme of things to do. He knew perfectly well what was to be done now. First this, then that, and then forgetfulness would come easy. Very easy. He had a fixed idea that if he should not forget before he died he would have to remember to all eternity. Certain things had to be taken out of his life, stamped out of sight, destroyed, forgotten. For a long time he stood in deep thought, lost in the alarming possibilities of unconquerable memory, with the fear of death and eternity before him. "Eternity!" he said aloud, and the sound of that word recalled him out of his reverie. The monkey started, dropped the skin, and grinned up at him amicably. He went towards the office door and with some difficulty managed to open it. He entered in a cloud of dust that rose under his feet. Books open with torn pages bestrewed the floor; other books lay about grimy and black, looking as if they had never been opened. Account books. In those books he had intended to keep day by day a record of his rising fortunes. Long time ago. A very long time. For many years there has been no record to keep on the blue and red ruled pages! In the middle of the room the big office desk, with one of its legs broken, careened over like the hull of a stranded ship; most of the drawers had fallen out, disclosing heaps of paper yellow with age and dirt. The revolving office chair stood in its place, but he found the pivot set fast when he tried to turn it. No matter. He desisted, and his eyes wandered slowly from object to object. All those things had cost a lot of money at the time. The desk, the paper, the torn books, and the broken shelves, all under a thick coat of dust. The very dust and bones of a dead and gone business. He looked at all these things, all that was left after so many years of work, of strife, of weariness, of discouragement, conquered so many times. And all for what? He stood thinking mournfully of his past life till he heard distinctly the clear voice of a child speaking amongst all this wreck, ruin, and waste. He started with a great fear in his heart, and feverishly began to rake in the papers scattered on the floor, broke the chair into bits, splintered the drawers by banging them against the desk, and made a big heap of all that rubbish in one corner of the room. He came out quickly, slammed the door after him, turned the key, and, taking it out, ran to the front rail of the verandah, and, with a great swing of his arm, sent the key whizzing into the river. This done he went back slowly to the table, called the monkey down, unhooked its chain, and induced it to remain quiet in the breast of his jacket. Then he sat again on the table and looked fixedly at the door of the room he had just left. He listened also intently. He heard a dry sound of rustling; sharp cracks as of dry wood snapping; a whirr like of a bird's wings when it rises suddenly, and then he saw a thin stream of smoke come through the keyhole. The monkey struggled under his coat. Ali appeared with his eyes starting out of his head. "Master! House burn!" he shouted. Almayer stood up holding by the table. He could hear the yells of alarm and surprise in the settlement. Ali wrung his hands, lamenting aloud. "Stop this noise, fool!" said Almayer, quietly. "Pick up my hammock and blankets and take them to the other house. Quick, now!" The smoke burst through the crevices of the door, and Ali, with the hammock in his arms, cleared in one bound the steps of the verandah. "It has caught well," muttered Almayer to himself. "Be quiet, Jack," he added, as the monkey made a frantic effort to escape from its confinement. The door split from top to bottom, and a rush of flame and smoke drove Almayer away from the table to the front rail of the verandah. He held on there till a great roar overhead assured him that the roof was ablaze. Then he ran down the steps of the verandah, coughing, half choked with the smoke that pursued him in bluish wreaths curling about his head. On the other side of the ditch, separating Almayer's courtyard from the settlement, a crowd of the inhabitants of Sambir looked at the burning house of the white man. In the calm air the flames rushed up on high, coloured pale brick-red, with violet gleams in the strong sunshine. The thin column of smoke ascended straight and unwavering till it lost itself in the clear blue of the sky, and, in the great empty space between the two houses the interested spectators could see the tall figure of the Tuan Putih, with bowed head and dragging feet, walking slowly away from the fire towards the shelter of "Almayer's Folly." In that manner did Almayer move into his new house. He took possession of the new ruin, and in the undying folly of his heart set himself to wait in anxiety and pain for that forgetfulness which was so slow to come. He had done all he could. Every vestige of Nina's existence had been destroyed; and now with every sunrise he asked himself whether the longed-for oblivion would come before sunset, whether it would come before he died? He wanted to live only long enough to be able to forget, and the tenacity of his memory filled him with dread and horror of death; for should it come before he could accomplish the purpose of his life he would have to remember for ever! He also longed for loneliness. He wanted to be alone. But he was not. In the dim light of the rooms with their closed shutters, in the bright sunshine of the verandah, wherever he went, whichever way he turned, he saw the small figure of a little maiden with pretty olive face, with long black hair, her little pink robe slipping off her shoulders, her big eyes looking up at him in the tender trustfulness of a petted child. Ali did not see anything, but he also was aware of the presence of a child in the house. In his long talks by the evening fires of the settlement he used to tell his intimate friends of Almayer's strange doings. His master had turned sorcerer in his old age. Ali said that often when Tuan Putih had retired for the night he could hear him talking to something in his room. Ali thought that it was a spirit in the shape of a child. He knew his master spoke to a child from certain expressions and words his master used. His master spoke in Malay a little, but mostly in English, which he, Ali, could understand. Master spoke to the child at times tenderly, then he would weep over it, laugh at it, scold it, beg of it to go away; curse it. It was a bad and stubborn spirit. Ali thought his master had imprudently called it up, and now could not get rid of it. His master was very brave; he was not afraid to curse this spirit in the very Presence; and once he fought with it. Ali had heard a great noise as of running about inside the room and groans. His master groaned. Spirits do not groan. His master was brave, but foolish. You cannot hurt a spirit. Ali expected to find his master dead next morning, but he came out very early, looking much older than the day before, and had no food all day. So far Ali to the settlement. To Captain Ford he was much more communicative, for the good reason that Captain Ford had the purse and gave orders. On each of Ford's monthly visits to Sambir Ali had to go on board with a report about the inhabitant of "Almayer's Folly." On his first visit to Sambir, after Nina's departure, Ford had taken charge of Almayer's affairs. They were not cumbersome. The shed for the storage of goods was empty, the boats had disappeared, appropriated--generally in night-time--by various citizens of Sambir in need of means of transport. During a great flood the jetty of Lingard and Co. left the bank and floated down the river, probably in search of more cheerful surroundings; even the flock of geese--"the only geese on the east coast"--departed somewhere, preferring the unknown dangers of the bush to the desolation of their old home. As time went on the grass grew over the black patch of ground where the old house used to stand, and nothing remained to mark the place of the dwelling that had sheltered Almayer's young hopes, his foolish dream of splendid future, his awakening, and his despair. Ford did not often visit Almayer, for visiting Almayer was not a pleasant task. At first he used to respond listlessly to the old seaman's boisterous inquiries about his health; he even made efforts to talk, asking for news in a voice that made it perfectly clear that no news from this world had any interest for him. Then gradually he became more silent--not sulkily--but as if he was forgetting how to speak. He used also to hide in the darkest rooms of the house, where Ford had to seek him out guided by the patter of the monkey galloping before him. The monkey was always there to receive and introduce Ford. The little animal seemed to have taken complete charge of its master, and whenever it wished for his presence on the verandah it would tug perseveringly at his jacket, till Almayer obediently came out into the sunshine, which he seemed to dislike so much. One morning Ford found him sitting on the floor of the verandah, his back against the wall, his legs stretched stiffly out, his arms hanging by his side. His expressionless face, his eyes open wide with immobile pupils, and the rigidity of his pose, made him look like an immense man-doll broken and flung there out of the way. As Ford came up the steps he turned his head slowly. "Ford," he murmured from the floor, "I cannot forget." "Can't you?" said Ford, innocently, with an attempt at joviality: "I wish I was like you. I am losing my memory--age, I suppose; only the other day my mate--" He stopped, for Almayer had got up, stumbled, and steadied himself on his friend's arm. "Hallo! You are better to-day. Soon be all right," said Ford, cheerfully, but feeling rather scared. Almayer let go his arm and stood very straight with his head up and shoulders thrown back, looking stonily at the multitude of suns shining in ripples of the river. His jacket and his loose trousers flapped in the breeze on his thin limbs. "Let her go!" he whispered in a grating voice. "Let her go. To-morrow I shall forget. I am a firm man, . . . firm as a . . . rock, . . . firm . . ." Ford looked at his face--and fled. The skipper was a tolerably firm man himself--as those who had sailed with him could testify--but Almayer's firmness was altogether too much for his fortitude. Next time the steamer called in Sambir Ali came on board early with a grievance. He complained to Ford that Jim-Eng the Chinaman had invaded Almayer's house, and actually had lived there for the last month. "And they both smoke," added Ali. "Phew! Opium, you mean?" Ali nodded, and Ford remained thoughtful; then he muttered to himself, "Poor devil! The sooner the better now." In the afternoon he walked up to the house. "What are you doing here?" he asked of Jim-Eng, whom he found strolling about on the verandah. Jim-Eng explained in bad Malay, and speaking in that monotonous, uninterested voice of an opium smoker pretty far gone, that his house was old, the roof leaked, and the floor was rotten. So, being an old friend for many, many years, he took his money, his opium, and two pipes, and came to live in this big house. "There is plenty of room. He smokes, and I live here. He will not smoke long," he concluded. "Where is he now?" asked Ford. "Inside. He sleeps," answered Jim-Eng, wearily. Ford glanced in through the doorway. In the dim light of the room he could see Almayer lying on his back on the floor, his head on a wooden pillow, the long white beard scattered over his breast, the yellow skin of the face, the half-closed eyelids showing the whites of the eye only. . . . He shuddered and turned away. As he was leaving he noticed a long strip of faded red silk, with some Chinese letters on it, which Jim-Eng had just fastened to one of the pillars. "What's that?" he asked. "That," said Jim-Eng, in his colourless voice, "that is the name of the house. All the same like my house. Very good name." Ford looked at him for awhile and went away. He did not know what the crazy-looking maze of the Chinese inscription on the red silk meant. Had he asked Jim-Eng, that patient Chinaman would have informed him with proper pride that its meaning was: "House of heavenly delight." In the evening of the same day Babalatchi called on Captain Ford. The captain's cabin opened on deck, and Babalatchi sat astride on the high step, while Ford smoked his pipe on the settee inside. The steamer was leaving next morning, and the old statesman came as usual for a last chat. "We had news from Bali last moon," remarked Babalatchi. "A grandson is born to the old Rajah, and there is great rejoicing." Ford sat up interested. "Yes," went on Babalatchi, in answer to Ford's look. "I told him. That was before he began to smoke." "Well, and what?" asked Ford. "I escaped with my life," said Babalatchi, with perfect gravity, "because the white man is very weak and fell as he rushed upon me." Then, after a pause, he added, "She is mad with joy." "Mrs. Almayer, you mean?" "Yes, she lives in our Rajah's house. She will not die soon. Such women live a long time," said Babalatchi, with a slight tinge of regret in his voice. "She has dollars, and she has buried them, but we know where. We had much trouble with those people. We had to pay a fine and listen to threats from the white men, and now we have to be careful." He sighed and remained silent for a long while. Then with energy: "There will be fighting. There is a breath of war on the islands. Shall I live long enough to see? . . . Ah, Tuan!" he went on, more quietly, "the old times were best. Even I have sailed with Lanun men, and boarded in the night silent ships with white sails. That was before an English Rajah ruled in Kuching. Then we fought amongst ourselves and were happy. Now when we fight with you we can only die!" He rose to go. "Tuan," he said, "you remember the girl that man Bulangi had? Her that caused all the trouble?" "Yes," said Ford. "What of her?" "She grew thin and could not work. Then Bulangi, who is a thief and a pig-eater, gave her to me for fifty dollars. I sent her amongst my women to grow fat. I wanted to hear the sound of her laughter, but she must have been bewitched, and . . . she died two days ago. Nay, Tuan. Why do you speak bad words? I am old--that is true--but why should I not like the sight of a young face and the sound of a young voice in my house?" He paused, and then added with a little mournful laugh, "I am like a white man talking too much of what is not men's talk when they speak to one another." And he went off looking very sad. * * * * * The crowd massed in a semicircle before the steps of "Almayer's Folly," swayed silently backwards and forwards, and opened out before the group of white-robed and turbaned men advancing through the grass towards the house. Abdulla walked first, supported by Reshid and followed by all the Arabs in Sambir. As they entered the lane made by the respectful throng there was a subdued murmur of voices, where the word "Mati" was the only one distinctly audible. Abdulla stopped and looked round slowly. "Is he dead?" he asked. "May you live!" answered the crowd in one shout, and then there succeeded a breathless silence. Abdulla made a few paces forward and found himself for the last time face to face with his old enemy. Whatever he might have been once he was not dangerous now, lying stiff and lifeless in the tender light of the early day. The only white man on the east coast was dead, and his soul, delivered from the trammels of his earthly folly, stood now in the presence of Infinite Wisdom. On the upturned face there was that serene look which follows the sudden relief from anguish and pain, and it testified silently before the cloudless heaven that the man lying there under the gaze of indifferent eyes had been permitted to forget before he died. Abdulla looked down sadly at this Infidel he had fought so long and had bested so many times. Such was the reward of the Faithful! Yet in the Arab's old heart there was a feeling of regret for that thing gone out of his life. He was leaving fast behind him friendships, and enmities, successes, and disappointments--all that makes up a life; and before him was only the end. Prayer would fill up the remainder of the days allotted to the True Believer! He took in his hand the beads that hung at his waist. "I found him here, like this, in the morning," said Ali, in a low and awed voice. Abdulla glanced coldly once more at the serene face. "Let us go," he said, addressing Reshid. And as they passed through the crowd that fell back before them, the beads in Abdulla's hand clicked, while in a solemn whisper he breathed out piously the name of Allah! The Merciful! The Compassionate! 
22903	----	produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Print project.) THE EXPEDITION TO BORNEO OF H. M. S. DIDO FOR THE SUPPRESSION OF PIRACY: WITH EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNAL OF JAMES BROOKE, ESQ., OF SARAWAK, (Now Agent for the British Government in Borneo). BY CAPTAIN THE HON. HENRY KEPPEL, R. N. NEW YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 82 CLIFF STREET. 1846. TO THE EARL OF ALBEMARLE. My dear Father, You could scarcely have anticipated, from my profession, the dedication of a book in testimony of my gratitude and affection; but, having had the good fortune to acquire the friendship of Mr. James Brooke, and to be intrusted by him with a narrative of his extraordinary career in that part of the world where the services of the ship I commanded were required, I am not without a hope that the accompanying pages may be found worthy of your approval, and not altogether uninteresting to my country. I am, my dear father, Your affectionate son, Henry Keppel. Droxford, January, 1846. PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. The visit of her majesty's ship Dido to Borneo, and her services against the pirates, occupy comparatively so small a portion of this volume, that some excuse may be necessary for its leading title. It was only by undertaking to make the account of them part of the narrative, that I could prevail upon my friend Mr. Brooke to intrust me with his Journal for any public object; and when I looked at his novel and important position as a ruler in Borneo, and was aware how much of European curiosity was attached to it, I felt it impossible not to consent to an arrangement which should enable me to trace the remarkable career through which he had reached that elevation. I hope, therefore, to be considered as having conquered my own disinclination to be the relater of events in which I was concerned, in order to overcome the scruples which he entertained against being the author of the autobiographical sketch, embracing so singular a portion of his life, which I have extracted from the rough notes confided to me. That his diffidence in this respect was groundless will, I trust, be apparent from these pages, however indifferently I may have executed my unusual task, during a long homeward sea-voyage; and, from the growing interest which has arisen throughout the country for intelligence on the subject of Borneo and the adjacent archipelago, I venture also to indulge the belief that the general information will be deemed no unfit adjunct to the story of personal adventure. ADVERTISEMENT TO THE SECOND EDITION. The text of this edition has been carefully revised, and has undergone numerous verbal alterations; some portions of it have been transposed, and a few additions have been made to the work. [In the American edition, a few pages of matter, of no interest to American readers, have been omitted from the Appendix.] CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The Chinese War having terminated, Captain Keppel in H.M.S. Dido appointed to command of the Straits station.--Meeting with Mr. Brooke.--Sketch of his life.--Mr. Brooke's outward voyage in the Royalist.--Touch at Singapore.--Arrival off the coast of Borneo.--Land at the island of Talang Talang.--Intercourse with the Bandar _Page_ 1 CHAPTER II. Progress: observations.--Description of the coast of Borneo.--Account, &c. of a Pangeran.--Arrival at Sarawak.--Meetings with Rajah Muda Hassim, and conversations.--The Town.--Interchange of visits and presents.--Excursion to Dyak tribes.--Resources and commercial products 14 CHAPTER III. Second Cruise: up the River Lunda.--The Sibnowan Dyaks.--Their Town of Tungong.--Their Physical Proportions, and Words of their Language.--Their Customs.--Skull-trophies.--Religious Ceremonies and Opinions.--Their Ornaments.--Appearance of both Sexes.--Dress and Morals.--Missionary Prospects of Conversion, and Elevation in the Social Scale.--Government, Laws, and Punishments.--Dances.--Iron Manufacturing.--Chinese Settlement.--Excursion continued 32 CHAPTER IV. Renewed intercourse with the Rajah.--Prospects of trade.--Ourang-outang, and other animals.--The two sorts of mias.--Description of the Rajah, his suite, and Panglimas, &c.--The character of the natives.--Leave Sarawak.--Songi Dyaks.--Visit Seriff Sahib.--Buyat tongue.--Attack by pirates.--Sail for Singapore 45 CHAPTER V. Summary of information obtained during this visit to Borneo.--Geographical and topographical observations.--Produce.--Various Dyak tribes.--Natural history.--Language.--Origin of Races.--Sail from Singapore.--Celebes.--Face of the country.--Waterfall 59 CHAPTER VI. Dain Matara, the Bugis.--Excursions in Celebes.--Dispute with the Rajah's son-in-law.--Baboon shot.--Appearance of the country.--Visit the Resident.--Barometrical observations.--The Bugis.--Geography.--Coral reefs.--Visit the Rana of Lamatte.--Population and products of the country 72 CHAPTER VII. Mr. Brooke's second visit to Sarawak.--The civil war.--Receives a present of a Dyak boy.--Excursion to the seat of war.--Notices of rivers, and settlements on their banks.--Deaths and burials.--Reasons for and against remaining at Sarawak.--Dyak visitors.--Council of war.--Why side with the Rajah.--Mode of constructing forts.--State of enemy's and Rajah's forces.--Conduct of the war 87 CHAPTER VIII. Appearance of the country.--Progress of the rebel war.--Character of the Sow and Singè Dyaks.--Their belief in augury.--Ruinous effects of protracted warfare.--Cowardice and boasting of the Malays.--Council of war.--Refuse to attack the enemy's forts.--Rebels propose to treat.--The Malays oppose.--Set out to attack the rebels, but frustrated by our allies.--Assailed by the rebels.--Put them to flight.--Treat with them.--They surrender.--Intercede with the Rajah for their lives.--Renewed treachery of the Malays 100 CHAPTER IX. Retrospect of Mr. Brooke's proceedings and prospects.--Visit of a pirate fleet.--Intercourse with the chief leaders, and other characteristic incidents.--War dances.--Use of opium.--Story of Si Tundo.--Preparations for trading.--Conditions of the cession of Sarawak 119 CHAPTER X. Obstacles in the way of coming to a satisfactory conclusion with Muda Hassim.--The law of force and reprisal considered.--Capabilities of Sarawak.--Account of Sarebus and Sakarran pirates.--Excursion up the river.--Visit to the Singè Dyaks.--Description of Mr. Brooke's house at Sarawak.--Circumstances relating to the wreck off Borneo Proper 135 CHAPTER XI. Return of the Royalist from Borneo Proper with intelligence of the sufferers from the wreck of the Sultana.--Effect of the arrival of the Diana on the negotiations for their release.--Outrage and oppression of Macota.--Fate of the Sultana and her crew.--Mr. Brooke made Rajah of Sarawak.--Liberation of rebel prisoners.--State of Dyak tribes.--Court of justice opened.--Dyak burials, and respect for the dead.--Malay cunning and treachery 151 CHAPTER XII. Reflections on the new year.--The plundered village, and other wrongs.--Means for their suppression.--The new government proceeds to act.--The constitution.--Preparations for an expedition against the Sea Dyaks.--Form of a treaty.--Wreck of the Viscount Melbourne.--Administration of justice.--Difficulties and dangers.--Dyak troubles.--Views and arrangements of the Chinese.--Judicial forms.--Wrongs and sufferings of the Lundus 164 CHAPTER XIII. Ascent of the left-hand river to the Stabad.--Remarkable cave in the Tubbang.--Diamond works at Suntah.--Return.--Infested by Dyak pirates.--A meeting of prahus, and fight.--Seriff Sahib's treatment of the Suntah Dyaks.--Expedition against the Singè.--Their invasion of the Sigos, and taking heads.--The triumph over these trophies.--Arms and modes of war.--Hot and cold council-houses.--Ceremonies in the installation of the Orang Kaya Steer Rajah.--Meeting of various Dyak tribes.--Hostile plans of Seriff Sahib, and their issue.--Resolves to proceed to Borneo Proper 183 CHAPTER XIV. Visit of Captain Elliott.--Mr. Brooke sails for Borneo Proper.--Arrival.--Visited by leading men.--Condition of the country.--Reception by the Sultan.--Objects in view.--The different chiefs, and communications with them.--The Sultan and his Pangerans.--Objects of the visit accomplished.--Return to Sarawak.--Ceremonies of the cession.--Sail for Singapore 199 CHAPTER XV. Captain Keppel's voyage in the Dido with Mr. Brooke to Sarawak.--Chase of three piratical prahus.--Boat expedition.--Action with the pirates, and capture of a prahu.--Arrival at Sarawak.--Mr. Brooke's reception.--Captain Keppel and his officers visit the Rajah.--The palace and the audience.--Return royal visit to the Dido.--Mr. Brooke's residence and household.--Dr. Treacher's adventure with one of the ladies of Macota's harem.--Another boat affair with the pirates, and death of their chief 213 CHAPTER XVI. The Rajah's letter to Captain Keppel, and his reply.--Prepares for an expedition against the Sarebus pirates.--Pleasure excursion up the river.--The Chinese settlement.--The Singè mountain.--Interior of the residences.--Dyak festival of Maugut.--Relics.--Sporting.--Return to Sarawak.--The expedition against Sarebus.--State and number of the assailing force.--Ascent of the river.--Beauty of the scenery 228 CHAPTER XVII. Ascent of the river to Paddi.--Town taken and burnt.--Narrow escape of a reinforcement of friendly Dyaks.--Night-attack by the pirates.--Conference: they submit.--Proceed against Pakoo.--Dyak treatment of dead enemies.--Destruction of Pakoo, and submission of the pirates.--Advance upon Rembas.--The town destroyed: the inhabitants yield.--Satisfactory effects of the expedition.--Death of Dr. Simpson.--Triumphant return to Sarawak 242 CHAPTER XVIII. Captain Keppel sails for China.--Calcutta.--The Dido ordered to Borneo again.--Arrival at Sarawak.--Effect of her presence at Sarawak.--Great improvements visible.--Atrocities of the Sakarran pirates.--Mr. Brooke's letter.--Captain Sir E. Belcher's previous visit to Sarawak in the Samarang.--Coal found.--Second letter from the Rajah Muda Hassim.--Expedition against the Sakarran pirates.--Patusen destroyed.--Macota remembered, and his retreat burnt.--Further fighting, and advance.--Ludicrous midnight alarm 257 CHAPTER XIX. Seriff Muller's town sacked.--Ascend the river in pursuit of the enemy.--Gallant exploit of Lieutenant Wade.--His death and funeral.--Interesting anecdote of him.--Ascend the Sakarran branch.--Native boats hemmed in by pirates, and their crews slaughtered to a man.--Karangan destroyed.--Captain Sir E. Belcher arrives in the Samarang's boats.--Return to Sarawak.--New expedition against Seriff Sahib and Jaffer.--Macota captured.--Flight of Seriff Sahib.--Conferences.--Seriff Jaffer deposed.--Mr. Brooke's speech in the native tongue.--End of the expedition, and return to Sarawak.--The Dido sails for England 274 CHAPTER XX. Later portion of Mr. Brooke's Journal.--Departure of Captain Keppel, and arrival of Sir E. Belcher.--Mr. Brooke proceeds, with Muda Hassim, in the Samarang to Borneo.--Labuan examined.--Returns to Sarawak.--Visit of Lingire, a Sarebus chief.--The Dyaks of Tumma and Bandar Cassim.--Meets an assembly of Malays and Dyaks.--Arrival of Lingi, as a deputation from the Sakarran chiefs.--The Malay character.--Excursion up the country.--Miserable effects of excess in opium-smoking.--Picturesque situation of the Sow village of Ra-at.--Nawang.--Feast at Ra-at.--Returns home.--Conferences with Dyak chiefs 290 CHAPTER XXI. Mr. Brooke's memorandum on the piracy of the Malayan Archipelago.--The measures requisite for its suppression, and for the consequent extension of British commerce in that important locality 302 CHAPTER XXII. Arrival of Captain Bethune and Mr. Wise.--Mr. Brooke appointed her Majesty's Agent in Borneo.--Sails for Borneo Proper.--Muda Hassim's measures for the suppression of piracy.--Defied by Seriff Houseman.--Audience of the Sultan, Muda Hassim, and the Pangerans.--Visit to Labuan.--Comparative eligibility of Labuan and Balambangan for settlement.--Coal discovered in Labuan.--Mr. Brooke goes to Singapore and visits Admiral Sir T. Cochrane.--The upas-tree.--Proceeds with the Admiral to Borneo Proper.--Punishment of Pangeran Usop.--The battle of Malludu.--Seriff Houseman obliged to fly.--Visit to Balambangan.--Mr. Brooke parts with the Admiral, and goes to Borneo Proper.--An attempt of Pangeran Usop defeated.--His flight, and pursuit by Pangeran Budrudeen.--Triumphant reception of Mr. Brooke in Borneo.--Returns to Sarawak 314 CHAPTER XXIII. Borneo, its geographical bounds and leading divisions.--British settlements in 1775.--The province of Sarawak formally ceded by the sultan in perpetuity to Mr. Brooke its present ruler.--General view of the Dyaks, the aborigines of Borneo.--The Dyaks of Sarawak, and adjoining tribes; their past oppression and present position 329 CHAPTER XXIV. Proposed British settlement on the northwest coast of Borneo, and occupation of the island of Labuan.--Governor Crawfurd's opinions thereon 345 Concluding Observations 355 Postscript to Second Edition 359 APPENDIX. I. Natural History. Mr. Brooke's report on the Mias 365 II. Philology 370 III. Proposed Exploring Expedition to the Asiatic Archipelago, by James Brooke, Esq. 1838 373 IV. Sketch of Borneo, or Pulo Kalamantan, by J. Hunt, Esq. 381 V. Extracts from the late Mr. Williamson's Journal 409 EXPEDITION TO BORNEO. CHAPTER I. The Chinese War having terminated, Captain Keppel in H.M.S. Dido appointed to command of the Straits station.--Meeting with Mr. Brooke.--Sketch of his life.--Mr. Brooke's outward voyage in the Royalist.--Touch at Singapore.--Arrival off the coast of Borneo.--Land at the island of Talang Talang.--Intercourse with the Bandar. At the conclusion of the Chinese war, the commander-in-chief, Vice-Admiral Sir William Parker, ordered the Dido to the Malacca Straits, a station in which was included the island of Borneo; our principal duties being the protection of trade, and suppression of piracy. In the month of March, 1843, while at Pinang, I received intimation from the governor of various daring acts of piracy having been committed near the Borneon coast on some vessels trading to Singapore. I proceeded to that port; and, while undergoing a partial refit, made the acquaintance of Mr. Brooke, who accepted my invitation to return to Sarawak in the Dido; and I could not have visited Borneo with a more agreeable or intelligent companion. The objects of Mr. Brooke in leaving England, the reasons which induced him to settle at Sarawak, and the circumstances which have led him to take so deep an interest in promoting the civilization and improving the condition of the singular people whom he has adopted, form indeed a story very unlike the common course of events in modern times. But before illustrating these circumstances from his own journals, it may be acceptable to say a few words respecting the individual himself, and his extraordinary career. I am indebted to a mutual friend, acquainted with him from early years, for the following brief but interesting outline of his life; and have only to premise, that Mr. Brooke is the lineal representative of Sir Robert Vyner, baronet, and lord mayor of London in the reign of Charles II.; Sir Robert had but one child, a son, Sir George Vyner, who died childless, and his estate passed to his heir-at-law, Edith, his father's eldest sister, whose lineal descendant is our friend. Sir Robert was renowned for his loyalty to his sovereign, to whom he devoted his wealth, and to whose memory he raised a monument. "Mr. Brooke was the second, and is now the only surviving son of the late Thomas Brooke, Esq., of the civil service of the East India Company; was born on the 29th April, 1803; went out to India as a cadet, where he held advantageous situations, and distinguished himself by his gallantry in the Burmese war. He was shot through the body in an action with the Burmese, received the thanks of the government, and returned to England for the recovery of his prostrated strength. He resumed his station, but shortly afterward relinquished the service, and in search of health and amusement left Calcutta for China in 1830. In this voyage, while going up the China seas, he saw for the first time the islands of the Asiatic Archipelago--islands of vast importance and unparalleled beauty--lying neglected, and almost unknown. He inquired and read, and became convinced that Borneo and the Eastern Isles afforded an open field for enterprise and research. To carry to the Malay races, so long the terror of the European merchant-vessels, the blessings of civilization, to suppress piracy, and extirpate the slave-trade, became his humane and generous objects; and from that hour the energies of his powerful mind were devoted to this one pursuit. Often foiled, often disappointed, but animated with a perseverance and enthusiasm which defied all obstacle, he was not until 1838 enabled to set sail from England on his darling project. The intervening years had been devoted to preparation and inquiry; a year spent in the Mediterranean had tested his vessel, the Royalist, and his crew; and so completely had he studied his subject and calculated on contingencies, that the least sanguine of his friends felt as he left the shore, hazardous and unusual as the enterprise appeared to be, that he had omitted nothing to insure a successful issue. 'I go,' said he, 'to awake the spirit of slumbering philanthropy with regard to these islands; to carry Sir Stamford Raffles' views in Java over the whole archipelago. Fortune and life I give freely; and if I fail in the attempt, I shall not have lived wholly in vain.' "In the admiration I feel for him, I may farther be permitted to add, that if any man ever possessed in himself the resources and means by which such noble designs were to be achieved, that man was James Brooke! Of the most enlarged views; truthful and generous; quick to acquire and appreciate; excelling in every manly sport and exercise; elegant and accomplished; ever accessible; and above all, prompt and determined to redress injury and relieve misfortune, he was of all others the best qualified to impress the native mind with the highest opinion of the English character. How he has succeeded, the influence he has acquired, and the benefits he has conferred, his own uncolored narrative, contained in the following pages, best declares, and impresses on the world a lasting lesson of the good that attends individual enterprise, when well directed, of which every Englishman may feel justly proud." Such is the sketch of Mr. Brooke by one well competent to judge of that to which he bears witness. In pursuance of the mission thus eloquently and truly described, that gentleman left his native shores in the year 1838, in his yacht the Royalist schooner, of 142 tons, belonging to the Royal Yacht Squadron, with a crew of upward of twenty men. His general views were distinct and certain; but the details into which they shaped themselves have been so entirely guided by unforeseen occurrences, that it is necessary to look to his first visit to Borneo for their explanation; and in order to do so, I must refer to his private journal, which he kindly confided to me, after I had in vain tried to persuade him to take upon himself the publication of its contents, so rich in new and interesting intelligence. EXTRACTS FROM Mr. BROOKE'S JOURNAL. "I had for some years turned my mind to the geography of the Indian Archipelago, and cherished an ardent desire to become better acquainted with a country combining the richest natural productions with an unrivaled degree of luxuriant beauty. Circumstances for a time prevented my entering on this field for enterprise and research; and when the barriers were removed, I had many preparations to make and some difficulties to overcome. "In an expedition conducted by government, the line of discipline is so distinctly understood, and its infringement so strictly punished, that small hazard is incurred of any inconvenience arising from such a source. With an individual, however, there is no such assurance, for he cannot appeal to the articles of war; and the ordinary legal enactments for the protection of the mariner will not enable him to effect objects so far removed beyond the scope of the laws. I was fully aware that many would go, but that few might stay; for while a voyage of discovery _in prospectu_ possesses great attractions for the imagination, the hardship, danger, and thousand other rude realities, soon dissipate the illusion, and leave the aspirant longing for that home he should never have quitted. In like manner, seamen can be procured in abundance, but cannot be kept from desertion whenever any matter goes wrong; and the total previous ignorance of their characters and dispositions renders this more likely, as the admission of one 'black sheep' goes far to taint the entire crew. "These considerations fully convinced me that it was necessary to form _men_ to my purpose, and, by a line of steady and kind conduct, to raise up a personal regard for myself and attachment for the vessel, which could not be expected in ordinary cases. In pursuance of this object, I was nearly three years in preparing a crew to my mind, and gradually moulding them to consider the hardest fate or misfortune under my command as better than the ordinary service in a merchant-vessel. How far I have succeeded remains yet to be proved; but I cannot help hoping that I have raised the character of many, and have rendered all happy and contented since they have been with me; and certain am I that no men can do their duty more cheerfully or willingly than the crew of the Royalist. "I may pass over in silence my motives for undertaking so long and arduous a voyage; and it will be sufficient to say, that I have been firmly convinced of its beneficial tendency in adding to knowledge, increasing trade, and spreading Christianity. The prospectus of the undertaking was published in the _Geographical Journal_, vol. viii. part iii., of 1838, when my preparations for sea were nearly complete. I had previously avoided making any public mention of my intentions, for praise before performance is disgusting; and I knew I should be exposed to prying curiosity, desirous of knowing what I did not know myself. "On the 27th October, 1838, the Royalist left the river; and, after a succession of heavy gales, finally quitted the land on the 16th December. I may here state some farther particulars, to enable my readers to become better acquainted with her and her equipment. The Royalist, as already noticed, belonged to the Royal Yacht Squadron, which in foreign ports admits her to the same privileges as a man-of-war, and enables her to carry a white ensign. She sails fast, is conveniently fitted up, is armed with six six-pounders, a number of swivels, and small arms of all sorts, carries four boats, and provisions for four months. Her principal defect is being too sharp in the floor, which, in case of taking the ground, greatly increases the risk; but I comfort myself with the reflection that a knowledge of this will lead to redoubled precaution to prevent such a disaster. She is withal a good sea-boat, and as well calculated for the service as could be desired. "Most of her hands had been with me for three years or upward, and the rest were highly recommended. They are, almost without exception, young, able-bodied, and active--fit in all respects for enduring hardship and privation, or the more dangerous reverse of self-indulgence, and willing to follow the fortunes of the Royalist and her commander through all the various shades of good or evil fortune which may betide. A fine, though slow passage took us to Rio Janeiro, which presents features of natural beauty rarely equaled. The weather during our stay was hot in the extreme, and very wet, which marred, in some degree, the satisfaction I should otherwise have enjoyed in wandering about this picturesque country. I passed ten days, however, very agreeably, and departed with some regret from this brief visit to America and from my friends (if they will so allow me to call them) on board H.M.S. Calliope. I must not omit to mention that, during my stay, I visited a slaver, three of which (prizes to our men-of-war) lay in the harbor. It is a most loathsome and disgusting sight. Men, women, and children--the aged and the infant--crowded into a space as confined as the pens in Smithfield, not, however, to be released by death at the close of the day, but to linger, diseased and festering, for weeks or months, and then to be discharged into perpetual and hopeless slavery. I wish I could say that our measures tended toward the abolition of this detestable traffic; but from all that I could learn and observe, I am forced to confess that the exertions made to abolish slavery are of no avail in this country, and never will be till harsher means are resorted to. "There are points of view in which this traffic wears a more cheering aspect; for any one comparing the puny Portuguese or the bastard Brazilian with the athletic negro, cannot but allow that the ordinary changes and chances of time will place this fine country in the hands of the latter race. The negro will be fit to cultivate the soil, and will thrive beneath the tropical sun of the Brazils. The enfeebled white man grows more enfeebled and more degenerate with each succeeding generation, and languishes in a clime which nature never designed him to inhabit. The time will come when the debased and suffering negroes shall possess this fertile land, and when some share of justice shall be awarded to their cheerful tempers and ardent minds. "Quitting Rio on the 9th, we cruised for a day or two with H.M.S. Calliope and Grecian; and on the 11th, parting company, prosecuted our voyage for the Cape of Good Hope." The next notice runs thus:--"The aspect of Tristan d'Acunha is bold even to grandeur. The peak, towering upward of eight thousand feet above the sea, is inferior only to Teneriffe, and the precipitous cliffs overhanging the beach are a fitting base for such a mountain. I regretted not being able to examine this island for many reasons, but principally, perhaps, on account of the birds of the South Atlantic I had hoped to collect there, many of which are so often seen by voyagers, yet so little known and so vaguely described. "On the 29th March, after being detained a fortnight [at the Cape of Good Hope] by such weather as no one could regret, we sailed again in a southeaster, and after a passage of six weeks reached Java Head. "I had been suffering for some time under a severe indisposition, and consequently hailed the termination of our voyage with double satisfaction, for I greatly required rest and quiet--two things impossible to be had on ship-board. From Java Head we glided slowly through Prince's Strait, and coasting along the island, dropped our anchor in Anjer Roads. The scenery of this coast is extremely lovely, and comprises every feature which can heighten the picturesque; noble mountains, a lake-like sea, and deeply indented coast-line, rocks, islets, and, above all, a vegetation so luxuriant that the eye never wearies with gazing on its matchless tints. Anjer combines all these beauties, and possesses the incalculable advantage of being within a moderate ride of the refreshing coolness of the hills. We here procured water and provisions in abundance, being daily visited by crowds of canoes filled with necessaries or curiosities. Fowls, eggs, yams, cocoa-nuts, and sweet potatoes, were mixed with monkeys of various sorts, paroquets, squirrels, shells, and similar temptations on the stranger's purse or wardrobe. Great was the bartering for old clothes, handkerchiefs, and hats; and great the number of useless and noisy animals we received in exchange. Great, too, was the merriment aboard, and the excitement when the canoes first came. The transition from the monotony of a sea-life to the loquacious bustle of barter with a half-civilized people is so sudden, that the mind at once feels in a strange land, and the commonest productions proclaim the luxuriant climes of the tropics. Until this impression is made, we hardly know why we have been sailing onward for four months past, so quiet and unvarying is the daily tenor of a life aboard ship. "_1st June, Singapore._--On reaching Singapore I was most hospitably received by the kind inhabitants, and took up my abode with Mr. Scott. The quiet and repose of my present life, the gentle ride in the cool of the morning and evening drive after an early dinner, are already restoring my shattered strength, and I trust soon to be enabled to prosecute my farther undertaking. In the mean time the Royalist is undergoing a refit after her passage, and, like her owner, is daily improving in good looks. "I could say much of Singapore, for it is the pivot of the liberal system in the Archipelago, and owes its prosperity to the enlightened measures of Sir Stamford Raffles. The situation is happily chosen, the climate healthy, the commerce unshackled, and taxation light; and these advantages have attracted the vessels of all the neighboring nations to bring their produce to this market in order to exchange it for the manufactures of England. "The extent of the island is about 27 miles by 11 broad. The town of Singapore stands on the south side, facing the shores of Battam, and is intersected by a salt-water stream, which separates the native town from the pleasant residences of the European inhabitants; the latter stretch along the beach, and cover a space which extends to the foot of a slight eminence, on which stands the governor's house. Off the town lie the shipping of various countries, presenting a most picturesque and striking appearance. The man-of-war, the steamer, and the merchant-vessels of the civilized world, contrast with the huge, misshapen, and bedizened arks of China! The awkward prahus of the Bugis are surrounded by the light boats of the island. The semi-civilized Cochin-Chinese, with their vessels of antiquated European construction, deserve attention from this important step toward improvement; and the rude prahus of some parts of Borneo claim it from their exhibiting the early dawn of maritime adventure. "_27th July._--After various causes of delay I sailed on this day from Singapore. When I contrast my state of health at my arrival with what it now is, I may well be thankful for the improvement. Every kindness and hospitality has been shown me. "On Saturday at noon we got under weigh with a light breeze, and stood down the Strait on our way to Borneo. "_28th._--In the morning we were well out in the China Sea, running six knots per hour, N. 3/4 E. Lines of discolored water were seen about us, and about 11 A.M. we entered a field some two miles long and 400 yards wide. The consistence of this dirty mass was that of pea-soup, which it likewise resembled in color; and I doubt not the white water of the China Sea (vide _Nautical Magazine_) is referable to this appearance seen in the night, as may the report of rocks, &c. The Malays on board called it 'sara,' and declared it to come from the rivers. On examination it appeared, when magnified, somewhat like a grain of barley or corn. The particles were extremely minute, soft, and, when rubbed between the fingers, emitted a strong smell like paint-oil; a potent odor arose while passing through the thick patch. "It may not be superfluous to recount here the preparations I have made for this trip to Borneo, or my intentions when I get there. Borneo Proper, once the seat of piracy, which few vessels could approach with safety, is now under the sway of the Rajah Muda Hassim. The character given this rajah by many persons who know and have traded with him is good, and he is spoken of as generous and humane, and greatly inclined to the English. These reasons have induced me to abandon my intention of proceeding direct to Malludu Bay, and during the season of the southwest monsoon to confine myself principally to the northwest coast. Muda Hassim being at present reported to be at Sarawak, I propose, after taking a running sketch of the coast from Tanjong Api, to enter the river of that name, and proceed as far as the town. "I believe I have availed myself of every means within my reach to render my visit agreeable to the rajah. I carry with me many presents which are reported to be to his liking; gaudy silks of Surat, scarlet cloth, stamped velvet, gunpowder, &c., beside a large quantity of confectionery and sweets, such as preserved ginger, jams, dates, syrups, and to wind up all, a huge box of China toys for his children! I have likewise taken coarse nankeen to the amount of 100_l._ value, as the best circulating medium in the country. Beside the above mentioned preparations, I carry letters from the government of Singapore, to state, as far as can be done, the objects of my voyage, and to caution the rajah to take every care of my safety and that of my men. The Board of Commerce have at the same time entrusted me with a letter and present to him, to thank him for his humanity to the crew of an English vessel wrecked on this coast. The story, as I had it from the parties shipwrecked, is highly creditable to his humanity. The vessel, called the Napoleon, was wrecked on the bar of Sarawak river in the northeast monsoon. The people were saved with difficulty, and remained in the jungle, where they were after a time discovered by some Malays. Muda Hassim, on receiving intelligence of this, sent down and brought them to his town, collected all that he could recover from the wreck, clothed them handsomely, and fed them well for several months, and, on an opportunity arriving, sent them back to Singapore free of expense. "At the same time, however, that I have prepared to meet the natives as friends, I have not neglected to strengthen my crew, in case I should find them hostile. Eight stout men of the Ourang Laut, or men of the sea (Malays), have been added to the force. They are an athletic race, cheerful and willing; and though not seaman in our sense of the term, yet well calculated for this expedition. They pull a good oar, and are invaluable in saving the Europeans the exposure consequent to wooding and watering. They possess, likewise, the knowledge of the jungle and its resources, and two of them have before been to Sarawak and along the coast. Beside these, a young gentleman named Williamson accompanies me as interpreter; and I have fortunately met with a medical gentleman, Mr. Westermann, a Dane, who is surgeon for this voyage, Mr. Williams having left me at Singapore. With these arrangements I look without apprehension to the power of the Malays; and without relaxing in measures of the strictest vigilance, I shall never sleep less soundly when it comes to my turn so to do. "_August 1st._--I am, then, at length, anchored off the coast of Borneo! not under very pleasant circumstances, for the night is pitchy dark, with thunder, lightning, rain, and squalls of wind. "_2d._--Squally bad night. This morning, the clouds clearing away, was delightful, and offered for our view the majestic scenery of Borneo. At nine got under weigh, and ran in on an east-by-south course 4 1/2 or 5 miles toward Tanjong Api. Came to an anchor about five miles from the land, and dispatched the boat to take sights ashore, in order to form a base-line for triangulation. The scenery may really be called majestic. The low and wooded coast about Tanjong Api is backed by a mountain called Gunong [1] Palo, some 2000 feet in height, which slopes down behind the point and terminates in a number of hummocks, showing from a distance like islands. "The coast, unknown, and represented to abound in shoals and reefs, is the harbor for pirates of every description. Here, every man's hand is raised against his brother man; and here sometimes the climate wars upon the excitable European, and lays many a white face and gallant heart low on the distant strand. "_3d._--Beating between Points Api and Datu. The bay, as far as we have seen, is free from danger; the beach is lined by a feathery row of beautiful casuarinas, and behind is a tangled jungle, without fine timber; game is plentiful, from the traces we saw on the sand; hogs in great numbers, troops of monkeys, and the print of an animal with cleft hoofs, either a large deer, tapir, or cow. We saw no game save a tribe of monkeys, one of which, a female, I shot, and another quite young, which we managed to capture alive. The captive, though the young of the black monkey, is grayish, with the exception of his extremities, and a stripe of black down his back and tail. Though very young, he has already taken food, and we have some hope of preserving his life. "We witnessed, at the same time, an extraordinary and fatal leap made by one of these monkeys. Alarmed by our approach, he sprang from the summit of a high tree at the branch of one lower, and at some distance. He leaped short, and came clattering down some sixty or seventy feet amid the jungle. We were unable to penetrate to the spot on account of a deep swamp to ascertain his fate. "A rivulet flows into the sea not far from where we landed; the water is sweet, and of that clear brown color so common in Ireland. This coast is evidently the haunt of native prahus, whether piratical or other. Prints of men's feet were numerous and fresh, and traces of huts, fires, and parts of boats, some of them ornamented after their rude fashion. A long pull of five miles closed the day. "_Sunday, 4th._--Performed divine service myself! manfully overcoming that horror which I have to the sound of my own voice before an audience. In the evening landed again more to the westward. Shore skirted by rocks; timber noble, and the forest clear of brushwood, enabling us to penetrate with ease as far as caution permitted. Traces of wild beasts numerous and recent, but none discovered. Fresh-water streams, colored as yesterday, and the trail of an alligator from one of them to the sea. This dark forest, where the trees shoot up straight and tall, and are succeeded by generation after generation varying in stature, but struggling upward, strikes the imagination with pictures trite yet true. Here the hoary sage of a hundred years lies moldering beneath your foot, and there the young sapling shoots beneath the parent shade, and grows in form and fashion like the parent stem. The towering few, with heads raised above the general mass, can scarce be seen through the foliage of those beneath; but here and there the touch of time has cast his withering hand upon their leafy brow, and decay has begun his work upon the gigantic and unbending trunk. How trite and yet how true! It was thus I meditated in my walk. The foot of European, I said, has never touched where my foot now presses--seldom the native wanders here. Here I indeed behold nature fresh from the bosom of creation, unchanged by man, and stamped with the same impress she originally bore! Here I behold God's design when He formed this tropical land, and left its culture and improvement to the agency of man. The Creator's gift as yet neglected by the creature; and yet the time may be confidently looked for when the axe shall level the forest, and the plow turn the ground. "_6th._--Made sail this morning, and stood in for an island called Talang Talang, anchoring about eight miles distant, and sending a boat to take correct observations for a base-line. "Our party found Malays of Sarawak on the island, who were civil to them, and offered to conduct us up to-morrow, if we wanted their assistance. The pirates, both Illanuns and Dyaks, have been gone from the bay but a few days; the former seaward, the latter up the rivers. "_7th._--Morning calm. In the afternoon got under weigh, and anchored again near the island of Talang Talang; the smaller one a conical hill bearing south. The Bandar [2] of the place came off in his canoe to make us welcome. He is a young man sent by Rajah Muda Hassim to collect turtles' eggs, which abound in this vicinity, especially on the larger island. The turtles are never molested, for fear of their deserting the spot; and their eggs, to the amount of five or six thousand, are collected every morning and forwarded at intervals to Sarawak as articles of food. "Our visitor was extremely polite, and, in common with other Asiatics, possessed the most pleasing and easy manners. He assured us of a welcome from his rajah, and, in their usual phrase, expressed himself that the rajah's heart would dilate in his bosom at the sight of us. His dress consisted of trowsers of green cloth, a dark green velvet jacket, and his sarong round his waist, thrown gracefully over two krisses, which he wore at his girdle. His attendants were poorly attired, and mostly unarmed--a proof of confidence in us, and a desire to assure us of his own friendly intentions. I treated him with sweetmeats and syrup, and of his own accord he took a glass of sherry, as did his chief attendant. On his departure he was presented with three yards of red cloth, and subsequently with a little tea and gunpowder." CHAPTER II. Progress: observations.--Description of the coast of Borneo.--Account, &c. of a Pangeran.--Arrival at Sarawak.--Meetings with Rajah Muda Hassim, and conversations.--The Town.--Interchange of visits and presents--Excursion to Dyak tribes.--Resources and commercial products. I Resume Mr. Brooke's Journal, which requires no introductory remark. "_Aug. 8th._--A cloudy day, preventing us from taking our wished-for observations. I made a boat-excursion round the two islands. The north one is somewhat the larger; the southern one, running north and south, consists of two hills joined by a low and narrow neck of land. The water between these islands is deep, varying from seven to six fathoms; but between the smaller one and the main there are rocks and reefs; and though a passage may exist, it would not be advisable for a vessel to try it. These two small islands possess all the characteristic beauties of the clime. Formed of brown granite, with a speck of white sandy beach, and rising into hills covered with the noblest timber, wreathed with gigantic creepers. Cream-colored pigeons flit from tree to tree, and an eagle or two soared aloft watching their motions. Frigate-birds are numerous; and several sorts of smaller birds in the bush, difficult to get at. A small species of crocodile, or alligator, was likewise seen: but we were not fortunate enough to shoot one. The natives, when asked whether they were alligators, answered in the negative, calling them crocodiles. The tides appear to be as irregular as tides usually are in a deep bay. The rise and fall of the tide is about fifteen feet. "_9th._--After breakfast this morning took our sights, and at twelve o'clock the latitude of the smaller Talang Talang and the ship for a base-line. We yesterday took the same base-line by sound, firing alternately three guns from the vessel and three from the shore. "_10th._--A squall from the northward brought in a chopping sea in the morning. We were favored with a visit from another native party, but the chief was in every respect inferior to our first acquaintance, Bandar Dowat. "_11th Sunday._--Got under weigh early, after a night of torrents of rain. The breeze being directly out of Lundu river, I stood as near it as I could, and then bore away for Santobong, in order to reach Sarawak. From Gunong Gading the coast gradually declines, and forms two points. The first of these is Tanjong Bloungei, near which, on the right hand, runs a small river, of the same name. The next point is Tanjong Datu, which shows prominently from most parts of the bay. From Tanjong Datu the coast recedes into a bay, and again forms a low point, which I have christened Tanjong Lundu. The river Lundu disembogues itself into the bay just beyond the point of the same name; and the land on its far bank forms a bight of considerable depth. The Lundu is a barred river with but little water; though, judging from the opening, it is by no means small. Our pilots inform me at the same time, however, that within the bar there is considerable depth of water. "From the Sungei Lundu the land rises behind a wooded beach. The first hill, which may be said to form the larboard entrance of the river, is peaked, and called Sumpudin, and near it is a barred river of the same name. This range of high land runs some distance; and near its termination is the river Tamburgan. The low coast runs into another bight; and the first opening after the termination of the high land is the mouth of the river Seboo. Then comes another river; after which the land rises into hills, gradually larger, till they terminate in a round-topped hill, which forms the starboard entrance (going in) of the Sarawak river. "This river discharges itself at the east corner of the bay; and its locality is easily recognized by the highest peak of Santobong, which towers over its left bank, close to the entrance. A ship rounding Datu will readily perceive the high land of Santobong, showing like a large island, with another smaller island at its northern extremity. Both these, however, are attached to the main: and the northernmost point, called Tanjong Sipang, is distinguished by two peaks, like horns, one small, the other larger. Steer from Datu a direct course toward this high land, and when within a mile and a half or two miles of the shore, haul in along the land, as there is a sand nearly dry at low water on the starboard hand, stretching from the shore to the Saddle island, or Pulo Satang. The leading mark to clear this sand is to bring the hollow formed between the round hill at the right entrance of the Sarawak river and the next hill a-head, and as you approach the river's mouth, steer for a small island close to the shore, called Pulo Karra, or Monkey Island. These marks will conduct you over a shoal with 1/4 three, the least depth at high water; you will then deepen your water, and keep away for the low green point on the far side of the river, edging gradually in; and when you are some distance from the opposite low point on the port hand, cross the bar in three fathom (high water) nearly in the center of the river. You must not, however, encroach on the larboard side. The bar is narrow, and just within is 7 and 7 1/2 fathom, where we are at present anchored. The scenery is noble. On our left hand is the peak of Santobong, clothed in verdure nearly to the top; at his foot a luxuriant vegetation, fringed with the casuarina, and terminating in a beach of white sand. The right bank of the river is low, covered with pale green mangroves, with the round hill above mentioned just behind it. Santobong peak is 2050 feet, or thereabouts, by a rough trigonometrical measurement. "_12th._--Lay at anchor; took angles and observations, and shot in the evening without any success. There is a fine species of large pigeon of a gray color I was desirous of getting, but they were too cunning. Plenty of wild hogs were seen, but as shy as though they had been fired at all their lives. When the flood made, dispatched my gig for Sarawak, in order to acquaint the rajah of my arrival. "_13th._--Got under weigh, and in the second reach met our gig returning, followed by a large canoe, with a Pangeran of note to welcome us. We gave him a salute of five guns; while he, on his part, assured us of his rajah's pleasure at our arrival, and his own desire to be of service. With the Pangeran Oula Deen (or Illudeen, anglicè Aladdin), came the rajah's chief writer, his shroff, a renegade Parsee, a war-captain, and some others, beside a score of followers. They made themselves much at home, ate and drank (the less scrupulous took wine), and conversed with ease and liveliness. No difference can be more marked than between the Hindoostani and the Malay. The former, though more self-possessed and polished, shows a constraint in manners and conversation, and you feel that his training has made him an artificial character. The Malay, on the contrary, concealing as well the feelings upper-most in his mind, is lively and intelligent, and his conversation is not confined to a dull routine of unmeaning compliments. "_August 13th._--The Pangeran spoke to me of some ship-captain who was notoriously cruel to his Lascars, and insolent in his language to the Malays. He was murdered by his crew, and the circumstance was related to me as though I was to approve the act! 'No Malay of Borneo (added the Pangeran) would injure a European, were he well treated, and in a manner suitable to his rank.' And I am sure such a declaration, in a limited sense, is consonant with all known principles of human nature, and the action of the passions and feelings. "Our Pangeran was quite the gentleman, and a manly gentleman too. His dress was a black velvet jacket, trimmed with gold lace, and trowsers of green cloth, with a red sarong and kris. He was the only one of the party armed while aboard. The rest were good, quiet men, and one or two of them very intelligent. They took their leave of us to get back to the town at sunset; but the ebb making, returned and stayed until twelve at night, when the tide turned in their favor. We had some difficulty in providing beds. The Pangeran slept in my cabin, and the rest were distributed about on couches or carpets. "_August 14th._--Got under weigh with the flood, and, favored by a light breeze, proceeded up the river nearly as far as the town. From the ignorance of the pilots, however, we grounded on a rock in the middle of the river in 1 1/2 fathom water, and it took us an hour to heave the vessel off by the stern. Had the tide been falling, we should have been in a critical situation, as the rock is dry at low water; but as it was, we received no damage. Shortly after getting off, several boats with assistance came from the place, dispatched in haste by the rajah. The intention was kind, though we needed not the aid. Being dark, we dropped anchor in 5 1/2 fathom, about 1 1/2 mile from the town. "_15th._--Anchored abreast of Sarawak at seven, and saluted the rajah with twenty-one guns, which were returned with eighteen from his residence. The rajah's own brother, Pangeran Mahammed, then saluted the vessel with seven guns, which were returned. Having breakfasted, and previously intimated our intention, we pulled ashore to visit the great man. He received us in state, seated in his hall of audience, which outside is nothing but a large shed, erected on piles, but within decorated with taste. Chairs were placed on each side of the ruler, who occupied the head seat. Our party were placed on one hand; on the other sat his brother Mahammed, and Macota and some others of his principal chiefs, while immediately behind him his twelve younger brothers were seated. "The dress of Muda Hassim was simple, but of rich material; and most of the principal men were well, and even superbly, dressed. His countenance is plain, but intelligent and highly pleasing, and his manners perfectly elegant and easy. His reception was kind, and, I am given to understand, highly flattering. We sat, however, trammeled with the formality of state, and our conversation did not extend beyond kind inquiries and professions of friendship. We were presented with tobacco rolled up in a leaf, each about a foot long, and tea was served by attendants on their knees. A band played wild and not unmusical airs during the interview, and the crowd of attendants who surrounded us were seated in respectful silence. After a visit of half an hour, we rose and took our leave. "Sarawak is but an occasional residence of the Rajah Muda Hassim, and he is now detained here by a rebellion in the interior. On my inquiring whether _the war_ proceeded favorably, he replied that there was _no war_, but merely _some child's play among his subjects_. From what I hear, however, from other quarters, it is more serious than he represents it; and hints have been thrown out that the rajah wishes me to stay here _as a demonstration_ to intimidate the rebels. We shall see. "The town consists of a collection of mud huts erected on piles, and may contain about 1500 persons. The residences of the rajah and his fourteen brothers occupy the greater part, and their followers are the great majority of the population. When they depart for Borneo (or Bruni), the remainder must be a very small population, and apparently very poor. The river affords a few fish; but there is little sign of cultivation either of rice or other grain. Fowls and goats seem the only other means of subsistence of these people. The geological features of the country are easily described. Vast masses of granite rock are scattered along the coast; for instance, Gunong Poe, Gading, Santobong, &c. &c., which have evidently at some former period been detached islands. The spaces between these granite masses is now filled in with alluvial soil, intersected in every direction with rivers and streams, and on the low alluvial bank of the Sarawak river stands this little town. The distance from the sea is about twenty-five miles, through banks of mangrove and the Nepa palm, until approaching the town, where some jungle-trees first appear. The breadth is about 100 yards, and the depth six fathoms at low water spring-tides in mid river opposite the rajah's residence. In some places below, the river is narrower, and the depths considerable, varying from three to seven fathoms. The prominent points, however, are shallow, and the rocks below the town lie on the starboard hand coming up just as the first houses appear in sight. The larboard hand should then be kept close aboard. Some other rocks are likewise reported; and in ascending the stream, though it be generally clear, a vessel _with_ or without a pilot should have a boat a-head sounding. In the evening I went ashore suddenly to pay a visit to the rajah, in order, if possible, to break through the bonds of formality. The great man soon made his appearance, and received us very well. We talked much of the state of his country and of ours; but he was very guarded when I spoke of the Dutch. 'He had no dealings whatever (he said) with them, and never allowed their vessels to come here, and therefore could not say what they were like.' We sat in easy and unreserved converse, out of hearing of the rest of the circle. He expressed great kindness to the English nation; and begged me to tell him _really_ which was the most powerful nation, England or Holland, or, as he significantly expressed it, which is the 'cat, and which the rat?' I assured him that England was the mouser, though in this country Holland had most territory. We took our leave after he had intimated his intention of visiting us to-morrow morning. "_16th._--We were ready to receive the rajah after breakfast; but these affairs of state are not so easily managed. There came two diplomatists on board to know, in the first place, how many guns we intended to salute with, and, in the second, whether I would go ashore in my gig, in order to fetch the chief and his brother off. The latter request I might have refused, and in a diplomatic light it was inadmissible; but I readily conceded it, because, in the first place, it was less troublesome than a refusal; and, in the next, I cared not to bandy paltry etiquets with a semi-savage; and whatever pride might whisper, I could not, as an individual traveler, refuse an acknowledgment of the supremacy of a native prince. I went accordingly. The great man came on board, and we treated him with every distinction and respect. Much barbaric state was maintained as he quitted his own residence. His sword of state with a gold scabbard, his war-shield, jewel-hilted kris, and flowing _horse_-tails, were separately carried by the grand officers of state. Bursts of wild music announced his exit. His fourteen brothers and principal Pangerans surrounded him, and a number (formidable on the deck of a vessel) covered the rear. He stayed two hours and a half; ate and drank, and talked with great familiarity; till the oppressive heat of the crowded cabin caused me to wish them all to another place. However, he departed at last, under a salute of twenty-one guns; and the fatigues of the day were satisfactorily brought to a close. I afterward sent the rajah the presents I had brought for him, consisting of a silk sarong, some yards of red cloth and velvet, a pocket-pistol, scissors and knives, with tea, biscuits, sweetmeats, China playthings, &c. &c. A person coming here should be provided with a few articles of small importance to satisfy the crowd of inferior chiefs. Soap, small parcels of tea, lucifers, writing-paper, a large stock of cigars, biscuits, and knives, are the best; for, without being great beggars, they seem greatly to value these trifles, even in the smallest quantity. The higher class inquired frequently for scents; and for the great men I know no present which would be more acceptable than a small pier-glass. All ranks seemed greatly pleased with those aboard; and some of the lower orders, quite ignorant of the reflection, were continually laughing, moving, sitting, and rising, to observe the corresponding effect. "_18th._--In the morning I intimated my intention of paying a visit to the Pangeran Muda Mahammed; and being apprised of his readiness to see us, I went ashore to his house. He was not, however, in the room to receive us; nor, indeed, was I much surprised at this slight, for he is a sulky-looking, ill-favored savage, with a debauched appearance, and wanting in the intelligence of his brother the rajah. I seated myself, however, and remained some time; but the delay exceeding what I considered the utmost limit of due forbearance, I expressed to the Pangeran Macota my regret that his compeer was not ready to receive me, adding that, as I was not accustomed to be kept waiting, I would return to my vessel. I spoke in the quietest tone imaginable, rose from my seat, and moved away; but the assembled Pangerans, rising likewise, assured me it was a mistake; that he was not yet dressed, and would greatly regret it himself. I repeated that when I visited the rajah, he received me in the hall. While this brief discussion passed, the culprit Muda Mahammed appeared and apologized for his remissness, assuring me that the error was his attendants', who told him I was not coming for an hour. The excuse of course passed current, though false, as excuses generally are. I vindicated my independence, not until it was necessary; and I am well aware that any endeavor of a native to commit an indirect rudeness, if met with firmness and gentleness, always recoils on his own head. The routine of the visit resembled our last--tea, cigars, complimentary conversation and departure. The Pangeran afterward sent me a present of fowls and goats, and I was right glad to have it over. Muda Mahammed is the 'own' brother to Muda Hassim, and next in rank here. As yet I had not made any request to the rajah to allow me to visit various parts of his country; but thinking the time to do so was come (the ceremonial of arrival being past), I sent Mr. Williamson, my interpreter, to express my wish to travel to some of the Malay towns and into the country of the Dyaks. The latter request I fully expected, would be evaded, and was therefore the more pleased when an answer came giving a cheerful consent to my going among the Dyaks of Lundu, and visiting the towns of Sadung, Samarahan, &c. At the same time the rajah informed me, that if I went up the river, he could not be answerable for my safety, as the rebels were not far distant, and constantly on the watch. Sarebus, another large Dyak town, he advised me not to visit, as they were inimical to his government, and a skirmish had lately taken place between them and some of his subjects. "_18th, Sunday._--Performed service. In the evening walked ashore, but the jungle was wet after rain. Every day or night since arriving it has rained, sometimes in torrents, at others in showers, and the sky has been so obscured that no observations can be obtained. The thermometer never ranges above 81°, and sometimes stands at 59°. "At twelve at night we were surprised by a boat sent from the rajah, to say he was taken ill, and wanted some physic. We dispatched our surgeon, but it was found impossible to admit him into the sacred precincts of the seraglio, and he returned with the information that the rajah was asleep. "_21st._--Our fleet were in readiness before daylight, and by five o'clock we left Kuching, [3] and dropped down the river. The Pangeran Illudeen and the Panglima, both in prahus, accompanied us, and with our long-boat (the Skimalong) formed quite a gay procession. The prahu of the Pangeran pulled twelve paddles, mounted two brass swivels, and in all had a crew of about twenty men. The Panglima's boat likewise carried a gun, and had about ten men; while the Skimalong mounted an iron swivel, and carried six Englishmen and one of our Singapore Malays. With this equipment we might be pronounced far superior to any force of the rajah's enemies we were likely to meet. "We passed from the Sarawak river into the Morotaba. At the junction of the two streams the Morotaba is narrow; but at no great distance, where it meets the Quop, it becomes wider, and in some places more than half a mile across. "The river Quop is a fine stream, fully, as far as I could see, as broad as the Morotaba or Sarawak. Beyond the junction of the Quop and Morotaba the latter river divides into two branches--the left-hand one, running to the sea, retains the name of Morotaba, while the right is called Riam. "The Riam is a fine stream; at its junction with the Morotaba it takes that name, as the Morotaba does that of Sarawak where they join. Low mangrove or Nepa palm banks characterize these streams; and occasionally slight eminences, with timber, are to be seen. The highest hill is about 3000 feet high, called Matang, and is at the point of junction between the Morotaba and Riam. "The next river on the starboard hand is the Tanjan, a small stream; and some distance from it, the Kulluong, or Parwheet river, more properly the continuation of the Riam. On the port hand is a smaller river, running N. 35° E. We pursued this stream, called Ugong Passer; and after a hard pull against a strong tide, emerged into the larger river of Samarahan. The tide was so strong against us that we brought up for a couple of hours till it slacked, and between four and five got under weigh again, with the expectation of shortly arriving at our place of destination. Hour after hour passed, however; the sun set; the glorious moon rose upon our progress as we toiled slowly but cheerfully onward. Silence was around, save when broken by the wild song of the Malay boatmen, responded to by the song of our tars to the tune of 'Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie.' "It was such a situation as an excitable mind might envy. The reflection that we were proceeding up a Borneon river hitherto unknown, sailing where no European ever sailed before; the deep solitude, the brilliant night, the dark fringe of retired jungle, the lighter foliage of the river bank, with here and there a tree flashing and shining with fireflies, nature's tiny lamps glancing and flitting in countless numbers and incredible brilliancy! At eleven at night we reached Samarahan, having been eighteen hours in the boat, and fifteen at the oars, chiefly against tide. The men were tired, but cheerful. Indeed, I can give them no praise beyond their merits for conduct spirited, enduring, and yet so orderly as never to offend the native inhabitants, or infringe upon their prejudices. A glass of grog with our supper, and we all soon closed our eyes in comfortable sleep, such as fatigue alone can bring. "_22d._--The village of Samarahan consists of a few houses, built, as usual, upon posts, and standing close to the brink of the river. It contains from sixty to eighty inhabitants in all, and there is nothing in its site different from the rest of the country. While here, a boat, with a Dyak family, came alongside, consisting of a father, his son, and two daughters. They belonged to the Sibnowan tribe, and had a 'ladang,' or farm, on the Samarahan, toward the sea. The women were good-looking; one, indeed, handsome, plump, and intelligent. They were naked to the waist, and ornamented with several cinctures of brass and colored rattans scraped very thin. "About ten we quitted Samarahan and proceeded up the river, stopping only to take a set of sights, and about seven in the evening reached Sibnow, having previously passed the villages of Rembas and Siniawan. Siniawan and Sibnow are not above half a mile from each other, and Rembas not far distant. They are all about the same size, consisting each of eight or ten houses, and containing sixty or eighty inhabitants. The river, during its course so far, is characterized by the same clay-mud bank, evidently an alluvial deposit, without one rock to be seen. The banks are low, and for the most part cleared a quarter of a mile or more on either side, but the jungle is rarely disturbed beyond that distance. Occasionally, however, the scene is varied by the rich foliage of this jungle, which here and there kisses the tide as it flows by, and in some spots on the cleared ground arise clumps of trees that would be the pride of any park in Europe. Monkeys in great numbers frisked among the branches; and though unable to shoot them, they amused us often by their grotesque attitudes and the tremendous leaps they made. On one occasion we saw as many as twenty throw themselves, one after the other, from the branch of a high tree into a thick bush full forty feet below, and not one missed his distance or hold! On our way to Sibnow the Pangeran had collected a number of men for a deer-hunt. The nets used for this purpose are formed of rattans strongly wove together, which, being stretched along the jungle, have nooses of the same material, at three feet apart, attached to this ridge-rope. Beaters and dogs then hunt from the opposite quarter, and the deer, in escaping them, is caught in this trap. A length of several hundred fathoms is stretched at once, each separate part of thirty or forty fathoms being joined on as required; and I was told that in this way many deer were taken. "A heavy rain came on directly after we had brought up, and quickly dispelled all our preparations for supper, by putting out our fire, cooling our hot water, and soaking our half-broiled fowls. To a hungry man such an event is very disastrous; but nothing could exceed the kindness of our Malay friends. They took us to the best house in the village, prepared our supper, and provided us with comfortable mats and pillows to sleep on. Some of our party preferred a bad supper and wet bed to these accommodations; and, to consummate their discomfort, they were kept awake a great part of the night by sandflies. Our lot in the house was more fortunate. We heard the rattling of the pitiless rain, and commiserated those whose choice or distrust kept them in the boat. I obtained by this means an excellent opportunity of seeing a Malay _ménage_ in its primitive simplicity. Women, children, and all their domestic arrangements, were exposed to view. Nothing appeared to be concealed, nor could anything exceed the simple, kind-hearted hospitality of the inhabitants. The women gazed upon us freely; and their children, with the shyness natural to their age, yet took a glance at the strangers. Never having seen a white man, their curiosity was naturally excited; but it was never offensive. Our supper consisted of an excellent curry, and cold venison broiled on a stick, flavored with a glass of sherry, and concluded by a cigar. We retired to a dry bed, laying our head on the pillow with as entire a feeling of security as though reposing in England. "A description of this Malay dwelling, situated so far up this hitherto unknown river, may be interesting. Built, like other Malay houses, on posts, floored with split bamboo, and covered with the leaf of the Nepa palm, it presents the very _beau ideal_ of fragility, but affords, at the same time, many advantages, and with a little improvement might be rendered admirably calculated for a new settler in any warm country. It is built at very small expense, is remarkably roomy, free from damp, and weather-proof. The interior of the house consists of four rooms, the center one large and commodious, the front narrower, but thirty-six feet in length, a family sleeping-apartment on one side, and a kitchen at the back. These apartments are divided one from the other by partitions made of the Nepa; the floors were nicely spread with strong mats of Dyak manufacture, and on our arrival finer white mats were laid over these. The entrance of the house is approached by a steep ladder, which in case of attack is easily removed. The river Samarahan is admirably calculated for trade, and, indeed, the same may be said of the whole country, from the great facility it offers of inland communication. There is no impediment for small vessels of 200 or 300 tons navigating as far as Sibnow, the stream being deep and clear of danger. The tides in the river are strong, but not dangerously so; and, sounding occasionally in every reach, we never found less water than three fathoms. The distant mountains, called Bukar (and some other name), are inhabited by Dyaks, and are said to offer many valuable articles of trade; and we may presume this true from the riches of the region whence the Sarawak river takes its rise. It is highly probable, indeed, that both these rivers, as well as the Quop and others, have their source in the same range, and will be found to afford the same mineral productions. Tin, the natives confidently assert, can be procured, and birds' nests in very considerable quantities. The latter article, I have heretofore understood, was found only in the vicinity of the sea, whence the material of which they are composed is gathered; but both here and at Sarawak the best informed and most intelligent Malays assure me it is likewise found in the interior, and brought by the Dyaks from the mountains. The alluvial soil is a rich clay loam. The principal production at present is rice, of which considerable quantities are grown on the banks of the river, which accounts for the clearing of so many miles of the jungle. The mode of cultivation is similar to what is pursued in Sumatra, and so well described by Marsden. A small spot is cleared of jungle, and when the soil is exhausted of its primeval richness, is deserted for another, which again in turn is neglected, and returns to its wild state. The rice produced is of excellent quality, and of a smaller grain than the Java rice we have with us. It is very white and of excellent flavor, and I am inclined to think is the 'Padi ladang,' or rice grown on dry ground. (For rice, cultivation of, &c., &c., vide Marsden's _Sumatra_, p. 65.) "Beside rice, rattans are found in great quantities, and likewise Malacca canes, but whether of good quality I am not able to say. On my expressing a wish to see one, a man was dispatched into the jungle, and returned with one in a few minutes. Bees-wax is another article to be procured here _at present_ to the amount of thirty or forty peculs per year from Sibnow, Malacca canes a small ship-load, rattans in abundance, and any quantity of Garu wood. [4] When we consider the antimony of Sarawak, beside the other things previously mentioned (to say nothing of gold and diamonds), we cannot doubt of the richness of the country: but allowance must be made for the exaggeration of native statements. "It must likewise be borne in mind, that these articles are collected in small quantities in a country thinly populated; and for the purposes of trade it would be necessary to have a resident European on the spot to gather the produce of the country ready for exportation. I have no doubt that permission might be obtained for an English merchant to reside in the country, and that during the lifetime of the Rajah Muda Hassim he would be secure from outrage. The produce of the country might likewise be obtained (at first) at a low rate in exchange for European goods suited to native tastes. In addition to the articles I have already mentioned, I must here add pins, needles, and thread, both gold and white, showy cheap velvets, yellow, green, and red cloth, Surat silks, cottons, colored beads (for the Dyaks), nankeens in small quantities, gold-lace of various qualities, gunpowder, muskets, pistols, flints, &c., &c. The head man of Sibnow (Orang Kaya), when I asked him why he did not collect the produce of the country, replied, that the inhabitants were few, and unless an English merchant was settled at Kuching to buy the things, it was no use collecting them. The uncertainty of sale, as well as the very small prices to be obtained from trading Malays, prevents these people using the advantages of their country, and as yet they seemed to consider it impossible that vessels would come for them. That they will one day or other be convinced to the contrary, I am sure; that it will be soon, I sincerely hope; for I can see no reason, with a population and rulers so pacific, why a trade highly advantageous to Singapore should not be opened. I considered our reception as an additional proof how much better the natives are disposed where they have had no intercourse with Europeans; how perfectly willing they are to extend a friendly hospitality when never previously injured or aggravated; and as the first white men who ever visited their country, we can bear the most cordial testimony to their unaffected kindness. "It is true that we were under the protection of the rajah and accompanied by a Pangeran, and could have insisted on obtaining what was readily granted. But in case the natives had shown any aversion or antipathy toward us, it would easily have been observed. "_23d._--Heavy rain all the morning. Our salt provisions being exhausted, we procured a goat, which was cooked to last during our upward passage. "At 12, the flood making, we quitted Sibnow, and passing through the same description of country, reached the village of Guntong, consisting of eight houses, and about sixty or seventy inhabitants. The scattered population on the banks of the river amounts, however, to an equal, or probably greater number than in the villages. Beyond Guntong the country becomes wild, but beautiful, and the river gradually narrows until not above twenty-five yards wide. The depth, however, was three fathoms at high water, where we brought up for the night, about five hours' pull from Guntong. The course of the river is so tortuous, that in one place two reaches are only divided by a neck of land five yards across! "We were now fairly in the bush, and beyond the range of our Pangeran's knowledge; and I was not therefore surprised (though disappointed) when he intimated the necessity of returning. 'There was nothing to see; the river was narrow, rapid, and obstructed by trees; the Dyaks hostile; the rajah's enemies in ambush.' "I had nothing to answer, save my desire to proceed; but I felt, at the same time, bound in honor to return; for to abuse the indulgence of a native prince on our first excursion would have been a poor way to obtain his future permission to visit other places. "I did everything man could do to shake the Pangeran's resolution; and I believe I should have been successful, had his stock of tobacco and sirih [5] not been expended. My last resource was resorting to the means found efficient with most men to induce them to alter their opinion. I was content to gain a consent to our proceeding some miles farther up the stream in the morning, and then returning with the ebb. Nothing during this contention could be more polite than the Pangeran's manner; for he not only expressed but looked his regret, and urged on me his responsibility to the rajah. The plea was unanswerable, though I could not help suspecting the want of tobacco and betel as the leading motive. "_24th._--We proceeded, as previously agreed, up the river some ten or twelve miles farther, during which distance it narrows to an inconsiderable but deep stream. In many places it was not above eighteen feet wide, with trees overhanging the water. The depth was 2 1/2 fathoms high water; but being the rainy season, it would not be deeper than necessary for boats all the year round. In the early morning the jungle presented a charming scene. Long vistas of noble trees with a diversity of richest foliage were before us--in some places overarching the water, and forming a verdant canopy above our heads. Birds were numerous, and woke the woods with their notes, but rarely approached within shot. Pigeons in numbers and of several varieties were seen, but very shy and wild. "We pushed on ahead of our attendant Pangeran, and pulled up long after the ebb had made. He had a long chase, and exhausted his lungs in shouting to us to return; and at last, from pity and according to promise, I did so. Poor fellow, he was very glad, fired his swivel-gun, and then brought up for breakfast. I believe a few hours' progress would have brought us to the vicinity of the hills and into the country of the Dyaks; and although disappointed at not being allowed to proceed thither, I nevertheless comfort myself that we have penetrated a hundred miles up a Borneon river hitherto unknown--a river likewise (as far as we have yet examined it) admirably calculated for the purposes of navigation and trade, and which may at some future period become of importance not only to the trade of our settlement of Singapore, but even to the commercial interests of Great Britain. The general character of the Samarahan is similar to that of other rivers flowing through alluvial soils; the stream is deep, with muddy banks and bottom, and apparently free from danger or obstruction. Of course these remarks are not meant to prevent the necessity of caution in any vessel proceeding up, as our survey was necessarily very brief; and, like other rivers, one bank will usually be found deep, the other shallow; which must be attended to. "It now remains for us to proceed up the river from its mouth to its junction with the Ugong Passer; and should it prove to have sufficient water for vessels on the bar, nothing more will be desired. "Returning, it took us five hours with a fair tide to Sibnow; the next ebb we reached Samarahan in three hours, where we stopped for the night. A heavy rain set in after we brought to, and continued till morning. "_25th._--The morning was cold and raw; but cleared up as the sun rose. At 7 we started, and at a quarter past 10 reached the mouth of the Ugong Passer and thence into the Riam. Thus it took us 11 1/4 hours, with a strong ebb tide, to pull the distance. We had ascended the river from the junction of the Ugong Passer. Mr. Murray's plan of the river will show the distance as taken of each reach, together with its bearing. The ebb tide lasted us some distance up the Riam; but the flood making, we entered a small creek, called Tarusongong, scarce wide enough for the boat to get through, and entirely overarched with the Nepa palm. The general direction of the creek was N.W., and we emerged from it into the Boyur river; and pulling through several reaches, got into the Quop, [6] and thence, after a while, into the Morotaba; from the Morotaba into the Sarawak river, reaching the schooner at sunset, all well and happy. Thus ended our first cruise into the interior of Borneo." CHAPTER III. Second Cruise: up the River Lundu.--The Sibnowan Dyaks--Their Town of Tungong.--Their Physical Proportions, and Words of their Language.--Their Customs.--Skull-trophies.--Religious Ceremonies and Opinions.--Their Ornaments.--Appearance of both Sexes.--Dress and Morals.--Missionary Prospects of Conversion, and Elevation in the Social Scale.--Government, Laws, and Punishments.--Dances.--Iron Manufacturing.--Chinese Settlement.--Excursion continued. "_Aug. 30th._--Our flotilla, constituted as before, quitted Sarawak with the ebb tide, and reached Santobong, at the mouth of the river, soon after the flood had made. We waited for the turn of the tide; and in wandering along the sand, I had a shot at a wild hog, but unluckily missed. I likewise saw a deer, very like a red deer, and nearly as large. The hog I fired at was a dirty white, with a black head, very unlike in this particular to any wild hogs I have hitherto seen either in India or Europe; but several young pigs, likewise seen, were black. "With the flood we weighed anchor, intending to bring up at the mouth of the Seboo river; but the Skimalong outsailing the prahus, foolishly parted company, causing me much uneasiness, and keeping the prahus under weigh all night. I was at this time aboard the Pangeran's boat, where I usually slept. About 10 on the 31st we reached Lobrek Bay, and rejoined our boat. "With the flood tide we proceeded up Lundu river, which has Gunong Gading on the right hand. The course of the river is very tortuous, but it appears every where of more than sufficient depth. The Dyak village of Tungong is situated about eighteen miles from the mouth, and takes its name from a small stream which joins the Lundu just below, on the left hand. It was dark when we arrived, and we ran against a boom formed of large trees run across the river as a defense against adverse Dyak tribes. We could see nothing of the town, save that it appeared longer than any we had yet visited. "_September 1st._--The River Lundu is of considerable breadth, about half a mile at the mouth, and 150 or 200 yards off Tungong. Tungong stands on the left hand (going up) close to the margin of the stream, and is inclosed by a slight stockade. Within this defense there is _one_ enormous house for the whole population, and three or four small huts. The exterior of the defense between it and the river is occupied by sheds for prahus, and at each extremity are one or two houses belonging to Malay residents. "The common habitation, as rude as it is enormous, measures 594 feet in length, and the front room, or _street_, is the entire length of the building, and 21 feet broad. The back part is divided by mat partitions into the private apartments of the various families, and of these there are forty-five separate doors leading from the public apartment. The widowers and young unmarried men occupy the public room, as only those with wives are entitled to the advantage of separate rooms. The floor of this edifice is raised twelve feet from the ground, and the means of ascent is by the trunk of a tree with notches cut in it--a most difficult, steep, and awkward ladder. In front is a terrace fifty feet broad, running partially along the front of the building, formed, like the floors, of split bamboo. This platform, as well as the front room, besides the regular inhabitants, is the resort of pigs, dogs, birds, monkeys, and fowls, and presents a glorious scene of confusion and bustle. Here the ordinary occupations of domestic labor are carried on--padi ground, mats made, &c., &c. There were 200 men, women, and children counted in the room and in front while we were there in the middle of the day; and, allowing for those abroad and those in their own rooms, the whole community can not be reckoned at less than 400 souls. Overhead, about seven feet high, is a second crazy story, on which they stow their stores of food and their implements of labor and war. Along the large room are hung many cots, four feet long, formed of the hollowed trunks of trees cut in half, which answer the purpose of seats by day and beds by night. The Sibnowan Dyaks are a wild-looking but apparently quiet and inoffensive race. The apartment of their chief, by name Sejugah, is situated nearly in the center of the building, and is larger than any other. In front of it nice mats were spread on the occasion of our visit, while over our heads dangled about thirty ghastly skulls, according to the custom of these people. The chief was a man of middle age, with a mild and pleasing countenance and gentle manners. He had around him several sons and relations, and one or two of the leading men of his tribe, but the rest seemed by no means to be restrained by his presence, or to show him any particular marks of respect: certainly nothing of the servile obsequiousness observed by the Malays before their prince. Their dress consists of a single strip of cloth round the loins, with the ends hanging down before and behind, and a light turban, composed of the bark of trees, twined round the head, and so arranged that the front is stuck up somewhat resembling a short plume of feathers. "Their figures are almost universally well made, showing great activity without great muscular development; but their stature is diminutive, as will be seen by the following measurements, taken at random among them, and confirmed by general observation: "Sejugah, the chief, height, 5 ft. 1 3/4 in. Head round, 1 ft. 9 in. Anterior portion, from ear to ear, 1 foot; posterior, 9 in.; across the top, 1 1/4 ft. "Kalong, the chief's eldest son, height, 5 ft. 2 1/4 in. Anterior portion of head, 1 ft.; posterior, 8 3/4 in.; across the top, 1 ft., wanting a few lines. Height Man from the crowd 5 ft. 1 3/4 in. Another 5 1 1/2 Another 5 4 Another 4 10 Another 5 3 Another 5 4 "The following is a specimen of their names, and some few words of their dialect, the only ones I could get not Malayan. The fact, indeed, appears to be that, from constant intercourse, their Dyak language is fast fading away; and, while retaining their separate religion and customs, they have substituted the soft and fluent Malay for their own harsher jargon. The names are, Jugah or Sejugah, Kalong, Bunshie, Kontong, Lang, Rantie. The vocabulary: hairs, _bok_ (similar to the Lundu Dyaks). thigh, _pah_. woman, _indo_. father, _api_. sea, _tasiek_. slave, _ulon_. spear, _sancho_. black, _chelum_. good, _badass_. bad, _jaie_. quick, _pantass_. slow, _bagadie_. that, _kneah_ (nasal, like _kgneah_). this, _to_. to go, _bajali_. there, _kein_. come, _jali_ here, _keto_. come here, _jali keto_. to give, _bri_. give all, _bri samonia_ (M). to bring, _bii_. bring that, _bii kneah_. bring here, _bii keto_. "The corruptions of the Malay are _langan_ for _tangon_, arm; _ai_ for _ayer_, water; _menua_ for _benua_, country; _komah_ for _rumah_, house; _besi_ for _besar_, great. "Like the rest of the Dyaks, the Sibnowans adorn their houses with the heads of their enemies; but with them this custom exists in a modified form; and I am led to hope that the statements already made public of their reckless search after human beings, _merely_ for the purpose of obtaining their heads, will be found to be exaggerated, if not untrue; and that the custom elsewhere, as here and at Lundu, will be found to be more accordant with our knowledge of other wild tribes, and to be regarded merely as a triumphant token of valor in the fight or ambush; similar, indeed, to the scalps of the North American Indian. "Some thirty skulls were hanging from the roof of the apartment; and I was informed that they had many more in their possession; all, however, the heads of enemies, chiefly of the tribe of Sarebus. On inquiring, I was told that it is indispensably necessary a young man should procure a skull before he gets married. When I urged on them that the custom would be more honored in the breach than the observance, they replied that it was established from time immemorial, and could not be dispensed with. Subsequently, however, Sejugah allowed that heads were very difficult to obtain now, and a young man might sometimes get married by giving presents to his lady-love's parents. At all times they warmly denied ever obtaining any heads but those of their enemies; adding, they were bad people, and deserved to die. "I asked a young unmarried man whether he would be obliged to get a head before he could obtain a wife. He replied, 'Yes.' 'When would he get one?' 'Soon.' 'Where would he go to get one?' 'To the Sarebus river.' I mention these particulars in detail, as I think, had their practice extended to taking the head of any defenseless traveler, or any Malay surprised in his dwelling or boat, I should have wormed the secret out of them. "The men of this tribe marry but one wife, and that not until they have attained the age of seventeen or eighteen. Their wedding ceremony is curious; and, as related, is performed by the bride and bridegroom being brought in procession along the large room, where a brace of fowls is placed over the bridegroom's neck, which he whirls seven times round his head. The fowls are then killed, and their blood sprinkled on the foreheads of the pair, which done, they are cooked, and eaten by the new-married couple _alone_, while the rest feast and drink during the whole night. "Their dead are put in a coffin, and buried; but Sejugah informed me that the different tribes vary in this particular; and it would appear they differ from their near neighbors the Dyaks of Lundu. "Like these neighbors, too, the Sibnowans seem to have little or no idea of a God. They offer prayers to Biedum, the great Dyak chief of former days. Priests and ceremonies they have none; the thickest mist of darkness is over them: but how much easier is it to dispel darkness with light than to overcome the false blaze with the rays of truth! "The manners of the men of this tribe are somewhat reserved, but frank; while the women appeared more cheerful, and more inclined to laugh and joke at our peculiarities. Although the first Europeans they had ever seen, we were by no means annoyed by their curiosity: and their honesty is to be praised; for, though opportunities were not wanting, they never on any occasion attempted to pilfer any thing. Their color resembles the Malay, and is fully as dark; and the cast of their countenance does not favor the notion that they are sprung from a distinct origin. They never intermarry with the Malays, so as to intermingle the two people, and the chastity of their women gives no presumption of its otherwise occurring. Their stature, as I have before remarked, is diminutive, their eyes are small and quick, their noses usually flattened, and their figures clean and well formed, but not athletic. Both sexes generally wear the hair long and turned up, but the elder men often cut it short. As is natural, they are fond of the water, and constantly bathe; and their canoes are numerous. I counted fifty, besides ten or twelve small prahus, which they often build for sale to the Malays, at a very moderate price indeed. The men wear a number of fine cane rings, neatly worked (which we at first mistook for hair), below the knee or on the arm, and sometimes a brass ring or two; but they have no other ornaments. The ears of a few were pierced, but I saw nothing worn in them except a roll of thin palm-leaf, to prevent the hole closing. The women are decidedly good-looking, and far fairer than the men; their figures are well shaped, and remarkable for their _embonpoint_. The expression of their countenance is very good-humored, and their condition seems a happy one. Their dress consists of a coarse stuff, very scanty (manufactured by the Sakarran Dyaks), reaching from the waist to the knee; around the waist they have rings of ratan, either black or red, and the loins are hung round with a number of brass ornaments made by their husbands. Above the waist they are entirely naked, nor do they wear any covering or ornament on the head. They have a few bracelets of brass, but neither ear-rings nor nose-rings; and some, more lucky than the rest, wear a necklace of beads. They prefer the smallest Venetian beads to the larger and more gaudy ones of England. The labor of the house, and all the drudgery, falls on the females. They grind the rice, carry burdens, fetch water, fish, and work in the fields; but though on a par with other savages in this respect, they have many advantages. They are not immured; they eat in company with the males; and, in most points, hold the same position toward their husbands and children as European women. The children are entirely naked; and the only peculiarity I observed is filing their teeth to a sharp point, like those of a shark. The men marry but one wife, as I have before observed. Concubinage is unknown; and cases of seduction or adultery very seldom arise. Even the Malays speak highly of the chastity of the Dyak women; yet they are by no means shy under the gaze of strangers, and used to bathe before us in a state of nudity. "That these Dyaks are in a low condition there is no doubt; but, comparatively, theirs is an innocent state, and I consider them capable of being easily raised in the scale of society. The absence of all prejudice regarding diet, the simplicity of their characters, the purity of their morals, and their present ignorance of all forms of worship and all idea of future responsibility, render them open to conviction of truth and religious impression. Yet, when I say this, I mean, of course, only when their minds shall have been raised by education; for without previous culture I reckon the labors of the missionary as useless as endeavoring to read off a blank paper. I doubt not but the Sibnowan Dyaks would readily receive missionary families among them, provided the consent of the Rajah Muda Hassim was previously obtained. That the rajah would consent I much doubt; but if any person chose to reside at Tungong, for the charitable purpose of leading the tribe gradually, by means of education, to the threshold of Christianity, it would be worth the asking, and I would exert what influence I possess with him on the occasion. I feel sure a missionary would be safe among them, as long as he strictly confined himself to the gentle precepts and practice of his faith; he would live abundantly and cheaply, and be exposed to no danger except from the incursion of hostile tribes, which must always be looked for by a sojourner amid a Dyak community. "I must add, that this day, when so many of my friends are destroying partridges, I have had my gun in my hand, to procure a few specimens. "_2d._--To continue my account of the Sibnowan Dyaks. I made particular inquiry about the superstition stated to exist regarding birds, and the omens said to be drawn from their flight; but I could trace no vestige of such a belief, nor did they seem at all acquainted with its existence. The government of the Sibnowans may be called patriarchal. The authority of the chief appears limited within very narrow bounds; he is the leader in war, and the dispenser of the laws; but possesses no power of arbitrary punishment, and no authority for despotic rule. The distinction between Sejugah and the lowest of his tribe is not great, and rather a difference of riches than of power. A few ornamented spears, presented by the Malays, seem his only insignia of office; and these were never displayed in our presence, save in the dance. The chiefship would appear to be elective, and not hereditary; but I could not distinctly understand whether the appointment rested with the rajah or the tribe. The former claims it; but the latter did not speak as though his right were a matter of necessity or certainty. On asking Kalong, the eldest son of Sejugah (a young man of twenty years of age, active, clever, and intelligent), whether he would succeed his father, he replied, he feared he was not _rich _ enough; but two or three of the tribe, who were present, asserted that he would be made chief. The Rajah Muda Hassim told me that the only hold he had on the Dyaks was through the chief and his family, who were attached to him; but that the tribe at large cared nothing for the Malays. I can easily believe this, as any ill treatment or cruelty directed against a Dyak community would soon drive them beyond the power and the territory of the prince. This is the best safeguard of the Dyaks; and the Malays are well aware that a Dyak alliance must be maintained by good treatment. They are called subjects and slaves; but they are subjects at pleasure, more independent and better used than any Malay under his native prince. "The laws of this Dyak tribe are administered by the chief and the two principal men. They have no fixed code, nor any standard of punishment, each case of crime being judged according to its enormity. In the event of murder in their own tribe, the murderer suffers death by decapitation, _provided he be in fault_. Theft is punished by fine, and adultery (stated as a heinous offense) by severe beating and heavy mulct [7]. Other crimes are, in like manner, punished by fine and beating--one or both, according to their various shades of evil. The latter varies greatly in degree, sometimes being inflicted on the head or arm, with a severity which stops short only of death. The arm is often broken under this infliction; so, according to their representation, it is a risk to be dreaded and avoided. "Slavery holds among them; and, as among the Malays, a debtor is reduced to this state until his debt be discharged. Children are likewise bought, and must be considered as slaves. "In the evening I requested Sejugah to collect his tribe, and to show me their dances and musical instruments. They readily consented, and about nine at night we went to witness the exhibition. The musical instruments were, the tomtom, or drum, and the Malayan gong; which were beat either slow or fast, according to the measure of the dance. The dances are highly interesting, more especially from their close resemblance, if not identity, with those of the South Sea Islanders. Two swords were placed on the mat, and two men commenced slowly, from the opposite extremities, turning the body, extending the arms, and lifting the legs, in grotesque but not ungraceful attitudes. Approaching thus leisurely round and round about, they at length seize the swords, the music plays a brisker measure, and the dancers pass and repass each other, now cutting, now crossing swords, retiring and advancing, one kneeling as though to defend himself from the assaults of his adversary; at times stealthily waiting for an advantage, and quickly availing himself of it. The measure throughout was admirably kept, and the frequent turns were simultaneously made by both dancers, accompanied by the same eccentric gestures. The effect of all this far surpasses the impression to be made by a meager description. The room partially lighted by damar torches; the clang of the noisy instruments; the crowd of wild spectators; their screams of encouragement to the performers; the flowing hair and rapid evolutions of the dancers, formed a scene I wish could have been reduced to painting by such a master as Rembrandt or Caravaggio. The next dance was performed by a single person, with a spear, turning like the last; now advancing, retiring, poising, brandishing, or pretending to hurl his weapon. Subsequently we had an exhibition with the sword and shield, very similar to the others, and only differing in the use of the weapons; and the performance was closed by a long and animated dance like the first, by two of the best performers. "The dance with the spear is called Talambong; that with the sword, Mancha. The resemblance of these dances to those of the South Seas is, as I have observed, a remarkable and interesting fact, and one of many others which may, in course of time, elucidate the probable theory that the two people are sprung from a common source. The Malays of Sarawak, and other places in the neighborhood of the Dyak tribes, dance these dances; but they are unknown to Borneo Proper, and the other Malay islands; and although the names may be given by the Malays, I think there is no doubt that the dances themselves belong to the Dyaks: a correcter judgment can be formed by a better acquaintance with other Dyak tribes. "The household utensils in use here are few and simple. The mode of grinding padi clear of the husk is through the trunk of a tree cut into two parts, the upper portion being hollow, the lower solid; small notches are cut where the two pieces fit, and handles attached to the upper part, which being filled with padi and kept turning round, the husk is detached and escapes by the notches. "The Dyaks, as is well known, are famous for the manufacture of iron. The forge here is of the simplest construction, and formed by two hollow trees, each about seven feet high, placed upright, side by side, in the ground; from the lower extremity of these, two pipes of bamboo are led through a clay-bank, three inches thick, into a charcoal fire; a man is perched at the top of the trees, and pumps with two pistons (the suckers of which are made of cocks' feathers), which being raised and depressed alternately, blow a regular stream of air into the fire. Drawings were taken of these and other utensils and instruments. The canoes are not peculiar, but the largest prahus (some forty feet long, with a good beam) are constructed, in the first place, exactly like a small canoe: a single tree is hollowed out, which forms the keel and kelson, and on this foundation the rest of the prahu is built with planks, and her few timbers fastened with ratans. A prahu of fifty feet long, fitted for service, with oars, mast, attops, &c., was ordered by the Panglima Rajah while we were with him, which, completed, was to cost thirty reals, or sixty Java rupees, or £6 English. During the course of the day we ascended the river to visit the settlement of Chinese lately established here. It is situated about two and a half miles up the river, on the same side as Tungong, and consists of thirty men (real Chinese), and five women of the mixed breed of Sambas. Nothing can be more flourishing than this infant settlement, and I could hardly credit their statement that it had only been formed between four and five months. The soil they represented as most excellent, and none are better judges; many acres were cleared and under cultivation; rice, sirih, sweet potatoes (convolvulus), Indian corn, &c., &c., were growing abundantly; and they were able to supply us with seven pecul, or 933 pounds of sweet potatoes, without sensibly diminishing their crop. They showed me samples of birds' nests, bees' wax, garu wood (lignum aloes), and ebony, collected in the vicinity, chiefly from Gunong Gading. Several peculs of birds' nests and bees' wax, and the wood in large quantity, could _now_ be brought to market; and no doubt, when demand stimulates industry, the quantities would greatly increase. The Dyaks, they told me, collected ratans, and likewise canes, which are plentiful. The mixed breed of the Chinese with the Malay or Dyak are a good-looking and industrious race, partaking much more of the Chinese character than that of the natives of this country. This mainly arises from education and early-formed habits, which are altogether Chinese; and in religion and customs they likewise follow, in a great measure, the paternal stock. The race are worthy of attention, as the future possessors of Borneo. The numbers of this people can not be stated, but it must amount to many thousand persons: 3000 were said to be on their way to the Borneon territory. "The head man of this settlement, a Chinese of Quantung, or Canton, but long resident in the vicinity of Sambas, gave me some valuable information respecting the Sarawak mountains. He had, with a considerable party of his countrymen, been employed there at the gold-mines, and he spoke of them as abundant, and of the ore as good. Tin they had not found, but thought it existed. Antimony ore was to be had in any quantities, and diamonds were likewise discovered. I mention these facts as coming from an intelligent Chinese, well able from experience to judge of the precious metals, and the probability of their being found. "_3d._--Night, as usual, set in with torrents of rain, which lasted until the morning: the days, however, are fine, though cloudy. Got sights in the afternoon; and, leaving our Dyak friends, we dropped down to the mouth of the river, where we slept. "_4th._--At 2 A.M. got under weigh for the Samatan river, which we reached at 8 A.M. I had been given to understand that the Lundu and Sibnowan Dyaks were to be found on this river; but on arriving, I was informed we must proceed to Seru, where we should see plenty of Dyaks. I accordingly started immediately after breakfast, and reached Seru after mid-day. Here we found a small Malay fishing village, with two or three stray Dyaks of the Sibnowan tribe; and, on inquiring, we were told by them that their country was far away. Being convinced that the Pangeran had dragged me all this distance to answer some purpose of his own, I re-embarked on the instant, and set off on my return to Lundu, indignant enough. However, I had the poor satisfaction of dragging them after me, and making them repent their trick, which I believe was nothing else than to visit the island of Talang Talang for turtles' eggs. We were pretty well knocked up by the time we reached Samatan, having been pulling thirteen hours, the greater part of the time under a burning sun. "The Samatan river, like the others, is inclosed in a bay choked with sand: the boat-passage is on the right-hand side, going in near Point Samatan. The sands are mostly dry at low water, and stretch out a considerable distance. There is a fishing station here, though not so large as at Seru, and the fish at both places are very plentiful, and are salted for exportation to Sambas, and along their own coast. Seru is a shallow creek; the village may consist of 50 or 60 inhabitants, and the sands stretch a long way out. We thus lost two days, through the cunning of our Malay attendant; and the only advantage gained is being enabled to fill up the details of our survey of this bay. "_5th._--The day consumed returning along the coast to the Lundu, and we did not reach Tungong till late. "_6th._--Remained at Tungong. Every impediment was thrown in my way to prevent my reaching the Lundu Dyaks; the distance was great, the tribe small and unsettled, there was little probability of finding them, &c. I would, however, have gone; but another cause had arisen of a more serious nature. My feet, from the heat of the sun, musqueto-bites, and cuts (for I foolishly went without shoes that unlucky day to Seru), had become so painful and inflamed that I felt great doubt whether, if I walked in pain to Lundu, I could come back again. With the best grace I could, I yielded the point; with a vow, however, never to have the same Pangeran again. I did _manage_ to be civil to him, from policy alone. He was superfluously kind and obliging. "_7th._--Left Tungong on our return to the vessel, and brought-to for the night at Tanjong Siri. In the evening I walked along the fine sandy beach as far as the entrance of the Sumpudin river. We saw many wild hogs; and on one occasion I was able to get within twenty yards of some ten of them together, among some large drift-wood. Just as I was crawling over a tree and balancing, I found myself confronted by these animals; but they were out of sight almost before I could cock my gun and fire. They were of a large size, and most of them we saw during the evening either dirty white, or white and black. At night, after we had retired to our quarters in the Pangeran's boat, she filled with water, and was near going down. The first intimation we had of it was the water wetting our mats on which we were sleeping. She was beached and baled out, and a hand kept baling all night, as they had laden her so deep that she leaked considerably. "_8th._--In the morning we got our anchor at daylight, and breakfasted on the island of Sumpudin. There are deer, hogs, and pigeons on Sumpudin Island; but what was more interesting to me was, the discovery of the wild nutmeg-tree in full flower, and growing to the height of twenty or thirty feet. The nutmegs lay in plenty under the trees, and are of considerable size, though elongated in shape, and tasteless, as usual in the wild sorts. While the East India Company were sending Captain Forest from their settlement of Balambangan as far as New Guinea in search of this plant, how little they dreamed of its flourishing so near them on the island of Borneo! The soil on which they grow is a yellowish clay, mixed with vegetable mould. I brought some of the fruit away with me. After breakfast, a breeze springing up, we sailed to the mouth of the Sarawak river, waited for the tide, and pushed on for the vessel, getting aboard about half past three in the morning. Our Malay attendants were left far, far behind, and there is little chance of their being here to-morrow, for their boats sail wretchedly." CHAPTER IV. Renewed intercourse with the Rajah.--Prospects of trade.--Ourang-outang, and other animals.--The two sorts of mias.--Description of the Rajah, his suite, and Panglimas, &c.--The character of the natives.--Leave Sarawak.--Songi Dyaks.--Visit Seriff Sahib.--Buyat tongue.--Attack by pirates.--Sail for Singapore. Having returned to Sarawak, Mr. Brooke renewed his intercourse with the rajah; and his Journal proceeds: "_Sept. 9th._--Visited the rajah; civil and polite--I ought indeed to say friendly and kind. Der Macota was on board, speaking on the trade, and very anxious for me to arrange the subject with the rajah. I could only say, that I would do so if the rajah wished, as I believed it would be greatly for the benefit of their country and Singapore. "_10th._--Laid up with my bad legs, and hardly able to crawl. Muda Hassim presented us with another bullock, which we salted. At Lundu we bought eight pigs, which arrived to-day in charge of Kalong, the young Dyak. He is a fine fellow. I gave him a gun, powder-flask, powder, &c. He was truly delighted. Our Pangerans arrived at the same time. "_11th._--Very bad; got a novel, and read all day. Went ashore to see Muda Hassim in the evening. He gave us a private audience: and we finished our discussion respecting the trade, and I think successfully. "I began by saying, that I as a private gentleman, unconnected with commerce, could have no personal interest in what I was about to speak; that the rajah must clearly understand that I was in no way connected with the government of Singapore, and no way authorized to act for them: that he must, therefore, look upon it merely as my private opinion, and act afterward as his wisdom thought fit. I represented to him that the kingdom of Borneo was the last Malay state possessing any power, and that this might be in a great measure attributed to the little intercourse they had had with European powers. I thought it highly advisable to call into play the resources of his country, by opening a trade with individual European merchants. Sarawak, I stated, was a rich place, and the territory around produced many valuable articles for a commercial intercourse--bees-wax, birds-nests, rattans, beside large quantities of antimony ore and sago, which might be considered the staple produce of the country. In return for these, the merchants of Singapore could send goods from Europe or China which his people required, such as gunpowder, muskets, cloths, &c.; and both parties would thus be benefited by their commercial interchange of commodities. I conceived that Singapore was well fitted for trade with this place. The rajah must not suppose I was desirous of excluding other nations from trading here, or that I wished he should trade with the English alone; on the contrary, I thought that the Americans, the French, or any other nation, should be admitted on the same terms as the English. "Of course, I was not allowed to proceed without much questioning and discussion; many of the views were urged and re-urged, to remove their false notions. That Mr. Bonham had the supreme command of the trade of Singapore was the prominent one; and when he died, or was removed, would not the next governor alter all kind intentions and acts? 'What friend should they have at Singapore then?' "Again they thought that a few ships might come at first; but then they would deceive them, and not come again. It was very difficult to explain, that if they procured cargoes at an advantageous rate, they would come here for their own benefit; if not, of course it would not be worth their while to come at all. The entire discussion proceeded with the utmost good-will and politeness. "That the political ascendency of the English is paramount here is apparent. They might if they pleased, by means of an offensive and defensive alliance between the two powers, gain the entire trade of the northwest coast of Borneo, from Tanjong Datu to Malludu Bay. "I obtained subsequently from Macota the following list of imports and exports; which I here commit to paper, for the information of those whom it may concern. "_From Singapore._--Iron; salt, Siam; nankeen; Madras, Europe, and China cotton cloth, coarse and fine; Bugis and Pulicat sarongs; gold and other threads, of sorts and colors; brass wire, of sizes; iron pans from Siam, called qualis; chintzes, of colors and sorts; coarse red broadcloth, and other sorts of different colors; China crockery; gunpowder; muskets; flints; handkerchiefs (Pulicat and European); gambir; dates; Java tobacco; soft sugar; sugar-candy; biscuits; baharri; common decanters; glasses, &c. &c.; China silk, of colors; ginghams; white cottons; nails; beside other little things, such as Venetian beads; ginger; curry-powder; onions; ghee; &c. &c. "The returns from Sarawak are now: antimony ore, sago, timber (lackah, garu), rattans, Malacca canes, bees-wax, birds-nests, rice, &c. Other articles, such as gold, tin, &c. &c., Macota said, would be procured after the war, but at present he need say nothing of them; the articles above mentioned might subsequently be greatly increased by demand; and, in short, as every person of experience knows, in a wild country a trade must be fostered at first. "To the foregoing list I must add, pipeclay, vegetable tallow, which might be useful in commerce, being of fine quality; and the ore, found in abundance round here, of which I can make nothing, but which I believe to be copper. "_12th._--I received from the rajah a present of an ourang-outang, young, and like others I have seen, but better clothed, with fine long hair of a bright chestnut color. The same melancholy which characterizes her race is apparent in Betsy's face; and though but just caught, she is quite quiet unless teased. "From the man who brought Betsy I procured a _Lemur tardigradus_, called by the Malays _Cucan_, not _Poucan_, as written in Cuvier--Marsden has the name right in his dictionary--and at the same time the mutilated hand of an ourang-outang of _enormous_ size. This hand far exceeds in length, breadth, and power, the hand of any man in the ship; and though smoked and shrunk, the circumference of the fingers is half as big again as an ordinary human finger. The natives of Borneo call the ourang-outang the _Mias_, of which they say there are two distinct sorts; one called the _Mias rombi_ (similar to the specimen aboard and the two in the Zoological Gardens), and the _Mias pappan_, a creature far larger, and more difficult to procure. To the latter kind the hand belongs. The mias pappan is represented to be as tall or taller than a man, and possessing vast strength: the face is fuller and larger than that of the mias rombi, and the hair reddish, but sometimes approaching to black. The mias rombi never exceeds four or four and a half feet; his face, unlike the pappan, is long, and his hair redder. I must own myself inclined to this opinion from various reasons:--1st. The natives appear so well agreed on the point, and so well acquainted with the distinction and the different names, that it is impossible to suppose it a fabrication for our peculiar use. Of the many whom I asked respecting them, at different times and in different places, the greater part of their own accord mentioned the difference between the mias pappan and the mias rombi. The animal when brought aboard was stated to be the mias rombi, or small sort. In short, the natives, whether right or wrong, make the distinction. 2d. The immense size of the hand in my possession, the height of the animal killed on the coast of Sumatra, and the skull in the Paris Museum, can scarcely be referred to an animal such as we know at home; though by specious analogical reasoning, the great disparity of the skulls has been pronounced the result merely of age. "However, facts are wanting, and these facts I doubt not I can soon procure, if not actual proof; and whichever way it goes, in favor of Buffon's Pongo or not, I shall be contented, so that I bring truth to light. "_19th._--From the 12th to the 19th of September we lay, anxious to be off, but delayed by some trifling occurrence or other, particularly for the letters which I was to receive for the merchants of Singapore. Our intercourse the whole time was most friendly and frequent; almost daily I was ashore, and the rajah often visited the vessel. How tedious and _ennuyant_ to me can only be known by those who know me well, and how repugnant these trammels of society and ceremony are to nature. Nevertheless, I suffered this martyrdom with exemplary outward patience, though the spirit flagged, and the thoughts wandered, and the head often grew confused, with sitting and talking trifling nonsense, through a poor interpreter. "I here bid adieu to these kind friends, fully impressed with their kindness, and the goodness of their dispositions. To me they are far different from anything I was at all prepared to meet, and devoid of the vices with which their countrymen are usually stigmatized by modern writers. I expected to find an indolent and somewhat insolent people, devoted to sensual enjoyments, addicted to smoking opium, and eternally cock-fighting or gambling: let me speak it to the honor of the Borneons, that they neither cock-fight nor smoke opium; and in the military train of their rajah they find at Kuching few conveniences and fewer luxuries. Like all the followers of Islam, they sanction polygamy; and the number of their women, and, probably, the ease and cheerfulness of the seraglio, contrasted with the ceremonial of the exterior, induce them to pass a number of their hours amid their women, and excite habits of effeminacy and indolence. I should pronounce them indolent and unwarlike; but kind and unreserved to foreigners, particularly to Englishmen. They are volatile, generally speaking very ignorant, but by no means deficient in acuteness of understanding; and, indeed, their chief defects may be traced entirely to their total want of education, and the nature of their government. The lower orders of people are poor and wretched, and the freemen are certainly poorer and more wretched than the slaves. They are not greatly addicted to theft, and yet, unlike the scrupulous honesty of the Sibnowans, they pilfered some trifling articles occasionally when left in their way. The retainers of the court showed much the same mean intriguing spirit which is too often found in courts, and always in Eastern ones; and the rajah himself seldom requested any favor from me directly, but employed some intermediate person to sound me--to get whatever was required for himself if possible, if not for the rajah. I took the hint, and always expressed my wishes through the interpreter when not present myself. In this way we were enabled to grant or refuse without the chance of insult or offence. The suite of the rajah consists principally of slaves, either purchased or debtors: they are well treated, and rise to offices of some note. The Panglima rajah was a slave-debtor, though we did not know it for some time after our arrival. I never saw either cruelty or undue harshness exercised by the great men during my stay, and in general their manners were affable and kind to those about them. The Rajah Muda Hassim is a remarkably short man, and slightly built; about 45 years of age; active and intelligent, but apparently little inclined to business. His disposition I formed the highest estimate of, not only from his kindness to myself, but from the testimony of many witnesses, all of whom spoke of him with affection, and gave him the character of a mild and gentle master. Muda Hassim's own brother, Muda Mahammed, is a reserved and sulky man, but they spoke well of him; and the rajah said he was a good man, but given to fits of sulkiness. "Der Macota, unlike other Malays, neither smokes tobacco nor chews sirih. He sought our society, and was the first person who spoke to me on the subject of the trade. His education has been more attended to than that of others of his rank. He both reads and writes his own language, and is well acquainted with the government, laws, and customs of Borneo. From him I derived much information on the subject of the Dyaks, and the geography of the interior; and if I have failed to put it down, it is because I have not departed from my general rule of never giving any native statements unless they go far to verify my own actual observations. I parted from the rajah with regret, some six or seven miles down the river. Never was such a blazing as when we left Sarawak; twenty-one guns I fired to the rajah, and he fired forty-two to me--at least we counted twenty-four, and they went on firing afterward, as long as ever we were in sight. The last words the Rajah Muda Hassim said, as I took my leave, were--'Tuan Brooke, do not forget me.' "Among the curiosities in my possession are spears, swords, and shields, from various tribes; a coat of mail, made to the northward of Borneo, and worn by the pirates; specimens of Sakarran Dyak manufacture of cloth, and Sarebus ditto; ornaments and implements of the Sibnowans; and, last not least, a gold-handled kris, presented me by the rajah, which formerly belonged to his father, and which he constantly wore himself. I likewise presented him with a small English dagger, with a mother-of-pearl handle; and my favor was so high with him, that he used always to wear my gift, and I, to return the compliment, wore his. "The climate of Sarawak is good, and is seldom hot: the last eight or ten days were oppressive, but until then we could sleep with a blanket, and seldom found it too warm in the day. Rain at this season falls in great quantities; and from imprudence, our crew suffered on their first arrival from colds and rheumatism; but getting more careful, we had latterly no sick-list. "Farewell to Sarawak! I hope to see it again; and have obtained a promise from the rajah that he will go with me to Borneo, and show me every part of the country by the way. "I may here state the result of some inquiries I have made respecting the government of Borneo. The form of government may be considered aristocratic rather than oligarchical: it is ruled by the sultan, but his power is kept in check by four great officers of government. These are, the Rajah Muda Hassim, the Bandar, in whose hands is the government of the country; Pangeran Mumin, the Degadon, the treasurer, or, as Mr. Hunt says, controller of the household of the sultan; Pangeran Tizudeen, Tumangong, or commander-in-chief; and Pangeran Kurmaindar, the Pen-damei, or mediator and interceder. This officer is the means of communication or mediation between the sultan and his Pangerans; and in case of condemnation, he sues for the pardon or mercy of his sovereign. Mr. Hunt, in his short but excellent paper on Borneo, mentions some other officers of state: I will not follow him, but in the names, as well as duties of these officers, his account agrees with my information. Further than this, I have not yet learned, therefore state not; for I am not _manufacturing_ a book, but gaining information. I may add, however, that these offices are elective, and not hereditary: as far as I yet know, I am inclined to believe the election rests with the chief Pangerans of the state; not only those in office, but others. When I reach Borneo I can procure more ample details. "_23d._--Quitted the Royalist at the entrance of the Morotaba, and accompanied by Pangerans Subtu and Illudeen, set sail for the river Sadung. "The town called Songi is of considerable size, and the entire population along the river may certainty be reckoned at from 2000 to 3000 persons, independent of Dyaks. The country has a flourishing aspect, but the soil is represented as bad, being soft and muddy. There is a good deal of trade from this river, and it annually sends several large prahus to Singapore: two were lying off the town when we arrived, and two others had sailed for that place twenty days before. The produce of the country is bees-wax, birds'-nests, rice, &c. &c., but they seem to be procured in less abundance than in the other contiguous rivers. There is nothing peculiar about the Malay population, except that, generally speaking, it struck me, they appeared better off than the people of Sarawak, or others I have visited hereabouts. We ascended the river by night, anchored a short distance from the Songi, in a tide-way like a sluice, and entered the smaller river shortly after daylight. Having sent the Pangerans ahead to advise Seriff Sahib of our arrival, we pulled slowly up to the campong of the Data Jembrong, where we brought up to breakfast. Data Jembrong is a native of Mindanao, an Illanun and a pirate; he is slightly advanced in years, but stout and resolute-looking, and of a most polite demeanor--as oily-tongued a cut-throat as a gentleman would wish to associate with. He spoke of his former life without hesitation, and confessed himself rather apprehensive of going to Singapore. He was remarkably civil, and sent us a breakfast of some fruit, salt fish, stale turtles' eggs, and coffee sweetened with syrup; but spite of all this, his blood-thirsty education and habits prejudiced me against him. Breakfast finished, we went forward to visit Seriff Sahib, who received us in an open hall; promised to get us as many animals as he could now; regretted our short stay, and assured me he would collect more by the time I returned. Among these is to be a mias pappan, living or dead. I at the same time offered ten dollars for the skeleton belonging to the hand already in my possession, and a less sum for the parts. Being the first Europeans Seriff Sahib had ever met, he was rather puzzled to know what we were like; but we had every reason to be satisfied with his kindness and the civility of his people: the inhabitants, though crowding to see us, are by no means intrusive, and their curiosity is too natural to be harshly repressed. I need hardly remark here how very erroneously the position of the Sadung river is laid down in the charts, it being placed in the bay, to the westward of Santobong, and nearly in the position of the Samatan river. "_25th._--The last night was passed off Datu Jembrong's house, and I left him with a firm impression that he is still a pirate, or at any rate connected with them. He resides generally at Tawarron, to the northward of Borneo Proper, where his wives and children now are, and he has come here to superintend the building of a prahu. The people about him speak of his pursuits without disguise, and many informed us the prahu near his house is intended for a piratical vessel. Nothing could exceed the polite kindness of our rascally host, and I spent the rainy evening in his house with some satisfaction, acquiring information of the coast to the northward, which he is well able to give. "In the morning we dropped down with the last of the ebb to the mouth of the Songi, and took the young flood to proceed up the Sadung. Beyond the point of junction with the Songi the Sadung retains an average breadth of from three-quarters of a mile to a mile. The banks continue to be partially cleared, with here and there a few Dyaks residing in single families or small communities on their ladangs or farms. The Dyak campong, which terminated our progress up the stream, consists of three moderately long houses inhabited by Sibnowans. The manners, customs, and language of the Sibnowans of the Sadung are the same as those of their Lundu brethren; they are, however, a wilder people, and appear poor. Like other Dyaks, they had a collection of heads hanging before the entrance of their chief's private apartments. Some of these heads were fresh, and, with the utmost _sang-froid_, they told us they were women's. They declared, however, they never took any heads but those of their enemies, and these women (unhappy creatures) had belonged to a distant tribe. The fresh heads were ornamented with fowl's feathers, and suspended rather conspicuously in separate rattan frames of open work. They professed themselves willing to go with me up the river to the mountains; and on the way, they informed me, were some large Malay towns, beside some more campongs of their own countrymen. Farther up they enumerated some twenty tribes of Dyaks, whose names I thought it useless to preserve. Late in the evening we set off on our return, and anchored once again near Datu Jembrong's house. "_26th._--Again visited Seriff Sahib. His name and descent are Arabic; his father, an Arab, having married a daughter of the Borneo Rajah. The Malays evidently honor this descent, and consider his birth very high. His power, they say, equals his family; as he is, in some measure, independent; and were he to instigate the Sadung country to take arms against Borneo, it is very probable he would overthrow the government, and make himself Sultan of Borneo. In person, this noble partakes much of his father's race, both in height and features, being tall and large, with a fine nose and contour of face. His manners are reserved but kind; and he looks as if too indolent to care much about acquiring power; too fat for an active traitor, though a dangerous man to oppress. We were the first Europeans he had ever seen; but, on our second visit, he lost much of his previous reserve, and was curious in examining our arms and accoutrements. We, as usual, _exchanged_ presents; mine consisting of some nankeen, red cloth, knife, scissors, and handkerchief; while he gave me the shield of a great Kayan warrior, a Bukar spear, a goat, fowls, and our dinner and breakfast daily. He promised me specimens of the arms of all the Dyak tribes, and plenty of animals, particularly my much-desired mias pappan; and I, in return, agreed to bring him two small tables, six chairs, and a gun. Subsequently to our interview he sent me a tattooed Dyak, the first I had seen. The lines, correctly and even elegantly laid in, of a blue color, extended from the throat to his feet. I gained but little information; yet the history of the poor man is curious, and similar to that of many other unfortunates. He represented himself as a chief among his own people in the country of Buyat, five days' journey up the Cotringen river (_vulgo_ Coti river). Going in his canoe from the latter place to Banjamassim, he was captured by Illanun pirates, with whom he was in bondage for some time, but ultimately sold as a slave to a resident of Sadung. It was now five years since he became first captive; but having lately got money enough to buy his liberty, he is again a freeman; and having married, and turned to the religion of Islam, desires no longer to revisit his native country. The language of the tribe of Buyat he represents as entirely Malay. I made him a small present for the trouble I had given him, and he departed well content. "About three o'clock in the afternoon we had a heavy thunder-storm, with lightning as vivid as the tropics produce. Torrents of rain descended, and continued a great part of the night; but, sheltered by our kajangs or mats, we managed to keep tolerably dry. Indeed, the voyager on this coast must be prepared for exposure to heavy rains, and considerable detention from thick and cloudy weather. The latter obstruction, of little moment or even agreeable to those making a passage, is a cause of much vexation in surveying the coast, as for days together no observations are to be had. "_27th._--About 7 A. M. we quitted Songi, and dropped down as far as Tanjong Balaban, a low point forming the larboard entrance into the Sadung river, and bounding the bay, which lies between it and Tanjong Sipang. Coming to this point gave us a good offing for our return, and enabled me to take a round of angles to finish the survey as far as this point and Pulo Burong, which lies off it. We crossed over the sand flats with a light breeze, and reached the Royalist at 4 P.M. In the evening the Datu Jembrong, who had preceded us from Sadung, spent the evening aboard. He expressed his willingness to accompany me next season: whether I shall take him is another question; but, could he be trusted, his services might be highly useful. "Our Pangerans arrived early this morning from Sadung; and to-morrow was fixed for our departure, when an unforeseen occurrence caused a farther detention. The day passed quietly: in the evening I was ashore, and took leave of the Pangerans Subtu and Illudeen, who returned to Sarawak, leaving the Panglima Rajah to pilot us out. The first part of the night was dark; and the Panglima in his prahu, with twelve men, lay close to the shore, and under the dark shadow of the hill. About nine, the attention of the watch on deck was attracted by some bustle ashore, and it soon swelled to the wildest cries; the only word we could distinguish, however, being 'Dyak! Dyak!' All hands were instantly on deck. I gave the order to charge and fire a gun with a blank cartridge, and in the mean time lit a blue light. The gig was lowered, a few muskets and cutlasses thrown into her, and I started in the hope of rescuing our poor Malay friends. The vessel meanwhile was prepared for defence; guns loaded, boarding-nettings ready for running up, and the people at quarters; for we were ignorant of the number, the strength, or even the description of the assailants. I met the Panglima's boat pulling toward the vessel, and returned with her, considering it useless and rash to pursue the foe. The story is soon told. A fire had been lit on the shore; and after the people had eaten, they anchored their boat, and, according to their custom, went to sleep. The fire had probably attracted the roving Sarebus Dyaks, who stole upon them, took them by surprise, and would inevitably have cut them off but for our presence. They attacked the prahu fiercely with their spears; five out of twelve jumped into the water, and swam ashore; and the Panglima Rajah was wounded severely. When our blue light was seen they desisted; and directly the gun fired, paddled away fast. We never saw them. The poor Panglima walked aboard with a spear fixed in his breast, the barb being buried, and a second rusty spear-wound close to the first; the head of the weapon was cut out, his wounds dressed, and he was put to bed. Another man had a wound from a wooden-headed spear; and most had been struck more or less by these rude and, luckily, innocuous weapons. A dozen or two of Dyak spears were left in the Malay boat, which I got. Some were well-shaped, with iron heads; but the mass simply pieces of hard wood sharp-pointed, which they hurl in great numbers. Fire-arms the Dyaks had none, and during the attack made no noise whatever; while the Malays, on the contrary, shouted lustily, some perhaps from bravery, most from terror. The force that attacked them was differently stated; some said the boat contained eighty or a hundred men, others rated the number as low as fifty; and, allowing for an exaggeration, perhaps there might have been thirty-five--not fewer, from the number of spears thrown. Being fully prepared, we set our watch, and retired as usual to our beds; the stealthy and daring attack, right under the guns of the schooner, having given me a lesson to keep the guns charged in future. The plan was well devised; for we could not fire without the chance of hitting our friends as well as foes, and the deep shadow of the hill entirely prevented our seeing the assailants. "_29th._--I considered it necessary to dispatch a boat to Sarawak to acquaint the rajah with the circumstance of the attack made on his boat. The wound of the Panglima was so severe, that in common humanity I was obliged to wait until all danger for him was past. He was soon well; and, as with natives in general, his wound promises favorably; to a European constitution a similar wound would be imminently dangerous. "_30th._--Took the long boat, and sounded along the edge of the sand; soundings very regular. In the evening Mr. Williamson returned in the gig, and a host of Pangerans; the Pangeran Macota at the head. He urged me much to go and see Muda Hassim. The rajah, he said, desired it so much, and would think it so kind, that I consented to go up to-morrow. I am very desirous to fix their good feelings toward us: and I was prompted by curiosity to see the rajah's _ménage_ as his guest. "_October 1st._--We had a heavy pull against tide, and arrived at Sarawak about 4 P.M. We had eaten nothing since breakfast at 8; and we had to sit and talk, and drink tea and smoke, till 8 in the evening; then dinner was announced, and we retired to the private apartments--my poor men came willingly too! The table was laid _à l'Anglaise_, a good curry and rice, grilled fowls, and a bottle of wine. We did justice to our cheer; and the rajah, throwing away all reserve, bustled about with the proud and pleasing consciousness of having given us an English dinner in proper style; now drawing the wine; now changing our plates; pressing us to eat; saying, 'You are at home.' Dinner over, we sat, and drank, and smoked, and talked cheerfully, till, tired and weary, we expressed a wish to retire, and were shown to a private room. A crimson silk mattress, embroidered with gold, was my couch: it was covered with white gold-embroidered mats and pillows. Our men fared equally well, and enjoyed their wine, a luxury to us; our stock of wine and spirits having been expended some time. "_2d._--Once more bade adieu to our kind friends; reached the vessel at 4 P.M., and got under weigh directly. At dusk anchored in the passage between the sands. "_3d._--Five A.M. under weigh. Clear of the sands about mid-day, and shaped our course for Singapore. "_4th._--Strong breeze from w.s.w. Beating from leeward of Datu to Pulo Murrundum, in a nasty chop of a head sea." CHAPTER V. Summary of information obtained during this visit to Borneo.--Geographical and topographical observations.--Produce.--Various Dyak tribes.--Natural history.--Language.--Origin of Races.--Sail from Singapore.--Celebes.--Face of the country.--Waterfall. Mr. Brooke's journal continues his observations on the people and country he had just left; and, I need hardly say, communicates much of novelty and interest in his own plain and simple manner. "_Oct. 5th._--Just laying our course. I may here briefly recapitulate the information acquired during the last two months and a half. Beginning from Tanjong Api, we have delineated the coast as far as Tanjong Balaban, fixing the principal points by chronometer and observation, and filling in the details by personal inspection. The distance, on a line drawn along the headlands, may be from 120 to 130 miles, the entire coast being previously quite unknown. "Within this space are many fine rivers, and some navigable for vessels of considerable burden, and well calculated for the extension of commerce, such as Sarawak, Morotaba, and Sadung. The others, equally fine streams, are barred, but offer admirable means for an easy inland communication; these are the Quop, Boyur, Riam, Samarahan, Lundu, Samatan, &c. In our excursions into the interior of the island, most of these streams have been ascended to a distance of 25 or 30 miles, and some further. We traced the Samarahan river for 70 or 80 miles from its mouth, and passed through portions of the intermediate streams of the Riam, Quop, and Boyur. The Morotaba, which is but another mouth of the Sarawak, we passed through several times from the sea to its junction with that river. The Lundu and Sadung rivers were likewise ascended to the distance of near 30 miles; and plans of all these rivers have been taken as accurately as circumstances would permit, by observations of the latitude and longitude, and various points, and an eye-sketch of the distance of each reach and the compass bearing. The entrances into the Sarawak and Morotaba were carefully examined, and the former accurately laid down. The productions of the country attracted our attention, and the articles best fitted for commerce have been already enumerated. Among these are, first, minerals; say gold, tin, probably copper, antimony-ore, and fine white clay for pipes. Secondly, woods of the finest descriptions, for ship-building, and other purposes; besides aloes wood (_lignum aloes_), and arang or ebony wood, canes, and ratans. To these may be added, among vegetable productions, sago, compon, rice, &c., &c. "The wild nutmeg was found growing on the islands of Sadung and Sumpudin in abundance and perfection, proving that by cultivation it might be brought into the market as cheap, and probably as good, as those produced in the Moluccas. We have various specimens of ores and stones, which, on being tested, may prove valuable commodities. Among these is decomposed granite rock (I believe), containing minute particles of what we conceive to be gold, and an ore believed to be copper. Besides the articles above enumerated, are birds' nests and bees' wax in considerable quantities, and others not worth detailing here. We have been able, during our residence with the Borneons, to continue on the most friendly terms with them, and to open a field of research for our subsequent inquiries in the proper season. My attention has been anxiously directed to acquiring a knowledge of the Dyak tribes; and for this purpose I passed ten days among them at Lundu. I have made such vocabularies of the language of the Sibnowans and Lundus as my means allowed; and a further addition of their various dialects will furnish, I conceive, matters of high importance to those interested in tracing the emigration of nations. I may here briefly notice, that the nation of Kayans, included under the common denomination of Dyak, are a tattooed race, who use the sumpitan, or blow-pipe; while the other Dyak tribes (which are very numerous) are not tattooed, and never use the blow-pipe. "The arms and instruments of many tribes are in my possession; and among the Sibnowans I had the opportunity of becoming acquainted with their habits, customs, and modes of living. "The appellation of the Dyak tribes near the coast is usually the same as the rivers from which they originally came. The Dyaks of Sibnow come from the river of that name, just beyond Balaban Point, though large communities are dispersed on the Lundu and the Sadung. The same may be said of the Sarebus tribe (the most predaceous and wild on the coast), which has powerful branches of the original stock on the Skarran river. Beyond Point Balaban is a bay--between that point and Point Samaludum; the first river is the Sibnow; the next the Balonlupon, which branches into the rivers of Sakarran and Linga; passing Tanjong Samaludum you come to the two islands of Talison; and between it and the next point, or Banting Marron, lies the Sarebus river. Between Banting Marron and Tanjong Siri are the Kaleka river, a high mountain called Maban, and then Rejong, the chief river of the Kayans. I may here likewise correct some of the statements and names usually current in England. The Idaan, represented as a Dyak tribe, are a hill people, and probably not Dyaks; and the name Marat is applied by the natives of Borneo to the various wild tribes, Dyaks and others, without any specific meaning. "In natural history the expedition has done as much as was in its power, by forming collections of birds, animals, and reptiles; but these collections are as small as our means. Specimens of woods and seeds have been preserved; but the season was not the proper one for flowers, as very few indeed were seen. The specimen of the hand of the mias pappan and the head of an adult mias rombi will, I believe, go far to establish the existence of an animal similar to the Pongo of the Count Buffon. I have little doubt that I shall be able in the ensuing season to establish the fact, or set it at rest forever; though I confess myself greatly inclined to think that the former will be the case. I here leave the coast with an excellent prospect for the coming year; and I would not now have quitted it so soon, but for the want of provisions, added to which, the change of the monsoon, bringing squally and dark weather, greatly interferes with our further progress in surveying. "_Nov. 22d, 1839._--The Malayan language has been compared to the _lingua franca_ of Europe. They are both, indeed, used by various nations in their commercial transactions; but, beyond this, nothing can be more unjust or absurd than the comparison. The _lingua franca_ is a jargon compounded at random, devoid of grammar or elegance; the Malayan, on the contrary, is musical, simple in its construction, and well calculated for the expression of poetry. It boasts many dialects, like the Italian, of superior softness, and, like the Italian, it is derived from many sources, refining all to the most liquid sounds by the addition of a final vowel. I fully concur with Mr. Marsden in his opinion that the Malayan tongue, though derived from the Sanscrit, the Arabic, the Hindoostani, &c., &c., is based on the language which he calls the Polynesian; a language which may be considered original (as far as we know), and which embraces so vast an extent of geographical surface. The proof of this rests mainly on the fact that the simple wants of man, as well as the most striking features of nature, are expressed in the Polynesian; while the secondary class of ideas is derived from the Sanscrit, or some other language, and usually grafted in a felicitous manner on the original stem. By an original language, I must be understood, however, to mean only a language which can not be derived from any other known tongue. I seek not to trace the language of Noah, or to raise a theory which shall derive the finished and grammatical Sanscrit, the pure and elegant Greek, from some barbarous stock, whether Celtic or Teutonic. Such inquiries are fitted for those with leisure and patience to undertake a hopeless task, and learning enough to achieve better things. When we look for the origin of languages we are lost, for those existing afford us no help. They present some affinities, as might be expected; but their discrepancies are irreconcilable; and, amid many equally good claims, who shall be able to demonstrate the only one which is right? Supposing even that all languages agreed as to primary ideas, it would be difficult to determine the original; but when this primary class of ideas is expressed by sounds entirely and totally different, the task becomes utterly hopeless, and the labor as vain as that of Sisyphus. Indeed, it would be very difficult to show how languages, derived from one stock, could possibly differ so far in their expression of the simplest ideas and wants as not to be mutually traceable: and truly, until this is done (which I conceive impossible), I am content to rest in the belief that there are more original languages _than one_--a conclusion agreeable to common sense, and consonant with the early history of the Hebrews. "To trace the original identity of distant races, and their early migrations, through the affinity of language, is indeed a limited task compared with the other, but one both feasible and useful. To further this labor, the smallest additional information is valuable; and the dialects of the rude people inhabiting the interior of the islands of Borneo and Celebes would be highly important. Previously, however, to instituting such a comparison, as far as in my power, I propose taking a brief glance at the different races whose languages may be included under the common name of Polynesian. "In the first place, the Malayan. Issuing from the interior of Sumatra, there is reason to conjecture, and even facts to prove, that originally the dialect of Menangkabau resembled the other dialects of its birthplace. The gradual extension of a warlike race gave a polish to the language; additional wants, increasing luxury, extended knowledge, and contact with the merchants of many Eastern nations, all combined to produce the Malayan in its present form. But, during the progress of this change, the radical Polynesian stock remained; and we find, consequently, that the words necessary to mankind in their earliest stage bear a striking and convincing resemblance to the dialects of Rejong and Lampung, in Sumatra. Subsequent improvements were largely adopted from the Sanscrit and the Arabic; but the fact of the primary ideas being expressed in the Polynesian must preclude the conclusion of either of these being the source whence the Malayan is derived, its improvement and extension being alone referable to them. Marsden positively states his inability to trace the Polynesian to any other Eastern language; and, at the same time, he has demonstrated, in what he considers a convincing manner, the identity of this language from Madagascar and the islands of the Pacific to the Philippines and Sumatra. "It may here be incidentally remarked, that while so many authors are endeavoring to prove that the Asiatic archipelago was peopled from the Western Continent, [8] they overlook the fact of the radical difference of language. Unless the roots of the language can be traced either to India, Cambodia, or other parts, it must follow, as a matter of course, that the islands were peopled at a time previous to the introduction of the language now spoken on the Continent; else how are we to account for the simple dialects of a rude people being radically distinct from the language of the mother country? If the Dyaks of Borneo and the Arafuras of Celebes and New Guinea speak a dialect of the Polynesian, it will go far to prove an original people as well as an original language, that is, as original as the Celtic, the Teutonic, the South American; original because not derived from any known source. "These brief remarks on the Malayan will, I believe, apply to the language of the Island of Java, which, equally improved and enlarged by the addition of Sanscrit and Arabic words, and differently modified, retains, nevertheless, its radical Polynesian stock and its distinct written character, as do likewise the dialects of the islands of Bally and Lombock. The districts of Rejong, Lampung, &c., in Sumatra, retain the original language in a much higher degree, possess distinctive written characters, and have little intermixture of Sanscrit or Arabic. Celebes, or Bugis-land, with a distinct language and character, will probably be found to follow the same rule; and the Philippines, including Mindanao, according to Marsden, possess the same language, though altered and modified into the Tagala tongue. "Madagascar, so far removed, exhibits in its language a dialect of Tagala, or, strictly speaking, of Polynesian; and the South Sea islands present striking and almost convincing proofs of the same origin. "The inquiry ought to be pushed to the languages of the Mexicans and Peruvians of South America; and, as far as our knowledge permits, their identity established or disproved; for the language of this by-gone people would go far toward tracing the course of emigration, it being evident that a strong argument would be raised in favor of the migration proceeding from east to west, if the language is common to South America and Sumatra, and not traceable to any country of the Continent of India. "It remains, however, to inquire into the language of the interior tribes of Borneo, Celebes, and New Guinea; and, on such inquiry, should they be found to possess the same primary roots as the rest, I believe the conclusion must ultimately be arrived at of the existence of a Polynesian language common to this vast geographical extent, and distinct from the languages of Asia. In tracing this identity, we can only, of course, find it in few instances in the cultivated Javanese and Malayan languages. Discrepancies must naturally be great from the intermixture, from early recorded times, of all languages in the archipelago; but, nevertheless, if the radical affinities be striking, they will be conclusive in establishing the original identity of all the races before mentioned; for, without this original identity, how can we account for these affinities of language? It may, indeed, be urged that this language has gradually crept into the dialects of Java and Menangkabau. But, in the first place, the affinities will be found in the very roots of the language--in the expressions for the primary and necessary ideas, which seldom alter in any people; in the next, there is a high degree of improbability in supposing a rude dialect to supplant a substantial portion of a more polished one; and, thirdly, we must not overlook the collateral evidence of the similarity of conformation pervading the entire race from Polynesia to the archipelago--distinct alike from the Caucasian and the Mongolian. "In tracing the identity of this language, we may reckon the dialects of the Dyaks of Borneo, &c., as the lowest step of the ladder; those of the Pacific islands next; and so through the dialects of Sumatra and Tagala, up to the Malayan and Javanese. For this purpose, a comparative view of all must be attained; and Eastern scholars should point out, when possible, the words taken from Sanscrit and other languages. For my own part, these remarks are made as a sketch to be enlarged on, and to assist in obtaining the vocabularies of the Dyaks and Arafuras. "_Dec. 6th._--In looking over Marsden's admirable Introduction to his Malayan Grammar, I find I have taken many of his views in the foregoing remarks; but I consider that his opinions may be pushed to conclusions more extended than he has ventured upon. Having described the 'exterior circumstance' of the Malayan language, he proceeds to point out those more original languages from whence we may presume it to be derived. "'The words of which it consists may be divided into three classes, and that two of these are Hindoo and Arabic has been generally admitted. The doubts that have arisen respect only the third, or that original and essential part which, to the Malayan, stands in the same relation as the Saxon to the English, and which I have asserted to be one of the numerous dialects of the widely-extended language found to prevail, with strong features of similarity, throughout the archipelago on the hither side of New Guinea, and, with a less marked resemblance, among the islands of the Pacific Ocean.... To show the general identity, or radical connection of its dialects, and, at the same time, their individual differences, I beg leave to refer the reader [9] to the tables annexed to a paper on the subject which I presented, so long ago as the year 1780, to the Society of Antiquaries, and is printed in vol. vi. of the _Archæologia_; also, a table of comparative numerals, in the appendix to vol. iii. of Captain Cook's last voyage; and likewise to the chart of ten numerals, in two hundred languages, by the Rev. R. Patrick, recently published in Valpy's _Classical, Biblical and Oriental Journal_.' "Again, Marsden states: "'But whatever pretensions any particular spot may have to precedence in this respect, the so wide dissemination of a language common to all bespeaks a high degree of antiquity, and gives a claim to originality, as far as we can venture to apply that term, which signifies no more than the state beyond which we have not the means, either historically or by fair inference, of tracing the origin. In this restricted sense it is that we are justified in considering the main portion of the Malayan as original, or indigenous, _its affinity to any Continental tongue not having yet been shown_; and least of all can we suppose it connected with the monosyllabic, or Indo-Chinese, with which it has been classed.' "When we find an original language bearing no traces of being derived from any Continental tongue, we must conclude the people likewise to be original, in the restricted sense, or to have emigrated with their language from some source hitherto unknown. The Sanscrit and Arabic additions to the original stock are well marked, though the period of the introduction of the former is hidden in darkness. It may be inferred, however, that it came with the Hindoo religion, the remains of which are yet in existence. It is evident that the question resolves itself into two distinct branches: first, the original language, its extent, the coincidence of its dialects, its source, &c.; secondly, its discrepancies, whence arising, &c.; together with the inquiry into the probable time and mode of the introduction of the Sanscrit. With the latter of these inquiries I have nothing to do; on the former subject I may collect some valuable information by adding the dialects of the savage tribes in the interior of Borneo and Celebes. "The alphabets of the island of Java, of the Tagala, and the Bugis of Celebes, are given by Corneille, Le Brun, Thevenot, and Forrest." Of Mr. Brooke's sojourn at Singapore it is unnecessary to speak; and I accordingly resume my extracts with his ensuing voyage from that port, and again for the Indian archipelago, but contenting myself, for reasons which need not be entered into at length, with only that portion of his excursion to Celebes and among the Bugis which particularly bears upon his Borneon sequel. "_Dec. 7th, 1839._--Off Great Solombo. Never was there a more tedious passage than ours has been from Singapore. Sailing from that place on the 20th of November, we have encountered a succession of calms and light winds--creeping some days a few miles, and often lying becalmed for forty-eight hours without a breath to fill the sails. Passing through the straits of Rhio and Banca, and watering at the islands of Nanka, we stood thence for Pulo Babian, or Lubeck, lay a night becalmed close to the Arrogants Shoal, of which, however, we saw nothing, owing, probably, to the smoothness of the water. The depths are greater than laid down on Horsburgh's chart, varying from thirty-six to thirty-eight fathoms. A calm now keeps us off the greater Solombo, which it is my intention to visit when in my power. "_8th._--Drifted past Solombo in the calm, and, reluctant to return, I continued on my voyage with a light breeze from the eastward. This island is well laid down: from the sea we made its longitude 113° 31'; Horsburgh gives it 113° 28', which, considering that both observations were made afloat, is a near enough approximation. The land is low, with a single hill, showing round from the westward, flat or wedge-shaped from the eastward. The smaller Solombo is low: both wooded. "_10th._--In sight of Laurots islands. "_11th._--In the evening stood within four miles of the southern island of Laurots. These islands are high and steep, covered with wood, and uninhabited. The easternmost island seems, by bearings, badly laid down, being not far enough to the southward and eastward. The southern island is called by the Bugis, Mata Siri; the eastern, Kadapangan; the northern one, Kalambow. A few rocks and islets lay off them; water deep, and apparently clear of all danger. "_15th._--Turatte Bay. After experiencing continued calms and light winds, and falling short of water, we at length reached this bay, and anchored in 7 1/2 fathoms. The first impression of Celebes is highly favorable. The mountains present a bold outline, and rise in confused masses, until crowned by what is commonly called _Bonthian Hill_. The sides of the mountains slope gradually to the sea, and present an inviting and diversified aspect of wood and cleared land. I dispatched a boat for water to a small village; and the crew were well received by the natives, after they became assured that they were not pirates. "The outline of this bay, in Norie's chart, is not badly laid down; but on either side there is great room for improvement and survey. Turatte Bay may be fairly so called, as the district (or _negri_) generally bears that name. The larboard point of Turatte Bay (approaching) is called Malasaro, which comes next to Tanjong Layken in the charts. The starboard point is Tanjong Uju Loke, and from Uju Loke the land runs low to the point of Galumpang, the entrance of a river marked in the charts. From Uju Loke (named Bolo Bolo in Norie's chart) the coast-line runs for 12 or 15 miles to Bolo Bolo, which space is entirely omitted. Bolo Bolo forms the entrance of Bonthian Bay. "_16th._--Bonthian Bay. Called Banthi by the natives: is in lat. 5° 37' S.; long. 119° 33' E. "The bay is pretty well laid down by Dalrymple. The small Dutch fort, or intrenchment, stands rather on the eastern bight of the bay, and is composed of a few huts, surrounded by a ditch and green bank. Two guns at each corner compose its strength, and the garrison consists of about thirty Dutchmen and a few Javanese soldiers. We were cordially and hospitably received by the officers, and, after a great deal of trouble and many excuses, here procured horses to carry us to the waterfall. Bonthian Hill is immediately over this place; a flat space of rice-ground, some miles in extent, only intervening. The hill (so called) may with more propriety be designated as a range of mountains, which here attain their utmost height and sink down gradually almost across the peninsula. The view is most attractive; the green and refreshing rice-grounds in the front and behind, the slopes of the mountain and its various peaks, verdant grass, wooded chasms, and all the inequalities which mark a mountain region. I am very anxious to mount to the summit; but so many difficulties are thrown in the way, that I almost despair--horses and guides are not to be procured. The Dutch say the natives are lazy: the natives say they dare not go without authority--either way we are the losers; but the officers certainly exert themselves in our favor. Coming into this bay, there is some difficulty in distinguishing the fort; but coming from the westward, its position may readily be known by steering for two lumps on the S.E. declivity of the mountain. "_18th._--Got ashore by seven o'clock to start for the waterfall; till nine we were detained by want of horses, but after much trouble the animals were procured, and off we started. Our party consisted of three doctors (him of the fortification, a German gentleman, Treacher, and Theylingen) and myself, with native guides. The road lay for a short way along the beach, then struck into the thicket, and we commenced a gradual ascent. The scenery was most striking and lovely; glades and glens, grassy knolls and slopes, with scattered trees, and the voice of a hidden river which reached our ears from a deep valley on the left hand. Proceeding thus for some distance, we at length plunged into the wood, and descending a short space, found ourselves by the sides of the stream below the waterfall. Here, breakfast being finished, we all stripped to our trowsers, entered the water, and advanced along the bed of the river to the fall. The banks on either hand, steep and woody, prevented any other mode of approach, and the stream, rushing down and falling over huge rocks, rendered the only available one any thing but easy. At times we were up to the arms, then crawling out and stealing with care over wet and slippery stones, now taking advantage of a few yards of dry ground, and ever and anon swimming a pool to shorten an unpleasant climb. In this manner we advanced about half a mile, when the fall became visible; thick trees and hanging creepers intervened; between and through the foliage we first saw the water glancing and shining in its descent. The effect was perfect. After some little further and more difficult progress, we stood beneath the fall, of about 150 feet sheer descent. The wind whirled in eddies, and carried the sleet over us, chilling our bodies, but unable to damp our admiration. The basin of the fall is part of a circle, with the outlet forming a funnel; bare cliffs, perpendicular on all sides, form the upper portion of the vale, and above and below is all the luxuriant vegetation of the East; trees, arched and interlaced, and throwing down long fantastic roots and creepers, shade the scene, and form one of the richest sylvan prospects I have ever beheld. The water, foaming and flashing, and then escaping amid huge gray stones on its troubled course--clear and transparent, expanding into tranquil pools, with the flickering sunshine through the dense foliage--all combine to form at scene such as Tasso has described. [10] "Inferior in body of water to many falls in Switzerland, it is superior to any in sylvan beauty; its deep seclusion, its undisturbed solitude, and the difficulty of access, combine to heighten its charms to the imagination. Our descent was like our upward progress. Having again dressed ourselves, we rested for a time, and then started for Bonthian--wearing away the rest of the day shooting amid the hills. Theylingen and myself procured many specimens, and returned laden with our spoil, and charmed with our day's excursion. The waterfall is called Sapo, from the neighboring green peak of that name. The height of our resting-place (not the highest point of the day's ascent) was 750.5 feet, by Newman's two barometers; yet this is the bottom of the mountain on its western slope. The officers dined with us; they are very polite and kind; and we retired early to rest, all the better for our excursion. "_19th._--At 6 A.M. went with the Dutch officers shooting, and reached the same stream which forms the waterfall. The scenery delightful; water cool, and pleasant for bathing, a luxury I enjoyed in high perfection. Aboard again to a late breakfast." CHAPTER VI. Dain Matara, the Bugis,--Excursions in Celebes.--Dispute with the Rajah's son-in-law.--Baboon shot.--Appearance of the country.--Visit the Resident.--Barometrical observations.--The Bugis.--Geography.--Coral reefs.--Visit the Rana of Lamatte.--Population and products of the country. "I may here, indulge in a brief episode to introduce my Bugis companion, Dain Matara,--which properly I should have done long since,--a man well born, and, for his country, affluent and educated: he offered at Singapore, to accompany me on this expedition, refusing all pay or remuneration, and stating that the good name to be acquired, and the pleasure of seeing different places, would recompense, him. At first, I must own this disinterestedness rendered me suspicious; but conceiving that the greatest utility might accrue from his assistance, I agreed to take him with his servant. Our long passage seemed to make us well acquainted, and, I believe, raised a mutual confidence. Dain, cheerful, good-tempered, and intelligent, gained daily on my esteem; and, by the time we reached Bonthian, I was rejoiced that he accompanied me. "On this day we succeeded in procuring horses and guides for the _hill_, as it is called. "_20th._--By 8 A.M. our preparations were complete, and we mounted our horses; a motley group we formed, composed of Treacher, Theylingen, and myself, two seamen (Spence and Balls), Dain Matara, a son-in-law of the Bonthian Rajah, and six footmen. Provisions for four days were on one of the horses, and a goodly stock of fowling-pieces, beside my mountain barometer. The plain was soon cleared; and three hours' ride by a good horse-path brought us to the village of Senua, consisting of a dozen houses. We found the inhabitants hospitable, and took refuge from a heavy squall of wind and rain in the best house the place afforded. During the rain the thermometer sunk to 76°, but rose directly afterward. At half-past one the rain cleared away, but we were detained until three by the Bugis getting their dinner. During this time I strayed along the sparkling stream which runs by the village, and after enjoying a bathe, called to horse, in order to proceed. Great was my surprise, however, to be told by the rajah's son-in-law that he supposed we were going back. A discussion arose,--he declaring there was no road for the horses, and that we could not go farther; while I insisted, if he would not advance, I should continue my journey on foot. After much time had been lost, our guide set off slowly and reluctantly, and we proceeded for two or three miles, when, finding our head turned to the southward, and the road descending, I again called a halt, and was once more told it was not possible to mount farther. A scheme had been formed to lead us round about, and take us gradually down, until too late to mount again. A long parley ensued; both parties seemed resolute; and it finished by our unloading the baggage-horse, and making a small parcel of necessaries to carry on foot. Our guide, however, never intended matters to go so far, and we finished at last by taking half the horses, and allowing him (the rajah's son-in-law) to descend with the rest. This being done, we had to retrace our road nearly to Senua; and a little before sunset our party crossed an awkward stream, and struck into the path up the mountains. "A short walk brought us to Lengan Lengang about dusk, where we put up for the night. For the first time, this day I saw the cockatoo in his wild state; I was within easy shot of two of them, but the stream lay between us, and I felt some compunction at shooting these favorite birds. "Lourikeets were in great plenty, and many varieties of pigeons and doves, beside other birds. Near Lengan Lengang we encountered a community of dusky baboons, many of them very large and powerful: after a hard scramble I got within shot of them; on my firing the first barrel, the young ones and females made off, but the leaders of the band disdained to retreat, and, with threatening gestures and grimaces, covered the retreat of their party. The consequence was, I sacrificed one of these heroes, of a large size: he fell from the branch on which he was seated into a deep valley, and his fall completed the rout of the rest. Spence, in the mean time, having arrived, I dispatched him to secure the prize; but at the bottom of the valley the baboons again showed themselves, and manifested every inclination to fall on him; another barrel put them to flight, and between us we dragged the fallen hero to the horses. "The village of Lengan Lengang consists of about a dozen houses, is situated in a nook of the hills, and surrounded by cocoanut-trees. We were accommodated in the principal house, and treated with every hospitality. The people of the hills are poor, though their land is fertile, and produces abundance of rice and Indian corn. Theft is said to be common, especially of horses, and the care of the horses belonging to travelers devolves on the villagers; for, in case a horse is stolen, a fine is imposed on the population in general. To prevent this misfortune, our hosts kept playing, as long as we could bear it, on an instrument like a clarinet; but at twelve o'clock, after trying in vain to sleep, we were obliged to stop the noise and risk the horses. "This instrument is about three feet long, with five or six holes, and a flat mouthpiece on the cane-tube; the sound is musical when gently breathed into, but in their usual mode of playing, it emits frightful shrieks. During the night the thermometer sunk to 69°, and we were glad of our blankets. "_21st._--Rose between five and six. Took some barometrical observations, and at half-past six continued our upward way. As far as Lengan Lengang the country presents beautiful woodland and mountain scenery, with luxuriant vegetation, thickly wooded valleys, and sparkling streams. The flats and valleys are occupied by rice-grounds, and the pasturage is of the very finest description for all sorts of cattle: the grass short and rich. Lengan Lengang is the last point where the cocoanut or other palms is seen; but there it grows remarkably well, and attains a great height. Above this point the wood, generally speaking, becomes smaller, and the vegetation more coarse, the hills being covered with a rank high grass, and ferns, similar to those in England. Three hours' slow traveling brought us to the village of Lokar, situated at the foot of the peak of that name. I mounted, while breakfast was preparing, nearly to the top, and up to the belt of thick wood which surrounds the last 100 or 150 feet. Observations were repeated here, showing a great fall of the mercury, and afterward taken at the village. Lokar consists of a few scattered huts, situated amid gardens of fruit and vegetables: the mango, the guava, the jack, and the plantain, with cabbages and Indian corn, compose the stock of the inhabitants; the latter constitutes their principal food, and is granaried for use in large quantities, not only in the house, but on frameworks of bamboo without, on which it is thickly hung in rows, with the head downward, to protect it from the weather. The highest summit, called Lumpu Balong, was visible when we first arrived, some miles in advance: at breakfast-time the clouds entirely covered it, and rolled down upon Lokar in heavy rain, driving us into a miserable hut for shelter. "During the rain the thermometer fell to 70°. At 3 P.M. started for some huts we saw at the foot of Lumpu Balong, having first sent our horses back to Lengan Lengang, being assured their farther progress was impracticable. When, however, our guide from Lokar understood our intention of reaching Lumpu Balong, he objected to proceed, on the plea that the village in advance was inhabited by people from Turatte. We managed to coax him on, and, after two and a half hours' walk, reached Parontalas. The country, ascending gradually, becomes more and more wild; the wood stunted; and the streams, finding their way through masses of rock, leave strong traces of their occasional violence. Parontalas stands on the edge of the forest which skirts Lumpu Balong, from which it has not long been retrieved. It consists of a few scattered huts, far apart. Potatoes, tobacco, and coffee are grown here, the former in great abundance. Like the rest of the people, their food consists of Indian corn; and, as in the other villages, they breed horses. Our host of Parontalas was very polite, and gave us some fowls and the accommodation of his house; the latter, indeed, was needful, for we were all badly provided with covering, and the mountain air was raw and cold. To our request for guides to ascend the mountain he replied, that it was necessary to consult the head man of the district, who lived some little distance off. In the interim we made ourselves very happy, determined to ascend with or without a guide or guides. We lay down at nine, in order to be ready for the morning's work, the thermometer standing at 59° in the house. "_22d._--At five, when we rose, the thermometer stood at 56° in the air. The head man had arrived, and willingly gave us guides, warning us only of the difficulty of the ascent. Nothing could exceed the kindness and attention of this simple old man. He remembered the time the English had the country, and spoke of his people's respect for our nation, and their regret that we had left the country. At 6 A.M. we started, and, after walking about a mile, plunged into the belt of forest which environs Lumpu Balong. From six till half-past two, we were alternately ascending and descending, scrambling over rocks or fallen timber, or cutting a path through the most tangled thicket that ever tore the wayfarer. To add to our difficulty, during the latter half of the ascent, we could procure no water, which caused us considerable suffering. At length, however, we stood at the summit of Lumpu Balong, and looked, on either side, over a vast sea of fleecy clouds which rolled beneath. The top is a narrow ridge, covered with stunted trees and luxuriant moss; and a second peak to the westward, of rather less elevation, is separated from it by a declivity. I climbed to the top of a tree to look along the mountain, and make certain that we were at the highest point; and having convinced myself of this, I proceeded with the barometric observations, which were concluded by 3 P.M.; for it was highly necessary to get down before night overtook us in the dreary and inhospitable forest. Our thirst, too, was tormenting, and increased by hearing the fall of a torrent deep in the valley to the northward. "As far as I could observe, the northern face of the mountain was perpendicular, and the ascent on that side would have been attended with greater difficulty than from the point we chose. Our way down was easier, and the descent was made as expeditiously as the nature of the ground would allow. Having fairly worn our shoes off our feet, we were pierced by brambles and thorns in a cruel manner. Our guide, in going down, discovered a tree with a bee-hive in it containing great store of honey. The Bugis instantly attacked the tree, on seeing which my first impression was, that it would be prudent to retreat to a distance; but their composure induced me to remain; and, to my surprise, when the tree was laid open, the honey was taken out in large quantities, and the bees brushed off the comb without offering to sting. Though flying round about us, and on the hands of all the people, they were quite innocent of harm; and I conclude, therefore, they were different from the common honey-bee. The honey was excellent, and refreshed us for a few minutes, but ultimately only added to our thirst. At length, about five, we reached a stream of water, and quenched our thirst with draughts of the coolest and most limpid mountain stream. The Bugis, though, like ourselves, they had been, without any water from nine o'clock in the morning till five in the evening, refused to drink, alleging that it was highly injurious after eating honey! Glad were we, just at dark, to get clear of the forest; and a short walk farther brought us to our temporary dwelling. We were much knocked up, and very much torn with the thorns. A brief dinner and a delicious cigar, and we lay down to sleep--not even incommoded by the cold, which kept us awake the last night. "_23d._--Having, through mistake, forgotten to bring up any money, I had no means of repaying the obligations received from these simple hill-people except _by promises_. My old friend ordered the guide of yesterday to accompany us to the plains, to receive his own payment, and to bring some things, for others, up there. At ten we hobbled forth, very foot-sore, and lacking proper covering for our feet. The prospect of four or five hours' walk to Lengan Lengang was very unpleasant; and in proportion to our expected pain was our gratification on meeting _all_ our horses within three miles of Parontalas--_all_ the horses, which all the men swore could not, by any possibility, ascend, were there; and though without saddles and bridles, or the Bugis, we were too glad to mount. We went down by another road. Four hours brought us to Lengan Lengang, where we rested for two hours, and, remounting, reached Bonthian at about seven o'clock in the evening. Thus concluded this interesting excursion into a hill-region, where we attained the summit of Lumpu Balong, never before reached by European. The Dutch officers informed me that three successive residents of Bonthian had attempted it and failed. "Before I conclude, I may take a brief survey of the country. The hills are generally rounded or flat at top, and not offering any rugged or broken peaks. The scenery about Senua and Lengan Lengang is the perfection of woodland, with the picturesque characteristics of a mountain region; the climate admirably suited, thence to the summit, for Europeans, and capable of producing most European and tropical plants to perfection. Coffee plantations on these hills might be undertaken with certainty of success, and there is much in the character of the natives which would facilitate the operation. To the westward of Lokar, and somewhat lower, is a fine extensive plain, which we just skirted coming down; it was cultivated in every part, apparently with rice. The vegetable productions of the hills I have briefly mentioned; but I may add that the wild raspberry was found, and that wild guavas grow in the greatest abundance, as well as oranges and grapes. "The animal kingdom, of course, we had no time to examine; but the babi rupa is said to be found in the higher regions; and in the forest, toward the summit of Lumpu Balong, we saw the dung of wild cattle, which, I am told, are a species of urus. The birds we saw were, paroquets of two sorts, viz., the lourikeet and a small green paroquet; a large green pigeon, specimens of which we got; the cream-colored pigeon of Borneo, beside many others. "The geological formation of the region I must leave to others. I brought down some specimens of the rocks and loose stones, which are, I believe, pummice; if so, I presume the formation volcanic, similar to Java. "_24th._--Called on the resident, and saw the rajah. "_25th._--Christmas, with his jolly nose and icy hands. Here it is hot enough! Were I to live in this country, I should retire for the season up in the mountains. Dined with the Resident of Bonthian; by no means surprised that he and his congeners had failed in their attempt to climb the mountain: the resident is a native! In the evening, celebrated the day with all sorts of sports. "_26th._--Mid-day, quitted Bonthian, and ran to Boele Comba or Compa. "_27th._--I have little to say of Boele Comba. It is situated in the bight of the bay, eastward of Bonthian. There appears to be much, confusion an Horsburgh's Directory about the latitude and longitude, and the hill called after the place. This hill is the last of the mountain-range, somewhat detached, covered with wood, of moderate elevation, and peaked. From our anchorage, two miles from the fort, it bore N.N.W. The fort is similar to the one at Bonthian, the country pretty, and nearly level. The Bonthian mountains (_i. e._ Lumpu Balong and the range) show steep and well in the background. Game abounds, by report. Europeans are subject to complaints of the eyes, and occasionally to fever. Any vessel running in should be very careful, for the charts are defective, and Boele Comba reef is said to project farther to the westward of the fort than laid down. "I here subjoin a list of our barometric observations, the upper barometer reduced to the rate of the lower and standard one:-- _Senua, 20th December, 1839._ Bar. A. D. 1. 30.054 86 87 3h 15m P.M. 2. 28.385 79 80 _Lengan Lengang, 21st December._ Bar. A. D. 1. 30.119 79 78.5 6h 30m A.M. 2. 27.988 70 69.5 6h 0m " _Lokar Peak, 21st December, 100 feet below summit._ Bar. A. D. 1. 30.095 90 90 10h 30m A.M. 2. 25.975 79 79 _Hill on the way to Lumpu Balong, 22d December._ Bar. A. D. 1. 30.144 90 90 Mean between 8h and noon. 2. 23.612 ... 66 65.5 10h 40m A.M. _Lumpu Balong Peak, 22d December._ Bar. A. D. 1. 30.146 89.5 90.5 2h 0m P.M. 2. 23.718 64 63.5 2h 30m " _28th._--Leaving Boele Comba after breakfast, we shaped our course for Point Berak. "With the richest country, the natives of these places are poor, and they bear no good-will to their rulers. It is likewise certain that few active measures are resorted to for forwarding the development of the native character and local resources. The resident is a Macassar-born native, and this fact alone speaks volumes for the mode and manner of government. The people of the country I found a kind and simple race; and though they are accused of pride and laziness by their masters, I could not, circumstances taken into consideration, discover any trace, of the latter vice, and the former I can readily forgive them. That the Bugis are not an indolent race is well proved by their whole conduct, wherever circumstances offer any inducement to exertion. Even here, the cleared country and the neat cultivation prove them far otherwise; and traces are visible everywhere on the mountains of their having been more highly cultivated than at present. Coffee plantations once flourished, and being destroyed during a war, years ago, have never been renewed. Inclosures and partition walls in decay are very frequent, marking the former boundary of cultivation. That they are independent enough to be proud, I honor them for! The officers allowed they were courageous, and one designated them as '_fier comme un Espagnol_;' and, on the whole, no doubt exists in my mind that they are people easily to be roused to exertion, either agricultural or commercial; their sullen and repulsive manners toward their masters rather indicating a dislike to their sway, and the idleness complained of only proving that the profits of labor are lower than they ought to be. "Nothing so strongly marks the degradation of a race or nation as a cheerful acquiescence under a foreign rule. The more virtuous, the more civilized, the more educated a people, the more turbulent, indolent, and sullen, when reduced to a state of subjection; the fewer qualities will they have to please their masters, when foreign rule is oppressive, or looks solely to the advantage of the country of the conquerors, and not of the conquered. There is no race will willingly submit: the bayonet and the sword, the gallows and the whip, imprisonment and confiscation, must be constantly at work to keep them under. "Leaving Boele Comba, as I before said, we shaped our course for Tanjong Berak, passing between that point and the north island. The passage is excellent, clear of all danger, as far as we could see, with deep water. The rocks reported to exist by Horsburgh, and put down on Norie's chart, have no existence. The Bugis prahus always use this channel, and know them not; and the captain of a Dutch cruiser informed me that he had often run through the passage at night, and that it was clear of all danger or obstruction. "My own observation went to verify the fact, for every part of the passage appears deep and clear, and we passed over the spots where these rocks are marked. Approaching Tanjong Berak, there is a sandy beach, where a vessel may get anchorage in case the wind dies away. The tides in the channel are strong; here, and along the south coast, the ebb runs from the eastward, the flood from the west. Having cleared the channel, we hauled into the Bay of Boni, which, although running in a north and south direction, has some headlands extending to the eastward. There are two places marked on the chart, viz. Berak and Tiero; but these, instead of being towns or villages, are names of districts; the first, reaching from Tanjong Berak, about 15 miles, till it joins Tiero; Tiero, extending from the northern confine of Berak to Tanjong Labu, 15 miles in all. To the northward and eastward is a high island called Balunrueh. From Tanjong Berak the water along the coast is very deep; no soundings with 50 fathoms. Toward evening we went into Tiero Bay, a pretty secluded spot. The southern part of the bay is foul, having a reef visible at low water, The northern headland has a spit running from it, with 14 fathom half a mile (or little more) off. Within the bay there is no bottom with 50 fathom till near its northern extremity, where the water shoals suddenly. Running in, in a squall, we got into 3 1/4 fathom, where we anchored. This country belongs to the Dutch as far as Point Labu. "_29th._--Calm all day. Sounded the bay: the southern point has a steep coral reef nearly a quarter of a mile off. The southern part of the bay is inclosed by a reef, part of which seems to me artificial, for the purpose of catching fish, and is shallow: outside the reef the water is deep dose to. The western shore is lined by a reef close to it, and the water is deep. The center part of the bay is very deep; and within 100 yards of where we lay we got no bottom at 17 fathoms. The next cast was 6, and the next 3 fathoms--hard clay bottom. A small river discharges itself, in the northern part, inside the anchorage: there is a considerable depth within, but the bar is shallow. The scenery on the river is beautiful; wild at first, and gradually becoming undulating and cultivated. Birds are plenty: cockatoos abound, of which I shot two. This part of the country possesses considerable geological interest: the hills round the bay are of slight elevation; and 80 or 100 feet from the sea level are large masses of coral rock, upheaved by some convulsion. "_30th._--Under weigh. Brought up in 23 fathoms, amid the coral shoals. "_31st._--Visited the island of Balunrueh for sights. "Tanjong Labu is bluff and bold, and of moderate elevation. The land from thence trends away westward, forming a long bay, which, for distinction, may be called Labu Bay, at the N.W. part of which is the town of Songi, the principal place about here. Between Labu and Songi are the following countries: Kupi Kajang, Pakah, Buah, Kalaku, Baringan, and Magnarabunbang; each with a separate petty rajah. The country is moderately well cleared; about an average height, near the shore, of 300 feet; with few habitations about, but no towns or villages. The mountain range throws a spur downward to the sea in the vicinity of Songi and the fine peaks of Lumpu Balong; and Wawa Karang, with the _confusion_ of mountains, form a magnificent background to the prospect. From Magnarabunbang the land runs away to the eastward toward Tanjong Salanketo, which must be described on a future occasion. In the offing are several islands and numerous reefs. The principal island is Balunrueh, 400 or 500 feet high; bold, steep, and covered with trees, except at its northern extremity; where it is low, with a sandy point. Off this north point runs a coral reef; direction 354°, and extent about two miles. At the S.W. angle of the island there is likewise a reef stretching half a mile; and the shores all round, for a short distance, are lined with coral, outside of which the water is apparently very deep. We could get no soundings with a hand lead, half a mile to the westward. "Off Balunrueh, to the S.E., is the islet of Liang Liang; next to Liang Liang, Tanbunoh, which is larger; then Cadingareh Batantampeh (the largest), Cotingduan Lariahriah, and two islands to the northward called Canallo. Balunrueh and Batantampeh have both indifferent fresh water; the former near the low point at the north end. From the S.W. end of Liang Liang a reef runs out. The bearing, from the small hill, over the watering place of Balunrueh, was 77°. The reef extends to 104°, and stretches to the southward beside: near Liang Liang it is narrow. Its limits I could not define. "Between Liang Liang and Tanbunoh a narrow reef, and spits from most of the islands. Two patches lay off Balunrueh about two miles and a half: the first, bearing 319°, is narrow, and about half a mile long; the other smaller, and bearing 287°. Part of the day we passed on Balunrueh was very hot; but we got satisfactory sights, and sailed round the island, returning to the vessel about six in the evening. "I must now return to Labu, to give some account of the channel between the reefs; as, from the appearance of the charts, it would seem impossible to navigate the western side of the bay. Having passed Tanjong Labu at a distance of 3 1/2 or 4 miles, get the flat-topped hill called Bulu Tanna ahead. Close to the Bulu Tanna, in the foreground, is another smaller hill, with two remarkable tufts on the top: this hill, just open to the eastward of Bulu Tanna, is the leading mark for Songi, which stands to the westward. This mark will lead clear, or very nearly so, of all the reefs; but as there is uncertainty in the distance from Tanjong Labu, it may be necessary to diverge from the straight course in order to avoid some of the patches. In the daytime the coral is seen with the greatest ease; and a vessel with a lookout aloft, and a breeze, may proceed with safely. The first reef is on the starboard hand; part was dry, and shoal-water about. This first patch is in the proximity of the great reef called Melompereh, which runs to the eastward. Beside these, the channel is occasionally lined by patches on either hand; but is nowhere narrower than a mile and a half, and is anything but difficult navigation, so far, in clear weather. "_Jan. 4th, 1840._--Arrived off Songi on the 1st, and dispatched a boat to the old Rajah, or Rana, of Lamatte. Our answer was, that not, having been to Boni, she feared receiving us, as she felt inclined; but if we would come to her house, she should be glad to see us. On the following day, accordingly, we paid our visit at her residence, which is situated about four miles up the river Tanca. "The old lady is about sixty-five years of age, and (as she herself informed us) very poor. Her house, indeed, bears every mark of great poverty; having a leaky roof, and not sufficient matting to cover the bamboo floors. She was kind, and seemed pleased to see us; said I should henceforward be her son, and that nothing but her fear of the Boni Rajah prevented her receiving me in the best way in her power; but pointing to the roof and to the floor, she repeated, 'I have nothing.' I presented her with such articles as I thought would be acceptable to her; and, in return, she gave me a sarong. "The population of the country is considerable. The last district I mentioned was Magnarabunbang. The town of that name, on the sea-side, consists of forty-five houses, beside a roving population of Badjows. Along the coast to the eastward, and close to Magnarabunbang, is the river of Songi. Proceeding up this shallow river, the first village is Tacolompeh, situated on the right bank, and consisting of twenty houses; nearly opposite the village of Pangassa, of thirteen houses; and farther up, about four miles from the river's mouth, stands Songi, consisting of 164 houses on the right bank, and 60 on the left. These places are all on the low ground, and surrounded with cocoanut-trees. "Joining the district of Magnarabunbang, on the coast, is Lamatte, the rajanate of our old friend. The river, like the Songi, is shallow, and running through very low ground. On the left bank is Luppa, consisting of twenty-five houses; then, on the right, Ulo, twenty-two houses; and above Ulo comes Ullue, of twelve houses. Nearly opposite Ullue is Balammepa, with thirty houses, superior to the others, and inhabited by merchants who have made money in trading voyages. This village sends yearly two prahus to Singapore. Just above Ullue stand seven houses; and above Balammepa is Tanca, the residence of the Rajah of Lamatte, consisting of ten houses. The streams, as I have said, are shallow, and the ground low, neatly cultivated with Indian corn, and abounding in cocoanut-trees. Behind Magnarabunbang there is a narrow strip of low ground, which becomes wider as it advances to the eastward, with here and there moderate elevations. "The chief product of the country is coffee, which is grown in great quantities on the hills, but brought down as it ripens, when it is collected by the Bugis merchants for their yearly shipments. The yearly produce is stated to be 2000 coyans or 80,000 peculs. The price is from fifteen to sixteen Java rupees the pecul; to which must be added the trouble and expense of storing and clearing from the inner skin. Tortoise-shell is brought in by the Badjows; and mother-of-pearl shells in any quantity there is demand for. Taking the number of houses in this small space, above described, the total will be 308 houses, which reckoned at the low estimate of eight persons for each house, will give 2464 inhabitants; this, however, is far below the proper estimate, as there are villages scattered between the rivers, and numbers of detached houses; in all, therefore, safely computed at 5000 persons. The villages, with the exception of Balammepa, have an aspect of poverty, and the country is ravaged by that frightful scourge the small-pox, and likewise some cases apparently of cholera, from the account given of the complaint. Near the hill of Bulu Tanna there is a hot spring, and likewise, by the report of the natives, some slight remains of an old building. I regretted much not seeing these; but the natives, with much politeness, begged me not to go previous to my visit to Boni, as they would be answerable for allowing strangers to see the country without orders from the chief rajah. All I see and hear convinces me that the Rajah of Boni has great power over the entire country. On a friendly communication with him, therefore, depends our chance of seeing something of the interior. "The inhabitants here are polite, but shy and reserved: and the death of the Rana of Songi and the absence of the Rajah Mooda, her reported successor, have been against us. "_5th._--Sailing from Songi about 4 P.M., we directed our course for Tanjong Salanketo. The breeze was stiff, which caused us to use considerable precaution in sailing among the shoals. Assisted by a native Nacòdah, by name Dain Pativi, we were enabled to keep the tortuous channel, of which otherwise we should have been ignorant. A little farther than the Tanca river is a shoal stretching from the shore, to avoid which we kept Canallo on our lee bow: this being cleared, we gradually luffed up, ran between two shoals, and passed several others." CHAPTER VII. Mr. Brooke's second visit to Sarawak.--The civil war.--Receives a present of a Dyak boy.--Excursion to the seat of war.--Notices of rivers, and settlements on their banks.--Deaths and burials.--Reasons for and against remaining at Sarawak.--Dyak visitors.--Council of war.--Why side with the Rajah.--Mode of constructing forts.--State of enemy's and Rajah's forces.--Conduct of the war. Mr. Brooke continued his cruise for some time, and made very interesting collections of natural history, beside acquiring much insight into the native history, language, and customs, his detailed remarks on which it is to be hoped he will at a future day give to the public. He then returned to Singapore, where he was detained for several months by ill health; but availed himself of the opportunity to recopper and refit the Royalist, and set everything else in order for his next visit to Sarawak, the remarkable results of which are related in the following pages. Still sick and languid though he was, the very air of Borneo, and the prospect of activity, seemed to restore him to life, after the listless rest at Singapore, with "nothing to observe;" and only cheered by the kindest attentions and hospitalities of the inhabitants of that interesting and important settlement. On the second visit of Mr. Brooke to Sarawak, about the end of August, 1840, he found the inhabitants in nearly the same state as at first, although there was much talk of reinforcements, and decisive measures for bringing the war to a close. The two parties lay within thirty miles of each other, the rebels holding the upper part of the river, and communication with the interior. The sultan, however, had sent down the Orang Kaya de Gadong to take more active measures, and his arrival stimulated Muda Hassim to something like exertion. This occurred on the fourth September, 1840, as appears by Mr. Brooke's journal, from which I shall give various extracts indicative not only of the character of my friend, whose ideas were written down at the time the impressions were made, but also supplying a distinct picture of the progress of this novel and amusing civil warfare, and demonstrating the unwarlike character of the Sarawak Borneons. "An army of mixed Malays and Dyaks was raised to attack the Dyak tribes in rebellion, and this service was successfully performed; the rebel Dyaks were defeated, and most of them have since come over to the rajah. Their forces being weakened by desertion, were reported not to amount to more than 400 or 500 men, in four or five forts situated on the river; and it now remained to drive them from their last stronghold of resistance. It was confidently asserted by the rajah and Macota, that, were it not for the underhand assistance of the Sultan of Sambas, who had constantly supplied them with food and ammunition, the insurgents would long since have been dispersed. "At the period in question they were said to be in great distress for want of provisions; and as a force was collecting to attack them from various quarters, it was greatly to be hoped that the war was verging to a termination. During my week's stay I have frequently visited Muda Hassim, and he has likewise been on board: our good understanding knows no interruption; and these savage, treacherous, bloodthirsty Borneons are our good friends, with whom we chat and laugh every evening in familiar converse. I find no cause to alter my last year's opinion, that they have few active vices; but indolence is the root of their evils. "_Sept. 7th._--Last night I received a strange and embarrassing present, in the shape of a young Dyak boy of five years old--a miserable little prisoner, made during this war, from the tribe of Brong. The gift caused me vexation, because I knew not what to do with the poor innocent; and yet I shrink from the responsibility of adopting him. My first wish is to return him to his parents and his tribe; and if I find I cannot do this, I believe it will be bettor to carry him with me than leave him to become the slave of a slave: for should I send him back, such will probably be his fate. I wish the present had been a calf instead of a child. "_9th._--Situ, my Dyak boy, seems content and happy; and judging by his ways, and his fondness for tobacco, he must be older than I at first supposed. In pursuance of my desire to restore him to his parents I made every inquiry as to their probable fate; but have learned nothing that leaves me any hope that I shall be able to do so. The Brong tribe having taken part with the rebels, were attacked by the rajah's people; and many were killed and the rest scattered. Pino, the Brong, knows not whether Situ's parents are alive or dead; nor, if the former, whither they have fled. Supposing my endeavors to restore the child fail, I have resolved to keep him with me, for many reasons. The first is that his future prospects will be better, and his fate as a freeman at Singapore happier, than as a slave in Borneo; the second, that he can be made a Christian. I can easily provide for him in some respectable household, or take him to England, as may hereafter be most advantageous for him; and at the former place he can always be made a comfortable servant with good training. Yet with all this, I cannot disguise from myself that there is responsibility--a heavy moral responsibility--attached to this course, that might be avoided: but then, _should_ it be avoided? Looking to the boy's interests--temporal, perhaps, eternal--I think it ought not; and so, provided always I cannot place him where humanity and nature dictate, I will take the responsibility, and serve this wretched and destitute child as far as lies in my power. He is cast on my compassion; I solemnly accept the charge; and I trust his future life may bear good fruit and cause me to rejoice at my present decision. "_Oct. 2d._--Lying at Sarawak, losing valuable time, but pending the war difficult to get away; for whenever the subject is mentioned, Muda Hassim begs me not to desert him just as it is coming to a close; and daily holds out prospects of the arrival of various Dyak tribes. The rajah urged upon me that he was deceived and betrayed by the intrigues of Pangerans, who aimed at alienating his country; and that if I left him, he should probably have to remain here for the rest of his life, being resolved to die rather than yield to the unjust influence which others were seeking to acquire over him; and he appealed to me that after our friendly communication I could not, as an Engliah gentleman, desert him under such circumstances. I felt that honorably I could not do so; and though reluctantly enough, I resolved to give him the aid he asked;--small indeed, but of consequence in such a petty warfare. "_3d._--I started to join Macota at Leda Tanah. At 4h. 30m. P.M. a pouring rain delayed us some time: and darkness setting in, rendered our pull a long and very disagreeable one. We did not reach Leda Tanah until eleven, when we found _the army_ in their boats, and a small fort they had built on the bank of the river. I moved into Macota's large boat, and slept there; while he, as commander-in-chief, went backward and forward from one post to another during the night. "_4th._--At Leda Tanah the river divided into two branches; one part running past Siniawan, and the other to the left--likewise to another point of the mountain-range. Above Siniawan is Sarambo, a high detached mountain, perhaps 3000 feet in height, with a notch in the center. Off Leda Tanah is a sand and pebble bank formed by the junction of the two streams, and the country around is well cleared for this part; while the graves on the right bank bear witness to the population of former days. It is represented to have been a flourishing place, and the neighborhood well inhabited, until the breaking out of this unhappy war. The situation is delightful, and advantageously chosen at the confluence of the two streams. "_5th._--Ascended that to the left for a short distance. On the left hand, just above Leda Tanah, is the small creek of Sarawak, the original settlement, and from which the larger river now takes its name. I intended to have returned to-day; but as the weather threatened another deluge, I stopped till the following morning. It was a curious sight to see the whole army bathe, with the commander-in-chief at their head, and his Pangerans. The fare of these people is anything but luxurious, for they get nothing but rice and salt; and they were thankful in proportion for the small supplies of tea, sugar, and biscuit I was able to spare them. "_6th._--Quitted Leda Tanah, and reached the Royalist in five hours, one of which we were delayed by the way. The river is remarkably pretty; banks cleared of jungle, with fine trees, and a view of the mountains. Many parts are exceedingly shallow; but the natives state there is a channel for a moderate-sized vessel as far as Leda Tanah." On Mr. Brooke's return on board the Royalist, he found his steward Rankin, who had been lingering some time, still alive; and a seaman named Daniel, whom he had left with a slight fever, suddenly expired at ten at night in a fainting fit. He writes in his journal: "It is difficult to allege the immediate cause of his death, which probably arose from some organic complaint of the heart or the brain, quite independent of fever. Five minutes before his decease the man's pulse was high and full. The steward will follow in a few days; and death, which has never before entered on board, will thus strike two blows. To me it is a satisfaction that neither is in any way attributable to climate. "_7th._--Muda Hassim rendered me every assistance. A grave was prepared, and wood for a coffin, so that by two o'clock we proceeded to inter the dead. His last resting-place was situated on a gently rising ground behind the Chinamen's houses. The ensign was placed over his simple bier, and he was carried by his shipmates to the grave. All who could be spared attended, and I performed the service--that impressive and beautiful service of the Church of England. "_8th._--Having the melancholy duty of yesterday over was a relief, only alloyed by the sad prospect of a near recurrence. I now turned my mind seriously to departure, having well weighed the pros and cons of the subject. "In the first place, the greatest advantage would result from my accompanying the rajah along the coast of Borneo; and if I could hope a reasonable time would leave him free to go there, I would wait spite of the season: for it is evident that by myself I should have to form fresh connections among the chiefs, and without that I reckon it next to impossible to penetrate even a moderate distance from the coast in a strange place. The next reason is, that it has been intimated to me that a rival faction, headed by Pangeran Usop, exists in Borneo Proper, and that that Pangeran, from my known friendship to Muda Hassim, might endeavor to injure me, _i. e._ kill me. At any rate, during Muda Hassim's absence, I should be obstructed in all my proceedings, and could not do more than sketch the bare coast-line. These are strong and cogent reasons for remaining _for a time_, if the ultimate object be attainable; and to these may be added my own feelings--my reluctance to quit the rajah in the midst of difficulty and distress, and his _very very sad face_ whenever I mention the topic. "On the other hand must be weighed the approach of the adverse monsoon, the loss of time, and the failure of provisions, which, though but luxuries to gentlemen which they can readily dispense with, are nevertheless necessaries to seamen, without which they get discontented, perhaps mutinous. There are good reasons on both sides. "_9th._--I sent Williamson to intimate my approaching departure; and when I went in the evening the little man had such a sorrowful countenance that my heart smote me. When I told him I would remain if there were the slightest chance of a close to the war, his countenance cleared, and he gaily repeated that my fortune and his would bring this struggle to an end, though others forsook him. I then consented to await the issue a few days longer, and to revisit Leda Tanah to ascertain if the news were true. It ran to the effect that the rebels, under the Patingi and Tumangong, are fortified at the foot of the mountain of Sarambo, on which hill are three Dyak tribes below that of Sarambo; over them Bombak; and on the summit the Paninjow. The Bombak and Paninjow have already, in part, joined Macota, and the Sarambo are to come in as to-day. These three last Dyak tribes deserting the rebels will leave them surrounded in their forts, which are commanded by the rest of the hill; and everything promises well, if the opportunity be vigorously used. The Sow and the Singè are in part at Leda Tanah, and more Dyaks daily joining. I must push the rajah on to action, for help from without is not likely to come. Yet I wish still more to accommodate matters; and if he would spare the leaders' lives, I believe they would lay down their arms on my guaranty. But though he does not say that he will kill them, he will listen to no terms of compromise; and when I reflect that a European monarch, in the same circumstances, would act in the same way--that the laws of my own country would condemn the men for the same offence--I cannot urge the subject into a personal matter. "_16th._--Rankin's (my steward's) death having been some time inevitable, it was a relief when the event occurred. He was cut off in the flower of manhood, from the effects of hard drinking, which even his fine constitution could not resist. I buried him near the other man, and had a neat inscription, with the name of the individual, his ship and age, placed over each. "Days passed on, but not quite unrelieved by events. And now I may positively state, that the war will be over in a few days, or not over at all. The first of these events was the desertion of the Dyaks, and the arrival of their chiefs with Macota. Next arrived 200 Chinese from Sambas, under a very intelligent capitan. Rajah Ali came next, bringing some ourang-outangs' heads; then Datu Naraja; and lastly, Pangeran Jedut from Sarebus, with the information that the Dyaks of that name, in consequence of a war with Linga, would not come here. Thus they not only refused to come themselves, but obliged the Linga people to stay at home to defend their country. To quiet this coast the Sarebus should receive a severe lesson. "_17th._--I had a large party of Dyaks on board in the evening, viz. the Singè, Sow, Bombak, and Paninjow, in all about fifteen men and two old chiefs. They ate and drank, and asked for everything, but stole nothing. One man wore a necklace of beads set with human teeth, taken of course in war, which I got from him for two yards of red cloth. Another was ornamented with a necklace of bears' teeth; and several had such a profusion of small white beads about their necks as to resemble the voluminous foldings of the old fashioned cravat. As far as I could observe, they all seemed in earnest about attacking Siniawan; and their allegiance to the rajah was as warm now (in words) as it had been heretofore defective in action. "_18th._--Proceeded in the long-boat to Leda Tanah, which we reached in three and a half hours' pulling, and just in time to witness the start of 150 Malays and 100 Dyaks of Lundu for the mountain of Sarambo, at the foot of which Siniawan and the enemies' forts are situated. "_19th._--Did everything in my power to urge Macota to advance and divert the attention of the rebels from the party going up the mountain, but in vain: Malay-like, he would wait. "_20th._--I have before remarked that two rivers formed a junction at Leda Tanah; and this day I ascended the left hand stream, or, as they call it, the Songi besar (_i. e._ great Songi). The scenery is picturesque; the banks adorned with a light and variegated foliage of fruit-trees; and everywhere bearing traces of former clearing and cultivation. In the background is the range of mountains, among which Stat is conspicuous from his noble and irregular shape. On our return, the white flag (a Hadji's turban) was descried on the mountain, being the prearranged signal that all was well. No news, however, came from the party; and in spite of the white banner Macota took fright at the idea that the rebels had surrounded them. "_21st._--Detachments of Dyaks are coming in. Ten of the tribe of Sutor were dispatched as scouts; and in a few hours returned with the welcome intelligence that the detachment was safe on the top of the mountain, and that the three tribes of Paninjow, Bombak, and Sarambo, had finally decided on joining the rajah, and surrendering their fortified houses. Soon after this news the chiefs of the tribes arrived with about 100 men, and were of course well received; for if chargeable with deserting their cause, it is done with the utmost simplicity, and perfect confidence in their new associates. From their looks it was apparent they had suffered greatly from want of food; and they frankly confessed that starvation was their principal motive for coming over. I did all in my power to fix their new faith by presents of provisions, &c. &c.: and I think they are trustworthy; for there is a straightforwardness about the Dyak character far different from the double-faced dealings of the Malay. Their stipulations were, forgiveness for the past, and an assurance that none of the Dyaks from the sea (_i. e._ Sarebus and Sakarran) should be employed; for they were, they said, hateful to their eyes. These terms being readily conceded--the first from interest, the second from necessity--they became open and communicative on the best means of attacking the forts. A grand council of war was held, at which were present Macota, Subtu, Abong Mia, and Datu Naraja, two Chinese leaders, and myself--certainly a most incongruous mixture, and one rarely to be met with. After much discussion, a move close to the enemy was determined on for to-morrow, and on the following day to take up a position near their defences. To judge by the sample of the council, I should form very unfavorable expectations of the conduct in action. Macota is lively and active; but whether from indisposition or want of authority, undecided. The Capitan China is lazy and silent; Subtu indolent and self-indulgent; Abong Mia and Datu Naraja stupid. However, the event must settle the question; and, in the mean time, it was resolved that the small stockade at this place was to be picked up, and removed to our new position, and there erected for the protection of the fleet. I may here state my motives for being a spectator of, or participator (as may turn out), in this scene. In the first place I must confess that curiosity strongly prompted me; since to witness the Malays, Chinese, and Dyaks in warfare was so new, that the novelty alone might plead an excuse for this desire. But it was not the only motive; for my presence is a stimulus to our own party, and will probably depress the other in proportion. I look upon the cause of the rajah as most just and righteous: and the speedy close of the war would be rendering a service to humanity, especially if brought about by treaty. At any rate much might be done to ameliorate the condition of the rebels in case of their defeat; for though I cannot, perhaps ought not to, save the lives of the three leaders, yet all the others, I believe, will be forgiven on a slight intercession. At our arrival, too, I had stated that if they wished me to remain, no barbarities must be committed; and especially that the women and children must not be fired upon. To counterbalance these motives was the danger, whatever it might amount to, and which did not weigh heavily on my mind. So much for reasons, which, after all, are poor and weak when we determine on doing anything, be it right or be it wrong. _If_ evil befall, I trust the penalty may be on me rather than on my followers. "_22d._--At daylight the fleet was astir; and in an hour the defences were cut down, the timber, bamboos, &c., formed into rafts ready for transportation, and the stockade, by breakfast-time, had as completely vanished as though it had been bodily lifted away by some genius of the Wonderful Lamp. Everything was ready for a start, and we waited lazily for the flood-tide; but when it did make, the usual procrastination ensued, and there was no move till it was near done. Then, indeed, we proceeded up about two-thirds of the way, and brought up with two good hours' daylight, in spite of my remonstrances. No place could be better calculated than where we rested for an attack upon boats: high banks covered with grass and trees offered a safe shelter for musketry, against which no return could be made. The night, however, passed away quietly. "_24th._--Dawn found us on the advance to our proper position. A thick fog concealed us, and in half an hour the people were on shore busy reërecting our fort, less than a mile from two forts of the enemy, but concealed from them by a point of the river. No opposition was offered to us; and in a few hours a neat defence was completed from the _débris_ of the former. The ground was cleared of jungle; piles driven in a square, about fifteen yards to each face; and the earth from the center, scooped out and intermixed with layers of reeds, was heaped up about five feet high inside the piles. At the four corners were small watch-towers, and along the parapet of earth a narrow walk connecting them. In the center space was a house crowded by the Chinese garrison, a few of whose harmless gingalls were stuck up at the angles to intimidate rather than to wound. While they labored at the body of the defence, the Dyaks surrounded it by an outer work, made of slight sticks run into the ground with cross binding of split bamboo, and bristling with a _chevaux de frise_ (if it may be so styled) of sharpened bamboos about breast-high. The fastenings of the entire work were of rattan, which is found in plenty. It was commenced at 7 A.M. and finished about 3 P.M., showing how the fellows can get through business when they choose. This stockade, varying in strength according to circumstances, is the usual defence of the Sambas Chinese. The Malays erect a simple and quicker-constructed protection by a few double uprights, filled in between with timber laid lengthwise and supported by the uprights. Directly they are under cover, they begin to form the ranjows or sudas, which are formidable to naked feet, and stick them about their position. Above our station was a hill which entirely commanded both it and the river; to the top of which I mounted, and obtained an excellent view of the country around, including the enemies' forts and the town of Siniawan. A company of military might finish the war in a few hours, as these defences are most paltry, the strongest being the fort of Balidah, against which our _formidable_ assault was to be leveled. It was situated at the water's edge, on a slight eminence on the right bank of the river; and a large house with a thatched roof and a lookout house on the summit; a few swivels and a gun or two were in it, and around it a breastwork of wood--judging from a distance, about six or seven feet high. The other defences were more insignificant even than this; and the enemies' artillery amounted, by account, to three six-pounders and numerous swivels; from 350 to 500 men, about half of whom were armed with muskets, while the rest carried swords and spears. They were scattered in many forts, and had a town to defend, all of which increased their weakness. Their principal arm, however, consisted in the ranjows, which were stated to be stuck in every direction. These ranjows are made of bamboo, pointed fine and stuck in the ground; and there are beside, holes about three feet deep, filled with these spikes, and afterward lightly covered, which are called patobong. Another obstacle consists of a spring formed by bending back a stiff cane with a sharp bamboo attached to it, which, fastened by a slight twine, flies forcibly against any object passing through the bush and brushing against it: they resemble the mole-traps of England. The Borneons have a great dread of these various snares; and the way they deal with them is by sending out parties of Dyaks during the night to clear the paths from such dangers. "Though I have stated the insignificant nature of the enemies' lines, it must not be supposed I imagined them at all inferior to our own resources. Our grand army consisted of 200 Chinese, excellent workmen, but of whose qualities as soldiers I can say nothing. They were, however, a stout, muscular set of men, though wretchedly armed, having no guns and scarcely any muskets; but swords, spears, and shields, together with forty long thin iron tubes with the bore of a musket and carrying a slug. These primitive weapons were each managed by two men, one being the carrier of the ordnance, the other the gunnery for while one holds the tube over his shoulder, the other takes aim, turns away his head, applies his match, and is pleased with the sound. Their mode of loading is as curious as the piece and its mode of discharge. Powder is poured in, the end knocked on the ground, and the slug with another knock sent on the powder, without either ramming or cartridge. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine any weapon more rude, awkward, or inefficient. "Of Malays we had 250, of whom 150 were on the Sarambo mountain, occupied in defending the Dyak houses. Of the hundred remaining with the grand army, about half were armed with muskets. A few brass guns composed our artillery; and in the boats were a good many swivels. The Dyaks amounted to about 200, of various tribes, viz., Sibnowans, Paninjows, Bombak, Sarambo, Kampit, Tabah, Sanpro, Suntah; but these were merely pioneers, and would not face the report of fire-arms. The Borneons, in fighting, wear a quilted jacket or spencer, which reaches over the hips, and from its size has a most unservicelike appearance: the bare legs and arms sticking out from under this puffed-out coat, like the sticks which support the garments of a scarecrow. Such was our incongruous and most inefficient array; yet with 300 men who would fight, nothing would have been easier than to take the detached defences of the enemy, none of which could contain above thirty or forty men. But our allies seemed to have little idea of fighting except behind a wall; and my proposal to attack the adversary was immediately treated as an extreme of rashness amounting to insanity. At a council of war it was consequently decided that advances should be made from the hill behind our fort to Balidah by a chain of posts, the distance being a short mile, in which space they would probably erect four or five forts; and then would come a bombardment, noisy but harmless. "During the day we were not left quiet. The beating of gongs, shouts, and an occasional shot, gave life to the scene. With my glass I could espy our forces at the top of the hill, pleased no doubt to see us coming to their support. At night loud shouts and firing from the rebels caused us to prepare for an attack; but it proved to be nothing but lights moving about the hill-side, with what intent we were ignorant. The jungle on the left bank having been cleared, we did not much expect any skirmishers; but some spies were heard near our boats. With this exception the night passed away unbroken on our part, though the rebels kept up an incessant beating of gongs, and from time to time fired a few stray shots, whether against an enemy or not was doubtful. "_25th._--The grand army was lazy, and did not take the field when they possessed themselves of two eminences, and commenced forts on each. About 11 A.M. we got intelligence that the enemy was collecting on the right bank, as they had been heard by our scouts shouting one to another to gather together in order to attack the stockades in the course of building. Even with a knowledge of their usual want of caution, I could not believe this, but walked nevertheless to one of the forts, and had scarcely reached it when a universal rebel shout, and a simultaneous beating of the silver-tongued gongs, announced, as I thought, a general action. But though the shouts continued loud and furious from both sides, and a gun or two was discharged in the air to refresh their courage, the enemy did not attack, and a heavy shower damped the ardor of the approaching armies, and reduced all to inaction. Like the heroes of old, however, the adverse parties spoke to each other: 'We are coming, we are coming,' exclaimed the rebels; 'lay aside your muskets and fight us with swords.' 'Come on,' was the reply; 'we are building a stockade, and want to fight you.' And so the heroes ceased not to talk, but forgot to fight, except that the rebels opened a fire from Balidah from swivels, all of which went over the tops of the trees. Peace, or rather rest, being restored, our party succeeded in entrenching themselves, and thus gained a field which had been obstinately assaulted by big words and loud cries. The distance of one fort from Balidah was about 800 yards, and manned with sixty Malays; while a party of Chinese garrisoned the other. Evening fell upon this innocent warfare. The Borneons, in this manner, contend with vociferous shouts; and, preceding each shout, the leader of the party offers up a prayer aloud to the Almighty, the chorus (or properly response) being the acclamation of the soldiery. We, on our side, kept up a firing and hallooing till midnight, to disguise the advance of a party who were to seize and build a stockade within a shorter distance of Balidah. When they reached the spot, however, the night being dark, the troops sleepy, and the leaders of different opinions, they returned without effecting anything." CHAPTER VIII. Appearance of the country.--Progress of the rebel war.--Character of the Sow and Singè Dyaks.--Their belief in augury.--Ruinous effects of protracted warfare.--Cowardice and boasting of the Malays.--Council of war.--Refuse to attack the enemy's forts.--Rebels propose to treat.--The Malays oppose.--Set out to attack the rebels, but frustrated by our allies.--Assailed by the rebels.--Put them to flight.--Treat with them.--They surrender.--Intercede with the Rajah for their lives.--Renewed treachery of the Malays. "_26th._--I must here pause in my account of this extraordinary and novel contest, briefly to describe the general appearance of the country. "It is one delightful to look upon, combining all the requisites of the picturesque, viz. wood, water, mountain, cliff, and a foreground gently undulating, partially cultivated, and of the richest soil. The mountain of Sarambo, about 3000 feet in height, is the principal feature in the scene, situated at a short distance from the left bank of the river. The remainder of the ground slopes gradually; and the town of Siniawan, likewise on the left bank, is close to the water, and at the foot of the eminence called Gunga Kumiel. "The advance of the party last night was, as I have said, disguised by firing, drumming, and shouting from the fleet and forts; and, in the deep stillness of the fine night, the booming of the guns, the clamor of the gongs, and the outcries raised from time to time, came on our ears like the spirit of discord breaking loose on a fair and peaceful paradise. About one o'clock the noises died away, and I enjoyed as quiet a slumber till daylight as though pillowed on a bed of down in the heart of Old England. About six I visited the three forts. The Chinese, Malays, and Dyaks were taking their morning meal, consisting of half a cocoanut-shell full of boiled rice with salt. The Dyaks were served in tribes; for as many of them are at war, it is necessary to keep them separate; and though they will not fight the enemy, they would have no objection to fall out with one another, and the slightest cause might give rise to an instant renewal of hostilities. "About 9 A.M. a party proceeded to the elevation previously marked, within 300 yards of Balidah, and worked quietly till 2 P.M., by which time they had made considerable progress; and being then reinforced, they soon finished this new stockade, with a strong face toward their adversaries, and an outer fence. This erection, however, being below the brow of the hill, is useless as a post whence to assault Balidah; and to-morrow another stockade is to be made close to it on the summit, the present being intended to cover the working party at the next. The enemy, about 4 P.M., having discovered the stockade, opened a fire for half an hour; but finding it ineffectual, they sank into their usual apathy. It is difficult to attribute this quietude to any other cause than weakness; and they are doubtless harassed by the want of Dyak light troops, as they are unable to oppose stockade to stockade. Our party, by these successful advances, seem to gain confidence; and it must soon come to an issue one way or other. To make it favorable, I have sent for two six-pounder carronades, guns of vast caliber here, together with a small addition to our force. I had the curiosity to inquire of Macota the progress of his former campaign, when he had 1000 Malays with only a few Dyaks. He represented the enemy as active and daring then, and very different from their want of spirit now. They had, he declared, combats by sea and by land; stockade was opposed to stockade, and the fighting was constant and severe; but he never lost a man killed during the two months, and only boasted of killing five of the enemy! The principal danger in Malay warfare is the 'Mengamuk' (_Anglicè_, running a-muck), which is the last resource of a desperate man. "_27th._--The night passed quietly as usual. About 6 A.M. I started for the hills, and inspected each post in turn. They are about commencing another fort. I visited the spot to reconnoiter it; and the enemy opened a fire directly they perceived me, which we returned. They shot wretchedly ill; and the position is good, but exposed. About 10 A.M. they again began to fire from their fort, and detached thirty or forty men, who crept out between our forts in order to interrupt the work. The Malays, however, received them steadily; while the Chinese placed them between two fires, and, by a discharge from a tube, knocked down _one_ man. The rebels showed anxiety to possess themselves of their fallen comrade, while the opposite party shouted, 'Cut off his head;' but he was carried off; and the enemy, when they had saved his body, fled in all directions, dropping a number of their small bamboo powder flasks on the way. Some fierce alarms were given of an attack by water, and I went up the river to ascertain really whether there was any mischief to be expected; but there was no appearance of any adversary. A slack fire from the hill proclaimed that our work was going on there; and toward evening all was in repose. "_28th._--The stockade was completed in the evening, with ranjows stuck round the outer defence. It was excellently situated for battering Balidah; but Balidah, I fear, is too loosely constructed to be battered to the best advantage. During the day the Sow and Singè Dyaks joined, to the amount of about 150 men, and other tribes have been gradually dropping in; so that altogether there are not fewer than 500 of these men joined to our equipment. Most of them show all the characteristics of a wild people; never openly resisting their masters, but so obstinate that they can always get their own way in every thing; to all threats and entreaties opposing a determined and immovable silence. Many of them depend upon us for their food and salt, and their applications are endless. Three women of Singè are our regular pensioners; for their sex excludes them from the rations granted to the men. By these means we had many excellent opportunities of judging of their habits and temper. Among all these tribes the language differs but slightly--so slightly, indeed, that it is needless to note the variations in detail. They have the same superstition about particular birds, and I often heard this omen alluded to in conversation; but their birds are not the same as those of the sea Dyaks.... The chief of the Sarambo, explaining his reasons for leaving the rebels, urged the constant unfavorable omen of the birds as one. Often, very often, he said, when he went out, the bird cried, and flew in the direction of Siniawan, which will be explained by what I have before stated; for if they hear the bird to the right, they go to the left, and _vice versá_; so that the bird may be considered as warning them from evil. "The Sow Dyaks brought in the head of an unfortunate Malay whom they had decapitated in the jungle. This species of warfare is extremely barbarous, and in its train probably brings more evil than the regular campaigns of civilized nations. Not that it is by any means so fatal to human life directly; but it is the slow poison which wastes the strongest frame, the smoldering fire which does its work of destruction slowly but surely. Year after year it is protracted; few fall in open fight, but stragglers and prisoners are murdered; and while both weak parties, gradually growing weaker, hold their own ground, the country becomes a desert. First, trade stagnates, agriculture withers, food becomes scarce, all are ruined in finances, all half-starved and most miserable--and yet the war drags on, and the worst passions are aroused, effectually preventing the slightest concession, even if concession would avail. But each combatant knows the implacable spirit--the deep desperation--of the other too well to trust them; and if at length the fortunes of famine decide against them, they die rather than yield; for a Dyak can die bravely, I believe, though he will not fight as long as life has any prospect. This is also the case here: for the rebel chiefs know there is no pardon, and the Bandar is disgraced if he fails. It is indeed a slow process, but one of extermination. "_29th._--Our guns arrived with a welcome reinforcement. In the evening I dropped up the river to reconnoiter; but the adversary discovered us, as we were dressed in white clothes. "_30th._--Fort not finished. All quiet. "_31st._--Got the guns and ammunition up, and while fixing them opened a fire from one of our swivels to overbear the fire of the enemy. The little piece was well served; and, in a quarter of an hour, we silenced their fire entirely, and knocked about the timber considerably, making a breach which several men could enter together. Seeing the effect, I proposed to Macota to storm the place with 150 Chinese and Malays. The way from one fort to the other was protected. The enemy dared not show themselves for the fire of the grape and canister, and nothing could have been easier; but my proposition caused a commotion which it is difficult to forget, and more difficult to describe. The Chinese consented, and Macota, the commander-in-chief, was willing; but his inferiors were backward, and there arose a scene which showed me the full violence of the Malay passions, and their infuriated madness when once roused. Pangeran Houseman urged with energy the advantage of the proposal, and in the course of a speech lashed himself to a state of fury; he jumped to his feet, and with demoniac gestures stamped round and round, dancing a war-dance after the most approved fashion; his countenance grew livid, his eyes glared, his features inflamed; and, for my part, not being able to interpret the torrent of his oratory, I thought the man possessed of a devil, or about to 'run a-muck.' But after a minute or two of this dance, he resumed his seat, furious and panting, but silent. In reply, Subtu urged some objections to my plan, which was warmly supported by Illudeen, who apparently hurt Subtu's feelings; for the indolent, the placid Subtu leapt from his seat, seized his spear, and rushed to the entrance of the stockade, with his passions and his pride desperately aroused. I never saw finer action than when, with spear in hand, pointing to the enemy's fort, he challenged any one to rush on with him. Houseman and Surradeen (the bravest of the brave) like madmen seized their swords to inflame the courage of the rest--it was a scene of fiends--but in vain; for though they appeared ready enough to quarrel and fight among themselves, there was no move to attack the enemy. All was confusion; the demon of discord and madness was among them, and I was glad to see them cool down, when the dissentients to the assault proposed making a round to-night and attacking to-morrow. In the mean time our six-pounders were ready in battery, and it is certain the assailants might walk nearly to the fort without any of the rebels daring to show themselves in opposition to our fire. "_Nov. 1st._--The guns were ready to open their fiery mouths, and their masters ready to attend on them; but both had to wait till mid-day, when the chiefs of the grand army, having sufficiently slept, breakfasted, and bathed, lounged up with their straggling followers. Shortly after daylight the forts are nearly deserted of their garrisons, who go down at the time to the water more like a flock of geese than warriors. The instant the main division and head-quarters of the army arrived at the battery, I renewed my proposal for an assault, Which was variously received. If the Malays would go, the Chinese agreed; but the Malays had grown colder and colder. In order to encourage them, I opened a fire to show the effect of our guns; and having got a good range, every ball, as well as grape and canister, rattled against and through the wood. I then urged them again and again, but in vain; that coward Panglima rajah displayed that dogged resolution which is invincible--an invincible resolution to do nothing; and the cold damp looks of the others at once told the amount of their bravery! A council of war was called--grave faces covered timid hearts and fainting spirits. The Chinese contended with justice, that in fairness they could not be expected to assault without the Malays did the same; Abong Mia was not brave enough. The Datu agreed, and Panglima delivered himself of a wise harangue, to the effect that, 'the last campaign, when they had a fort, how had the enemy fired then?--stabbed them, speared them, &c. &c.; and without a fort, assaulting!--how could it be expected they should succeed? how unreasonable they should go at all!' But even his stolid head seemed to comprehend the sarcasm when I asked him how many men had been killed during all this severe fighting. However, it was clear that it was no battle. We were all very savage, and I intimated how useless my being with them was, if they intended to play instead of fight. 'What,' I asked, 'if you will not attack, are you going to do?' Oh, the wise councils of these wise heads! Abong Mia proposed erecting a fort in a tree, and thence going 'puff, puff,' down into Balidah, accompanying the words 'puff, puff,' with expressive gestures of firing; but it was objected, that trees were scarce, and the enemy might cut down the tree, fort and all. [11] "_2d._--Till two o'clock last night, or thereabouts, I sat on our rampart and gazed upon the prospect around, shaded with gloom. The doctor was with me, and we ran over every subject--the past, present, and the future. Such a scene--a rude fort in the interior of Borneo; such a night, dark but starlight--leaves an indelible impression on the mind, which recurs to move it even after long years. The morning, however, found us ready, and no one else. The fort was left to ourselves; we waited and waited until 2 P.M., when I was made aware that all thoughts of attack were at an end. Macota, for very shame, staid below; and I must say there was not a countenance that met mine but had that bashful and hang-dog look which expresses cowardice and obstinacy predominant, yet shame battling within. They were now resolved not to make the attempt; and I asked them casually whether they would fly a white flag, and hold a conference with the enemy. They caught at the alternatives; the flag was hoisted; the rebels were ready to _meet me_, and it was agreed that we should assemble on the morrow. But no sooner was the arrangement made than a thousand objections were started, and any thing, even attack itself (though that was out of the question), was held to be preferable. I need not dwell on this mixture of deceit and fear; in short, as they would do nothing themselves, they expected us to do nothing: and without the courage to carry on the war, they had not either wisdom or sorcery to bring it to a conclusion. "_3d._--Dispatched an express during last night to the rajah, and received an answer that he was coming up in person; but my resolve was taken, and I quitted the grand army, much to their evident surprise and vexation. Nevertheless, they were still friendly and polite, and very very lazy about bringing down our guns. This was, however, done at last, and we were ready for a start. "_4th._--Reached the ship at two P.M., saw rajah, &c. &c. "From the 4th to the 10th of November I may condense into the shape of a narrative. I explained to the rajah how useless it was my remaining, and intimated to him my intention of departing; but his deep regret was so visible, that even all the self-command of the native could not disguise it. He begged, he entreated me to stay, and offered me the country of Siniawan and Sarawak, and its government and trade, if I would only stop, and not desert him. I could at once have obtained this grant, but I preferred interposing a delay; because to accept such a boon when imposed by necessity, or from a feeling of gratitude for recent assistance, would have rendered it both suspicious and useless; and I was by no means eager to enter on the task (the full difficulties of which I clearly foresaw) without the undoubted and spontaneous support of the rajah. "_Jan. 8th, 1841._--The following narrative, extracted from my journal, includes a period from the 10th of December to the 4th of January, and it is put into its present shape to avoid the tedium of detailing each day's proceedings. On the 10th of December we reached the fleet and disembarked our guns, taking up our residence in a house, or rather shed, close to the water. The rajah's brother, Pangeran Budrudeen, was with the army, and I found him ready and willing to urge upon the other indolent Pangerans the proposals I made for vigorous hostilities. We found the grand army in a state of torpor, eating, drinking, and walking up to the forts and back again daily; but having built these imposing structures, and their appearance not driving the enemy away, they were at a loss what next to do, or how to proceed. On my arrival, I once more insisted on mounting the guns in our old forts, and assaulting Balidah under their fire. Macota's timidity and vacillation were too apparent; but in consequence of Budrudeen's overawing presence, he was obliged, from shame, to yield his assent. The order for the attack was fixed as follows:--Our party of ten (leaving six to serve the guns) were to be headed by myself. Budrudeen, Macota, Subtu, and all the lesser chiefs, were to lead their followers, from 60 to 80 in number, by the same route, while 50 or more Chinese, under their captain, were to assault by another path to the left. Macota was to make the paths as near as possible to Balidah, with his Dyaks, who were to extract the sudas and fill up the holes. The guns having been mounted and their range well ascertained the previous evening, we ascended to the fort at about eight A.M., and at ten opened our fire, and kept it up for an hour. The effect was severe: every shot told upon their thin defences of wood, which fell in many places so as to leave storming breaches. Part of the roof was cut away and tumbled down, and the shower of grape and canister rattled so as to prevent their returning our fire, except from a stray rifle. At mid-day the forces reached the fort, and it was then discovered that Macota had neglected to make any road because it rained the night before! It was evident that the rebels had gained information of our intention, as they had erected a frieze of bamboo along their defences on the very spot which we had agreed to mount. Macota fancied the want of a road would delay the attack; but I well knew that delay was equivalent to failure, and so it was at once agreed that we should advance without any path. The poor man's cunning and resources were now nearly at an end. He could not refuse to accompany us; but his courage could not be brought to the point, and, pale and embarrassed, he retired. Everything was ready--Budrudeen, the Capitan China, and myself, at the head of our men--when he once more appeared, and raised a subtle point of etiquet which answered his purpose. He represented to Budrudeen that the Malays were unanimously of opinion that the rajah's brother could not expose himself in an assault; that their dread of the rajah's indignation far exceeded the dread of death; and in case any accident happened to him, his brother's fury would fall on them. They stated their readiness to assault the place; but in case Budrudeen insisted on leading in person, they must decline accompanying him. Budrudeen was angry, I was angry too, and the doctor most angry of all; but anger was unavailing: it was clear they did not intend to do anything in earnest; and after much discussion, in which Budrudeen insisted that if I went he should likewise go, and the Malays insisted that if he went they would not go, it was resolved we should serve the guns, while Abong Mia and the Chinese (not under the captain) should proceed to the assault. But its fate was sealed, and Macota had gained his object; for neither he nor Subtu thought of exposing themselves to a single shot. Our artillery opened and was beautifully served. The adverse troops advanced; but our fire completely subdued them, as only three rifles answered us, by one of which a seaman (Williams) was wounded in the hand, but not seriously. Two-thirds of the way the storming-party proceeded without the enemy being aware of their advance; and they might have reached the very foot of the hill without being discovered, had not Abong Mia, from excess of piety and rashness, begun most loudly to say his prayers. The three rifles then began to play on them; one Chinaman was killed, the whole halted, the prayers were more vehement than ever, and, after squatting under cover of the jungle for some time, they all returned. It was only what I expected; but I was greatly annoyed at their cowardice and treachery--treachery to their own cause. One lesson, however, I learned, and that was, that, had I assaulted with our small party, we should assuredly have been victimized! The very evening of the failure the rajah came up the river. I would not see him, and only heard that the chiefs got severely reprimanded; but the effects of reprimand are lost where cowardice is stronger than shame. Inactivity followed; two or three useless forts were built, and Budrudeen, much to my regret and the detriment of the cause, was recalled. "Among the straggling arrivals I may mention Panglima Dallam, with a number of men, consisting of the Orang Bentulu, Meri Muka, and Kayan, Dyaks from the interior. Our house--or, as it originally stood, shed--deserves a brief record. It was about twenty feet long, with a loose floor of reeds, and an attop roof. It served us for some time; but the attempts at theft obliged us to fence it in and divide it into apartments: one at the end served Middleton, Williamson, and myself; adjoining it was the store-room and hospital; and the other extreme belonged to the seamen. Our improvements kept pace with our necessities. Theft induced us to shut in our house at the sides, and the unevenness of the reeds suggested the advantage of laying a floor of the bark of trees over them, which, with mats over all, rendered our domicile far from uncomfortable. Our forts gradually extended at the back of the enemy's town, on a ridge of swelling ground; while they kept pace with us on the same side of the river on the low ground. The inactivity of our troops had long become a by-word among us. It was indeed truly vexatious, but it was in vain to urge them on, in vain to offer assistance, in vain to propose a joint attack, or even to seek support at their hands; promises were to be had in plenty, but performances never! "At length the leaders resolved on building a fort at Sekundis, thus outflanking the enemy and gaining the command of the river. The post was certainly an important one, and in consequence they set about it with the happy indifference which characterizes their proceedings. Pangeran Illudeen (the most active among them) had the building of the fort, assisted by the Orang Kaya Tumangong of Lundu. Macota, Subtu, &c. were at the next fort, and by chance I was there likewise; for it seemed to be little apprehended that any interruption would take place, as the Chinese and the greater number of Malays had not left the boats. When the fort commenced, however, the enemy crossed the river and divided into two bodies, the one keeping in check the party at Pangeran Gapoor's fort, while the other made an attack on the works. The ground was not unfavorable for their purpose; for Pangeran Gapoor's fort was separated from Sekundis by a belt of thick wood which reached down to the river's edge. Sekundis itself, however, stood on clear ground, as did Gapoor's fort. I was with Macota at the latter when the enemy approached through the jungle. The two parties were within easy speaking distances, challenging and threatening each other; but the thickness of the jungle prevented our seeing or penetrating to them. When this body had advanced, the real attack commenced on Sekundis with a fire of musketry, and I was about proceeding to the scene, but was detained by Macota, who assured me there were plenty of men, and that it was nothing at all. As the musketry became thicker, I had my doubts, when a Dyak came running through the jungle, and with gestures of impatience and anxiety begged me to assist the party attacked. He had been sent by my old friend the Tumangong of Lundu, to say they could not hold the post unless supported. In spite of Macota's remonstrances, I struck into the jungle, winded through the narrow path, and after crossing an ugly stream, emerged on the clear ground. The sight was a pretty one: to the right was the unfinished stockade, defended by the Tumangong; to the left, at the edge of the forest, about twelve or fifteen of our party, commanded by Illudeen, while the enemy were stretched along between the points and kept up a sharp shooting from the hollow ground on the bank of the river. They fired, and loaded, and fired, and had gradually advanced on the stockade as the ammunition of our party failed; and as we emerged from the jungle, they were within twenty or five and twenty yards of the defence. A glance immediately showed me the advantage of our position, and I charged with my Europeans across the padi-field; and the instant we appeared on the ridge above the river, in the hollows of which the rebels were seeking protection, their rout was complete. They scampered off in every direction, while the Dyaks and Malays pushed them into the river. Our victory was decisive and bloodless: the scene was changed in an instant, and the defeated foe lost arms, ammunition, &c. &c., whether on the field of battle or in the river, and our exulting conquerors set no bounds to their triumph. "I cannot omit to mention the name of Si Tundo, the only native who charged with us. His appearance and dress were most striking, the latter being entirely of red, bound round the waist, arms, forehead, &c. with gold ornaments; and in his hand bearing his formidable Bajuck sword, he danced or rather galloped across the field close to me, and mixing with the enemy was about to dispatch a hadji or priest who was prostrate before him, when one of our people interposed and saved him by stating that he was a companion of our own. The Lundu Dyaks were very thankful for our support, our praises were loudly sung, and the stockade was concluded. After the rout, Macota, Subtu, and Abong Mia arrived on the field; the latter with forty followers had ventured half way before the firing ceased, but the detachment, under a paltry subterfuge, halted, so as not to be in time. The enemy might have had fifty men at the attack; the defending party consisted of about the same number; but the Dyaks had very few muskets. I had a dozen Englishmen, Seboo, one of our boatmen, and Si Tundo. Sekundis was a great point gained, as it hindered the enemy from ascending the river and seeking any supplies. "Macota, Subtu, and the whole tribe arrived as soon as their safety from danger allowed, and none were louder in their own praise; but nevertheless their countenances evinced some sense of shame, which they endeavored to disguise by the use of their tongues. The Chinese came really to afford assistance, but too late. We remained until the stockade of Sekundis was finished, while the enemy kept up a wasteful fire from the opposite side of the river, which did no harm. "The next great object was to follow up the advantage by crossing the stream; but day after day some fresh excuse brought on fresh delay, and Macota built a new fort and made a new road within a hundred yards of our old position. I cannot detail further our proceedings for many days, which consisted on my part of efforts to get something done, and on the others a close adherence to the old system of promising everything and doing nothing. The Chinese, like the Malays, refused to act; but on their part, it was not fear, but disinclination. By degrees, however, the preparations for the new fort were complete, and I had gradually gained over a party of the natives to my views; and, indeed, among the Malays, the bravest of them had joined themselves to us, and what was better, we had Datu Pangeran, thirteen Illanuns, and the Capitan China allowed me to take his men whenever I wanted them. My weight and consequence were increased, and I rarely moved now without a long train of followers. The next step (while crossing the river was uncertain) was to take my guns up to Gapoor's fort, which was about 600 or 700 yards from the town, and half the distance from a rebel fort on the river's bank. "Panglima Rajah, the day after our guns were in battery, took it into his head to build a fort on the river's side close to the town, in front and between two of the enemy's forts. It was a bold undertaking for the old man, after six weeks of uninterrupted repose. At night, the wood being prepared, the party moved down, and worked so silently that they were not discovered till their defence was nearly finished, when the enemy commenced a general firing from all their forts, returned by a similar firing from all ours, none of the parties being quite clear what they were firing at or about, and the hottest from either party being equally harmless. We were at the time about going to bed in our habitation; but expecting some reverse, I set off (to scale the hills) to the stockade where our guns were placed, and opened a fire upon the town and the stockade near us, till the enemy's fire gradually slackened and died away. We then returned, and in the morning were greeted with the pleasing news that they had burned and deserted five of their forts, and left us sole occupants of the right bank of the river. The same day, going through the jungle to see one of these deserted forts, we came upon a party of the enemy, and had a brief skirmish with them before they took to flight. Nothing can be more unpleasant to a European than this bush-fighting, where he scarce sees a foe, while he is well aware that their eyesight is far superior to his own. To proceed with this narrative, I may say that four or five forts were built on the edge of the river opposite the enemy's town, and distant not above 50 or 60 yards; here our guns were removed, and a fresh battery formed ready for a bombardment, and fire-balls essayed to ignite the houses. "At this time Seriff Jaffer, from Singè, arrived with about seventy men, Malays and Dyaks of Balow. The river Singè being situated close to Sarebus, and incessant hostilities being waged between the two places, he, with his followers, was both more active and more warlike than the Borneons, but their warfare consists of closing hand to hand with spear and sword. They scarcely understood the proper use of fire-arms, and were of little use in attacking stockades. As a negotiator, however, the seriff bore a distinguished part; and on his arrival a parley ensued, much against Macota's will, and some meetings took place between Jaffer and a brother seriff at Siniawan, named Moksain. After ten days' delay nothing came of it, though the enemy betrayed great desire to yield. This negotiation being at an end, we had a day's bombardment and a fresh treaty brought about thus; Macota being absent at Sarawak, I received a message from Seriff Jaffer and Pangeran Subtu to say that they wished to meet me; and on my consenting, they stated that Seriff Jaffer felt confident the war might be brought to an end, though alone he dared not treat with the rebels; but in case I felt inclined to join him, we could bring it to a favorable conclusion. I replied that our habits of treating were very unlike their own, as we allowed no delays to interpose; but that I would unite with him for one interview, and if that interview was favorable, we might meet the chiefs at once and settle it, or put an end to all farther treating. Pangeran Subtu was delighted with the proposition, urged its great advantages, and the meeting by my desire for that very night, the place Pangeran Illudeen's fort at Sekundis. The evening arrived, and at dark we were at the appointed place, and a message was dispatched for Seriff Moksain. In the mean time, however, came a man from Pangeran Subtu to beg us to hold no intercourse; that the rebels were false, meant to deceive us, and if any did come, we had better make them prisoners. Seriff Jaffer, after arguing the point some time, rose to depart, remarking that with such proceedings he would not consent to treat. I urged him to stay; but finding him bent on going, I ordered my gig (which had some time before been brought overland) to be put into the water, my intention being to proceed to the enemy's campong, and there hear what they had to say. I added that it was folly to leave undone what we had agreed to do in the morning because Pangeran Subtu changed his mind--that I had come to treat, and treat I would. I would not go away now without giving the enemy a fair hearing--for the good of all parties I would do it; and if the seriff liked to join me, as we proposed before, and wait for Seriff Moksain, good; if not, I would go in the boat to the campong. My Europeans, on being ordered, jumped up, ran out and brought the boat to the water's edge, and in a few minutes oars, rudder, and rowlocks were in her. My companions, seeing this, came to terms, and we waited for Seriff Moksain; during which, however, I overheard a whispering conversation from Subtu's messenger, proposing to seize him; and my temper was ruffled to such a degree that I drew out a pistol, and told him I would shoot him dead if he dared to seize, or talk of seizing, any man who trusted himself from the enemy to meet me! The scoundrel slunk off, and we were no more troubled with him. This past, Seriff Moksain arrived, and was introduced into our fortress alone--alone and unarmed in an enemy's stockade, manned with two hundred men! His bearing was firm; he advanced with ease and took his seat; and, during the interview, the only sign of uneasiness was the quick glance of his eye from side to side. The object he aimed at was to gain my guaranty that the lives of all the rebels should be spared; but this I had it not in my power to grant. He returned to his campong, and came again toward morning, when it was agreed that Seriff Jaffer and myself should meet the Patingis and the Tumangong, and arrange terms with them. By the time our conference was over, the day broke, and we descended to the boats to enjoy a little rest. "On the 20th of December we met with the chiefs on the river; and they expressed themselves ready to yield, without conditions, to the rajah, if I would promise that they should not be put to death. My reply was, that I could give no such promise; that if they surrendered, it must be for life or death, according to the rajah's pleasure; and all I could do was to use my influence in order to save their lives. To this they assented after a while; but then there arose the more difficult question, how they were to be protected until the rajah's orders arrived. They dreaded both Chinese and Malays, especially the former, who had just cause for angry feelings, and who, it was feared, would make an attack on them directly their surrender had taken from them their means of defence. The Malays would not assail them in a body, but would individually plunder them, and give occasion for disputes and bloodshed. These apprehensions were almost sufficient to break off the hitherto favorable negotiations, had I not proposed to them myself to undertake their defence, and to become responsible for their safety until the orders of their sovereign arrived. On my pledging myself to this, they yielded up their strong fort of Balidah, the key of their position. I immediately made it known to our own party that no boats were to ascend or descend the river, and that any persons attacking or pillaging the rebels were my enemies, and that I should fire upon them without hesitation. "Both Chinese and Malaya agreed to the propriety of the measure, and gave me the strongest assurances of restraining their respective followers, the former with good faith, the latter with the intention of involving matters, if possible, to the destruction of the rebels. By the evening we were in possession of Balidah, and certainly found it a formidable fortress, situated on a steep mound, with dense defences of wood, triple deep, and surrounded by two inclosures, thickly studded on the outside with ranjows. The effect of our fire had shaken it completely, now much to our discomfort; for the walls were tottering, and the roof as leaky as a sieve. On the 20th of December, then, the war closed. The very next day, contrary to stipulation, the Malay Pangerans tried to ascend the river, and when stopped began to expostulate. After preventing many, the attempt was made by Subtu and Pangeran Hassim, in three large boats, boldly pulling toward us. Three hails did not check them, and they came on in spite of a blank cartridge and a wide ball, to turn them back. But I was resolved; and when a dozen musket-balls whistled over and fell close around them, they took to an ignominious flight. I subsequently upbraided them for this breach of promise, and Macota loudly declared they had _been greatly to blame_; but I discovered that he himself had set them on. "I may now briefly conclude this detail. I ordered the rebels to burn all their stockades, which they did at once, and delivered up the greater part of their arms; and I proceeded to the rajah to request from him their lives. Those who know the Malay character will appreciate the difficulty of the attempt to stand between the monarch and his victims; I only succeeded when, at the end of a long debate--I soliciting, he denying--I rose to bid him farewell, as it was my intention to sail directly, since, after all my exertions in his cause, if he would not grant me the lives of the people, I could only consider that his friendship for me was at an end. On this he yielded. I must own that during the discussion he had much the best of it; for he urged that they had forfeited their lives by the law, as a necessary sacrifice to the future peace of the country; and argued that in a similar case in my own native land no leniency would be shown. On the contrary, my reasoning, though personal, was, on the whole, the best for the rajah and the people. I stated my extreme reluctance to have the blood of conquered foes shed; the shame I should experience in being a party, however involuntarily, to their execution; and the general advantage of a merciful line of policy. At the same time I told him their lives were forfeited, their crimes had been of a heinous and unpardonable nature, and it was only from so humane a man as himself, one with so kind a heart, that I could ask for their pardon; but I added, he well knew that it was only my previous knowledge of his benevolent disposition, and the great friendship I felt for him, which had induced me to take any part in this struggle. Other stronger reasons might have been brought forward, which I forbore to employ, as being repugnant to his princely pride, viz. that severity in this case would arm many against him, raise powerful enemies in Borneo Proper, as well as here, and greatly impede the future right government of the country. However, I gained my point, and was satisfied. "Having fulfilled this engagement, and being moreover, together with many of my Europeans, attacked with an ague, I left the scene with all the dignity of complete success. Subsequently, the rebels were ordered to deliver up all their arms, ammunition, and property; and last, the wives and children of the principal people were demanded as hostages, and obtained. The women and children were treated with kindness, and preserved from injury or wrong. Siniawan thus dwindled away; the poorer men stole off in canoes and were scattered about, most of them coming to Sarawak. The better class pulled down the houses, abandoned the town, and lived in boats for a month; when, alarmed by the delay and impelled by hunger, they also fled--Patingi Gapoor, it was said, to Sambas; and Patingi Ali and the Tumangong among the Dyaks. After a time it was supposed they would return and receive their wives and children. The army gradually dispersed to seek food, and the Chinese were left in possession of the once-renowned Siniawan, the ruin of which they completed by burning all that remained, and erecting a village for themselves in the immediate neighborhood. Seriff Jaffer and many others departed to their respective homes, and the pinching of famine succeeded to the horrors of war. Fruit being in season, helped to support the wretched people, and the near approach of the rice-harvest kept up their spirits." CHAPTER IX. Retrospect of Mr. Brooke's proceeding and prospects.--Visit of a pirate fleet.--Intercourse with the chief leaders, and other characteristic incidents.--War dances.--Use of opium.--Story of Si Tundo.--Preparations for trading.--Conditions of the cession of Sarawak. I have gone into the details of this curious rebellion, and selected from my friend's memoranda more, perhaps, than the actual and present importance of the circumstances might seem to require; but I have done so under the impression that in developing the traits and lineaments of the native character, I am laying the foundation for a more accurate estimate of them and their bearing upon futurity. The difference between the Malay and the Chinese, between the sea and the land Dyak, and even between one tribe and another, presents a variety of elements out of which a consistent whole has to be compounded, and a new state of things to be established in Borneo. It is, therefore, of considerable interest to view these elements in their earliest contact with European mind and civilization, and thence endeavor to shape out the course which is best calculated to insure the welfare of all in the closer ties and more extended connection which is springing out of this new intercourse. To enlarge the beneficial effects of trade and commerce, it is not enough to ascertain the products of a strange country, nor even the chief wants of its population; but to inform ourselves of their habits, feelings, and disposition, and so devise the wisest measures for supplying what is immediate, removing obstacles, and increasing demand by a continually growing improvement in government and general condition. Following the war, and receiving the investiture of the government of Sarawak, Mr. Brooke was enabled, from the insight he had obtained into the diversified relations and habits, motives and ways of thinking of these people, to address himself clearly and at once to reform the evils which oppressed, and the abuses which destroyed them. Had he not mixed with them and shared in this protracted contest, he must have begun rather as an experimentalist with a theory which might be right or might be wrong. But he had acquired the necessary experience, and could proceed to put his finger where it was required to repress or to foster, without danger of mistake. It was extraordinary what his energy produced within a small compass of time. Security succeeded the utmost uncertainty, equal justice superseded tyrannical caprice, order arose out of confusion, and peace was gradually spread over the fruitful soil so lately polluted by the murderous warfare of heads-taking and imperishable feud. It is to be hoped that such an example will not be lost in the further prosecution of international and commercial policy in this interesting and important quarter of the eastern world. Piracy must be put down, slavery must be effaced, industry must be cherished and protected; and these objects, we shall see, from the model afforded by our truly illustrious countryman, may be accomplished; and we may further learn from his example, that from the experience even of "a little war," an enlightened observer may deduce the most sound data on which to commence a mighty change, leading, probably, to the happiness of millions, and the foundation of colonial empire. With these few retrospective remarks, I resume the sequel of my friend's Bornean Journal. "Our subsequent adventures," he notes, "may be easily related. We lay for some days, after winding up our affairs, in order to have an agreement drawn out between the rajah and myself, and during this time heard the bruit of a pirate fleet being on the coast. In a day or two after, certain news arrived of their having taken two Sadung boats, bound from Singapore, and Datu Pangeran was, in consequence, dispatched to communicate with them. He returned from Tanjong Datu, bringing the fleet with him to the mouth of the river, whence they requested permission to visit Sarawak, and pay their respects to the rajah. I was consulted on the subject whether I would meet them; and as I preferred a pacific to a hostile rencounter, and had, moreover, a considerable curiosity to see these roving gentry, I consented without hesitation. Reports--a greater curse in Malay countries than elsewhere--stated their object to be the capture of the Royalist, as they had, it was averred, received positive accounts of her having fifty lacks of dollars on board, and that her figure-head was of solid gold. As, however, we had no such treasure, and the meeting was unavoidable, and might be hostile, I put myself into a complete posture of defense, with a determination neither to show backwardness nor suspicion. The day arrived, and the pirates swept up the river; eighteen prahus, one following the other, decorated with flags and streamers, and firing both cannon and musketry; the sight was interesting and curious, and heightened by the conviction that these friends of the moment might be enemies the next. Having taken their stations, the chief men proceeded to an interview with the rajah, which I attended to witness. Some distrust and much ceremony marked the meeting; and both parties had numerous followers, who filled the hall of audience and the avenues leading to it; and as few of the Illanuns spoke Malay, the communication was rendered difficult and troublesome. The pirates consisted of Illanuns and Malukus from Gillolo. The Illanuns are fine athletic men, with a strong resemblance in appearance to the Bugis; their bearing was haughty and reserved, and they seemed quite ready to be friends or foes, as best suited their purpose. The Malukus are from a bay in Gillolo, and their country is now in possession of the Dutch; they are a darker and an uglier race, but their manners more supple and pliant. They were the principal talkers, while the Illanuns maintained a dignified silence. "These Malukus, from their own account, since the capture of their rajah, and the subjugation of their country, have led a wandering, piratical life; they represent their force at about twenty-five boats, of which three are now joined by the Illanuns, as a matter of mere convenience. Beyond the usual formalities, this meeting had nothing to distinguish it; one party retired to their boats, while the other went to their respective houses, and every thing betokened quiet. In the evening I pulled through the fleet, and inspected several of the largest prahus. The entire force consisted of eighteen boats, viz., three Malukus and fifteen Illanuns; the smallest of these boats carried thirty men, the largest (they are mostly large) upward of a hundred; so that, at a moderate computation, the number of fighting men might be reckoned at from five to six hundred. The Illanum expedition had been absent from Magindano upward of three years, during which time they had cruised among the Moluccas and islands to the eastward, had haunted Boni Bay and Celebes, and beat up the Straits of Makassar. Many of their boats, however, being worn out, they had fitted out Bugis prize prahus, and were now on their return home. They had recently attacked one of the Tambelan islands, and had been repulsed; and report said they intended a descent upon Sirhassan, one of the Southern Natunas group. These large prahus are too heavy to pull well, though they carry thirty, forty, and even fifty oars: their armament is one or two six-pounders in the bow, one four-pounder stern-chaser, and a number of swivels, besides musketry, spears, and swords. The boat is divided into three sections, and fortified with strong planks, one behind the bow, one amidships, and one astern, to protect the steersman. The women and children are crammed down below, where the unhappy prisoners are likewise stowed away during an action. Their principal plan is boarding a vessel, if possible, and carrying her by numbers; and certainly if a merchantman fired ill, she would inevitably be taken; but with grape and canister fairly directed, the slaughter would be so great that they would be glad to sheer off before they neared a vessel. This is, of course, supposing a calm, for in a breeze they would never have the hardihood to venture far from land with a ship in sight, and would be sorry to be caught at a distance. Their internal constitution is as follows: one chief, a man usually of rank, commands the whole fleet; each boat has her captain, and generally from five to ten of his relations, free men: the rest, amounting to above four fifths, are slaves, more or less forced to pursue this course of life. They have, however, the right of plunder, which is indiscriminate with certain exceptions; viz., slaves, guns, money, or any other heavy articles, together with the very finest description of silks and cloths, belonging to the chiefs and free men; and the rest obey the rule of 'First come, first served.' No doubt the slaves become attached to this predatory course of life; but it must always be remembered that they are slaves and have no option; and it appears to me that, in the operation of our laws, some distinction ought to be drawn on this account, to suit the circumstances of the case. The Datus, or chiefs, are incorrigible; for they are pirates by descent, robbers from pride as well as taste, and they look upon the occupation as the most honorable hereditary pursuit. They are indifferent to blood, fond of plunder, but fondest of slaves: they despise trade, though its profits be greater; and, as I have said, they look upon this as their 'calling,' and the noblest occupation of chiefs and free men. Their swords they show with boasts, as having belonged to their ancestors who were pirates, renowned and terrible in their day; and they always speak of their ancestral heir-loom as decayed from its pristine vigor, but still deem the wielding of it as the highest of earthly existences. That it is in reality the most accursed, there can be no doubt, for its chief support is slaves they capture on the different coasts. If they attack an island, the women and children, and as many of the young men as they require, are carried off. Every boat they take furnishes its quota of slaves; and when they have a _full cargo_, they quit that coast or country and visit another, in order to dispose of their human spoil to the best advantage. Thus a cargo of slaves, captured on the east coast of Borneo, is sold on the west; and the slaves of the south find ready purchasers to the northward, and _vice versâ_. As the woolly-haired Papuas are generally prized by the natives, constant visits are made to New Guinea and the easternmost islands, where they are procured, and afterward sold at high prices among any Malay community. The great nests of piracy are Magindano, Sooloo, and the northern part of Borneo; and the devastation and misery they inflict on the rest of the Archipelago are well known; yet are no measures adopted for their suppression, as every European community, be it English, Dutch, or Spanish, seems quite satisfied to clear the vicinity of its own ports, and never considers the damage to the native trade which takes place at a distance. To be attacked with success, they must be attacked on their own coasts with two or three steamers. A little money would gain every intelligence as to where they were preparing; and while the steamers were so worthily engaged in suppressing piracy, they might at the same time be acquiring information respecting countries little known, and adding to our stock of geography and science. A few severe examples and constant harassing would soon cure this hereditary and personal mania for a rover's life; and while we conferred the greatest blessings on the rest of the Archipelago, Magindano itself would be improved by the change. "The Illanun Datus and the Gillolo chiefs visited the schooner constantly, and were always considerate enough to bring but few followers. We conversed much upon piracy in general, their mode of life, their successes, and their privations. They seemed to have but few fears of the Dutch or English men-of-war being able to take them, and during their three years' cruise had never been chased by any of them. "After being three or four days in company with these worthies, _i. e._, the fleet of Illanuns and Malukus, the Royalist dropped down the river to Santobong, while Williamson and myself stayed yet a few days with Muda Hassim in his house. We had a week's incessant torrent of rain. Nothing could exceed the kindness of the rajah during our stay, with his brothers, of all ages, as our constant companions. We had one day a dance of the Illanuns and Gillolos: they might both be called war-dances, but are very different. The performer with the Illanuns is decked out with a _fine helmet_ (probably _borrowed_ from our early voyagers), ornamented with bird-of-paradise feathers. Two gold belts, crossed, like our soldiers', over the breast, are bound at the waist with a fantastical garment reaching half way down the thigh, and composed of various-colored silk and woolen threads one above another. The sword, or 'kempilan,' is decorated at the handle with a yard or two of red cloth, and the long upright shield is covered with small rings, which clash as the performer goes through his evolutions. The dance itself consists of a variety of violent warlike gestures, stamping, striking, advancing, retreating, turning, falling, yelling, with here and there bold stops, and excellent as to _àplomb_, which might have elicited the applause of the opera-house; but, generally speaking, the performance was outrageously fierce, and so far natural as approaching to an actual combat; and in half an hour the dancer, a fine young man, was so exhausted that he fell, fainting, into the arms of his comrades. Several others succeeded, but not equal to the first; and we had hardly a fair opportunity of judging of the Maluku dance from its short continuance; but it is of a more gentle nature, advancing with the spear stealthily, easting it, then retreating with the sword and shield. The Maluku shield, it should be observed, is remarkably narrow, and is brandished somewhat in the same way as the single stick-player uses his stick, or the Irishman his shillelah, that is to say, it is held nearly in the center, and whirled every way round. I procured some of the instruments, and found that the sword of the Malukus of Gillolo is similar to that of the Moskokas of Boni Bay, in Celebes. All these pirates are addicted to the _excessive_ use of opium; but the effects of it are by no means so deleterious or so strongly marked as has been represented; and it must likewise be remembered that they are in other respects dissolute and debauched. Among the Chinese it would be difficult--nay, impossible--to detect the smokers of the drug. Here and there you may see an emaciated man; but, out of a body of five hundred, some are usually emaciated and unhealthy. I do not mean to deny the bad effects of opium; but the stories of its pernicious results are greatly exaggerated where the habit exists in moderation. The Chinese themselves, when I spoke to them of the bad consequences, always argued that, taken moderately, it was a stimulus to industry and activity; but they allowed, at the same time, that excess was highly injurious. "The time at length came for my departure, but I was pressed to stay one day after another, for our society was a relief to the usual monotonous tenor of their lives. The papers were signed which made me Resident of Sarawak. I started to Santobong, and reached the vessel on the 13th of February; and after waiting two days, in the vain hope of a lull or change of wind, we beat out of the channel." Mr. Brooke did not remain long at Singapore. His principal object was to procure a vessel to trade between that place and Sarawak. Trading, however, was not his forte; but he already felt the deepest interest in the welfare of those people. By accident--or, more properly, by Providence--he appears to have been sent to put a stop to an unnatural war, and to save the lives of the unfortunate rebels; and the benefit he had conferred on so many of his fellow-creatures, the good he had already done, and the infinity of good which he saw he still might do, made him anxious to return. After some difficulty, he succeeded in purchasing a schooner of 90 tons, called the Swift, which I recollected in the Malacca Straits as the Zephyr, then a cruiser in the East India Company's service. Having put a suitable cargo into her, he sailed with his squadron (Royalist and Swift) for Sarawak early in April, 1841. The rajah, already described as an indolent, weak-minded man, had promised Mr. Brooke the government of the country; but, among other obstacles with which he would have to contend in accepting it, I do not think my friend calculated on jealousy, low cunning, and treachery, or the dangerous enemy he had made in Pangeran Macota. He had been an eye-witness to his cowardice, and had more than once detected and exposed his cunning and trickery; sins not to be forgiven, especially by a Malay. Notwithstanding this, firmness, courage, and straightforward honesty gained the victory, as the sequel will show. Among the characters with whom Mr. Brooke got acquainted during the rebel war was a young chief named Si Tundo, who was constantly by his side whenever there was danger. He was an Illanun, and had been sent from Sadung, with some thirteen of his countrymen, by Seriff Sahib, to offer his services to Macota, commander-in-chief of the rajah's forces; and I resume Mr. Brooke's memoranda, with the following interesting account of this poor fellow's fate: "On my arrival at Sarawak, we were received with the usual honors; and the first thing I heard of was the decease of my poor companion, Si Tundo of Magindano, who had been put to death by the rajah's orders. The course of justice, or, rather, injustice, or perhaps, more justly, a mixture of both, is so characteristic of the people, that I am tempted to give the particulars. Si Tundo fell in love with a woman belonging to an adopted son of Macota, and the passion being mutual, the lady eloped from her master and went to her lover's house. This being discovered in a short time, he was ordered to surrender her to Macota, which he reluctantly did, on an understanding that he was to be allowed to marry her on giving a proper dowry. Either not being able to procure the money, or the terms not being kept, Si Tundo and a relation (who had left the pirate fleet and resided with him) mounted to Macota's hill, and threatened to take the woman and to burn the house. The village, however, being roused, they were unable to effect their purpose, and retired to their own residence. Here they remained for some days in a state of incessant watchfulness; and when they moved, they each carried their kempilan, and wore the krisses ready to the hand. The Rajah Muda Hassim, being well aware of the state of things, sent, at this crisis, to order Si Tundo and his friend to his presence; which order they obeyed forthwith, and entered the balei, or audience-hall, which was full of their enemies. According to Muda Hassim's account, he was anxious to save Si Tundo's life, and offered him another wife; but, his affections being fixed on the girl of his own choice, he rejected the offer, only praying he might have the woman he loved. On entering the presence of the rajah, surrounded by foes, and dreading treachery (which most probably was intended), these unfortunate men added to their previous fault by one which, however slight in European estimation, is here of an aggravated nature--they entered the presence with their kempilans in their hands, and their sarongs clear of the kris-handle; and instead of seating themselves cross-legged, they only squatted on their hams, ready for self-defense. From that hour their doom was resolved on: the crime of disrespect was deemed worthy of death, though their previous crime of abduction and violence might have obtained pardon. It was no easy matter, however, among an abject and timid population, to find executioners of the sentence against two brave and warlike men, well armed and watchful, and who, it was well known, would sell their lives dearly; and the subsequent proceeding is, as already observed, curiously characteristic of the people, and the deep disguise they can assume to attain their purposes. It was intimated to Si Tundo that, if he could raise a certain sum of money, the woman should be made over to him; and to render this the more probable, the affair was taken out of Macota's hands, and placed at the decision of the Orang Kaya de Gadong, who _was friendly_ to the offenders, but who received his private orders how to act. Four men were appointed to watch their opportunity, in order to seize the culprits. It is not to be imagined, however, that a native would trust or believe the friendly assurances held out to him; nor was it so in the case of Si Tundo and his companion; they attended at the Orang Kaya de Gadong's house frequently for weeks, with the same precautions, and it was found impossible to overpower them; but the deceit of their enemies was equal to the occasion, and delay brought no change of purpose. They were to die, and opportunity alone was wanting to carry the sentence into effect. Time passed over, suspicion was lulled; and as suspicion was lulled the professions to serve them became more frequent. Poor Si Tundo brought _all_ his little property to make good the price required for the woman, and his friend added his share; but it was still far short of the required amount. Hopes, however, were still held out; the Orang Kaya advanced a small sum to assist, and other _pretended_ friends, slowly and reluctantly, at his request, lent a little money. The negotiation was nearly complete; forty or fifty reals only were wanting, and the opposite party were ready to deliver the lady whenever the sum was made good. A final conference was appointed for the conclusion of the bargain at the Orang Kaya's, at which numbers were present; and the devoted victims, lulled into fatal security, had ceased to bring their formidable kempilans. At the last interview, the forty reals being still deficient, the Orang Kaya proposed receiving their gold-mounted krisses in pledge for the amount. The krisses were given up, and the bargain was complete, when the four executioners threw themselves on the unarmed men, and, assisted by others, overpowered and secured them. Si Tundo, wounded in the scuffle, and bound, surrounded by enemies flourishing their krisses, remarked, 'You have taken me by treachery; openly you could not have seized me.' He spoke no more. They triumphed over and insulted him, as though some great feat had been achieved, and every kris was plunged into his body, which was afterward cast, without burial, into the river. Si Tundo's relation was spared on pleading for mercy; and after his whole property, even to his clothes, was confiscated, he was allowed to retire to Sadung. Thus perished poor Si Tundo, a Magindano pirate, with many, if not all, the vices of the native character, but with boldness, courage, and constancy, which retrieved his faults, and raised him in the estimation of brave men. In person he was tall, elegantly made, with small and handsome features, and quiet and graceful manners; but toward the Malays, even of rank, there was in his bearing a suppressed contempt, which they often felt, but could not well resent. Alas! my gallant comrade, I mourn your death, and could have better spared a better man; for as long as you lived, I had one faithful follower of tried courage among the natives. Peace be with you in the world to come, and may the great God pardon your sins and judge you mercifully! "The case of poor Si Tundo proves that the feeling of love is not quite dead among Asiatics, though its power is obscured by their education and habits of polygamy; and that friendship and relationship may induce a man here, as elsewhere, to risk his life and sacrifice his property without any prospect of personal advantage. An old Magindano man, a sort of foster-father of Si Tundo's, when he saw me for the first time, clasped my arm, and repeatedly exclaimed, 'Si Tundo is dead; they have killed him;' adding, 'had you been here, he would not have been killed.' I was touched by the old man's sorrow, and his expression of feeling." Datu Jembrong was likewise an Illanum, and retired to Sadung when the rebel war had closed, and died after a few days' illness. Mr. Brooke writes: "Thus I have lost the two bravest men--men whom I would rather trust for fair dealing than any score of Borneons; for the Magindanos, though pirates by descent and education, are a far superior people to any in the Archipelago, with the exception of the Bugis. Whatever may be their vices, they are retrieved by courage to a certain degree; and where we find a manly character, we may presume that the meaner arts of _finesse_ and treachery are less prevalent. Dampier and Forrest both give them an excellent character; and it is a pity that of late years little is known of them, and so little pains taken to hold a friendly intercourse either with them or the Sooloos." The important changes which ensued on the return of Mr. Brooke to Sarawak, in the spring of 1841, now demand attention; and, as heretofore, I proceed to describe them from the data intrusted to my charge. "In a former part of my journal," says Mr. Brooke, "I have mentioned briefly the occasions which led to my invitation, and the reasons which induced me to accept the offer of the Rajah Muda Hassim; but I will repeat these, in order to bring the narrative at once more distinctly before the memory. When I returned here for the second time, in August of last year, it was with the determination of remaining for a few days only on my way to the northward; and nothing but my feeling for the miserable situation of Muda Hassim induced me to alter my intention. The rebellion, which he had come from Borneo to quell, had defied every effort for nearly four years; and the attacks he had made on the rebels had failed entirely and almost disgracefully. His immediate followers were few in number, and aid from the neighboring countries was either denied, or withheld on trivial excuses; while the opposition of Pangeran Usop in Borneo paralyzed the efforts of his supporters in the capital, and, in case of non-success, threatened his own power. The pride, the petty pride of the Malay prince bent before these circumstances, and induced him to state his difficulties to me, and to request my assistance. His failure was strongly dwelt on, and his resolution to die here rather than abandon his undertaking--to die disgraced and deserted! Under these circumstances, could I, he urged upon me, forsake him? could I, 'a gentleman from England,' who had been his friend, and knew the goodness of his heart, could I leave him surrounded and begirt with enemies? It was possibly foolish, it was perhaps imprudent, but it accorded with my best feelings; and I resolved not to abandon him without at any rate seeing the probabilities of success; and it must always be remembered that, in doing so, I had no ulterior object, no prospect of any personal advantage. I joined his miserable army, which, in numbers, barely exceeded that of the rebels, strongly stockaded. I joined them at the outset of their campaign; and in a few days (ten days) witnessed such scenes of cowardice, treachery, intrigue, and lukewarmness among his followers, such a determination not to take advice or to pursue any active measures, that I left them and returned to my vessel. The Chinese I do not include in this representation; they were true and willing, but wretchedly armed, and very justly refused to be thrust forward into posts of danger, which the Malays in their own country would not share. On my return to the vessel, I frankly stated how useless my presence was among men who would not do any thing I desired, yet would do nothing for themselves; and, under the circumstances, I intimated my intention of sailing. Here, again, I was pressed with the same entreaties; every topic was exhausted to excite my compassion, every aid was at my disposal; and lastly, if I would stay, and we were successful, the country was offered to me. The only inquiry was, whether the rajah had the right and authority to make over the country to me, and this I was assured he had. The government, the revenue (with slight deductions for the sultan), and one of his brothers to reside here in order to insure the obedience of the Malays, were all comprehended in this cession, freely and without condition. I might, at this point of the negotiation, have insured _the title_ to the government as far as a written agreement could give it; but for two sufficient reasons I declined all treaty upon the subject until the war was over. The first of these reasons was, that it would have been highly ungenerous to take advantage of a man's distress to tie him down to any agreement which, in other circumstances, he might not be willing to adopt; and by acting thus ungenerously, it would be tempting the rajah to deceive me when the treaty came to be ratified. The second reason was equally cogent; for a mere barren bond, which I had no means to enforce, was worse than useless, and no man would be nearer possession by merely holding a written promise. I may add, likewise, that I saw so many difficulties in the way of the undertaking, that I was by no means over-anxious to close with it; and, previously to accepting and entering on so bold a project, I was desirous thoroughly to be assured of the good faith of the promiser. To the Rajah Muda Hassim's proposal I, therefore, replied, that I could not accept it while the war was pending, as I considered it wrong to take any advantage of his present situation; and that, if he conferred authority on me in the camp, I would once more go up the river and assist him to the utmost of my power. It is needless to repeat any details of the war, except to say that I found every support from him, and the highest consideration, both in personal attentions and the bestowal of influence. He conquered, I may say without self-praise, through my means; and on the close of hostilities our negotiation about the country was revived. In its progress I stated to him that Malay governments were so bad, that the high were allowed so much license, and the poor so oppressed, that any attempt to govern without a change of these abuses was impossible; and as a foundation of my acceptance was the proposition, that all his exertions must be employed to establish the principle that one man was not to take any thing from another, and that all men were to enjoy the produce of their labor, save and except at such times as they were engaged in working for the revenue. That the amount of the revenue was to be fixed and certain for three years, at a stated quantity of rice per family; in lieu of which, should a man prefer it, he might pay in money or in labor: the relative price of rice to money or labor being previously fixed at as low a rate as possible. That the officers, viz., Patingi, Bandar, and Tumangong, were to receive stated salaries out of this revenue, in order to prevent any extortion, either by themselves or in their name; and that they were to be answerable for the whole revenue under my superintendence. That the Dyaks were to be treated the same as the Malays, their property protected, their taxes fixed, and their labor free. At the same time, I represented to him the difficulty of doing this, and that nothing but his power could effect it; as any foreigner, without his unlimited support and confidence, would have no chance of finding obedience from the numerous inferior Pangerans and their followers. This, with much more, was the theme of my conversation; to which was replied, _imprimis_, That their customs and religion must not be infringed. That with regard to the violence and rapacity of the higher classes, and the uncertainty of taxation, which led to so much oppression, they were by no means any part of the Ondong Ondong, _i. e._, the written law of Borneo, but gross abuses which had arisen out of lax government. That it was the wish of his heart to see these things mended; and that nothing should be wanting on his part to assist me in accomplishing objects so desirable, particularly with respect to the Dyaks, who were so grossly abused. On this, a written agreement was made out, merely to the purport that I was to reside at Sarawak in order to 'seek for profit;' and on my remarking that this paper expressed nothing, he said I must not think that it was the one understood between us, but merely for him to show to the sultan at Borneo in the first place. I accepted this version of the story, though it looked suspicious; and on my part, over and above our written agreement, which expressed nothing, I consented to buy a vessel, and bring down trade to the place, in return for which I was assured of antimony ore in plenty; and though I knew that profit was not to be expected, I was desirous to comply, as, without a vessel regularly trading here, it would be impossible to develop the resources of the country. While I went to Singapore, the rajah promised to build me a house, in which I was to take up my residence. I sailed accordingly, and returned within three months, having performed all my engagements; but on reaching Sarawak, the first disappointment I experienced was, that the house was not commenced. I urged them to begin it, and after the most provoking delays at length got it finished. I mention this because it was the only instance in which good faith was kept. "_August 3d._--The two schooners, Royalist and Swift, having arrived at Sarawak, I found myself with a heavy monthly expense, and was naturally anxious to dispatch them as speedily as possible. I was assured that 6000 peculs of antimony ore would be down immediately, and that whenever the people were set to work, any quantity might be procured without difficulty; which, indeed, I knew to be true, as Macotah had loaded a ship, a brig, and three native vessels in six weeks. The procrastination, therefore, was the more provoking; but as I had determined to arm myself with patience, and did not anticipate foul play, I was content to wait for a time. The Swift being leaky and requiring repairs, was another inducement to me to lie by and land her cargo, which, ever since my arrival, the rajah petitioned to have ashore, giving every pledge for a quick and good return. At length I consented to let him have the cargo into his own hands, on the assurance that the antimony ore" (_i. e._, the 6000 peculs which were ready?) "should be brought down directly. Nothing could be more correct than the way they received the cargo, taking an account of each separate article, comparing it with the invoice, and noting down the deficiency; and the rajah himself superintended this interesting process from morning till dark. At this time, having agreed with him for the whole, as the easiest and best mode of dealing under the circumstances, I did not much trouble myself about the deposit; and my attention was first roused by the extreme apathy of the whole party directly the cargo was in their possession--overhauled, reckoned, and disposed of among them." CHAPTER X. Obstacles in the way of coming to a satisfactory conclusion with Muda Hassim.--The law of force and reprisal considered.--Capabilities of Sarawak.--Account of Sarebus and Sakarran pirates.--Excursion up the river.--Visit to the Singè Dyaks.--Description of Mr. Brooke's house at Sarawak.--Circumstances relating to the wreck off Borneo Proper. During the succeeding pages of my friend's journal, one hardly knows which to admire most; his firmness, his cool courage, his determined perseverance, or his patience. On the other hand, it is difficult to decide whether the rajah's indolence and ingratitude, or Macota's low cunning and treachery are the more disgusting. But I continue the narrative, and readers will judge for themselves. "Yet," says Mr. Brooke, "I had confidence, and was loth to allow any base suspicion to enter my mind against a man who had hitherto behaved well to me, and had not deceived me before. From the time the cargo had been disposed of, I found myself positively laid on the shelf. No return arrived; no steps were taken to work the antimony ore; no account appeared of the positive amount to be received: a promise was tendered; and all my propositions--nay, my very desire to speak of the state of the country--were evaded. I found myself clipped like Samson, while delay was heaped upon delay, excuse piled on excuse, and all covered with the utmost show of kindness and civility. It was provoking beyond sufferance; but with several strokes which I considered important, I bore it with saint-like patience. I remonstrated mildly but firmly on the waste of my money, and on the impossibility of any good to the country while the rajah conducted himself as he had done. I urged upon him to release the poor women whom he had kept confined for nearly five months; and I guarantied the peaceful disposition of the people if it were done. I might as well have whistled to the winds, or have talked reason to stones. I was overwhelmed with professions of affection and kindness, but nothing ensued. I had trusted--my eyes gradually opened--I feared I was betrayed and robbed, and had at length determined to be observant and watchful, when an event occurred which finished the delusion, and woke me fully to the treachery, or at any rate the weakness, at work against me. My house was finished, and I had just taken possession of it, when I understood that an overwhelming body of Dyaks, accompanied by Malays, were proceeding up the river, with the avowed purpose of attacking a hostile tribe, but with the real design of slaughtering all the weak tribes in their way. Upward of 100 boats, with certainly not fewer than 2500 men, had been at Sarawak a week, asking permission for this expedition; and I was informed there was not the slightest chance of its being granted, when to my surprise I saw the expedition start. "On being convinced that they really were going up the country, I instantly quitted the house and returned on board the Royalist, sending to know whether the rajah had granted leave for their entrance into the interior. By him the whole blame of the transaction was thrown upon Macota and the Orang Kaya de Gadong; and he himself was said to be so ill that he could not be seen; but it was added, as I disliked the measure so greatly, the same parties who had sent the Dyaks up could recall them down, which indeed I had insisted on being done. They accordingly retrograded and left; after which I continued sulky on board and the rajah, shamming sick, sulked in his harem. That any man beside the rajah himself would have been bold enough to grant the permission, I knew, from experience, was impossible. I accepted his denial as the groundwork of a reconciliation. In the mean time, as he continued indisposed, I intimated my intention of proceeding to Borneo in three days, and dispatching the Swift at the same time to proceed to Singapore; part of her cargo, 750 peculs of antimony ore, having been at length put on board. On this being made known to the rajah, he forgot his sickness, and came out and proffered me a meeting to discuss affairs, which I postponed until the following day. In the mean time I took a candid view of my position, and considered the best means of extricating myself from my difficulties with as little trouble and inconvenience as possible to either party. "I had lost much valuable time, spent much money, and risked my life and the lives of my crew, in order to render assistance to Rajah Muda Hassim in his distress; in return for which he had voluntarily offered me the country. The conditions of my acceptance had been discussed and mutually understood, and I had, in fulfillment of my part, brought vessel and cargo. Profit I did not much care about; the development of the country was my chief, I may say my only, aim; and on my arrival I had been delayed and cheated by false promises, which showed too plainly that he neither meant to adhere to his former agreement, nor to pay for what he had on false pretences obtained. It may appear to many that no measures ought to be kept with one who had so behaved; but for the following reasons I resolved still to wait his pleasure. In the first place, it was barely possible that indolence, and not treachery, might have actuated him; and in the next place, if it was possible to arrange so as to get back the amount of the Swift's cargo, I was in duty and justice bound to use every endeavor before resorting to measures of force. As for the cession of the country, and all the good which must have resulted from it, I put these considerations altogether out of the question. I had been deceived and betrayed, and had met with the grossest ingratitude; but I had no claim, nor would any written agreement have given me one; and I was therefore constrained to submit without returning evil for evil. Every point weighed, I felt, from every motive, inclined, nay desirous, to avoid a rupture, or taking an equivalent for my property by force. The Swift, with the part of her cargo received on board, after three months' detention, and no more even talked of, I therefore resolved, as already stated, to dispatch to Singapore. My first intention on arriving here had been to send the Royalist back to that port and dispose of her; but a native rumor being afloat that the crew of a shipwrecked vessel were in Borneo Proper, I deemed it incumbent on me to visit that place and effect their release. I had used every means in my power since my arrival to induce the Rajah Muda Hassim to send one or two of his Pangerans and a letter from himself to the sultan by the Royalist, in order to insure that object; but although, day by day, I had received promises, they were never performed. Seeing now that this duty of humanity could no longer be delayed with propriety, I resolved to dispatch the Royalist to Borneo, and myself to remain here, to endeavor, if I could, to obtain _my own_. Each vessel was to return as quickly as possible from her place of destination; and I then resolved to give two additional months to the rajah, and to urge him in every way in my power to do what he was bound to do as an act of common honesty. Should these means fail, after making the strongest representations and giving amplest time, I considered myself free to extort by force what I could not gain by fair means. "Having determined on these steps, I met the rajah by appointment, and repeated all my grievances, and set strongly before him the injury done in consequence; and lastly, plainly told him that I only came and now only stayed in his country at his request, but that the property he had taken must be repaid, and subsequently to that, if he had any proposition to make, I would endeavor to meet his wishes. To all this I received _no one satisfactory answer_, and, from the shuffling on every complaint, I formed the worst opinion of his intentions. "My determination, however, having been previously made, the result of this conversation had no effect upon me; and at the end of three days, the time I had limited, no letter for the sultan being forthcoming, on the fourth morning the two schooners proceeded to sea, one for Borneo, the other for Singapore, while, with three companions, I remained in my new house. [12] "I wish now to discuss a question which has often occupied my mind, and upon which I have been very desirous to arrive at a right conclusion. It is certain that a British subject cannot wrongfully attack or injure any prince or person in his own country without rendering himself liable to be punished by the laws of England. It is both right and just that it should be so, because in demi-civilized or savage countries the natives are often unable to protect themselves, and an attack upon them savors of piracy. On the other hand, if the native prince be the party to blame; if he fraudulently possess himself of property under false pretences, make promises which he breaks, and enter into agreements before witnesses which he never intends to fulfill; then, I ask, is a British subject to submit to the loss, when the party defrauding him is able to pay and will not? I answer decidedly, he is not bound to submit to be cheated, and, if he have the means, he has the right to enforce repayment. It may be urged that trust ought not to be reposed; but trust is the ordinary course of trade, and cannot alter the question. Again, it may be said, Apply to the government; but it is well known and acknowledged that the government will not interfere in any case of the sort. Seek redress by law! there is no law to meet the contingency. Bear the loss, _i. e._ be betrayed, deceived, and cheated, and submit! It cannot be; for although the law may properly inquire into the circumstances, yet as it will not protect me here, or give me any redress for _fraud_ or _murder_, it cannot punish, if right be on my side. Am I quite sure that the right is on my side? It is, as far as I can judge; and having candidly stated every fact and circumstance, I am convinced there can be but one opinion on the subject. I am sure that if I seize property to the amount of that taken from me, I act justly, though perhaps not legally; yet I firmly believe legally likewise, although law and justice do not necessarily go always hand in hand. On the whole, there was the old sore rankling--the false promises, the gross deceit, the base ingratitude to a man who had done everything to relieve this equivocating rajah from disgrace, defeat, and perhaps death. But here I close this account for the present, to be resumed on the return of the Royalist from Borneo. "_August 4th._--Both retrospectively and prospectively the grounds for all these transactions were ever pressing on my mind and guiding my actions. The capabilities of the Sarawak country were very great. It could abundantly supply the richest produce of the vegetable kingdom; it abounded in mineral wealth, and especially in a vast staple commodity of antimony ore; with a considerable population of Dyaks, whose condition was decidedly improvable; a Malay population, by no means large, which was advantageous; and a Chinese population ready to immigrate with even a moderate prospect of protection. Beside these inducements, must be added its propinquity to the Pontiana river, and the trade which by that route might flow even from the center of this little-known island. To crown all, there were the credit to myself in case of success, the amelioration of the native condition, however partial, and the benefit to commerce in general. These were the reasons that induced me to enter on this arduous task; and to these I may add a supplementary one, viz., that when I had struggled for a time, I might rouse the zeal of others, and find efficient support either from government or the mercantile body. "I have in a former part of my journal mentioned the Illanun pirates, and my meeting with them here. On our return we heard of their being still on the coast, and from that time to this they have been ravaging and plundering between Tanjong Datu, Sirhassan, and Pontiana. Malays and Chinese have been carried off in great numbers; Borneo and Sambas prahus captured without end; and so much havoc committed, that the whole coast, as far as the natives are concerned, may be pronounced in a state of blockade. "Beside the Illanuns, there are two other descriptions of pirates infesting these seas: one, the Dyaks of Sakarran and Sarebus, two predatory tribes already mentioned; the other called Balagnini, a wild people represented to come from the northward of Sooloo. I have not seen them; but their boats are said to be very long and swift, with sometimes outriggers; and one particular in their mode of attack is too curious to omit. In closing on their victims they use long poles, having a hook made fast at the extremity, with which, being expert, they hook their opponents at a distance and drag them overboard, while others are fighting with saligis and spears. "I have before mentioned the arrival of one hundred Dyak boats at Sarawak, to request permission from the rajah to ascend the river and attack a tribe toward Sambas. What a tale of misgovernment, tyranny, and weakness, does this request tell! These Dyaks were chiefly from Sakarran, mixed with the Sarebus, and with them three boats of the Malo tribe, whose residence is toward the Pontiana river. The Sakarrans are the most powerful, the most predatory, and the most independent tribe on the N.W. coast, their dependence on Borneo being merely nominal. The latter are likewise predatory and numerous, but they are on good terms with all the coast tribes and with the Malays, while the Sarebus are against all, and all are against them. Speaking generally, they are a remarkably fine body of people, handsome, intelligent, powerful, well-made, beautifully-limbed, and clear-skinned. They are somewhat fairer than the Malays and the mountain Dyaks; but in manners, customs, and language, exactly resemble the Sibnowans, except that the last, from misfortune, have become a peaceful tribe. The Sarebus and Sakarrans are only distinguishable by the numerous rings they wear in their ears. On one man I counted fourteen of brass, various sizes, in one ear only. They are rather fond of ornament, and wear grotesque caps of various-colored cloths (particularly red), some of them square, others peaked, and others like a cocked hat worn athwart-ships, and terminating in sharp points on the top of the head. These head-dresses are ornamented with tufts of red hair or black human hair, shreds of cloth, and sometimes feathers; but what renders them laughable to look at is, that the hair is cut close to match the shape of the cap; so that when a man displaces it, you find him bare of hair about the forehead and posterior part of the skull, that over the ears cut into points, and the rest of the skull showing a good crop of black bristles. "The commanders of this party were yclept poetically by their own people, as _noms de guerre_, the Sun and the Moon, _i. e._, _Bulan_, for moon, and _Matari_ for sun. The Sun was as fine a young man as the eye would wish to rest upon; straight, elegantly yet strongly made, with a chest and neck, and head set on them, which might serve Apollo; legs far better than his of Belvidere; and a countenance mild and intelligent. I became very good friends with both Sun and Moon, and gave them a great deal of good advice about piracy, which, of course, was thrown away. "Their boats are built very long, raised at the stern, and the largest pulling as many as sixty paddles; but I should not think them fast, and any boat with a swivel might cut them up. The least average I could give the hundred boats is twenty-five men per boat, making, as already observed, 2500 in all. We counted ninety, and there were others down the reach we could not see; and they themselves stated their force to be 140 boats and 4000 men. The manners of these Dyaks toward us were reserved, quiet, and independent. They stole nothing, and in trading for small quantities of rice, bees-wax, cotton, and their cloths, showed a full knowledge of the relative value of the articles, or rather they priced their own at far above their proper worth. I may indeed say of all the Dyaks I have seen, that they are anxious to receive, but very loth to give; and when they have obtained cloth, salt, copper, beads, &c. to the amount of two or three dollars as a present, will bring in a bunch of plantains or a little rice, and ask you _to buy_. The Sibnowans are the chief exceptions to this, and they are my pet tribe. The language of Sakarran and Sarebus is the same as the Sibnowan; and with all the word God, the _Allah Talla_ of the Malays, is expressed by _Battara_, from which we may infer that their notion of the Deity, as probably was all the religion of these regions, was derived from the Hindoos. "When this force of Dyaks was, contrary to the assurance given to me, sweeping up the river, I had just finished a late dinner. I was _angry enough_, and resolved instanter to leave the house, when who should come in, _as if by pure accident_, but Pangeran Budrudeen, the rajah's brother. I controlled myself, spoke strongly withal but civilly, and sent him away wishing he had not come near me; and the boat being ready, I retired from the house to the Royalist. Their immediate recall was the consequence; for the rajah having denied his permission, those who fathered the act dared not persist in it when I told them it was an act of disobedience. They tried to frighten me with the idea that the Dyaks would attack us; but as I felt sure we could blow them away in ten minutes, it had not the desired effect. They had in the mean time reached Leda Tanah, whence they were brought down again sulky enough, and did show a slight inclination to see whether the people on board the Swift were keeping watch; for several of their boats dropped close to her, and one directly under the bowsprit, as silently as death; but on being challenged, and a musket leveled near them, they sheered off, and the next day finally departed. The poor Dyaks in the interior, as well as the Chinese, were in the greatest state of alarm, and thence I gained some credit among them for my interference on their behalf. The very idea of letting 2500 wild devils loose in the interior of the country is horrible; for though they have one professed object, they combine many others with it, and being enemies of all the mountain tribes, they cut them up as much as they can. What object, it may be inquired, can the Malays have in destroying their own country and people so wantonly? I must endeavor to explain, to the best of my belief and knowledge. The Malays take part in these excursions, and thirty men joined the Sakarrans on the present occasion, and consequently they share in the plunder, and share largely. Probably Muda Hassim would have got twenty shares (women and children); and these twenty being reckoned at the low rate of twenty reals each, makes four hundred reals, beside other plunder, amounting to one or two hundred reals more. Inferior Pangerans would of course partake likewise. Muda Hassim _must_ have given his consent, must have been a participator in this atrocity, nobody being desperate enough to do such a thing without his orders. In fact, they dare not move up the river themselves without leave, much less send up the Dyaks. It is a hateful feature in this government, newly developed since the close of the war. "_August 5th._--One excursion I made up the river over our old ground, staying a week, visiting various places. Where the village of Siniawan once stood is now a small Chinese settlement, and their garden bespeaks the fertility of the soil. From Siniawan I walked over to Tundong, now the principal Chinese station. The scenery was beautiful all the way from Siniawan to Tundong--gently undulating ground rising into respectable hills, and backed by noble mountains, and valleys so quiet and still, and looking so fertile, that I sighed to think man's cultivating hand was not here. We paused, and rested at a farm of the Paninjow. Their mode of cultivation is the same as described by Marsden--cutting, clearing, planting, and abandoning after one or two crops. They seem likewise to prefer the upland to the wet ground. Tundong is quite a new settlement, situated close on the banks of the river, which is here quite narrow and shallow. The distance may be ten miles by water, as it took our boat four hours and a half to pull against stream. We spent the same time walking, but diverged from the road. Wherever the Chinese are, the sound of the axe and the saw is to be heard in the woods as you approach, and all are industriously employed. They have their carpenters, sawyers, blacksmiths, and housebuilders, while the mass work the antimony ore, or are busy constructing the trench where they find and wash the gold. With such inhabitants a country must get on well, if they are allowed fair play. I was quite tired, and stayed all night at Tundong. On the following morning I started for the Singè mountain, which is the residence of the Dyak tribe of the same name. The walk, including a rest, occupied nearly three hours, the latter part uphill, and we reached the village a good deal knocked up from the heat of the sun and the badness of the way. Our entertainment was not of the best; yet the Singè were not inhospitable, but suspicious that we came to rob them. The rice and the fowls we required, although we paid for them at double their value, were reluctantly produced; while at the same time they showed themselves anxious enough to obtain the salt we had brought to exchange, without giving the equivalent. "The village is built on the shoulder of a mountain, not half way up, and only accessible by a ladder-like path on either side. It consists of about 200 miserable huts, and is as dirty and filthy as any place I ever was in, with numerous half-starved pigs and dogs running about it. The houses are small and mean, and detached from each other, contrary to the usage of the other Dyaks, who inhabit one large house containing numerous partitions for families; here, however, they have one or two public halls or council-houses, which are built and thatched in a circular form, and in which their young men and bachelors sleep; here likewise are deposited the heads, of which they have more than enow, as above one hundred ghastly remnants of mortality ornamented the abode in which we slept. I could not on this occasion find out that they professed to take the heads of friends or strangers, though the latter may fall victims if on enemies' ground. They seem to have no idea of cannibalism or human sacrifice, nor did they accuse their enemies of these practices. They have a custom, that in case of sickness in a house, or child-bearing, the house is forbidden to the males and strangers, which is something similar to the tabboo of the South-Sea Islands. This plea was urged as a reason why the head man or Orang Kaya Parembam could not receive us in his dwelling. The Dyaks are always decorous in their behavior, rarely give way to mirth, and never annoy by their curiosity. Toward the Malays they are extremely sulky and mulish; but they have good reasons, as the Malays are ever extorting from them, and threatening them with the anger of the rajah or the incursion of the Sakarrans. The women wear black bamboo stays, which are sewn on when they arrive at the age of puberty, and never removed save when _enceinte_. These Singè Dyaks, like the others, attend to the warning of birds of various sorts, some birds being in more repute than others. On starting for a hunting excursion we met one of them on the hill-side, who said, 'You will be fortunate: I heard the bird behind you.' Here, if a bird is before you, it is a sign that enemies are there too, and they turn back: if behind, they proceed in good spirits. They have a prejudice against the flesh of deer, which the men may not eat, but which is allowed to women and children. The reason given for this is, that if the warriors eat the flesh of deer, they become as faint-hearted as that animal. These may be called their superstitions, but religion they have none; and though they know a name for God, and entertain some faint notion of a future state, yet it is only in the abstract, for practically the belief seems to be a dead letter. At their marriage they kill fowls, as I have narrated; but this is a ceremony, not a sacrifice. They have no priests or idols, say no prayers, make no offerings to propitiate the Deity, and it is little likely therefore that human sacrifice should exist among them. In this respect they are different from any known people who have arrived at the same state of civilization. The New Zealanders, the inhabitants of the South Seas, &c. &c., for instance, all bow to their idols, toward which the same feelings of reverence and devotion, of awe and fear, obtain as with more civilized beings in regard to the invisible Deity; but here are the mere words, barren and without practice. "The day following our arrival at Singè we descended into the plains, amid their former rice-fields, to shoot deer. The place is called Pasar (bazaar or market), though it could scarcely ever have been one. The rice-cultivation was formerly very extensive, and the low ground all about the mountain is well cleared of wood by the industry of these Dyaks. But the country becoming unsettled and troubled, and roving parties of strange Dyaks landing on the coast near Onetong, cut off the people employed in the fields, and they consequently were abandoned. We took up our quarters in a ruinous little deserted hovel, and in the evening walked over the neighboring district, where the cocoanut and betel-trees mark its former state of prosperity. The sago is likewise planted in considerable quantity, and serves for food, when rice falls short. Deer, the large deer of Borneo, abound, and in a walk of a few miles we saw from fifteen to twenty, and from their tracks they must be very numerous indeed. The walking was difficult, for owing to the softness of the ground, we often sank in up to our thighs, and generally to our knees: and a short distance in this sort of wading in stiff mud serves to knock a man up. I was fortunate enough to kill one of the deer, and have no doubt that with more favorable light a man might get many. The night's repose in the hut was broken and uncomfortable, and our people were busy for several hours curing the flesh of the animal, which is done as follows: first it is slightly salted, and then burnt over a quick wood-fire in slices or lumps, and thus keeps for many days, and is very palatable. Seriff Hussein (formerly of Siniawan) was my companion on this excursion. He had three followers, while I had three Javanese with me, beside my Bugis boy Situ, who walks with the best of us. The morning after killing the deer we ascended the Singè again by a desperately steep path; and after resting an hour or two, walked to our boats, and descended the stream to Siniawan. The night was marked by torrents of rain, thunder, and lightning, which left the roads so bad that I resigned my intention of walking up to Sarambo, and in the evening dropped down to Leda Tanah, and tried unsuccessfully for another deer. We saw some, but could not get near them. Here likewise are plenty of rice-fields deserted, but which a little labor would bring again into cultivation. The day following we rejoined the schooner, and, as usual, found everything at a stand-still on shore. "I may here mention our house, or, as I fondly styled it, our palace. It is an edifice fifty-four feet square, mounted upon numerous posts of the Nibong palm, with nine windows in each front. The roof (_atap_) is of Nipah leaves, and the floor and partitions are all of plank: furnished with couches, tables, chairs, books, &c. the whole is as comfortable as man would wish for in this out-of-the-way country; and we have, beside, a bathing-house, cook-house, and servants' apartments detached. The view from the house to the eastward comprises a reach of the river, and to the westward looks toward the blue mountains of Matang; the north fronts the river, and the south the jungle; and but for the uncertainty of our affairs, I would have had a garden ere this, and found amusement in clearing and improving. Farewell, I fear, to these aspirations; our abode, however, though spacious, cool, and comfortable, can only be considered a temporary residence, for the best of all reasons--that in the course of a year it will tumble down, from the weight of the superstructure being placed on weak posts. The original plan was to have had a lower story, but about this I am now indifferent. The time here passes monotonously, but not unpleasantly. Had we but the animation of hope, and the stimulus of improvement, time would pass rapidly, though without a companion to converse with. "_August 6th._--The Royalist, as I mentioned before I reverted to the subject of the pirate fleet, started for Borneo Proper, to inquire respecting the crew of an English vessel, reported to have been shipwrecked. Pangeran Sulieman brought the intelligence from Borneo, but he knew very few particulars; and having been here four months before my arrival, the chances were that with the change of the monsoon they had sailed for Manilla. As, however, he assured me he had seen European men and women, and a numerous Lascar crew, I thought it right, at all events, to ascertain the fact; and in case of their being there still, to endeavor to obtain their release. For this purpose I was very desirous of procuring a letter from Muda Hassim to the sultan, conveyed by a Pangeran of rank; which, in addition to my own application, would most likely insure the object in view. This, however, though promised, I could not accomplish; delay coming upon delay, and the plague of my own affairs also intervening, postponed my intention till I could see the Swift fairly off for Singapore. The Royalist then went out with her on the Sunday, July 25th, proceeding to Borneo to demand the crew, if there: and the other to Singapore. On the 2d of August I was surprised by the receipt of a letter brought from Sadong, and bearing date the 10th of July. The gentleman who writes it can best tell his own story. 'Island Sirhassan, off Tan Datu, 'July 10th, 1841. 'A boat leaves this to-morrow for Sarawak; perhaps this may fall into the hands of Mr. Brooke, or some of my countrymen, which, should I not succeed in getting to Singapore, I trust will lose no time in letting the authorities know, so that steps may be taken for the release of the remaining thirty-six British subjects now at Borneo; which I fear nothing but one of H. M. ships will effect. The pirates are cruising in great force between Sambas and this, and have taken thirteen Borneo prahus, or more; they know that there are Europeans in the prahu, and have expressed a wish to take them. Our situation is not very enviable. The bearer of this has just escaped from them. I have been living ashore with Abduramon, a native of Pulo Pinang, who knows Mr. Brooke, and has been very kind to me. Trusting penmanship and paper will be excused, 'I remain, &c. &c. 'G. H. W. Gill.' "On the reverse was the following attestation, which threw more light on the circumstances:-- 'I, G. H. Willoughby Gill, late chief officer of the ship Sultana, of Bombay, do hereby certify that the said ship was totally destroyed by lightning, thirty miles N. E. of the Bombay shoal, coast of Palawan, on the 4th of January, 1841. Part of the crew, forty-one in number, succeeded in reaching Borneo on the 16th of January, in a state of starvation and misery not to be described; the remainder are reported to have landed on the coast of Borneo per long-boat:--Captain John Page; G. H. W. Gill, chief officer; Alexander Young, second officer; one gunner; five sea-cunnies; two carpenters; twenty-three natives and Lascars; two Nakodas. Passengers:--Mrs. Page (of a daughter, 31st of March); Mr. and Miss de Souza; Mrs. Anderson, servant; one Ayah; in all forty-two souls. The sultan has permitted myself, Mr. and Miss de Souza, with three servants, to proceed to Singapore in one of his prahus, where I hope to succeed in procuring the release of the remainder of my companions from their present very uncomfortable situation. I dare not say more. Mr. de Souza and myself left on the 24th of May, and put in here dismasted on the 20th of June; since then have been detained by a fleet of piratical prahus, which arrived on the 24th, and left 9th of July. Should nothing prevent, we expect to be ready by the 15th; but am very doubtful of ever getting to Singapore, as I fear they are on the look-out for us outside.' "This is the contents of the paper, which arriving after I had retired to rest, effectually banished sleep from my pillow. The 'uncomfortable situation,' coupled with 'I dare say no more,' gives the worst suspicions of their treatment in Borneo; while the chance of the party at Sirhassan falling into the hands of the pirates is extremely shocking. I instantly, on the receipt of the letter, sent to the rajah to request that he would dispatch a boat for Sirhassan, with a person competent to treat with the pirates; and on the morning of the 3d I succeeded in dispatching a boat to Songi, in the Sadong, to get some of the Datu Pangeran's people, who are Illanuns; but up to this time they have not returned. I can only hope these poor people at Sirhassan will be wise enough to stay there, instead of risking a capture by the pirates. Should the Royalist return shortly, and have obtained the crew, we may fight our way to that place and release the party, who, I have little doubt, are still detained there. If the Royalist is long away, and the captain goes in search of the missing boat's crew, we may yet have the Illanuns from Sadong here in time to dispatch. As for myself, I am tied, and have not the means at present of locomotion; my situation is an anxious one. The Swift must have been liable to fall in with this great force of pirates on her way to Singapore, and will be again liable on her return. The doubt and uncertainty about the poor fellows in Borneo and Sirhassan, and the wretched condition of my own affairs, all cause unpleasant reflections to my mind; yet I yield not, but will fight it out. "I have just brought up my history to the present time; and, like a log on the water, must wait for events to develop themselves. "_7th._--A report arrived this morning that the Sirhassan party sailed for Singapore on the 3d of the moon; and as Mr. Gill says they would be ready for sea about the 15th of last month, I consider it likely to be true. I trust they may escape the pirates, and safely reach their destination." CHAPTER XI. Return of the Royalist from Borneo Proper with intelligence of the sufferers from the wreck of the Sultana.--Effect of the arrival of the Diana on the negotiations for their release.--Outrage and oppression of Macota.--Fate of the Sultana and her crew.--Mr. Brooke made Rajah of Sarawak.--Liberation of rebel prisoners.--State of Dyak tribes.--Court of justice opened.--Dyak burials, and respect for the dead.--Malay cunning and treachery. While waiting events, Mr. Brooke amused himself by writing down such accounts of the interior as he was enabled to collect, from time to time, from the natives visiting Sarawak, as well as a brief description of the constitution and government, as enacted in Borneo Proper. But as my object now is to trace the progress of my friend up to the time when he embarked on board the Dido, I shall refer to these matters hereafter. "_Tuesday, August 17th, 1841._--Three weeks the Royalist has now been absent, and I begin, in spite of my determination to the contrary, to be somewhat uneasy about her. Suspense is certainly more difficult to bear than misfortune, for the certainty of an event arouses within us some of our best feelings to resist it; but suspense lets loose our imagination, and gives rise to that sickening feeling of 'hope deferred,' so truly characterized in the Scriptures. "_18th._--The Royalist arrived near Sarawak, having come into the river on the 16th, and in one tide from the Morotaba entrance as far as the Paduman [13] rocks. They reported that they had not effected the release of the prisoners, were very rudely treated, the boat detained at a fort near the entrance of the Borneo river, all communication denied with the Europeans, a letter for them seized from the native crew, and provisions and water refused. In addition to this, a letter from the sultan, addressed to me, stated to the effect, that the crew of the Sultana having entered into a treaty with him, the merchant and mate (Messrs. de Souza and Gill) had gone to Singapore to fulfill that agreement. The captain having a wife in the family way, preferred staying in Borneo, as the vessel was a small one, and therefore the sultan did not grant my request on this occasion; and further, having an agreement, he did not wish to be deceived regarding it. This was a falsehood from beginning to end, as will be clear by comparing it with Mr. Gill's statement, though I fear the poor men have been rash enough to enter into some arrangement to ransom themselves." On the 19th of August the Swift arrived; but the journal was laid by until the 24th of October, when it thus recommences: "I may now continue my narrative of events which have happened since I last used my pen, together with fresh details of my present intentions, and such additional knowledge as has been acquired. After the arrival of the Swift, I still adhered to my former resolution of waiting patiently for a settlement. I made several strong remonstrances, and urged for an answer to a letter I had addressed to Muda Hassim, in which was recapitulated our entire negotiation. This letter was acknowledged to be perfectly true and correct, and the rajah, in the conference which followed, again pledged himself to give me the country, saying he always intended to do so, but was involved in difficulties of the nature of which I could not be aware. Thus far things went well, and there appeared, indeed, a frankness in his manner which had formerly pleased me, but had long been in abeyance. "On the return of the Royalist from Borneo, I had assured them that a government vessel would be sent to demand the captives; but, taking this assurance for a mere boast, they paid little attention to it, and were therefore excessively frightened when, a week after the Swift, the Diana steamer entered the river. I had the pleasure of calming their fears, and was too generous to push matters to a settlement during the two days the steamer remained. "Muda Hassim now expressed himself desirous of sending some Pangerans to Borneo, and I wished him likewise to do so on account of the reflective power of the steamer, which, in that case, would have shone upon him. With his usual delay, however, he failed to be ready, and these Pangerans did not quit the river for two days afterward, when they proceeded in a native prahu. I accompanied the steamer to the mouth of the river, and wishing them success, pulled back to the capital of Sarawak. "_Oct 30th._--The Swift was slowly laden with antimony ore, worked by the Chinese; and I gradually robbed the Royalist of furniture for my house on shore. But I had no intention of allowing either vessel to sail until the time arrived which I had fixed on for the final adjustment of my affairs. By degrees, however, I learned many of the difficulties of poor Muda Hassim's situation, and much of the weakness of his character. The dissensions in Borneo; the intrigues of Macota; the rapacity of his own people, and their total want of fidelity; the bribes from the Sultan of Sambas; the false representations of numerous Borneo Pangerans who asserted the immense profit to be derived from the country; the dilatory movements of the Chinese; some doubts of my good faith; and, above all, the natural tenacity of power, all conspired to involve the rajah in the utmost perplexity, and would, but for counterbalancing circumstances, have turned the scale against me. Muda Hassim knew Macota to be false and in league with the Sultan of Sambas; and he felt that he had no power, and that if he broke with me, it would be extremely difficult to support himself against the former rebels. He was fond of me, and trusted me more than he trusted any one else; and pecuniary considerations had no doubt some weight, for with all Macota's promises he could not get sufficient ore to repay one quarter of his debt to me. However, all these conflicting considerations, instead of inducing Muda Hassim to take one course, only served to encourage his dilatory temper, and although puzzled, ashamed, and fearful, he could not decide. "At this period a robbery was committed up the river by some of Macota's followers on a Chinese hadji, a converted Mohammedan. They beat the old man, threw him into the water, and robbed him of a tael of gold. The beating and attempt at drowning were certain, for the Chinese hadji was so ill for several days under my care, that he was in considerable danger. He complained to me loudly of Macota; and from other sources I gained a pretty accurate account of that gentleman's proceedings. By threats, by intrigue, by falsehood, and even by violence, he had prevented or driven all persons from daring to visit or come near me, whether abroad or ashore. He was taxing the poor Dyaks, harassing the Siniawans, and leagued with the Borneo Pangerans to plunder and get all he possibly could. Every Dyak community was watched by his followers, and a spear raised opposite the chief's house, to intimate that no person was to trade or barter except the Pangeran. The mode of plunder is thus perpetrated. Rice, clothes, gongs, and other articles are sent to a tribe at a fixed price, which the Dyaks dare not refuse, for it is at the risk of losing their children! The prices thus demanded by Macota were as follows: one gantong of rice for thirty birds' nests. Twenty-four gantongs here is equal to a pecul of rice--a pecul of rice costs one dollar and a half; whereas thirty birds' nests weigh one catty, and are valued at two rupees, so that the twenty-fourth part of one and a half dollars is sold for two rupees. Was it surprising that these people were poor and wretched? My astonishment was, that they continued to labor, and, indeed, nothing but their being a surprisingly industrious race can account for it, and they are only enabled to live at all by secreting a portion of their food. Yet war and bad government, or, rather, no government, have had the effect of driving more than half the Dyak tribes beyond the limits of Sarawak. "The rapacity of these Malays is as unbounded as it is short-sighted; for one would think that the slightest degree of common sense would induce some of the chiefs to allow no one to plunder except themselves. But this is so far from being the case, that, when their demand has been enforced, dozens of inferior wretches extort and plunder in turn, each according to his ability; and though the Dyak is not wanting in obstinacy, he can seldom withstand these robberies, for each levy is made in the name of the rajah, or some principal Pangeran; and the threat of bringing the powerful tribe of Sakarrans or Sarebus to deprive them of their heads and wives and families, generally reduces them to obedience. While on this subject, I may as well mention a fact that came later to my knowledge, when several of the Dyak chiefs, and one of particular intelligence, Si Meta by name, assured me that each family paid direct revenue from thirty to fifty pasus (tubs) of padi, besides all the other produces, which are extorted at merely nominal prices. "To return to my relation: the Chinese hadji recovered, and I determined to punish the aggressors, for which purpose I seized an Illanun said to be concerned, but who was innocent. In the mean time the steamer returned from Borneo, and once more put in here for wood and water. She brought Captain and Mrs. Page, Mr. Young, the second officer, and all the rest of the crew, save only a few who had landed at the north part of Borneo, and there been seized and sold as slaves, and brought afterward as slaves to Borneo Proper. As the history of the shipwreck and detention is curious, I may here relate it as nearly as I can. "The Sultana, a fine ship of 700 tons, the day previous to her being struck by lightning, found the French frigate Magicienne aground and deserted on the Bombay shoal; Captain Page boarded her, and discovered every thing as it had been left by the crew--provisions, water, &c., in abundance. The day after, the Sultana met with a worse fate, being struck, and the cotton in the hold, fore and aft, fired by the electric fluid. They had scarcely time to hoist out the boat when the flames burst forth, and they quitted her very short of provisions, and saving only some money and jewels. Captain Page bore up for the wreck of the French frigate, intending to refit his long-boat aboard her, and take provisions and arms to last them to Singapore; but, on making her, there was so great a wash of the sea on the lee part of the reef, that it was totally impossible to reach the Magicienne. Under these unfortunate circumstances they bore up once more, still intending to prosecute the voyage to Singapore, and made the land to the southward of Palawan; and, being then short of water and provisions, landed on a small islet off Balabac, or Balambangan. Here they procured a few shell-fish and some very bad water; but seeing some natives in prahus on a neighboring islet, and being-unarmed and apprehensive, they lighted large fires in the evening to mislead these people, and, as night advanced, silently put to sea, and made the best of their way along the coast. With a heavy sea, and often high wind, they reached as far as Labuan, off the entrance of the Borneo river; and here, being in the utmost want, and reduced to an allowance of half a biscuit and a cup of water per day, they were forced to put into Borneo Proper, not without hopes of being well used, and enabled to buy provisions and stores sufficient to carry them to Singapore or Sambas. I have omitted to mention that, on making the land the first time, they parted from the cutter, in consequence of the tow-rope breaking in the night; but as they were then within sight of Borneo, and the wind fair, there was no doubt of its making the land somewhere. This, indeed, it did at Malludu Bay, where the native crew were seized and sold as slaves. "The arrival of Captain Page in his long-boat caused, as may well be imagined, considerable sensation in the campong; and they reached the sultan's house, thinking it the best place to seek shelter and protection. In this, however, they were soon undeceived; for neither the one nor the other was granted, but a message sent that they must deliver up all their property into the sultan's hands, as otherwise he was afraid they would be plundered by his people. Accordingly, having possessed himself of their money, some jewels, their boat, &c., he gave them a miserable shed to live in. Here they passed the time, and were gradually robbed of every thing they had in the world, even to the baby-linen which Mrs. Page had prepared for an expected infant. Sometimes, indeed, when Captain Page refused to yield to the sultan's demands, their provisions were stopped till they could no longer hold out; and in this way they were compelled to sign bonds for considerable sums, with the understanding that, till these were procured and paid, they should be detained. "In this sad situation Mrs. Page was confined of a daughter, on the 31st of March; and this miserable life continued from the 4th of January, 1841, to August of the same year. Their first ray of hope was the Royalist coming to fetch them: the steamer followed, and they were released. "After a stay of two or three days, the steamer once more sailed; though I would fain have persuaded Captain Congleton to search for the piratical fleet, of which I had excellent information; but he considered himself not authorized, or, in other words, he declined the responsibility. "As there was a chance that Mr. Gill and the De Souzas were either at Sirhassan or Tambelan, the steamer decided to touch at the latter place, and a native chuliah brig was directed to call at the former. I afterward learned that the pirates were then at Sirhassan; but as the brig knew nothing about Sirhassan, it is probable she never went there. In the evening the Diana sailed, and I reached Sarawak about two o'clock in the morning. "I now return to my concerns. The Chinese hadji, whom I had protected, continued to reside with my servants, till one evening we were alarmed at an attempt to poison my interpreter, a native of the name of Mia. Arsenic had certainly been put into his rice; but as the servants endeavored to point suspicion on this hadji, and as I learned, at the same time, that they did not agree with the old man, I cleared him in my own mind, and rather leaned to the opinion of Mia having placed the arsenic in the plate himself, for the express purpose of accusing the hadji. Connecting this event with all Macota's former intrigues, I determined to bring matters to a crisis, and test at once the strength of the respective parties. Accordingly, after complaining of the matter previously mentioned to the rajah, I landed a party of men, fully armed, and loaded the ship's guns with grape and canister; after which I once more proceeded to Muda Hassim, and, while I protested my kindness toward him, exposed Macota's machinations and crimes, his oppression and his deceit, and threatened him with an attack, as neither Muda Hassim nor myself were safe while he continued practicing these arts. Muda Hassim was frightened; but how Macota felt I can not say, as he never moved out of his house, and it was long afterward before he was seen. From my knowledge, however, of his temperament, I can well conceive that he was reduced to a pitiable state of terror. The Siniawans took my part directly; and their chiefs came to me to say that 200 men were all ready whenever I pleased to call for them. The Chinese and the rest of the inhabitants took no side; and Macota did not get a single follower besides his immediate slaves, perhaps about twenty in number. After this demonstration affairs proceeded cheerily to a conclusion. The rajah was active in settling; the agreement was drawn out, sealed, and signed; guns fired, flags waved; and on the 24th of September, 1841, I became the Governor of Sarawak, with the fullest powers." Being now regularly established in his government, Mr. Brooke, with his usual activity and circumspection, applied himself to the discharge of the onerous duties it imposed upon him; and his first acts were such as equally displayed his wisdom, firmness, and humanity. His journal runs thus: "_Nov. 3d._--I have a country; but, oh! how beset with difficulties, how ravaged by war, torn by dissensions, and ruined by duplicity, weakness, and intrigue! Macota's underhand dealings, after the conclusion of my agreement with Muda Hassim had been ratified, soon brought letters from his Sambas friends, _i. e._, one from the sultan, one from the Tumangong, and one from another Pangeran--an immense effort of conspiracy and correspondence! Of these letters the sultan's alone was curious; for the rest only dealt in professions of devoted attachment to the person and interests of Muda Hassim. But the sultan, for want of some better plea, made use of the following singular specimen of reasoning, viz., that the Chinese Kunsi were indebted to him a sum of money, which they had agreed to pay him in antimony ore; the agreement was not to pay him in gold, or money, or other commodity--only in antimony ore; therefore he wanted antimony ore. To this it was properly replied, that an arrangement had been made with me, and that the Chinese could not agree to give antimony ore without his (Muda Hassim's) consent. "My first object, on holding the reins of government, was to release the unfortunate women confined for a whole year by the rajah. This, indeed, was not only necessary to inspire confidence in my just intentions, but was dictated by humanity. I found Muda Hassim not averse to take the measure, _now_ that he had really resolved to adhere to my advice, and consequently I had the sincere satisfaction, within a few days, of liberating upward of a hundred females and young children, and of restoring them to their husbands and fathers; this act being somewhat alloyed by Muda Hassim detaining twelve females, and among them _two wives_. I urged as strongly as I could, but without success, the advisability of releasing the whole; and I was obliged, at last, to content myself with the mass, and yield the few whom I could only have got _by force_ or the utter abrogation of our infant treaty. When I pressed the affair, it was answered that, except for me, _none_ would have regained their liberty; and that the release was an act of great kindness and unexampled confidence toward me; that what had been done was perfectly accordant with their customs; and that the women detained were for the rajah's brothers--so far, indeed, from being intended as an injury to the women, it was a great honor and advantage. I explained the circumstances to the Patingi and Tumangong, and they acquiesced in the decision--allowing the custom--and said they had gained so much more than they had ever hoped for, that they could submit to the rest. "The next step was to assemble the Siniawans, who, since the close of the war, would run away, and whom it was found impossible to keep here. Some had retired to Sambas; some (among them Patingi Ali) had gone to Sariki; and others had built a village on the borders of the Sambas territory. The whole aim and object of Macota's government was to get these people back; and those who were already here were constantly plying backward and forward to recall their companions; but as soon as they succeeded in getting one family, another absconded. Confidence alone could restore them; and I therefore intimated to the Patingi and Tumangong that there was no occasion for their seeking them; that I by no means desired their return; and that any of their people who wished to leave the country were at liberty to do so whenever they felt inclined. This had the desired effect, in a short time, of bringing back the fugitives from Pankalon Nibong; and they continued daily to arrive from Sambas. "My next measure was to inquire into the state of the Dyaks, to gain their confidence, and, as much as it was within my power, prevent the oppressions of the Malays. It was necessary, likewise, to fix a rate of tax to be levied yearly; and the prospect seemed fair, as the chief people of the following tribes had come in, and agreed that such a tax on rice, amounting to sixteen gantongs, would be required from each man, and that for the rest they would be obliged to labor; that they could trade at pleasure; that no man could demand any thing from them; that their wives and children were safe; and that, in case any trouble arose, they were to let me know, and I would myself come to their assistance. The tribes were, Lundu, Sarambo, Bombak, Paninjow, and Sow. The only other tribe on the right-hand river were the Singè, a powerful and stiff-necked people, with good reason to be shy; but when once they are treated justly, their strength will be advantageous, and give them confidence to resist oppression. "The story told me by the three heads of the Sow Dyaks brought tears into my eyes, as they each in turn related their grievances. One of them, a remarkably intelligent person, addressed me nearly in the following terms: 'From former times we have been the subjects of the Patek of Borneo. The Borneons are the elder brothers, we the younger; and the custom of old was, that we should pay revenue and find protection. But they forgot what was right, and departed from the custom, and robbed the Dyaks, and oppressed them. We have done no wrong: we listened to the commands of the Patingi who was put over us by the Patek. If he did wrong, he should be punished; but we have suffered because we obeyed the commands of the officer legally appointed. You might, sir, a few years ago, have sought in this river, and not have found a happier tribe than ours. Our children were collected around us; we had rice in plenty, and fruit-trees; our hogs and fowls were in abundance; we could afford to give what was demanded of us, and yet live happily. Now we have nothing left. The Sadong people and the Sakarran Dyaks attacked us: they burned our houses, destroyed our property, cut down our fruit-trees, killed many of our people, and led away our wives and young children into slavery. We could build another house; we could plant fruit-trees and cultivate rice; but where can we find wives? Can we forget our young children? We have asked the Patek to restore them; we have asked Pangeran Macota to restore them: they have told us they would, but have not; we can not trust them; their words are fair, but in their hearts they do not mean to help us. We have now no one to trust but you--will you help us? Will you restore our wives and children? If we get our families, you will never repent it: you will find us true.' "What could I answer? I could not deceive them, as I knew not how to obtain their object; I therefore told them I feared it was impossible; but I would try, and they themselves should go and try at the same time. Poor, unhappy people, who suffer for the crimes of others! God knows, I will aid you to the utmost of my power. "_Nov. 5th._--To-day the greatest, and I hope the final, struggle of the opposing faction was developed by the arrival of a brig from Sambas, with two of the sultan's sons on board; Macota in high spirits, and my party looking rather desponding; and, in fact, I can not trust them against Sambas. For good or for bad, for success or for failure, for life or for death, I will act justly, and preserve the high hand over Macota. "After the steps I have mentioned, I determined to open a court for the administration of justice, wherein I should preside, together with such of the rajah's brothers as liked to assist me. As for a jury, or any machinery of form or law, it was rejected, because it must be inefficient, if not corrupt; and the only object I aimed at was, keeping witnesses out of ear-shot of each other, hearing the evidence, deciding as appeared best, and in future punishing. This simple plan insured substantial redress; and it gave all the people confidence in me, and a notion of what was right. "The first case was a follower of the rajah's, of the name of Sunudeen; and a greater villain could not exist either in this or any other land. It was as follows: A man from Samarahan, named Bujong, had undertaken to marry his daughter to a Sarawak man called Abdullah; but Abdullah proving a dissolute character, and greatly in debt, Bujong broke off the engagement before the proper authorities, and returned the presents which Abdullah, according to custom, had made. Abdullah, it appeared, was indebted a small sum to Matassim (Mohammed Orsin), and, between Sunudeen and Matassim, they resolved to lay the debt on Bujong's shoulders; in other words, to plunder Bujong under false pretenses. Accordingly, Sunudeen, with his comrade, went to Samarahan; and, in his capacity of follower of the rajah, demanded the debt due by Abdullah to Matassim. Bujong having no money, Sunudeen proceeded and seized his nephew, a boy, and a slave-man belonging to him, as _his slaves_. Poor Bujong resisted, and recovered his nephew, but yielded his slave; he appealed, however, to the Orang Kaya de Gadong's sons, and they failing, a Nakodah stated the case secretly to me. I investigated it, and ordered the return of the slave in my presence, which was obeyed. This may give an idea of the state of the country, and the power of every petty scoundrel hanging about the rajah to rob and plunder at pleasure. "_7th._--I have before mentioned that the Dyaks of Sibnow bury their dead; but I always found a reluctance on their part to show me their place of sepulture. Once, indeed, chance led me to the burial-ground of part of that tribe settled at Simunjang; but, as they seemed restless to get away, I only took a hasty survey. The reason, I have lately learned, for this is, that in their graves they deposit the golden ornaments and other property of the person deceased, amounting frequently to a considerable value in the precious metals, brass swivels, gongs, &c. "The tribe now at Lundu were formerly settled on the Samarahan river for many years; and their burial-place there contained the ashes of the parents and grandparents of the present chief, who, with his followers, were not long ago driven to Lundu; and their former settlement being deserted, it has been the employment of some of the rascals here to rob these graves of their contents, and to desecrate the repose of the dead. The Orang Kaya of Lundu complained to me sadly, but mournfully, on this account, and said that if he could not find redress from the rajah, he must obtain it himself by taking the heads of those who had disinterred the bones of his ancestors. His whole manner convinced me that they hold the burying-places in great respect; and my advice, to remove the wealth and bones to a place of security at Lundu, was rejected on the ground that they could not disturb the remains of those whom they had once deposited in the earth. "While there is so much of right feeling and manly principle in the actions of these Dyaks, the miserable race who pretend to be their superiors have no single virtue or good intention. I do not, however, mean to confound the inhabitants of Sarawak, or the other rivers, with those of Borneo Proper. The latter are thoroughly corrupt and profligate. The former are Malays, but have their good qualities, and certainly are not possessed with the spirit of intrigue which seems the life, the only moving principle of the Borneons. It may truly be said of the latter, that they would tell a lie when the truth would serve them better. They will employ duplicity and treachery on every slight occasion; defeat their own purpose by their meanness, and yet continue in the same crooked paths. They will conspire without any object, or one too mysterious to arrive at; and, while they raise a cloud of doubts in the mind of the poor, their own equals look on and detect the game. Yet, after all, they gain but little individually; because so many are practicing the same arts at the same time with equal skill; and the country is so exhausted by their oppressions and rapacity, that in the end there is nothing to be got by their tricks and manoeuvers. It is a strange state of society, and it is only wonderful how it can exist; but they have their reward in being poor and ill-provided, though living in the midst of a marvelously fertile and luxurious country. "_December 31st._--The last day of the year, in which I must bring up the arrears of my account. "The Sambas brig left only yesterday, after exhausting every effort of intrigue, and every artifice which Malays can invent, to compass their ends. "With the Sambas brig came Seriff Hussein, a relation of the Sultan of Pontiana, and half Arab half Bugis by descent. He came with the avowed purpose of entering into the most friendly communication with me, and residing here, provided I gave him any encouragement. His real motive (if he has one) not being obvious, I, in the mean time, treated him with all kindness; and he is an intelligent and pleasing person, and, moreover, connected with the Siniawans, who have a good opinion of him." CHAPTER XII. Reflections on the new year.--The plundered village, and other wrongs.--Means for their suppression.--The new government proceeds to act.--The constitution.--Preparations for an expedition against the Sea Dyaks.--Form of a treaty.--Wreck of the Viscount Melbourne.--Administration of justice.--Difficulties and dangers.--Dyak troubles.--Views and arrangements of the Chinese.--Judicial forms.--Wrongs and sufferings of the Lundus. "_Jan. 1st, 1842._--The past year is in the bosom of eternity, into which bourne we are all hurrying. Here we have no merry-making, no reunion of families, no bright fires or merry games, to mark the advent of 1842; but we have genial weather, and are not pinched by cold or frost. This is a year which to me must be eventful; for at its close I shall be able to judge whether I can maintain myself against all the circumstances and difficulties which beset me, or whether I must retreat, broken in fortune, to some retirement in my native land. I look with calmness on the alternative, and God knows no selfish motives weigh on me; and if I fail, my chief regret will be for the natives of this unhappy country. Let the year roll on, let the months pass; and whatever they bring--whether it be life or death, fortune or poverty--I am prepared; and in the deep solitude of my present existence I can safely say that I believe I could bear misfortune better than prosperity. In this, probably, I am not singular; for there is something in prosperity which, if it does not make us worse, makes us more foolish and more worldly--which decks passing time with wreaths of gay flowers, and gilds the things of this life with tinsel hopes and wishes, to the exclusion of the pure gold of reflection for the life to come. What are all these gewgaws, these artificial flowers, these momentary joys, these pleasures of the sense, before the war of time? Nothing! And yet, if exertion can benefit our race, or even our own country--if the sum of human misery can be alleviated--if these suffering people can be raised in the scale of civilization and happiness--it is a cause in which I could suffer, it is a cause in which I _have_ suffered and _do suffer_; hemmed in, beset, anxious, perplexed, and the good intent marred by false agents--surrounded by weakness, treachery, falsehood, and folly, is suffering enough; and to feel myself on the threshold of success, and only withheld by the want of adequate means, increases this suffering. Hail, however, 1842! Come good, come ill, still hail! and many as are the light hearts which have already greeted thee, mine will be more ready to bow to the decrees of Providence which thy twelve months will develop. "_Jan. 3d._--I have mentioned that the Sanpro had been attacked from Sadong; and I now learn that, at the time, the men were out of the village, and thus the women and children alone suffered; twenty-two have been carried away into slavery. The village was burned after being plundered, and the unfortunate people have since been living in the jungle, with only such food as they could get there. The head of the tribe and about six of his followers came down the river on a raft to ask assistance from me, and I had the story from them. They were relieved as far as my means admitted, and returned far happier than they came. The very same day arrived news that six men of the Sows were cut off by a wandering party of the Sakarrans. "This leads me naturally to consider the means by which these atrocities may be prevented. I propose first to send letters to Seriff Sahib of Sadong, Seriff Muller of Sakarran, and Seriff Jaffer of Singè, stating that I wish to be on good terms with my neighbors, but am determined to attack any place which sends Dyaks to rob in my country; and that I call on them to restrain their subjects from making incursions here. In case this warning is neglected, I must strike one blow suddenly, as a farther warning, and keep a good lookout at sea to destroy any Dyak fleet that may be prowling outside. A good-sized boat, with a six-pounder and a swivel or two, will effect the latter object, backed by two or four light, fast-pulling boats, with musketry, which, when the Dyak prahus fly, may keep pace with them and thin their pullers, till the heavier boat can come up. To carry one of their campongs, I must have twenty-five Europeans, and from some thirty to fifty Bugis, who, coming from Singapore, may proceed at once to Sadong, or, rather, the campong Tangi. Seriff Sahib is a great freebooter, and dispatches his retainers to attack the weak tribes here for the sake of the slaves, calculating, on the rajah's presumed weakness, that he can do so with impunity. He may find himself mistaken. "Seriff Muller is a brother of Seriff Sahib, and lives at Sakarran, which powerful Dyak tribe are always willing to be sent by either brother on a forage for heads and slaves. It is certain, however, that they could never come from the Sadong side without Seriff Sahib's permission; and on the late attack on Sanpro they were accompanied by a party of Malays. "Seriff Jaffer is by no means mixed up with these brothers, and there is no love lost between them; nor would he, I think, do anything to annoy me. This is the foreign policy. "The domestic policy is as disturbed as the foreign. The rajah weak, Macota intriguing, and my ministers--viz., the Patingi (Abong Mia), the Bandar, and Tumangong--all false and foolish, and Macota's men; with me, however, are the Siniawans. "_Jan. 6th._--The Sambas brig returned, having been baffled and beat about, and nearly lost at sea, unable to weather Tanjong Datu. The crew say she was one hour under water. She now remains here to wait the change of the monsoon, and her intriguing Pangerans return by land. "_8th._--Seriff Hussein returned from Sambas, having been nearly stabbed while there. The assassins, it was understood, were here, and I endeavored to apprehend them; but, having heard of the seriff's arrival, they made off. "_10th._--This day the first laws and regulations are to be promulgated in Sarawak; and as the event is a rare one, I here inscribe a copy for the benefit of future legislators, observing that there is an absolute necessity for mildness and patience, and that an opposite course would raise such a host of enemies as to crush every good seed; for, as it is, the gentlest course of justice brings down much odium, and arouses intense dislike among a people who have had no law but their own vile intrigues to guide or control them. "Two cases have lately come to notice, which will serve as examples of their singular crimes. "One poor man owed another sixteen reals, and the debtor was away trading for a few days, when the creditor sold the daughter (a free woman) for thirty reals, to a person of influence. "The second case, a respectable man, or a respectably born man, owed a Pangeran fifty peculs of ore, and proposed to make over to him in payment, a slave woman and her four children. The woman _had been_ a slave of his grandfather's, but was adopted as his daughter, and enfranchised publicly; yet by intimidation, they were near getting her and her offspring. Here the Pangerans and Nakodas bully a man into silence and acquiescence; and the people dare not, as yet, bring their complaints to me. But I hear these things, call the parties together, and often prevent the commission of a premeditated crime; by which means I save myself from the odium of punishing. "There is great difficulty in acting at once with temper and firmness, so as to appear the benefactor rather than the tyrant. It is, indeed, an arduous and troublesome task; but _I think I see_ a ray of light to encourage me. "Here are the regulations, which I had printed at Singapore in the Malayan language:-- "James Brooke, esquire, governor (rajah), of the country of Sarawak, makes known to all men the following regulations:-- "'1st. That murder, robbery, and other heinous crimes will be punished according to the ondong-ondong (_i.e._ the written law of Borneo); and no person committing such offences will escape, if, after fair inquiry, he be proved guilty. "'2d. In order to insure the good of the country, all men, whether Malays, Chinese, or Dyaks, are permitted to trade or labor according to their pleasure, and to enjoy their gains. "'3d. All roads will be open, that the inhabitants at large may seek profit both by sea or by land; and all boats coming from others are free to enter the river and depart, without let or hinderance. "'4th. Trade, in all its branches, will be free, with the exception of antimony ore, which the governor holds in his own hands, but which no person is forced to work, and which will be paid for at a proper price when obtained. The people are encouraged to trade and labor, and to enjoy the profits which are to be made by fair and honest dealing. "'5th. It is ordered that no person going among the Dyaks shall disturb them, or gain their goods under false pretences. It must be clearly explained to the different Dyak tribes, that the revenue will be collected by the three Datus, bearing the seal of the governor; and (except this yearly demand from the government) they are to give nothing to any person; nor are they obliged to sell their goods except they please and at their own prices. "'6th. The governor will shortly inquire into the revenue, and fix it at a proper rate; so that every one may know certainly how much he has to contribute yearly to support the government. "'7th. It will be necessary, likewise, to settle the weights, measures, and money current in the country, and to introduce doits, that the poor may purchase food cheaply. "'8th. The governor issues these commands, and will enforce obedience to them; and while he gives all protection and assistance to the persons who act rightly, he will not fail to punish those who seek to disturb the public peace or commit crimes; and he warns all such persons to seek their safety, and find some other country where they may be permitted to break the laws of God and man.' "_Jan. 11th._--I have frequently said that all law and custom have been long banished from this country; but I may here retrace the customs which once obtained, the best of which I wish to restore. "The inhabitants were all considered the property of the sultan--serfs rather than slaves--and were divided into four classes. Imprimis, the Dyaks (the aborigines); the Bruni, or people of the soil, probably the descendants of the first Malay emigrants; the Awang-Awang, the meaning of which I am ignorant of; and the Hamba Rajah, or rajah's slaves. There is every reason to believe the Dyaks are an aboriginal people; but between the Bruni and Awang-Awang it is difficult to decide the priority. The Hamba Rajah speaks for itself. "These three distinctions have been long confounded by intermarriage; and the names rather than the reality are retained. The governors of the country are the Patingi, a Bandar, and a Tumangong, who are appointed from Borneo. Each of the classes was formerly ruled by its particular officer, and the Dyaks were appropriated likewise among them; the Patingi holding the tribes on the right-hand river, the Bandar to the left, and the Tumangong on the sea-coast. The annual revenue paid to Borneo was 300 reals; but they were subject to extra demands, and to the extortions of the powerful chiefs. "The government of the Dyaks I have already detailed; and though we might hope that in a more settled state of things they would have been more secure from foreign pillage, yet they were annually deprived of the proceeds of their labor, debarred from trade, and deprived of every motive to encourage industry. The character of their rulers for humanity alone fixed the measure of their suffering, and bad was the best; but it seems to be a maxim among all classes of Malays, that force alone can keep the Dyaks in proper subjection; which is so far true, that force alone, and the hopelessness of resistance, could induce a wild people to part with the food on which they depend for subsistence. At a distance I have heard of and pitied the sufferings of the negroes and the races of New Holland--yet it was the cold feeling dictated by reason and humanity; but now, having witnessed the miseries of a race superior to either, the feeling glows with the fervor of personal commiseration: so true is it that visible misery will raise us to exertion, which the picture, however powerfully delineated, can never produce. The thousands daily knelled out of the world, who lie in gorgeous sepulchres, or rot unburied on the surface of the earth, excite no emotion compared to that conjured up by the meanest dead at our feet. We read of tens of thousands killed and wounded in battle, and the glory of their deeds, or the sense of their defeat attracts our sympathy; but if a single mangled warrior, ghastly with wounds and writhing with pain, solicited our aid, we should deplore his fate with tenfold emotion, and curse the strife which led to such a result. Among the thousands starving for want of food we trouble not ourselves to seek one; but if the object is presented before our eyes, how certain a compassion is aroused! To assist is a duty; but in the performance of this duty, to be gentle and feeling is god-like; and probably between individuals, there is no greater distinction than in this tender sympathy toward distress. Poor, poor Dyaks! exposed to starvation, slavery, death! you may well raise the warmest feelings of compassion--enthusiasm awakes at witnessing your sufferings! To save men from death has its merit; but to alleviate suffering, to ameliorate all the ills of slavery, to protect these tribes from pillage and yearly scarcity, is far nobler; and if, in the endeavor to do so, one poor life is sacrificed, how little is it in the vast amount of human existence! "_18th._--A Chinese boat with four men was chased into the river by four Dyak prahus, and escaped with difficulty. On the intelligence reaching me, I, with some trouble, mustered three canoes, and we proceeded down, about one o'clock in the morning, in search of the enemy. After rowing in the dark for some hours, we discovered a light gliding up the river, and gave chase, but did not succeed; and at daybreak returned, wet and tired, without seeing anything more, when we learnt that the chase was a Sarawak boat, which, mistaking us for Dyaks, as we did them, pulled with all speed home, and gave the alarm of being nearly captured. "In the evening I ordered a fine boat to be prepared for the war with Sarebus and Sakarran, which appears to me inevitable; as it is impossible, laying all motives of humanity aside, to allow these piratical tribes to continue their depredations, which are inconsistent with safety, and a bar to all trade along the coast. Eighty prahus of Sarebus and Sakarran are reported to be ready, and waiting for further reinforcements before putting to sea. "_19th._--Information of three more of my Dyaks being cut off in the interior by the predatory tribes. "_20th._--Opened the subject of restoring the old Patingi, Bandar, and Tumangong, and found Muda Hassim quite willing, but wishing to wait till he hears from Borneo; at the same time telling me that I might employ them in their respective situations. This matter I consider, therefore, settled; and as these men are natives, and have the command of all the common people, and are, moreover, willing to serve under me, I conceive it a great advance in my government. Since my return here they have proved themselves faithful and ready; but though true in adversity, will they continue equally so in prosperity? I hope the best from them, especially as their circumstances will be easy; and I will endeavor to pay them as much as I can. Pay well, and men may be trusted. Either way, it is a great advance; for every change will not occur immediately; and, in the mean time, I shall be strengthened by in-comers, especially Chinese, so that the parties may be balanced, and each look to me as the link which holds them together. The government must be a patchwork between good and evil, abolishing only so much of the latter as is consistent with safety. But never must I appear in the light of a reformer, political or religious; for to the introduction of new customs, apparently trivial, and the institution of new forms, however beneficial, the disgust of the semi-barbarous races may be traced. People settled like myself too often try to create a Utopia, and end with a general confusion. The feeling of the native which binds him to his chief is destroyed, and no other principle is substituted in its stead; and as the human mind more easily learns ill than good, they pick up the vices of their governors without their virtues, and their own good qualities disappear, the bad of both races remaining without the good of either. "We are in active preparation to fit out a fleet to meet the piratical Dyaks. The rajah has a fine prahu, which I have taken in hand to repair, and I have purchased a second; and the two, with three or four small canoes, will be able to cope with a hundred or a hundred and fifty Dyak boats. The largest of these boats is worth a description. Fifty-six feet in length and eight in breadth; built with a great sheer, so as to raise the bow and stern out of the water, and pulling thirty paddles, she is a dangerous customer when mounting four swivels and carrying a crew of twenty men with small arms. She is called the 'Snake,' or 'Ular.' The second boat, somewhat shorter and less fast, is named the 'Dragon;' her complement of paddles twenty, and her fighting-men twenty, make one hundred and forty in, two boats. The long canoes carry fifteen men each, which will bring the force up to one hundred and eighty-five; and one boat of the rajah's will complete two hundred men, of whom nearly one hundred are armed with muskets. "To show the system of these people, I may mention that one of the principal men proposed to me to send to Sakarran and Sarebus, and intimate that I was about to attack Siquong (a large interior tribe), and invite them to assist. 'They will all come,' he said: 'nothing they will like so well; and when they are up the Samarahan river, we will sally forth, attack; and destroy them at one blow.' My answer was, that I could not deceive; but if they did come, I would attack them. "_Feb. 1st._--Matari, or 'the Sun,' the Sakarran chief I have already mentioned, arrived with two boats, and paid me several visits. He assured me he wanted to enter into an agreement, to the effect that neither should injure the other. To this treaty I was obliged to add the stipulation, that he was neither to pirate by sea nor by land, and not to go, under any pretence, into the interior of the country. His shrewdness and cunning were remarkably displayed. He began by inquiring, if a tribe, either Sakarran or Sarebus, pirated on my territory, what I intended to do. My answer was, 'To enter their country and lay it waste.' But he asked me again, 'You will give me, your friend, leave to steal a few heads occasionally?' 'No,' I replied, 'you cannot take a single head; you cannot enter the country: and if you or your countrymen do, I will have a hundred Sakarran heads for every one you take here.' He recurred to this request several times: 'just to steal one or two!' as a schoolboy would ask for apples. There is no doubt that the two tribes of Sakarran and Sarebus are greatly addicted to head-hunting, and consider the possession as indispensable. The more a man has, the greater his honor and rank; nor is there anything without to check or ameliorate this barbarous habit; for the Malays of all classes, on this coast, take the same pride in heads as the Dyaks themselves, with the exception that they do not place them in their houses, or attach any superstitious ideas to them. "I asked Matari what was the solemn form of agreement among his tribes; and he assured me the most solemn was drinking each other's blood, in which case it was considered they were brothers; but pledging the blood of fowls was another and less solemn form. "On the 26th of January the Royalist's boat, with Captain Hart and Mr. Penfold, second mate, of the Viscount Melbourne, arrived here. The reason, it appears, of the Royalist coming was, to seek the missing crew of the Viscount Melbourne, a large ship wrecked on the Luconia shoal. The captain in the launch, with some Coolies; the first and third mates, with Colonel Campbell of the 37th, M.N.I., in a cutter; the second mate, Mr. Penfold, and the surgeon, in the second cutter; a fourth boat with twenty-five Lascars, and the jolly-boat, making in all five boats, left the vessel well provisioned, and steered in company for the coast, which they made somewhere between Borneo and Tanjong Barram. The fourth boat was missed the night they made the land; and being all at anchor, and the weather fine, it was strongly suspected that the twenty-five Lascars deserted with her. "The other four boats proceeded a day or two, when the first cutter, with Colonel Campbell on board, went in the evening in search of water; and though the rest showed lights all night, returned no more. They were, on the following day, attacked by a prahu, which fired into them and severely wounded one man, and succeeded in capturing the jolly-boat; but finding nothing in her, set her on fire--Lascars and all. The crew, however, was rescued, and she was abandoned; and the two remaining boats, in course of time, arrived at Singapore. The Royalist was taken up by government to seek the missing boats, and just touched here for an hour or two, the boat coming up while the vessel kept the sea. "_Feb. 9th._--Mr. Williamson returned from Sanpro, where I sent him to watch a party of natives who had gone among the Dyaks; the Panglima Sadome, of the tribe of Sanpro, came with him, and brought the lamentable account of the death of eight more Dyaks, cut off by the Sakarrans. It frets me dreadfully; however, on the whole I see a vast improvement, and a degree of confidence in me arising among the Dyaks, greater than I expected. "_14th._--I have now entered on the most difficult task, and the one most likely to cause an ultimate failure in my undertaking, but which is indispensably necessary. I mean, the administration of justice. As long as my laws are applied to the people of the country, there is no trouble; but directly _equal_ justice is administered, it causes heartburn and evasion; the rajahs and Pangerans are surrounded by a gang of followers who heretofore have robbed, plundered, and even murdered, without inquiry being made. It was enough that a follower of the rajah was concerned, to hush up all wrongs; and any of the oppressed, who were bold enough to lodge a complaint, were sure to rue it. All the rascals and ruffians who follow the great men find this species of protection the best and the only reward; and as the slaves are looked upon as personal property, any punishment inflicted upon them is likewise inflicted upon their masters. I have all along foreseen these obstacles, and the necessity of at once combating them--whether successfully or not signifies little; but they must be encountered, and the result left to the Almighty. "Equal justice is the groundwork of society; and unless it can be administered, there can be no hope of ultimate improvement. The country may have bad laws; but such laws as it has must be enforced, gently and mildly as may be toward the superiors, but strictly toward the guilty; and all crimes coming under my cognizance must meet with their punishment. These remarks are preliminary to two cases, in which the rajah's followers have been concerned. "The first of these was a man stealing sago, which is stored without the houses at the water's edge; he was convicted. The other occurred some time since, but has only just been traced. A party at night gutted a house, getting a booty of upward of 200 reals; the goods have been discovered; but the three followers of the rajah have absconded since the affair has been blown; whether to return or not is uncertain. There can be no doubt, however, that they have been sent away to keep clear of the consequences, by one of the rajah's brothers named Abdul Khadir, who, when they were off, accused two accomplices, people of the country! "Another most shameful mode of exaction and tyranny is practiced by these Borneo people, particularly their Nakodas. It consists in lending small sums of money to the natives (that is, Sarawak people), and demanding interest at the rate of fifty per cent per month; by this means a small sum is quickly converted into one which is quite out of the power of the poor man to pay; and he, his wife, and children, are taken to the house of the creditor to work for him, while the debt still accumulates, and the labor is endless. I intend to strike at this slavery in disguise, but not just yet; the suppression of robbery, the criminal department of justice, being more immediately important. "_15th._--I may, in continuation of yesterday, mention another instance in illustration of this oppressive system. Si Pata (a Siniawan), son of the Tumangong, lost in gambling to Nakoda Ursat eighteen reals, which in eighteen months has now arisen to a debt of 170 reals; but all prospect of payment of such an accumulated sum being impossible from a poor man, Nakoda Ursat consigns the debt to Pangeran Abdul Khadir, who can demand it by fair means or by foul; and if Si Pata cannot pay, make his father pay. Thus a gambling transaction is run up to ten times its original amount, and a whole family involved in distress by these iniquitous proceedings. Such things must not be; and odious as they seem to a European, and indignant as they make him, yet he must not proceed with the strong hand. Reflection, too, teaches us that vice is comparative; and in forming a judgment, we must not forget a man's education, the society in which he lives, the absence of restraint, and the force of example from childhood; so that what would be heinous in a Christian long under a settled government, is light by comparison in a Malay, who is a nominal professor of Islam, and brought up with the idea that might makes right, and has no one external cause to deter him from crime. "_March 12th._--On the whole getting on very well, but with many reasons for vexation, and more for anxiety. The chief of these is, whether Mr. Bonham will come here, as I have suggested, or rather pressed. Another feature of inquietude is from the Chinese of Sipang, who certainly aim at greater power than I shall allow them, and perhaps, some day or other, it will come to a struggle. "Petty troubles I do not reckon, though there are enow on all sides, and for the last few days I have felt as if sinking under them; but that is not my usual temperament. I now look impatiently for intelligence. Blow, fair breezes, and waft Royalist here! "_25th._--A period of wearing uncertainty since my last, having news neither of the Royalist nor of Mr. Bonham, and kept on the _qui vive_ by a schooner or two at the entrance of the river. The plot thickens in and around; and for the sake of keeping up a register of events in something like order, I will here mention the leading features. Seriff Sahib, of Sadong, pretends to be friendly, but is treacherous in his heart, as is his brother, Seriff Muller of Sakarran. We have been quite clear of Dyaks, and our own tribes enjoying rest and peace; and one tribe from without, namely Serang, has come in and claimed my protection. The only tribe at all troublesome is the Singè, the chief of which (the Orang Kaya Parembam) is decidedly opposed to me, and swears by Macota. I am given to believe, however, that the majority of his people do not agree with him; and I shall dispossess him of his dignity, and substitute a friendly chief. The Singè Dyaks are the most powerful and numerous in my territory, and the only ones who have not been attacked and plundered by the Sakarrans. "At Lundu are the Sibnowan Dyaks, under the Orang Kaya Tumangong; and the Lundu Dyaks, once a flourishing tribe, now, by ill-treatment of all sorts, reduced to twenty persons. I may mention among my other difficulties, that many, nay most, of the Dyak tribes are held as _private property_: any rascally Borneon making a present to the sultan, gets a grant of a Dyak tribe, originally to rule, now to plunder or sell; and in this way the portion of the Sibnowans settled at Lundu are under Bandar Sumsu; but, being a resolute people, he cannot do them much wrong. This Bandar Sumsu has lately been disturbing the Lundu Dyaks in the following manner: a Sibnowan Dyak lived with the Lundu Dyaks, which gave him an opening to demand of the Lundus the sum of fifty reals (100 rupees), which was paid; but unluckily the Sibnowan died in the course of a few months, still with the Lundus, and a farther sum of eighty reals, or 160 rupees, was demanded, which not being raised, the daughter of one of the head people was seized, and sold for that sum to a Chinaman! "Pangeran Macota has likewise been injuring these poor people, though I shall find it difficult to bring it home to him. His agent, Bandar Dowud (a man involved in debt), took fifteen Dyak cloths and sold them, or rather forced them to take them, at an exorbitant rate; in a month or two after, he returns and demands 200 reals over and above the large price already paid for articles worth seven or eight reals; the poor Dyaks not being able to pay, he seizes the chief's daughter (a married woman), and demands four other women in lieu of the sum. Happily for the poor Dyaks, this news came to my ears, and I sent to Lundu in haste. They had all fled, having _stolen_ their two women, one from each Bandar, and carried them away. On the Patingi and Tumangong reaching Lundu, they found two of the tribe, one the Pangeran, the other the father of the girl sold to the Chinaman, after a long search in the jungle. These two men I have now with me, and wait for the Orang Kaya Tumangong before going into the case. The Pangeran is the same Dyak whose conversation I have detailed at large on my first visit to the place. He is a man of intelligence; and this tribe (if it may yet be so called) has always borne the character of being the most hospitable and generous among the Dyaks. I may at some future time revert to them. "There is a rumor of war between the Sarebus and Sakarran Dyaks, in consequence of the former tribe seizing a Balow woman on the territory of the latter, and refusing to restore her. Let these two predatory tribes employ and weaken one another, and it will be well for us and all the other people of this country, and they will afterward be the more easily brought into subjection. "From Borneo we have news, but as uncertain as everything else regarding the capital. A hundred vessels, it is reported, are coming to attack them; and they, in consequence, are building _a fort_. The Royalist had been there and departed. "Pangeran Usop, it is said, was about to come here, when the arrival of the Royalist induced him to postpone his design. "There is every reason to believe that the Chinese of Sambas, particularly those of Montrado, are extremely dissatisfied; and a report yesterday states that a man sent by the sultan to demand gold had been killed by them, and that the sultan's letter to the Kunsi, after being defiled, was publicly burned. Our own Chinese of Sipang are certainly intriguing with Sambas; and, as the rajah well expresses it, 'their clothes-box is here, but their treasure-chest is at Sambas.' "It is impossible to say what quantity of gold the Kunsi may get; but their pretence that they _get none_ must be false, when every common Malay obtains from half to one bunkal per month. "To counteract the chance of evil, I have intimated that the Simbock Kunsi are to come here; and on the whole, they (of Sipang) have taken it more quietly than I expected. They are not in a state for war; but they have vague notions and intentions provided they can keep out opposition, to make this place subservient to them, as it would indeed be, provided they were allowed to strengthen themselves while the other parties remained stationary. But 'divide and rule' is a good motto in my case; and the Chinese have overlooked the difference between this country and Sambas. There they have numerous rivers in the vicinity of their settlements--here but one; and, the Dyak population being against them, starvation would soon reduce them to terms. The Royalist arrived about the end of March, and sailed again on the 9th April. "I have before mentioned the difficulty of administering justice; and experience teaches me that the risk to myself, on this score, is more to be apprehended than on any other. The forms I have not much alluded to; and the following is as nearly as possible the Malay custom:--The rajah's brothers and myself sit at one end of the long room in my house; at the sides are the Patingis and Tumangong, and other respectable people; in the center the parties concerned; and, behind them, anybody who wishes to be present. We hear both parties; question, if necessary; and decide--and from this decision there is no appeal. One only condition I insist upon; and that is, that in any intricate case, or whenever I dread confederacy, I do not allow the witnesses to hear each other. The laws of evidence, in a _free country_, prohibit any leading questions being put to witnesses: here, for the purposes of justice, it is indispensable; for the people, being ruled by fear, and apprehensive of consequences, often falter before the face of the accused, and their testimony has to be wrung from them. To decide also according to the technicalities of construction would be here ridiculous, and defeat the ends of justice. The people are rude and uncivilized; their oppressors crafty and bold, who have no hesitation about lying, and bringing others to lie for them. Oaths are a farce to them. The aggrieved are timid, vacillating, and simple, and cannot readily procure even necessary evidence; for their witnesses are afraid to speak. Under these circumstances, I look at the leading features of the case, the probability, the characters, the position of parties, and determine according to my judgment. It is not, indeed, a very difficult task; for the disputes are generally glaring, and, when bolstered up, usually fail in their most important links; and at a touch of cross-questioning, the witnesses, resolved to tell the same story, fall into opposite ones. In one case, about a slave, three witnesses had resolved on the sex; but, questioned separately as to size and age, all disagreed. They were not prepared. One represented her a woman grown and marriageable; another, as high as my walking-stick; the third, a little child. "I have now on hand a serious matter, of robbery to a large extent, and three of the rajah's followers are implicated. Would it were over and well!--but done it must be. How little can those at a distance know my difficulties--alone, unaided, the unceasing attention by day, the anxiety and sleeplessness by night, the mountain of doubt upon mountain piled, and the uncertainty of necessary support or assistance! "The Pangeran of the Lundu Dyaks lived with me three weeks, and I was able to do him substantial justice; and hope for the future that his life, and that of the remnant of his tribe, may be rendered more endurable. "His residence with me was doubly advantageous, as it enabled me to ascertain his character, and him to see something of our habits and manners. The impression on my part was highly favorable; for I found him a quiet, intelligent man, and a keen observer; and I believe the impression he received was equally favorable. The _poetry_ of the Dyak expressions is remarkable; and, like most wild people, they seem to delight in oratory, and to be a good deal swayed by it. For hours I have talked with the Pangeran, listened to his history, heard his complaints, sympathized in the misfortunes of his tribe, and shuddered at the wrongs and sufferings they have endured. 'We are few,' he exclaimed, 'and therefore our oppressions are aggravated; the same demands are made upon us as though we were many, and we have not the means of resisting or complying. We fly to the jungle; we are like deer--we have no home, no perch. Our wives and children are taken from us; our sufferings are very great.' On another occasion he said, 'I have felt my sufferings to be so great, that I wished to die, if Jovata would permit it. I wished to die; for I remembered how happy we were once, and how miserable now.' I could dwell largely on these and suchlike language and descriptions, which appear to me highly pathetic and touching--at least I found them so in reality; and I cannot forbear adding one or two more such, highly characteristic. "'Our home,' said the Pangeran, 'was a happy one; none who came to us wanted. The fruit on the trees was saved; the fish in the river near us was never destroyed. Rice was plenty; if it was scarce, we kept it, and fed ourselves upon vegetables, that we might give it to those who visited our habitation. The fish, the fruit, and the rice were preserved, [14] that the men of the seas (Malays) might eat of them; yet they had no pity on us. We were free men, yet they treated us worse than slaves. We are now but few; and unless you protect us, we shall soon cease to be.' Again: 'The Tumangong was severe to us; and when Macota came, he said the Tumangong was a bad man, and he would shield us; but he was much worse than the Tumangong. Now, you say you will cherish us; we believe you; but you are at a distance, and perhaps may not be able.' Further: 'Pangeran Macota kept me nine months in his house, and wanted to make me a slave; but I escaped, and traveled through the woods, and swam the rivers, till I came to my own country. He thought the Dyak had no eyes except in the jungle; he thought he had no ears except to listen to the bird of omen; he thought he had no wit except to grow rice; but the Dyak saw, and heard, and understood, that while his words were sweet, his heart was crooked, and that, whether they were men of the sea or Dyaks, he deceived them with fair sayings; he said one thing to one man, and another to a second; he deceived with a honied mouth. I saw and understood it all while I lived in his house. How could I trust him afterward?' These expressions were concluded by significantly twisting his two fore-fingers round each other, to show the intrigues that were carried on. I grew very fond of this poor naked savage; for if honesty and a kind heart entitle a man to our esteem, he is worthy of it. "I had a long conference with Si Nimook, the Sow Dyak, and hope to recover his wife. Amid all the wealth and all the charity of England, how well bestowed would a small portion be for the purpose of restoring one hundred and fifty women and children to their husbands and parents, and releasing them from slavery! A small rill from the plenteous river would cheer this distant misery, and bestow the blessing of fertility on the now barren soil of these poor Dyaks. Oh, that I had the brass to beg--to draw out a piteous tale so as to touch the heart!" CHAPTER XIII. Ascent of the left-hand river to the Stabad.--Remarkable cave in the Tubbang.--Diamond works at Suntah.--Return.--Infested by Dyak pirates.--A meeting of prahus, and fight.--Seriff Sahib's treatment of the Suntah Dyaks.--Expedition against the Singè.--Their invasion of the Sigos, and taking heads.--The triumph over these trophies.--Arms and modes of war.--Hot and cold council-houses.--Ceremonies in the installation of the Orang Kaya Steer Rajah.--Meeting of various Dyak tribes.--Hostile plans of Seriff Sahib, and their issue.--Resolves to proceed to Borneo Proper. The next portion of Mr. Brooke's Journal details another excursion up the country, and then proceeds to describe the early incidents of his infant government. As he advanced on his way, affairs began to assume more important aspects; and yet they could hardly be painted with greater force or interest than in his simple notes. "_April 25th._--Ascended the left-hand river, in order to introduce the Kunsi Simbock to their new territory; passed the night on a pebbly bank; moon at full, bright and unclouded, tinging the luxuriant foliage, and glancing on the clear rapid stream. Four distinct and distant races met on this lonely and lovely spot--English, Chinese, Malays, and Dyaks! What a scope for poetry and reflection--the time, the clime, the spot, and the company! "_26th._--After our morning meal and bath, entered the small river Stabad, which, according to report, runs from a source two or three days' journey further into the interior. At present it is so obstructed by fallen trees, that we were forced to return, after ascending about four miles. We left our boats near its entrance, and walked to the small but steep mountain, Tubbang. Its length may be about 400 feet. After mounting, by a winding path, about half-way up toward the top, we arrived at the entrance of a cave, into which we descended through a hole. It is fifty or sixty feet long, and the far end is supported on a colonnade of stalactites, and opens on a sheer precipice of 100 or 150 feet. Hence the spectator can overlook the distant scene; the forest lies at his feet, and only a few trees growing from the rock reach nearly to the level of the grotto. The effect is striking and panoramic; the grotto cheerful; floored with fine sand; the roof groined like Gothic, whence the few clear drops which filter through form here and there the fantastic stalactites common to such localities. The natives report the cave to be the residence of a fairy queen; and they show her bed, pillow, and other of her household furniture. Within the cave we found a few remnants of human bones; probably some poor Dyak who had crawled there to die. "Having finished our survey of the place, and wandered sufficiently about the mount, we reëmbarked, and dropped a short way down the river, and started again into the jungle to look for antimony ore, but without success, our guide having forgotten the road. After a couple of hours' wandering, the latter part in a heavy storm of rain, we reached the boats; and I thence ascended to Suntah, where we were all glad to house ourselves, as the deluge continued. "_27th._--I will say nothing of my works at Suntah, except that they run away with my money, are badly conducted by my Chinese hadji, and, above all, that I have great reason to suspect the integrity and steadiness of this said hadji. I must therefore make up my mind either to change him when the business is finished, or to watch him very narrowly; for the honesty of a diamond-worker, like the virtue of Cæsar's wife, must be above suspicion, or he must be watched closely; but how? "_28th._--Descended the river, and, arriving at Sarawak, found both work and cause for inquietude. The rajah had heard of Dyak pirates, and dispatched four boats, two large and two small: the Snake, weakly manned by the Tumangong's people, and the rest led by Pangerans (who neither work nor fight) and a wretched crew, chiefly Borneons. Mr. Crimble, taking my servant Peter and four Javanese, went most imprudently in the second of the large boats. The whole, being dispatched in haste (foolish haste), insufficiently provided in every respect, may fall into trouble, and involve me in very unpleasant circumstances. "The other cause for uneasiness is the attack of a Chinese boat at the mouth of the river. The boat that attacked her is a small one, with eight or ten men, which came out of Sadong, and had been lying here for a week or more. She is commanded by a Pangeran named Badrudeen, has some Illanuns on board, and is bound on a piratical cruise. As she descended the river, she met with the small China boat, likewise from Sambas, with eight men, which she treacherously assailed, desperately wounding one man and severely another; but the China boat's consort heaving in sight, the pirate pulled away. I must redress this, if it be in my power; and have ordered the Datus to gather men to follow the rascals, as it is probable they will be lurking not far from hence. In the mean time it gave me great pain dressing the hurts of these poor Chinese, one of whom I think must die, being cut along the back and side--across the body from the side nearly to the backbone, a ghastly gaping wound, beside having his arm slashed through. The other man is very severely, and perhaps, without medical attendance, mortally, hurt, having his arm half cut through at the muscular development between the shoulder and elbow--poor fellow! I must say for the Chinese, they seem very grateful for any attention shown them. "_29th._--My birthday. Men collected, and to-morrow we start for Telang Telang. This morning, much to my relief, our fleet returned, after an encounter with thirteen Dyak boats. About one o'clock on the 28th, pulling into a bay between Morotaba and Tanjong Poe, they came unexpectedly on them. One Borneon boat had lagged behind; the Pangeran who commanded deserted the second, and sought refuge with the Tumangong, trying to induce him to fly; and the crew of the third, a large boat with my two Europeans on board, was, by their account, in a state of fear, which totally incapacitated them from acting. All rose, none would pull; all shouted, none would serve the guns; all commanded, none obeyed; most were screaming out to run; all bellowing out, in hopes of frightening the enemy; none to direct the helm. The Tumangong, with only seventeen men in all, insisted on advance; and the Borneons, encouraged by threats from the Europeans, and the good example of the Javanese, did not fly. The two boats opened their fire; the Dyaks retreated in confusion and alarm: but from the tumult, the noise, and the rocking of the boat, Mr. Crimble could only fire three times with the bow six-pounder carronade, and from other guns loaded with grape and canister, while the rascally Borneons never fired at all. The Dyaks suffered loss, and left behind them clothes, rice, fish, cooking-pots, swords, &c.; and, considering the state of the Borneons, it was lucky the dread of our prowess put them to flight so easily. Crimble assured me that, with a Siniawan crew, he could have destroyed half their force. The Dyaks behaved very well, pulling off with great steadiness and without noise. "_June 20th._--The events of the month may be compressed into a narrative comprising the internal and external. "The internal state of the country is decidedly improving and flourishing, and bears the aspect of gradually increasing prosperity. Justice has been strictly administered. Robberies, which a few months ago were of nightly occurrence, are now rarely heard of; and that vile intriguing to make poor people slaves, from debt or false claims, is entirely stopped. "The people who had scattered at the close of the war have been collected, and are building their houses a short way up the river at the Campong Jekiso, which, when finished, will be a neat-looking village. "The Pangeran Macota is intriguing; but as he is sure to do that, it need not be insisted upon. "Muda Hassim is true and agreeable, and entirely reconciled to the Patingi and Tumangongs; so far, indeed, nothing can be better than our internal state: there is peace, there is plenty; the poor are not harassed, and justice is done to all. "The Dyaks of the interior are improving and content, and gaining courage daily to complain of any wrong that may be offered them. To the sena, or forced trade, I have almost put a stop, by confiscating the goods wherever met with; and this plan once acted on, the Dyaks have not been slow to bring me bundles of bidongs (Dyak cloths), iron, and the like. "The tribes that continue unsettled are the Suntah and Singè: the affairs of the latter I will mention hereafter. "Suntah has been for a long time under the government of Seriff Sahib of Sadong, and through his _paternal_ charge has dwindled away from four hundred to fifty or sixty families. Shortly after my assuming the reins of government, he dispatched (according to custom) a mixed party of Malays and Dyaks, and falling on my helpless tribe of Sanpro, killed some, and carried away twenty women and children into captivity. I was not strong enough to resent the injury; but wrote him a strong letter, demanding the women, and telling him he was not to send, under any pretext, into my country. The women I did not get; but I heard that the communication frightened him: for, of course, they deem I am backed by all the power of my country. While the Royalist still lay here, I heard that his people were raising the revenue from the Suntah Dyaks; but it must be remarked, that the Suntah are on the edge of my territory, having left the former location. As this was done in the face of my caution not to intermeddle without my consent, I resolved at once to put the matter to the issue; and having armed four boats, went up and seized all the rice and padi collected for my neighbors' use. The Suntah Dyaks were and are alarmed to a pitiable degree; for they fear Seriff Sahib with good reason; and yet my being on the spot gave them no option of evading my demand. Thus the matter was brought to a crisis; and having taken the revenue (as it was called) for the poor Dyaks themselves, I shall be able to keep them from starvation, to the verge of which, so early in the season, they are already reduced. The Dyaks remain unsettled; but I am now in hopes of bringing them to the interior of the Quop, which is further within our own territory. Muda Hassim wrote to Seriff Sahib to tell him the Dyaks were no longer his, but mine; and Seriff Sahib, sore-hearted, conspired against us, and held for some time a higher tone than his wont. "I shall now narrate my proceedings at the mountain of Singè, from which I have just returned. The mountain, with its groves of fruit-trees, has been already described; and as a preface to my present description, I must particularize the circumstances of the Dyak tribe of Singè. The tribe consists of at least 800 males, the most ignorant, and therefore the most wild, of the Dyaks of my country; and, from their position, they have never been overcome or ruined, and are therefore a rich community, and proportionately independent. Their old chief is by name Parembam, and the Panglima, or head-warrior, his younger brother, by name Si Tummo. These men have for a very long time ruled this tribe; and the elder has certainly acquired from the Malays a portion of cunning and intrigue, and lost the general simplicity of the native Dyak character. He is unquestionably a man of ability. His sway, however, on the mountain has for a long time been unpopular; and a large proportion of the people, dissatisfied with his extortions, have been attached to a younger chief, by name Bibit. Some time past, finding it impossible to manage this old chief, Parembam, and being convinced that the change might readily be made, I called Bibit, and made him chief, or Orang Kaya of the tribe. Parembam neither was nor is inclined to give up his authority without a struggle; and though the mass adhere to the new chief, by title 'Steer Rajah,' yet Parembam's long-established customs, his great wealth, and his talents, render him a dangerous old man to the younger leader. One quality, however, Parembam is deficient in, as well as his brother the Panglima, and that is _bravery_; and on this much depends in a Dyak tribe. Steer Rajah, on the contrary, has always been renowned in war, and is the envied possessor of many heads. The Dyaks have among them a fashion which they call bunkit, or vaunting; for instance, in the present case Steer Rajah and Parembam dared each other to go on excursions to procure heads, _i. e._ against their enemies--this is bunkit. One of Steer Rajah's followers went accordingly, and quickly procured the head of a hostile warrior far out of my territory; and on the return of the party, Parembam in turn sent forty men to Simpoke, which is a tribe attached to Samarahan, and on our immediate border. Close to the Dyaks of Simpoke live a party of the Sigo Dyaks, who belong to me; and this party of Parembam's, confounding friends and enemies, killed some of the Sigo Dyaks--how many is not certain. The Sigos, taking the alarm, cut off their retreat, and killed two of the Singè Dyaks; and many beside were wounded by sudas and ranjows, and, all broken, fled back to their own country. Thus, though they obtained five heads, they lost two, and those belonging to their principal warriors. This news reaching me, I hurried up to the hill, and arrived just after part of the war-party had brought the heads. "I may here remark, that I have positively forbidden the Dyak tribes within my territory to war one upon the other; and this, therefore, was a serious offence against me on the part of Parembam. At once to aim at more than this restriction would be fruitless, and even risk my ability to effect this first step on the road to improvement. I likewise came up here to go through the ceremony of installing the Orang Kaya Steer Rajah in his office; and thus I have had an excellent opportunity of seeing their customs and manners. What follows will be a personal narration, or nearly so, of what I have seen; and it applies, with slight difference, to almost all the interior tribes. "On our ascending the mountain, we found the five heads carefully watched, about half a mile from the town, in consequence of the non-arrival of some of the war-party. They had erected a temporary shed close to the place where these miserable remnants of noisome mortality were deposited; and they were guarded by about thirty young men in their finest dresses, composed principally of scarlet jackets ornamented with shells, turbans of the native bark-cloth dyed bright yellow, and spread on the head, and decked with an occasional feather, flower, or twig of leaves. Nothing can exceed their partiality for these trophies; and in retiring from the 'war-path,' the man who has been so fortunate as to obtain a head hangs it about his neck, and instantly commences his return to his tribe. If he sleep on the way, the precious burden, though decaying and offensive, is not loosened, but rests on his lap, while his head (and nose!) reclines on his knees. The retreat is always silently made until close to home, when they set up a wild yell, which announces their victory and the possession of its proofs. It must, therefore, be considered, that these bloody trophies are the evidences of victory--the banner of the European, the flesh-pot of the Turk, the scalp of the North American Indian--and that they are torn from enemies, for taking heads is the effect and not the cause of war. On our reaching the Balei, or public hall, of the Orang Kaya Steer Rajah, I immediately called a number of their chiefs together, and opened a conference with them on the subject of Parembam having attacked and killed the Dyaks of Sigo. They _all_ disapproved of it most highly, asserting that the Sigos were their younger brothers; that no sufficient cause had ever existed; that Parembam had acted badly, and must pay to purchase _peace_. Were they, I asked, willing to force Parembam into payment? They were. Would they insist on the heads being restored to the Sigos, and receive those of their own people? They would! "It may be observed, that their causes for war, as well as its progress and termination, are exactly the same as those of other people. They dispute about the limits of their respective lands; about theft committed by one tribe upon another; about occasional murders; the crossing each other on the war-path; and about a thousand other subjects. "When a tribe is on a warlike excursion, it often happens that their track (or 'trail') is crossed by another tribe. Those who strike the trail guard it at some convenient spot, apprehending the party to be enemies; they plant ranjows in the path, and wait till the returning party are involved among them to make an attack. If enemies, and they succeed, all is well; but if friends, though no attack be made, it is a serious offence, and mostly gives occasion to war if not paid for. The progress of the contest consists in attacking each other by these surprises, particularly about the time of sowing, weeding, and cutting the rice-crops. When one party is weaker, or less active, or less warlike than the other, they solicit a peace through some tribe friendly to both, and pay for the lives they have taken: the price is about two gongs, value 33 1/2 reals, for each life: thus peace is concluded. This is the custom with these Dyaks universally; but it is otherwise with the Sarebus and Sakarran. But Sarebus and Sakarran are not fair examples of Dyak life, as they are pirates as well as head-hunters, and do not hesitate to destroy all persons they meet with. "Parembam, having been called before me, declared that these heads belonged to the Simpoke Dyaks, and that they had not attacked the Sigos. As I was not quite certain of the fact, I thought it unjust to proceed against him till I had stronger proof. "On the following morning the heads were brought up to the village, attended by a number of young men all dressed in their best, and were carried to Parembam's house amid the beating of gongs and the firing of one or two guns. They were then disposed of in a conspicuous place in the public hall of Parembam. The music sounded and the men danced the greater part of the day; and toward evening carried them away in procession through all the campongs except three or four just about me. The women, in these processions, crowd round the heads as they proceed from house to house, and put sirih and betel-nut in the mouths of the ghastly dead, and welcome them! After this they are carried back in the same triumph, deposited in an airy place, and left to dry. During this process, for seven, eight, or ten days, they are watched by the boys of the age of six to ten years; and during this time they never stir from the public hall--they are not permitted to put their foot out of it while engaged in this sacred trust. Thus are the youths initiated. "For a long time after the heads are hung up, the men nightly meet and beat their gongs, and chant addresses to them, which were rendered thus to me: 'Your head is in our dwelling, but your spirit wanders to your own country.' 'Your head and your spirit are now ours: persuade, therefore, your countrymen to be slain by us.' 'Speak to the spirits of your tribe: let them wander in the fields, that when we come again to their country we may get more heads, and that we may bring the heads of your brethren, and hang them by your head,' &c. The tone of this chant is loud and monotonous, and I am not able to say how long it is sung; but certainly for a month after the arrival of the heads, as one party here had had a head for that time, and were still exhorting it. "These are their customs and modes of warfare; and I may conclude by saying that, though their trophies are more disgusting, yet their wars are neither so bloody, nor their cruelties so great, as those of the North American Indian. They slay all they meet with of their enemies--men, women, and children; but this is common to all wild tribes. They have an implacable spirit of revenge as long as the war lasts, retort evil for evil, and retaliate life for life; and, as I have before said, the heads are the trophies, as the scalps are to the red men. But, on the contrary, they never torture their enemies, nor do they devour them; and peace can always be restored among them by a very moderate payment. In short, there is nothing new in their feelings, or in their mode of showing them; no trait remarkable for cruelty; no head-hunting for the sake of head-hunting. They act precisely on the same impulses as other wild men: war arises from passion or interest; peace from defeat or fear. As friends, they are faithful, just, and honest; as enemies, blood-thirsty and cunning, patient on the war-path, and enduring fatigue, hunger, and want of sleep, with cheerfulness and resolution. As woodmen they are remarkably acute; and on all their excursions carry with them a number of ranjows, which, when they retreat, they stick in behind them, at intervals, at a distance of twenty, fifty, or a hundred yards, so that a hotly-pursuing enemy gets checked, and many severely wounded. Their arms consist of a sword, an iron-headed spear, a few wooden spears, a knife worn at the right side, with a sirih-pouch, or small basket. Their provision is a particular kind of sticky rice, boiled in bamboos. When once they have struck their enemies, or failed, they return, without pausing, to their homes. "To proceed with my journal. My principal object in coming up the hill was, to appoint the Orang Kaya Steer Rajah as the chief, beside Pagise as Panglima, or head warrior, and Pa Bobot as Pangeran, or revenue officer. It was deemed by these worthy personages quite unfit that this ceremony should take place in the public hall or circular house, as that was the place wherein the heads are deposited, and where they hold councils of war. "With the Dyaks, all council is divided into hot and cold; peace, friendship, good intentions, are all included under the latter head--war, &c., are under the former. Hot is represented by red, and cold by white. So in everything they make this distinction; and as the public hall is the place for war-councils and war-trophies, it is hot in the extreme, unfit for friendly conference. A shed was therefore erected close to the Orang Kaya's house, wherein the ceremony was to take place. About nine in the evening we repaired to the scene; loud music, barbarous but not unpleasing, resounded, and we took our seats on mats in the midst of our Dyak friends. A feast was in preparation; and each guest (if I may call them such) brought his share of rice in bamboos, and laid it on the general stock. As one party came up after another, carrying their burning logs, the effect was very good; and they kept arriving until the place and its vicinity was literally crammed with human beings. A large antique sirih-box was placed in the midst; and I contributed that greatest of luxuries, tobacco. "The feast, in the mean time, was in preparation, some of the principal people being employed in counting the number who were to eat, and dividing the bamboos into exactly equal portions for each person. About six inches were allotted to every man; and it took a very long time to divide it, for they are remarkably particular as to the proper size and quantity to each share. The bamboos of rice being, however, at length satisfactorily disposed, the Orang Kaya produced as his share a large basin full of sauce, composed of salt and chilis, and a small stock of sweetmeats; and then the ceremony of his installation commenced as follows: "A jacket, a turban, a cloth for the loins, and a kris (all of white) were presented to the chief as a token of sejiek dingin, or cold, _i.e._ good. The chief then rose, and, taking a white fowl and waving it over the eatables, repeated nearly the following words:--(The commencement, however, is curious enough to dwell upon: the opening is a sort of invocation, beginning with the phrase, 'Samungut, Simungi.' Samungut is a Malay word, Simungi signifying the same in Dyak; the exact meaning it is difficult to comprehend; but it is here understood as some principle, spirit, or fortune, which is in men and things. Thus the Dyaks, in stowing their rice at harvest, do it with great care, from a superstitious feeling that the Simungi of the padi will escape. They now call this principle to be present--that of men, of pigs (their favorite animal), of padi, and of fruits. They particularly named my Simungi, that of my ancestors, of the Pangeran from Borneo, of the Datus and of their ancestors, and of the ancestors of their own tribe. They call them--that is, their Simungi--to be present. They then call upon Jovata to grant their prayer, that the great man from Europe, and the Datus, might hold the government for a length of time)--'May the government be cold' (good); 'May there be rice in our houses;' 'May many pigs be killed;' 'May male children be born to us;' 'May fruit ripen;' 'May we be happy, and our goods abundant;' 'We declare ourselves to be true to the great man and the Datus; what they wish we will do, what they command is our law.' Having said this and much more, the fowl was taken by a leading Malay, who repeated the latter words, while others bound strips of white cloth round the heads of the multitude. The fowl was then killed, the blood shed in a bamboo, and each man dipping his finger in the blood, touched his forehead and breast, in attestation of his fidelity. The fowl was now carried away to be cooked: and when brought back, placed with the rest of the feast, and the dancing commenced. The chief, coming forward, uttered a loud yell ending in 'ish,' which was oftentimes repeated during the dance. He raised his hands to his forehead, and taking a dish, commenced dancing to lively music. Three other old chief men followed his example; each uttering the yell and making the salute, but without taking the dish. They danced with arms extended, turning the body frequently, taking very small steps, and little more than lifting their feet from the ground. Thus they turned backward and forward, passed in and out of the inner rooms, and frequently repeating the yell, and making the salutation to me. The dish, in the mean time, was changed from one to the other: there was little variety, no gesticulation, no violence; and, though not deficient in native grace, yet the movements were by no means interesting. The dance over, the feast commenced; and everything was carried on with great gravity and propriety. I left them shortly after they began to eat, and retired, very fagged, to my bed, or rather, to my board; for sitting cross-legged for several hours is surely a great infliction. "I may add to this account that, while writing it, the Dyak land-tribes of Siquong, Sibaduh, and Goon, sent their deputies to me. These people are not under any Malay government, and it is now for the first time they have trusted themselves as far as Sarawak. They have an objection to drinking the river-water, and expressed great surprise at the flood-tide. Their confidence is cheering to me, and will, I trust, be advantageous to themselves. Their trade in rice is very considerable: and toward Sambas they exchange eight or ten pasus of rice for one of salt. "Our conference was pleasing. They desired protection, they desired trade. 'They had all heard, _the whole world had heard_, that _a son of Europe_ was a friend to the Dyaks.' My visitors drank Batavia arrack with great gusto, declaring all the time it was not half so good as their own; however, at a pinch anything will do. Some other Dyaks met these strangers; they were not adversaries, and so they chewed sirih, and drank grog in company; but among enemies this may not be: they can neither eat nor drink in company without desiring a reconciliation. I may add, that the Siquong tribe consists of at least four hundred families, with forty public halls, or baleis, for heads. A Dyak family cannot be estimated at fewer than twelve people, which will give four thousand eight hundred or five thousand people. Sibaduh and Goon may be about seventy-five families: beside these, Si Panjong and Sam Penex want to come in to me, which will give one hundred and one more families. What might be done with these people, if I had a little more power and a little assistance! "I was going to close my account of the Dyaks; but I had scarcely penned the last sentence when a large party of Singè Dyaks and five Dyaks of Sigo arrived--thus all these enemies meeting. In the conference which followed, the Singè allowed they were wrong in attacking Sigo, and laid all the blame on the old chief, Parembam. They likewise allowed it to be just that Parembam should be forced to pay, and conclude a peace. With the Goon and Sibaduh Dyaks they had long been at enmity; but they agreed to make peace if Sibaduh would pay two gongs, formerly demanded, as the price of peace. The Sibaduh, however, did not allow the justice of the demand; but the parties were reconciled so far as that each promised to maintain a truce and to eat together: and the Singès declared they would not attack the Sibaduhs on account of the two gongs, but obtain them in a friendly conference. I have (being hurried) briefly mentioned these circumstances, which took a long time to settle, as the Dyaks are very fond of speechifying, which they do sitting, without action or vivacity, but with great fluency, and using often highly metaphysical and elegant language. It was a great nuisance having fifty naked savages in the house all night, extended in the hall and the anterooms. They finished a bottle of gin, and then slept; and I could not avoid remarking that their sleep was light, such as temperance, health, and exercise bestow. During many hours I heard but one man snore, while half the number of Europeans would have favored me with a concert sufficient to banish rest. "I shall now briefly mention our _foreign policy_ for the last few months. "For a time we were annoyed with incessant reports of their coming to attack us in force; but, though scarcely believing they would be bold enough, I took precautions, pushed on the completion of our boats, built a fort, and made a fence round the village. These precautions taken, and fifteen boats in the water ready for action, I cared very little, though the news reached me that Byong, the Sarebus chief, had hung a basket on a high tree which was to contain my head. "_Sadong._--Our relations with Seriff Sahib were very unsettled; and by the bullying tone of the people of Singè I thought it probable he might be induced to measure his strength, backed by the Sakarran Dyaks, against us. I have already mentioned his attack upon my Dyaks of Sanpro, and the second dispute about the Suntah Dyaks; in the first of these he came off with impunity; in the second I met him with success, and out-manoeuvered him, and wrested the Dyaks from him. Shortly after the transactions at Suntah, a boat of Sakarran Dyaks came to Sarawak nominally _to trade_, but in reality to tamper with the fidelity of the Datus and others. They proposed to the Tumangong to join Seriff Sahib, stating that they were sent by him to try all the people here. 'They had been ruined here; Seriff Sahib would restore them their property; and if they left Muda Hassim, James Brooke, and the Chinese, they could afterward easily make a prey of the Dyaks and Chinese, with Seriff Sahib's assistance, and get plenty of slaves.' "The plan proposed for the removal was as follows:--Seriff Sahib, with forty Malay boats, and the Sakarrans with one hundred boats, were to request permission from Muda Hassim to attack the Dyak tribe of Siquong, and under this pretence were to come up the river, when the Datus were to join, with their wives and children, and all were to take flight together. The Tumangong told me this as soon as he heard it himself; and, to make sure, I sent Patingi Gapoor to fish their story out of them, which he did most successfully. Being assured of the fact, I called the Dyaks, and, before some dozens of our people and one or two persons from Singè, taxed them with their guilt. They were obliged to confess, and insisted upon it that Seriff Sahib had sent them, &c. Many urged me to put these Dyaks to death; but the reluctance we all have to shedding blood withheld me, and I had no desire to strike at a wren when a foul vulture was at hand. I dismissed the emissaries scot-free, and then both Muda Hassim and myself indited letters to Seriff Sahib, that of Muda Hassim being severe but dignified. Before they were dispatched, an ambassador arrived from Singè with letters both to the rajah and myself, disclaiming warmly all knowledge of the treachery, swearing _the most solemn_ oaths in proof of his truth, and declaring that, so far from having committed so shameful an action, he had never even dreamed of such a thing in his worst dreams, as he hoped that God would save him. Our letters were sent before his ambassador was received, and a second disclaimer, like the first, quickly reached us. Of course it was my policy, whatever my opinion might be, to receive his offers of friendship and to believe all he said; and, therefore, the matter ended, and ended so far well, that Seriff Sahib lowered his former tone; and, certainly, whatever he may desire in his heart, or _dream_ of, he wants to be well with us here, and, I can see, fears us. I am content, because I really wish for peace, and not war; Muda Hassim is content, because he has humbled Seriff Sahib, and acted decisively; and the seriff is content as the fiend in the infernal regions. I leave it to all gentle readers to form their own opinion of his truth or treachery; but I must hint to them my private opinion that he did send agents to tempt, and would have gained the Datus if he could; and as for his oaths, my belief is, he would swear a basketful of the most sacred before breakfast to support a lie, and yet not lose his appetite! The Datus were too old, and knew him too well, to be caught in his trap. "Seriff Sahib has now sent a fleet of boats up the Sarebus river; but the result I do not yet know. "To conclude our foreign policy, I must mention Borneo Proper. "My great object is to reconcile Muda Hassim and the sultan, and to restore the former to Borneo, before the coming of Mr. Bonham on his diplomatic mission. To effect this, I have resolved to proceed myself; and Muda Hassim, equally anxious, has letters and two of his brothers ready to accompany me. If we can gain this object, I shall be firmly established, and relieved from the intriguing, mean, base Borneons. And it will be an advantage to the government measure, in as far as they will be enabled to form their arrangements with all instead of a single faction of the Borneo Pangerans. From all I hear, Muda Hassim is more powerful than either the sultan or Pangeran Usop; and if he appeals to arms, I am assured he will carry his point, and become the sovereign of Borneo virtually, if not nominally. "The Royalist now waits for us at the mouth of the river, which I hope to reach on the 14th, this being the 12th July. Heigh for the sea once more! But yet, though I go, I take my cares with me, and but for the necessity, the absolute necessity, of bringing the Borneo question to a crisis, good or bad, I would fain stop where I am. For even during one short month's absence I fear my poor people will suffer from the intrigues of the rascally Borneo Pangerans. In this I do not include Muda Hassim, who, with a most amiable private character, and with integrity and good faith, desires to do right, as far as his education and prejudices will permit. It is sad to reflect that this very prince, who really wishes to do good, and to conduce to the comfort of his people, should, from want of energy, have been so fearful an oppressor, through the agency of others; and it is not here alone that vile agents for vile purposes are plentiful." CHAPTER XIV. Visit of Captain Elliott.--Mr. Brooke sails for Borneo Proper.--Arrival.--Visited by leading men.--Condition of the country.--Reception by the Sultan.--Objects in view.--The different chiefs, and communications with them.--The Sultan and his Pangerans.--Objects of the visit accomplished.--Return to Sarawak.--Ceremonies of the cession.--Sail for Singapore. After Mr. Brooke's return from his expedition against the Singè Dyak chief Parembam, he was visited by his friend Captain Elliott, of the Madras engineers, whose acquaintance I had the pleasure of subsequently making at Singapore. He is, as Mr. Brooke describes him, "a man of science and education, and the best of good fellows." During his stay at Sarawak, he established his observatory, and all its apparatus; and a shed (now converted into a goat-house) will always retain the appellation of "the Observatory." Mr. Brooke and Captain Elliott appear to have made some very amusing and agreeable excursions up the different rivers, an account of which is given in the journal; but I shall pass it over, as I am anxious to follow my friend through with his government up to the time of my meeting him at Singapore. "_Thursday, July 14th._--We were to have started on this most lucky day at ten o'clock, but what with innumerable preparations and delays, it was near six before the rajah was ready to dismiss the procession; and my alarm became considerable that, Friday (an unlucky day) having commenced by the native reckoning, we should again be postponed till Sunday. However, by making six o'clock five, and keeping back the watches to suit our purpose, our departure was achieved. The state spears and swords were brought forth. The letters for the sultan, in their brass tray covered with embroidered cloth, were duly mounted, with the greatest reverence, on the head of Bandar Sumsu; and nothing remained but to take leave. The rajah addressed a few words to his brothers, requesting them to tell the sultan that his heart was always with him; that he could never separate from him, whether far or near; and that he was, and always had been, true to his son. Budrudeen then rose, and approaching the rajah, seated himself close to him, bending his head to the ground over his hand, which he had grasped. The rajah hastily withdrew his hand, and clasping him round, embraced, kissing his neck. Both were greatly agitated and both wept, and I could have wept for company, for it was no display of state ceremony, but genuine feeling. It is seldom, very seldom, they show their feelings; and the effect was the more touching from being unexpected; beside, it is a part of our nature (one's better nature) to feel when we see others feel. Pangeran Marsale followed; both brothers likewise parted with Muda Mahammed in the same way, and they certainly rose in my opinion from this token of affection toward each other. My adieus followed; we all rose; the rajah accompanied us to the wharf; and as we embarked, I could see the tears slowly steal from his eyes. I could not help taking his hand, and bidding him be of good cheer; he smiled in a friendly manner, pressed my hand, and I stepped into my boat. Our gongs struck up; the barge, decorated with flags and streamers, was towed slowly along against the flood-tide; the guns fired from the wharf, from the Chinese houses, and from our fort, and we passed along in all the pomp and pride of _Sarawak state_. It was dusk when we got down to the first reach, and there we brought up to wait for the ebb." I shall omit that part of my friend's journal containing his remarks and observations along the coast between Sarawak and the entrance of the Borneo river. On the 21st July his narration continues thus: "I must now leave geography, and turn to politics. On casting anchor we acted on a plan previously formed, and sent off the gig, with Seriff Hussein and Nakoda Ahmed, to the city, to intimate my arrival, and that of the rajah's brothers, with letters from Muda Hassim. I trusted to their dread of and curiosity about the English expedition to insure my reception; but I gave particular directions, in case the sultan asked about me, that my ambassadors were to say I was here; that I had been corresponding about the English coming; that I was not a man in authority, or belonging to the East India Company; and that they were sure I should not land unless he invited me to come and see him. To show eagerness would have raised suspicion; backwardness excites the contrary feeling, and a desire to entertain some intercourse. "_July 22d._--At the unconscionable hour of 2 A.M., a mob of Pangerans came on board, in number not fewer than fifty, and with a multitude of followers. They awoke us out of our first sleep, and crowded the vessel above and below, so that we could scarce find room to make our toilet in public, while the heat was suffocating us. However, we did manage it, and sat talking till daylight. Our visitors were chiefly relations or adherents of Muda Hassim, and some of the first men in the country. Pangeran Budrudeen and Pangeran Marsale were in their glory, and happy; and it was evident at once that our affairs were likely to succeed to our heart's content. All were anxious and eager in inquiries about Muda Hassim, and wishing his return. The sultan, Pangeran Usop, Pangeran Mumin, and others declared, 'Borneo could never be well till he came back.' In short, it was clear that the country was in distress and difficulty from within: trade ruined, piracy abounding, the mouth of the river unsafe, their forts insulted by the pirates, the communication with their dependencies cut off, food dear, and the tobacco, which comes from the northward, not to be had. Everything conspires to forward Muda Hassim's views and mine; and during this conversation, it was evident they were looking to me as a friend. "At daylight a boat from the sultan arrived to carry up the letters; but Budrudeen and his brother resolved to proceed first, in order to make sure of an honorable reception for the chop. At 7 o'clock there was a stir. I saw them over the side with delight, and gave them a salute with pleasure. Breakfast done, I was too happy to lie down, and slept till past midday, having then only to wait for Budrudeen's return. "_23d._--Budrudeen came at 3 P.M., bringing with him good news of the most favorable reception from all parties, all wishing for reconciliation and the return of Muda Hassim. To-morrow, boats are to come for the letters, which are to be conveyed in state. The day following I am to go up, and am likewise to be received in all honorable form. "_24th._--At 7 A.M. the state-boat, a shabby concern, decorated with yellow flags, arrived, and at eight the letters were borne away under a salute. Thus we had a second time the satisfaction of getting rid of the mob at an early hour. "_25th._--At 9 1/2 A.M. I started with Williamson in the gig, with the long-boat in company, carrying the presents. On approaching the town, before the ebb had run long, it appeared to be a very Venice of hovels, a river Cybele rising from the water. For those who like it, the locality is not ill chosen. The hills recede from the river, and form an amphitheatre; and several other rivers or streams flowing in, cause a muddy deposit, on which the houses are built. At high water they are surrounded; at low water stand on a sheet of mud. On nearing it, we were encompassed by boats which preceded and followed us, and we passed the floating market, where women, wearing immense hats of palm-leaves, sell all sorts of edibles, balanced in their little canoes, now giving a paddle, now making a bargain, and dropping down with the tide, and again regaining their place when the bargain is finished. The first impression of the town is miserable. The houses are crowded and numerous, and even the palace does not present a more captivating aspect, for, though large, it is as incommodious as the worst. Our presentation was exactly similar to that of our first meeting with Muda Hassim at Sarawak, only the crowd was much greater. We had been seated but a few minutes when Pangeran Usop arrived, and directly afterward the sultan. He gave us tea, leaf-cigars, and sirih, and, in short, showed us every attention; and what was best of all did not keep us very long. Our apartment was partitioned off from the public hall, a dark-looking place, but furnished with a table brought by us, and three rickety chairs, beside matresses and plenty of mats. We were kept up nearly all night, which, after the fatigues of the day, was hard upon us. "Further observation confirmed us in the opinion that the town itself is miserable, and its locality on the mud fitted only for frogs or natives; but there is a level dry plain above the entrance of the Kiangi river, admirably suited for a European settlement; and across the Kiangi is swelling ground, where the residents might find delightful spots for their country-houses. The greatest annoyance to a stranger is the noisome smell of the mud when uncovered; and all plated or silver articles, even in the course of one night, get black and discolored. The inhabitants I shall estimate moderately at 10,000, and the Kadien population are numerous amid the hills. "_27th._--Our objects in coming to Borneo were threefold. Firstly, to effect a reconciliation between the sultan and Muda Hassim; secondly, to gain the sultan's approval and signature to my holding Sarawak; and thirdly, to release the Kleeses [Hindoostanees] of the shipwrecked vessels, the Sultana and Lord Melbourne. The first object was gained at once, as the sultan seemed really overjoyed at being good friends with his uncle; and Pangeran Usop, from whom we anticipated difficulty, stepped forward directly to aid us while Pangeran Mumin was not averse. I will not now stop to sketch the characters of these worthies, as I shall hereafter have a better knowledge of them; but I may remark, _en passant_, that it was evident, even to my inexperience, that no two of them were on good terms, and all probably united in a feeling that Muda Hassim's return would be a personal as well as public advantage. The other principal Pangerans, namely, Tizudeen (the sultan's natural brother), Kurmaindar (the father of the country), Bahar (the rajah's brother-in-law), Tizudeen second (the rajah's natural brother), were all for Muda Hassim; and the population, as far as I could learn, decidedly desirous of his being restored to them. "Each day I had several interviews with the sultan, in his surow or private room; and he assured me of his fondness for Muda Hassim, his wish to have him near him again, and the great benefit it would be. Moreover, he was pleased to express great personal regard for me; and every five minutes I had to swear 'eternal friendship,' while he, clasping my hand, kept repeating, 'amigo _suya_,' 'amigo _suya_,' meaning, _my_ friend, _my_ friend. At the same time he professed great readiness to give me Sarawak--inquired the amount of revenue--seemed satisfied, and said, 'I wish you to be there; I do not wish any body else; you are my amigo, and it is nobody's business but mine; the country is mine, and if I please to give you all, I can.' His majesty is very proud of displaying his very small smattering of Spanish or Portuguese; and almost all the higher people having acquired a few words, shows there must have been a communication at no very distant date. I was also warned not to care for any of the other Pangerans,--not, indeed, to have anything to say to them. "With this advice I took the liberty to dispense; and sent to Pangerans Mumin and Usop to intimate my wish to visit them. The former pleaded that his house was unfit to receive me; but the latter immediately sent a most polite message, that any time, either by day or night, he should be happy to see me; and accordingly I went. The house _and style_ are the best in Borneo. I was politely and kindly greeted; and I soon found that I was with a man of sense and quickness. There was a little diplomacy at first on his part; but as I proceeded direct to my object, he at once laid it aside. In fact, candor is the basis of our right influence with the natives; and as I desired to make Pangeran Usop my friend, I went candidly to work, and immediately told him all that I had already told the sultan. The amount of my conversation was as follows: The first topic being the anticipated visit of the English, 'Were the English coming?' 'Was Mr. Bonham coming?' were the first questions; and 'With what intent?' I replied, that the English were certainly coming, but with no evil intentions; that it was true they were offended by the ill usage the captain and people of the Sultana had met with; yet that I had endeavored to put it in the best light, and had urged that a friendly communication for the future was better than a retrospect which might give rise to unpleasant feelings: I was sure that the English desired a friendly intercourse; and I hoped, though I could not say, that they would look to the future, and not to the past. I had, I added, no authority; but my friendship for the sultan induced me to inform him what I had heard abroad. When Mr. Bonham came, he would be able to tell them all; but I could say now that I thought he would demand a treaty between Singapore and Borneo for the mutual protection of trade, and the care of individuals of each nation who were shipwrecked or otherwise sought protection at either place. "On the whole, it is certain that the feelings of Borneo are decidedly friendly, and equally certain that the persons of influence will receive us in their warmest manner, and grant us every thing, if we resort only to measures of conciliation. It never can be too often repeated, that conciliation is the only policy with Malays, and particularly the Borneons, who have very vague and confused ideas of our power. A harsh truth, a peremptory demand, they have never heard in their lives, and they will not hear it for the first time and remain friendly; for all who have the least acquaintance with the native character know their acute sense of false shame. To demand, therefore, of the chief here to acknowledge our superiority would, I am sure, be met with a haughty refusal. In a few years, if we proceed mildly to establish a beneficial influence, they will fall into our views without reserve; for, as I have often before stated, their government is in the last stage of destruction and decay. "The reconciliation of Muda Hassim was soon complete; and as to the Kleeses of the Lord Melbourne, twenty in number, they were at once surrendered to me, with a request that I would forward them to Singapore as quickly as I could. The boat of the Lord Melbourne was likewise given to me. I had some scruples about three Kleeses of the Sultana, who had been sold at Malludu Bay, bought there by an Arab seriff, and brought here. By all their laws and customs they were his slaves, purchased at a distance, and, as I had no right to claim them (supposing even that to be just), and was resolved not to leave them in captivity, I paid a fair price for them at the rate of twenty-five dollars per man. I regret to add, there is one other man not in the place; and one is gone to Tutorga--about a day's journey hence. "_28th._--I may here draw a brief sketch of the principal personages of this most primitive court, beginning with its worthy head, the sultan. "The sultan is a man past fifty years of age, short and puffy in person, with a countenance which expresses very obviously the imbecility of his mind. His right hand is garnished with an extra diminutive thumb, the natural member being crooked and distorted. His mind, indexed by his face, seems to be a chaos of confusion; without acuteness, without dignity, and without good sense. He can neither read nor write; is guided by the last speaker; and his advisers, as might be expected, are of the lower order, and mischievous from their ignorance and their greediness. He is always talking, and generally joking; and the most serious subjects never meet with five minutes' consecutive attention. The favorable side of his character is, that he is good-tempered and good-natured; by no means cruel; and, in a certain way, generous, though rapacious to a high degree. His rapacity, indeed, is carried to such an excess as to astonish a European, and is evinced in a thousand mean ways. The presents I made him were unquestionably handsome; but he was not content without begging from me the share I had reserved for the other Pangerans; and afterward, through Mr. Williamson, solicited more trifles, such as sugar, penknives, and the like. To crown all, he was incessantly asking what was left in the vessel; and when told the truth,--that I was stripped as bare as a tree in winter,--he frequently returned to the charge. In the middle of the night, when our boat came up with some gifts for him, he slipped out his royal person, that he might see what packages there were. I must say, however, that this was not intended for me to know; and, personally, he did not behave very ill toward me, only dunning me occasionally. In regard to the Sarawak revenue, he was eager in his inquiries; and was very ready, on the strength of his thousand dollars, and my generosity, to give me a list of things which amounted to 10,000 dollars in value. I may note one other feature which marks the man. He requested, as the greatest favor,--he urged, with the earnestness of a child,--that I would send back the schooner before the month Ramban (Ramadan of the Turks); remarking, 'What shall I do during the fast without soft sugar and dates?' What effect the exaggerated promises of Mr. de Souza must have had on such a temper, may readily be imagined; and what the evil influence of such a prince on the country, needs not be stated; for, like other fools, he is difficult to guide where the object is right, and facile whenever it promises any immediate advantage. I will only add, that during my intercourse of six days, he has given me the impression that he is not in his right mind; and, at any rate, that flattery and bad counsel have deprived him of the little wit he might probably originally have possessed. "Of Pangeran Mumin, the De Gadong and the sultan's son-in-law, I know little; and he is, in secret, a most determined opposer of mine; but I believe he, as well as most, is desirous of being good friends with the English, and will readily listen to any overtures which promise increase of trade. He seemed to me a shrewd, cunning man, fit for a Nakoda. "Pangeran Usop is a man of middle age, short, active, and intelligent, and, I may add, ambitious. Pangeran Muda Hassim will throw himself into the arms of the English, from his partiality, and from the hope of a better order of things, and the eventual succession to the throne, to which he stands next,--the present sultan having no legitimate children. "Two of my objects were thus achieved at once; and the Kleeses (twenty-three) were, much to their satisfaction, dispatched to the vessel in the Melbourne's gig. My own affair of Sarawak meets with some opposition from Mumin, who is decidedly friendly to Macota. The sultan, however, is steady to me, gabbles daily and hourly of his intentions; and Pangeran Usop likewise pushes on my suit with his influence, at the same time giving me this one piece of good advice, viz. that Muda Hassim must be induced to return to Borneo, for that two persons (Muda Hassim and myself) cannot govern together; and he added, 'If Muda Hassim returns, you will have a fine trade at Sarawak; but while he is there, no native prahus will visit the place.' This is true: I have no fear of ultimate success in my suit; but delay is formidable, and I have already intimated that I propose making my _congé_ on the 2d of August. "_30th._--I have little more to add about Borneo, save my plaint against our dungeon, though the said dungeon be honorably situated behind the throne, and within the royal apartments. Just below the town are several rills of the finest water; and the natives report that they issue from a small but deep lake at a very short distance. Beneath one of these spouts we each evening took a most delicious bath in water as cold as it is limpid. I am no great bustler at any time; but since being here, I have purposely abstained from all manifestation of curiosity, and never desired or requested to see much; it rouses suspicion, and suspicion rouses distrust, and distrust draws the kris. On the contrary, by being backward at first, you become subsequently a sort of domesticated animal, and privileged to use your eyes and limbs. Most Europeans do themselves great injury by searching the mountains and the waters, breaking the rocks, shooting the birds, and gathering the plants. The natives can never believe they would take so much trouble without being well paid by the value of the treasures found, or employed by the East India Company to espy their land, in order that the said company might seize it at their convenience. "_31st._--A conclave of Pangerans, when it was finally resolved to grant the country of Sarawak to me as rajah or governor. "_August 1st, 1842._--An important day in my history, and I hope one which will be marked with a white stone in the annals of Sarawak. The letters to Muda Hassim being finished and signed, the contract giving me the government of Sarawak came under discussion, and was likewise completed by ten at night, signed, sealed, and witnessed. Thus I have gained every object for which I came to Borneo; and to-morrow, God willing, I take my leave. "The miserable state of Borneo I have already mentioned; and it is now a saying of the Balagnini pirates, that 'it is difficult to catch fish, but easy to catch Borneons.' Externally and internally they are equally wretched, and torn by factions; yet, on the whole, I am not inclined to judge harshly of the poorer order of them. They are a good-tempered, very hospitable, and unwarlike people, the victims of their rajahs; the oppressed, but not the oppressors. In this character, however, I do not reckon the Pangerans and their followers. It is from these latter that Europeans take their estimate of the people generally, and consequently truly account them, from that standard, to be a wretched sample of humanity--mean, thievish, arrogant, insolent, and ready for any wickedness. The Pangerans themselves are only a step better: but even here I must make a little allowance; for I believe their crimes arise more from their poverty and impunity than from any inherent viciousness. "_3d._--The Pangerans Budrudeen and Marsale, and a host more, came on board this night, and kept us up as usual. "_4th._--Another mob arrived the middle of last night. I retreated from them, being far from well, and got some sleep. At 2 P.M. the letters came on board; were received with honors; and as soon as we could rid ourselves of our troublesome visitors, we dropped outside Tanjong Sapo, and sailed the following day. "The Kleeses sold at Malludu were brought from Ambun, and reported to the authorities that a European woman was detained there. I made particular inquires of the Borneon Pangerans, and they said they had always understood that such was the case. Unhappy lady, if she be a lady! Is it a compassionate part to release her after many years of captivity? "_14th._--Anchored off the Morotaba, having had nothing but calms, light winds, and squalls. "_15th._--Got part of the way up the river, and at 8 P.M. dropped our anchor; and in about an hour later two boats started for Sarawak. The night was moonlight, with a cold breeze; and, after a pleasant pull, we arrived, and created as much sensation as we could desire. But it was better, and I was gratified with the intelligence that everything had gone on well during our absence. At break of day I went, fagged, to bed. So ended our mission to Borneo. "On the evening of the 18th the sultan's letters were produced in all the state which could possibly be attained. On their arrival they were received and brought up amid large wax torches, and the person who was to read them was stationed on a raised platform; standing below him was the rajah, with a saber in his hand; in front of the rajah was his brother, Pangeran Jaffer, with a tremendous kempilan drawn; and around were the other brothers and myself, all standing--the rest of the company being seated. The letters were then read, the last one appointing me to hold the government of Sarawak. After this the rajah descended, and said aloud, 'If any one present disowns or contests the sultan's appointment, let him now declare.' All were silent. He next turned to the Patingis, and asked them; they were obedient to the will of the sultan. Then came the other Pangerans--'Is there any Pangeran or any young rajah that contests the question? Pangeran Der Macota, what do you say?' Macota expressed his willingness to obey. One or two other obnoxious Pangerans who had always opposed themselves to me were each in turn challenged, and forced to promise obedience. The rajah then waved his sword, and with a loud voice exclaimed, 'Whoever he is that disobeys the sultan's mandate now received, I will separate his skull;' at the moment some ten of his brothers jumped from the verandah, and, drawing their long krisses, began to flourish and dance about, thrusting close to Macota, striking the pillar above his head, pointing their weapons at his breast. This _amusement_, the violence of motion, the freedom from restraint, this explosion of a long pent-up animosity, roused all their passions; and had Macota, through an excess of fear or an excess of bravery, started up, he would have been slain, and other blood would have been spilt. But he was quiet, with his face pale and subdued, and, as shortly as decency would permit after the riot had subsided, took his leave. This scene is a custom with them; the only exception to which was, that it was pointed so directly at Macota. I was glad, at any rate, that all had gone off without bloodshed. "_22d._--I found that though matters had been quiet during my absence, repeated efforts had been made to disturb the country. First, it was positively stated and industriously circulated that I was certain to be killed in Borneo; and next a report was propagated that 6000 Chinese were on their march from Sambas, with evil intentions. These rumors did not serve any object, and my return has set them at rest; but I regretted to hear that the Singè Dyaks had, contrary to my positive prohibition, killed a Dyak of Sanpro. "Other affairs are prosperous. Macota is to be sent out of the country, and the rajah himself talks of returning to Borneo; and both these events will please me greatly. "_January 1st, 1843._--Another year passed and gone; a year, with all its anxieties, its troubles, its dangers, upon which I can look back with satisfaction--a year in which I have been usefully employed in doing good to others. "Since I last wrote, the Dyaks have been quiet, settled, and improving; the Chinese advancing toward prosperity; and the Sarawak people, wonderfully contented and industrious, relieved from oppression, and fields of labor allowed them. "Justice I have executed with an unflinching hand; and the amount of crime is certainly small--the petty swindling very great. "The month of January was a dreary month. A sick man in the house, and very little medicine; and what was worse, the Royalist did not make her appearance. Yet both these troubles disappeared nearly together; for M'Kenzie got well, and the schooner, bringing with her Dr. Treacher, arrived. She had been detained undergoing some necessary repairs. The accession of a medical man is particularly valuable. "I have nothing to say about the country, except that I have given Pangeran Macota orders to leave, which he is obeying in as far as preparing his boat; and I hope that in six weeks we shall be rid of his cunning and diabolically intriguing presence. "The Rajah Muda Hassim, his brothers, and the tag-rag following, I also hope soon to be rid of; for although they behave far better than they did at first, it is an evil to have wheel within wheel; and these young rajahs of course expect, and are accustomed to, a license which I will not allow. "Budrudeen is an exception--a striking and wonderful instance of the force of good sense over evil education. "The rest of the people go on well; the time revolves quietly; and the Dyaks, as well as the Malays and Chinese, enjoy the inestimable blessing of peace and security. At intervals a cloud threatens the serenity of our political atmosphere; but it speedily blows over. However, all is well and safe; and so safe that I have resolved to proceed in person to Singapore. "My motives for going are various; but I hope to do good, to excite interest, and make friends; and I can find no season like the present for my absence. It is now two years since I left Singapore, 'the boundary of civilization.' I have been out of the civilized world, living in a demi-civilized state, peaceably, innocently, and usefully. "_Feb. 8th._--After ten days' delay at the mouth of the river, got out." CHAPTER XV. Captain Keppel's voyage in the Dido with Mr. Brooke to Sarawak.--Chase of three piratical prahus.--Boat expedition.--Action with the pirates, and capture of a prahu.--Arrival at Sarawak.--Mr. Brooke's reception.--Captain Keppel and his officers visit the Rajah.--The palace and the audience.--Return royal visit to the Dido.--Mr. Brooke's residence and household.--Dr. Treacher's adventure with one of the ladies of Macota's harem.--Another boat affair with the pirates, and death of their chief. I have now followed Mr. Brooke's journal up to the time of our first meeting at Singapore, and his accompanying me to Sarawak, and have no remarks of my own to offer that could add in the slightest degree to its interest; happily, none such are needed. I had not yet seen my friend's journal when I arrived at Sarawak, nor was it until some time after that I by degrees learned the progress of his infant government from its commencement. It was with unfeigned pleasure I then found that, while performing my duty in the suppression of piracy, I was, at the same time, rendering the greatest assistance and support to an individual in his praiseworthy, novel, and important position. I had long felt a desire to explore the Island of Borneo, which the few travelers who have called there describe as not only one of the largest and most fertile in the world, but one of the most productive in gold and diamonds, and other rich minerals and ores; one from which the finest camphor known is brought into merchandise, and which is undoubtedly capable of supplying every kind of valuable spice, and articles of universal traffic and consumption. Yet, with all these capabilities and inducements to tempt the energetic spirit of trade, the internal condition of the country, and the dangers which beset its coasts, have hitherto prevented the interior from being explored by Europeans; and to prove how little we are acquainted even with its shores, I actually sailed by the best Admiralty chart eighty miles inland, and over the tops of mountains! _May 4th, 1843._--Passed through the Tambelans, a beautiful group of between 100 and 150 small islands. They are very extensive, and but thinly inhabited. There is good anchorage near some of them; but we had nothing less than twenty fathoms. They are placed so close together that, after passing the first, we were to all appearance completely land-locked in a magnificent and capacious harbor. The following morning we anchored off the mouth of the Sambas river, and sent the boats away to examine the creeks, islands, and rivers along the coast for traces of pirates--which were discovered by the remains of their fires on different parts, although no clew could be obtained as to the direction in which they had gone. On the morning of the 8th I again sent the pinnace and two cutters, Mr. Partridge, Messrs. D'Aeth and Jenkins, with a week's provisions, the whole under the command of Lieutenant Wilmot Horton, Mr. Brooke kindly offering his assistance, which, from his knowledge of the Malay language, as well as of the kind of vessels used by the pirates, was thankfully accepted. I directed them to proceed to the Island of Marundum, and, after visiting the South Natunas, to rejoin the Dido at Sarawak. In the mean time I proceeded leisurely along the coast, anchoring where convenient, and finding regular soundings all the way in from four to ten fathoms: weather remarkably fine, and water smooth. On the morning of the 9th, on rounding Tanjong Datu, we opened suddenly on a suspicious-looking boat, which, on making us out, ran for a small, deep bay formed by Cape Datu and the next point to the eastward. Standing a little further on, we discovered a second large boat in the offing, which likewise stood in shore, and afterward a third at the bottom of the bay. From the description I had received, I easily made these out to be Illanuns, an enterprising tribe of pirates, of whose daring adventures I had heard much. They inhabit a small cluster of islands off the N.E. coast of Borneo, and go out in large fleets every year to look for prahus bound to Singapore or the Straits; and, after capturing the vessels, reduce their crews to slavery. It is of a cruel nature; for Mr. Brooke observes: "Nor is the slavery of that mild description which is often attributed to the Asiatics; for these victims are bound for months, and crowded in the bottom of the pirate vessels, where they suffer all the miseries which could be inflicted on board an African slaver."--Having fairly pinned these worthies into a corner, and knowing that the only two small boats I had left on board would stand no chance with them in pulling, to make sure of my prizes I loaded the two foremost guns on each side, and, having no proper chart of the coast, proceeded under easy sail, feeling my way into the bay with the lead. When just within musket-range, I let go the anchor, which was no sooner done than the three boats commenced making a move. I thought at first they were coming alongside to sue for pardon and peace; and my astonishment was great when I discovered that nothing was further from their intention. One pulled away, close in shore, to the eastward, and the other two to the westward. They were rowed by about forty oars each, and appeared, from their swiftness, to be flying, and that, too, from under my very nose; and what rendered it still more ridiculous and disagreeable, owing to a strong ebb tide, the ship remained exactly in a position that no gun could be brought to bear on either side. The dingy and jolly-boat gave chase; but the pirates had the start, and it was useless; for although a few men were seen to drop from their oars in consequence of our fire of musketry from the forecastle, still their pace never slackened; and when they did come within the bearing of our guns, which they were obliged to do for a minute or two while rounding the points that formed the bay, though our thirty-two pound shot fell thickly about their heads, frequently dashing the spray all over them, not a man flinched from his oar. We could not help admiring their plan of escape, and the gallant manner in which it was effected. I saw that it would be quite unavailing to attempt to catch the boats that had pulled to windward; but we lost no time in slipping our cable and making all sail in chase of the one that had gone to leeward. But the "artful dodger" was still too fast for us: we lost sight of him at dusk, close off the mouth of a river, up which, however, I do not think he went; for our two boats were there very shortly after him; and although they searched all night and next morning, they could discover no traces of the fugitive. Besides, these pirates have no friends among the inhabitants of the province of Sarawak who would have screened them from us; on the contrary, they would have put them to death if once in their power. I certainly never made so sure of any thing in my life as of capturing the three prahus after I had seen them safe at the bottom of the little bay at Tanjong Datu: but "there is many a slip between the cup and the lip." We returned the following day to pick up the anchor and cable, and observed that it was a place well adapted as a rendezvous for pirates. The bay is studded with rocks; and, to my horror, I found that I had run her majesty's ship Dido inside two that were a-wash at low water! A mountain stream of most delicious water runs into the bay between two rocks, and the coast abounds with oysters. On the 13th the Dido anchored off Tanjong Poe, outside the bar at the entrance of the river leading to Mr. Brooke's residence and seat of government, at the town of Sarawak, situated about twenty-four miles up. At half-tide on the following morning we crossed the bar, carrying no less than three and a half fathoms, and entered the beautiful river of Morotaba, which we ran up for the first fifteen miles under all sail, with a fresh, leading breeze. The Dido was the first square-rigged vessel that had ever entered those waters. We came to at the junction river which unites the two principal entrances to the Sarawak. In the evening our boats returned on board from their expedition, having reached Sarawak the day previous by the western entrance. On leaving the Dido, on the morning of the 8th, they proceeded to the Island of Marundum, a favorite rendezvous for pirates, where they came on a fleet of the Illanum tribe, who, however, did not give them an opportunity of closing; but, cutting their sampans adrift, made a precipitate flight, opening fire as they ran out on the opposite side of a small bay, in which they had been watering and refitting. This, of course, led to a very exciting chase, with a running fire kept up on both sides; but the distance was too great for the range of the guns on either side; and the pirates, who, in addition to sailing well, were propelled by from forty to sixty oars each, made their escape. It was not until nearly hull-down that they (probably out of bravado) ceased to fire their stern guns. As they went in the direction of the Natunas, our boats steered for those islands, and anchored under the south end of one of them. At daylight next morning, although in three fathoms water, the pinnace, owing to the great rise and fall of tide, grounded on a coral reef, and Lieutenant Horton and Mr. Brooke proceeded in one of the cutters to reconnoiter. As they neared the s.w. point, they were met by six prahus, beating their tom-toms as they advanced, and making every demonstration of fighting. Lieutenant Horton judiciously turned to rejoin the other boats; and the pinnace having, fortunately, just then floated, he formed his little squadron into line abreast, cleared for action, and prepared to meet his formidable-looking antagonists. Mr. Brooke, however, whose eye had been accustomed to the cut and rig of all the boats in these seas, discovered that those advancing were not Illanuns, and fancied there must be some mistake. The Natunas people had been trading with Sarawak, and he was intimately acquainted with a rich and powerful chief who resided on the island; he therefore raised a white flag of truce on his spy-glass, and from the bow of the pinnace hailed, waved, and made all the signs he could to warn them of the danger into which they were running; but a discharge of small arms was the only reply he got. They then detached their three smallest vessels inshore, so as to command a cross-fire, and cut off the retreat of our boats; and the rest advanced, yelling, beating their tom-toms, and blazing away with all the confidence of victory, their shot cutting through the rigging, and splashing in the water all around. It was an anxious moment for the Dido's little party. Not a word was spoken. The only gun of the pinnace was loaded with grape and canister, and kept pointed on the largest prahu. The men waited, with their muskets in hand, for permission to fire; but it was not until within pistol-range that Lieutenant Horton poured into the enemy his well-prepared dose. It instantly brought them to a halt; yet they had the temerity to exchange shots for a few minutes longer, when the largest cried for quarter, and the other five made for the shore, chased by the two cutters, and keeping up a fire to the last. The prize taken possession of by the pinnace proved to be a prahu mounting three brass guns, with a crew of thirty-six men, belonging to the Rajah of Rhio, and which had been dispatched by that chief to collect tribute at and about the Natunas islands. They had on board ten men killed, and eleven (four of them mortally) wounded. They affected the greatest astonishment on discovering that our boats belonged to a British man-of-war, and protested that it was all a mistake; that the island had lately been plundered by the Illanun pirates, for whom they had taken us; that the rising sun was in their eyes, and that they could not make out the colors, &c. Lieutenant Horton, thinking that their story might possibly have some foundation in truth, and taking into consideration the severe lesson they had received, directed Dr. Simpson, the assistant-surgeon, to dress their wounds; and after admonishing them to be more circumspect in future, restored them their boat, as well as the others which belonged to the island, two of them being a trifle smaller, but of the same armament as the one from Rhio, and the remaining three still smaller, carrying twelve men each, armed with spears and muskets. These had been taken possession of by the cutters after they had reached the shore and landed their killed and wounded, who were borne away from the beach so smartly by the natives that our people had not time to ascertain the number hurt. The surgeon went ashore, and dressed the wounds of several of them, an act of kindness and civilization far beyond their comprehension. The natives, however, appeared to bear us no malice for the injury we had inflicted on their countrymen, but loaded our boats with fruit, goats, and every thing we required. It afforded some amusement to find that among the slightly wounded was Mr. Brooke's old, wealthy, and respectable friend already alluded to, who was not a little ashamed at being recognized; but piracy is so inherent in a Malay, that few can resist the temptation when a good opportunity for plunder presents itself. The fact, which I afterward ascertained, was, that they took our boats for some coming from a wreck with whatever valuables they could collect; and their not having seen any thing of the ship rather strengthened this conjecture; the excuse they made for continuing the fight after they had discovered their mistake being that they expected no quarter. [15] _May 16th._--We proceeded up the river twelve miles further into the interior of this interesting country, and with my friend Mr. Brooke on board, approached Sarawak, his seat of government; in the reach before you near which, and off the right bank of the river, is a long and dangerous shelf of rocks. The deep channel which lies between the bank and the rocks is not more than sixty or seventy feet wide, and required some little care in passing; but, with the exception of the flying jibboom, which got nipped off in the branch of a magnificent overhanging tree, we anchored without accident in six fathoms water, and greatly astonished the natives with a royal salute in honor of Muda Hassim, the Rajah of Borneo. During the whole morning large boats, some carrying as many as two hundred people, had been coming down the river to hail Mr. Brooke's return; and one of the greatest gratifications I had was in witnessing the undisguised delight, mingled with gratitude and respect, with which each head man welcomed their newly-elected ruler back to his adopted country. Although many of the Malay chiefs had every reason to expect that in the Dido they saw the means by which their misdeeds were to be punished, they showed their confidence in Mr. Brooke by bringing their children with them--a sign peculiar to the Malay. The scene was both novel and exciting; presenting to us, just anchored in a large fresh-water river, and surrounded by a densely-wooded jungle, the whole surface of the water covered with canoes and boats dressed out with their various-colored silken flags, filled with natives beating their tom-toms, and playing on their wild and not unpleasant-sounding wind-instruments, with the occasional discharge of firearms. To them it must have been equally striking and extraordinary (as few of them had ever seen any larger vessel than their own war-boats, or a European, until Mr. Brooke's arrival) to witness the Dido anchored almost in the center of their town, her mast-heads towering above the highest trees of their jungle; the loud report of her heavy two-and-thirty pounder guns, and the running aloft, to furl sails, of 150 seamen, in their clean white dresses, and with the band playing, all which helped to make an impression that will not easily be forgotten at Sarawak. I was anxious that Mr. Brooke should land with all the honors due to so important a personage, which he accordingly did, under a salute. The next business was my visit of ceremony to the rajah, which was great fun, though conducted in the most imposing manner. The band, and the marines, as a guard, having landed, we (the officers) all assembled at Mr. Brooke's house, where, having made ourselves as formidable as we could with swords and cocked hats, we marched in procession to the royal residence, his majesty having sent one of his brothers, who led me by the hand into his presence. The palace was a long, low shed, built on piles, to which we ascended by a ladder. The audience-chamber was hung with red and yellow silk curtains, and round the back and one side of the platform occupied by the rajah were ranged his ministers, warriors, and men-at-arms, bearing spears, swords, shields, and other warlike weapons. Opposite to them were drawn up our royal marines, the contrast between the two body-guards being very amusing. Muda Hassim is a wretched-looking, little man; still there was a courteous and gentle manner about him that prepossessed us in his favor, and made us feel that we were before an individual who had been accustomed to command. We took our seats in a semicircle, on chairs provided for the occasion, and smoked cigars and drank tea. His majesty chewed his sirih-leaf and betel-nut, seated with one leg crossed under him, and playing with his toes. Very little is ever said during these audiences, so we sat staring at one another for half an hour with mutual astonishment; and, after the usual compliments of wishing our friendship might last as long as the moon, and my having offered him the Dido and every thing else that did not belong to me in exchange for his house, we took our leave. _May 19th._--This was the day fixed for the rajah's visit to the Dido, about which he appeared very anxious, although he had seldom been known to go beyond his own threshold. For this ceremony all the boats, guns, tom-toms, flags, and population were put in requisition; and the procession to the ship was a very gorgeous and amusing spectacle. We received him on board with a royal salute. He brought in his train a whole tribe of natural brothers. His guards and followers were strange enough, and far too numerous to be admitted on the Dido's deck, so that as soon as a sufficient number had scrambled on board, the sentry had orders to prevent any more from crowding in; but whether, in so doing, the most important personages of the realm were kept out, we did not ascertain. One fellow succeeded in obtaining a footing with a large yellow silk canopy, a corner of which having run into the eye of one of the midshipmen, the bearer missed his footing, and down came the whole concern--as I was informed, by _accident_! The party assembled in my cabin, and the remarks were few, nor did they manifest great astonishment at any thing. In fact, a Malay never allows himself to be taken by surprise. I believe, however, the rajah did not think much of my veracity, when I informed him that this was not the largest ship belonging to her Britannic majesty, and that she had several mounting upward of 100 guns, though he admitted that he had seen a grander sight than any of his ancestors. There was much distress depicted in the royal countenance during his visit which I afterward ascertained was owing to his having been informed that he must not spit in my cabin. On leaving the ship, whether the cherry brandy he had taken made him forget the directions he had received, I do not know, but he squirted a mouthful of red betel-nut juice over the white deck, and then had the temerity to hold out his hand to the first lieutenant, who hastily applied to him the style (not royal) of "a dirty beast," which not understanding, he smiled graciously, taking it as some compliment peculiar to the English. This farce over, I had now some time to look about me, and to refit my ship in one of the prettiest spots on earth, and as unlike a dock-yard as any thing could be. Mr. Brooke's then residence, although equally rude in structure with the abodes of the natives, was not without its English comforts of sofas, chairs, and bedsteads. It was larger than any of the others, but being, like them, built on piles, we had to mount a ladder to get into it. It was situated on the same side of the river (the right bank), next to, but rather in the rear of, the rajah's palace, with a clear space of about 150 yards between the back and the edge of the jungle. It was surrounded by palisades and a ditch, forming a protection to sheep, goats, pigeons, cats, poultry, geese, monkeys, dogs, ducks, and, occasionally, bullocks. The house consisted of but one floor. A large room in the center, neatly ornamented with every description of firearms, in admirable order and ready for use, served as an audience and mess-room; and the various apartments round it as bed-rooms, most of them comfortably furnished with matted floors, easy chairs, pictures, and books, with much more taste and attention to comfort than bachelors usually display. In one corner of the square formed by the palisades were the kitchen and offices. The Europeans with Mr. Brooke consisted of Mr. Douglas, formerly in the navy, a clever young surgeon, and a gentleman of the name of Williamson, who, being master of the native language, as well as active and intelligent, made an excellent prime minister. Besides these were two others, who came out in the yacht, one an old man-of-war's man, who kept the arms in first-rate condition, and another worthy character, who answered to the name of Charley, and took care of the accounts and charge of every thing. These were attended by servants of different nations. The cooking establishment was perfect, and the utmost harmony prevailed. The great feeding-time was at sunset, when Mr. Brooke took his seat at the head of the table, and all the establishment, as in days of yore, seated themselves according to their respective grades. This hospitable board was open to all the officers of the Dido; and many a jovial evening we spent there. All Mr. Brooke's party were characters--all had traveled; and never did a minute flag for want of some entertaining anecdote, good story, or song, to pass away the time; and it was while smoking our cigars in the evening that the natives, as well as the Chinese who had become settlers, used to drop in, and, after creeping up according to their custom, and touching the hand of their European rajah, retire to the further end of the room, and squat down upon their haunches, remain a couple of hours without uttering a word, and then creep out again. I have seen sixty or seventy of an evening come in and make this sort of salaam. All the Malays were armed; and it is reckoned an insult for one of them to appear before a rajah without his kris. I could not help remarking the manly, independent bearing of the half-savage and nearly naked mountain Dyak compared with the sneaking deportment of the Malay. The following little adventure was told me during my stay at Sarawak, by Dr. Treacher, who had lately joined Mr. Brooke, his former medical attendant having returned to England. It appears that Dr. Treacher received a message by a confidential slave that one of the ladies of Macota's harem desired an interview, appointing a secluded spot in the jungle as the rendezvous. The doctor, being aware of his own good looks, fancied he had made a conquest, and, having got himself up as showily as he could, was there at the appointed time. He described the poor girl as both young and pretty, but with a dignified and determined look, which at once convinced him that she was moved to take so dangerous a step by some deeper feeling than that of a mere fancy for his person. She complained of the ill treatment she had received from Macota, and the miserable life she led, and avowed that her firm resolve was to destroy (not herself, gentle creature! but) him; for which purpose she wanted a small portion of arsenic. It was a disappointment that he could not comply with her request; so they parted--he full of pity and love for her, and she, in all probability, full of contempt for a man who felt for her wrongs, but would not aid in the very simple means she had proposed for redressing them. While at Singapore, Mr. Whitehead had kindly offered to allow his yacht, the Emily, a schooner of about fifty tons, with a native crew, to bring our letters to Borneo, on the arrival at Singapore of the mail from England. About the time she was expected, I thought it advisable to send a boat to cruise in the vicinity of Cape Datu, in case of her falling in with any of these piratical gentry. The Dido's largest boat, the pinnace, being under repair, Mr. Brooke lent a large boat which he had had built by the natives at Sarawak, and called the Jolly Bachelor. Having fitted her with a brass six-pounder long gun, with a volunteer crew of a mate, two midshipmen, six marines, and twelve seamen, and a fortnight's provisions, I dispatched her under the command of the second lieutenant, Mr. Hunt; Mr. Douglas, speaking the Malayan language, likewise volunteered his services. One evening, after they had been about six days absent, while we were at dinner, young Douglas made his appearance, bearing in his arms the captured colors of an Illanun pirate. It appears that the day after they had got outside they observed three boats a long way in the offing, to which they gave chase, but soon lost sight of them, owing to their superior sailing. They, however, appeared a second and a third time, after dark, but without the Jolly Bachelor being able to get near them; and it now being late, and the crew both fatigued and hungry, they pulled inshore, lighted a fire, cooked their provisions, and then hauled the boat out to her grapnel, near some rocks, for the night; lying down to rest with their arms by their sides, and muskets round the mast, ready loaded. Having also placed sentries and look-out men, and appointed an officer of the watch, they one and all (sentries included, I suppose), owing to the fatigues of the day, fell asleep! At about three o'clock the following morning, the moon being just about to rise, Lieut. Hunt happening to be awake, observed a savage brandishing a kris, and performing his war-dance on the bit of deck, in an ecstasy of delight, thinking, in all probability, of the ease with which he had got possession of a fine trading-boat, and calculating the cargo of slaves he had to sell, but little dreaming of the hornets' nest into which he had fallen. Lieut. Hunt's round face meeting the light of the rising moon, without a turban surmounting it, was the first notice the pirate had of his mistake. He immediately plunged overboard; and before Lieut. Hunt had sufficiently recovered his astonishment to know whether he was dreaming or not, or to rouse his crew up, a discharge from three or four cannon within a few yards, and the cutting through the rigging by the various missiles with which the guns were loaded, soon convinced him there was no mistake. It was as well the men were still lying down when this discharge took place, as not one of them was hurt; but on jumping to their legs, they found themselves closely pressed by two large war-prahus, one on each bow. To return the fire, cut the cable, man the oars, and back astern to gain room, was the work of a minute; but now came the tug of war; it was a case of life and death. Our men fought as British sailors ought to do; quarter was not expected on either side; and the quick and deadly aim of the marines prevented the pirates from reloading their guns. The Illanun prahus are built with strong bulwarks or barricades, grape-shot proof, across the fore part of the boat, through which ports are formed for working the guns; these bulwarks had to be cut away by round shot from the Jolly Bachelor before the musketry could bear effectually. This done, the grape and canister told with fearful execution. In the mean time, the prahus had been pressing forward to board, while the Jolly Bachelor backed astern; but, as soon as this service was achieved, our men dropped their oars, and, seizing their muskets, dashed on: the work was sharp, but short, and the slaughter great. While one pirate boat was sinking, and an effort made to secure her, the other effected her escape by rounding the point of rocks, where a third and larger prahu, hitherto unseen, came to her assistance, and putting fresh hands on board, and taking her in tow, succeeded in getting off, although chased by the Jolly Bachelor, after setting fire to the crippled prize, which blew up and sunk before the conquerors got back to the scene of action. While there, a man swam off to them from the shore, who proved to be one of the captured slaves, and had made his escape by leaping overboard during the fight. The three prahus were the same Illanun pirates we had so suddenly come upon off Cape Datu in the Dido, and they belonged to the same fleet that Lieut. Horton had chased off the Island of Marundum. The slave prisoner had been seized, with a companion, in a small fishing canoe, off Borneo Proper; his companion suffered in the general slaughter. The sight that presented itself on our people boarding the captured boat must indeed have been a frightful one. None of the pirates waited on board for even the chance of receiving either quarter or mercy, but all those capable of moving had thrown themselves into the water. In addition to the killed, some lying across the thwarts, with their oars in their hands, at the bottom of the prahu, in which there was about three feet of blood and water, were seen protruding the mangled remains of eighteen or twenty bodies. During my last expedition I fell in with a slave belonging to a Malay chief, one of our allies, who informed us that he likewise had been a prisoner, and pulled an oar in one of the two prahus that attacked the Jolly Bachelor; that none of the crew of the captured prahu reached the shore alive, with the exception of the lad that swam off to our people; and that there were so few who survived in the second prahu, that, having separated from their consort during the night, the slaves, fifteen in number, rose and put to death the remaining pirates, and then ran the vessel into the first river they reached, which proved to be the Kaleka, where they were seized, and became the property of the governing Datu; and my informant was again sold to my companion, while on a visit to his friend the Datu. Each of the attacking prahus had between fifty and sixty men, including slaves, and the larger one between ninety and a hundred. The result might have been very different to our gallant but dosy Jolly Bachelors. I have already mentioned the slaughter committed by the fire of the pinnace, under Lieutenant Horton, into the largest Malay prahu; and the account given of the scene which presented itself on the deck of the defeated pirate, when taken possession of, affords a striking proof of the character of these fierce rovers; resembling greatly what we read of the Norsemen and Scandinavians of early ages. Among the mortally wounded lay the young commander of the prahu, one of the most noble forms of the human race; his countenance handsome as the hero of Oriental romance, and his whole bearing wonderfully impressive and touching. He was shot in front and through the lungs, and his last moments were rapidly approaching. He endeavored to speak, but the blood gushed from his mouth with the voice he vainly essayed to utter in words. Again and again he tried, but again and again the vital fluid drowned the dying effort. He looked as if he had something of importance which he desired to communicate, and a shade of disappointment and regret passed over his brow when he felt that every essay was unavailing, and that his manly strength and daring spirit were dissolving into the dark night of death. The pitying conquerors raised him gently up, and he was seated in comparative ease, for the welling out of the blood was less distressing; but the end speedily came: he folded his arms heroically across his wounded breast, fixed bis eyes upon the British seamen around, and, casting one last glance at the ocean--the theater of his daring exploits, on which he had so often fought and triumphed--expired without a sigh. The spectators, though not unused to tragical and sanguinary sights, were unanimous in speaking of the death of the pirate chief as the most affecting spectacle they had ever witnessed. A sculptor might have carved him as an Antinous in the mortal agonies of a Dying Gladiator. The leaders of the piratical prahus are sometimes poetically addressed by their followers as _Matari_, i. e., the sun; or _Bulan_, the moon; and from his superiority in every respect, physical and intellectual, the chief whose course was here so fatally closed seemed to be worthy of either celestial name. CHAPTER XVI. The Rajah's letter to Captain Keppel, and his reply.--Prepares for an expedition against the Sarebus pirates.--Pleasure excursion up the river.--The Chinese settlement.--The Singè mountain.--Interior of the residences.--Dyak festival of Maugut.--Relics.--Sporting.--Return to Sarawak.--The expedition against Sarebus.--State and number of the assailing force.--Ascent of the river.--Beauty of the scenery. _May 21st._--I received intimation that the rajah had written a letter, and wished me to appoint a time and place, that it might be presented in due form. Accordingly I attended in Mr. Brooke's hall of audience on the following day, where I found collected all the chiefs, and a crowd of natives, many of them having already been informed that the said letter was a requisition for me to assist in putting down the hordes of pirates who had so long infested the coast. I believe many of those present, especially the Borneons, to have been casually concerned, if not deeply implicated, in some of their transactions. After I had taken my seat with Mr. Brooke at the head of the table, the rajah's sword-bearers entered, clearing the way for the huge yellow canopy, under the shade of which, on a large brass tray, and carefully sewn up in a yellow silk bag, was the letter, from which it was removed, and placed in my hands by the Pangeran Budrudeen. I opened the bag with my knife, and giving it to an interpreter, he read it aloud in the Malayan tongue. It was variously received by the audience, many of whose countenances were far from prepossessing. The following is a copy of the letter, to which was affixed the rajah's seal: "This friendly epistle, having its source in a pure mind, comes from Rajah Muda Hassim, next in succession to the royal throne of the kingdom of Borneo, and who now holds his court at the trading city of Sarawak, to our friend Henry Keppel, head captain of the war-frigate belonging to her Britannic Majesty, renowned throughout all countries--who is valiant and discreet, and endowed with a mild and gentle nature: "This is to inform our friend that there are certain great pirates, of the people of Sarebus and Sakarran, in our neighborhood, seizing goods and murdering people on the high seas. They have more than three hundred war-prahus, and extend their ravages even to Banjarmassim; they are not subject to the government of Bruni (Borneo); they take much plunder from vessels trading between Singapore and the good people of our country. "It would be a great service if our friend would adopt measures to put an end to these piratical outrages. "We can present nothing better to our friend than a kris, such as it is. "20th day of Rahial Akhir, 1257." To which I sent the following reply:-- "Captain Keppel begs to acknowledge the receipt of the Rajah Muda Hassim's letter, representing that the Dyaks of Sarebus and Sakarran are the pirates who infest the coast of Borneo, and do material damage to the trade of Singapore. "Captain Keppel will take speedy measures to suppress these and all other pirates, and feels confident that her Britannic Majesty will be glad to learn that the Rajah Muda Hassim is ready to coöperate in so laudable an undertaking." Not being prepared for the oriental fashion of exchanging presents, I had nothing to offer to his rajahship; but I found out afterward that Mr. Brooke had (unknown to me) sent him a clock in my name. The royal kris was handsome, the handle of carved ivory, with a good deal of gold about it. This information about the pirates gave me good ground to make a beginning; and having arranged with Mr. Brooke to obtain all necessary intelligence relative to their position, strength, and numbers, [16] I determined on attacking them in their strongholds, commencing with the Sarebus, who, from all accounts, were by far the most strongly fortified. Mr. Brooke accepted my invitation to accompany us, as well as to supply a native force of about three hundred men, who, should we succeed in the destruction of the pirate forts, would be useful in the jungle. Mr. Brooke's going to join personally in a war against (in the opinion of the Datus) such formidable opponents as the Sakarran and Sarebus pirates--who had never yet been conquered, although repeatedly attacked by the united forces of the surrounding rajahs--was strongly opposed by the chiefs. On his informing them that he should go, but leaving it optional whether they would accompany him or not, their simple reply was, "What is the use of our remaining? If you die, we die; and if you live, we live; we will go with you." Preparations for the expedition were accordingly commenced. No place could have suited us better for a refit. Within a few yards of the ship was a Chinese workshop. Our boats were hauled up to repair under sheds, and we drew our fresh water alongside; and while the Dido was at Sarawak, Mr. Jago, the carpenter, built a very beautiful thirty-foot gig, having cut the plank up in the Chinaman's sawpit. While these works were in progress, I accompanied Mr. Brooke up the river. The Royalist having been dispatched to Singapore with our letters, we started on our pleasure-excursion. With the officers from the Dido and the chiefs, who always accompany the "Tuan Besar," we mustered about sixty persons; and with our guns, walking-sticks, cigars, and a well supplied commissariat, determined to enjoy ourselves. We were not long in making the acquaintances of the chiefs. Men who had formerly rebelled, who were conquered by Mr. Brooke, and had their (forfeited) lives saved, their families restored to them, and themselves finally reinstated in the offices they had previously held--these men were very naturally and faithfully attached. Our young gentlemen found their Malayan names difficult to remember, so that the gallant old Patingi Ali was seldom called any other name than that of "Three-Fingered Jack," from his having lost part of his right hand; the Tumangong was spoken of as the "Father of Hopeful," from one of his children, a fine little fellow, whom he was foolishly attached to, and seldom seen without. Der Macota, who had sometime before received the appellation of "the Serpent," had, ever since he got his orders to quit, some six months before, been preparing his boats, but which were ready in an incredibly short time after the Dido's arrival; and thus Mr. Brooke got rid of that most intriguing and troublesome rascal; a person who had, from the commencement, been trying to supplant and ruin him. He it was that gave the Sakarran pirates permission to ascend the river for the purpose of attacking the comparatively defenceless mountain Dyaks; and he it was that persecuted the unfortunate young Illanun chief, Si Tundo, even to his assassination. He was at last got rid of from Sarawak, but only to join and plan mischief with that noted piratical chief, Seriff Sahib; he, however, met his deserts. We ascended the river in eight or ten boats. The scene to us was most novel, and particularly fresh and beautiful. We stopped at an empty house on a cleared spot on the left bank during the ebb-tide, to cook our dinner; in the cool of the afternoon we proceeded with the flood; and late in the evening brought up for the night in a snug little creek close to the Chinese settlement. We slept in native boats, which were nicely and comfortably fitted for the purpose. At an early hour Mr. Brooke was waited on by the chief of the Kunsi; and on visiting their settlement he was received with a salute of three guns. We found it kept in their usual neat and clean order, particularly their extensive vegetable gardens; but being rather pressed for time, we did not visit the mines, but proceeded to the villages of different tribes of Dyaks living on the Sarambo mountain, numbers of whom had been down to welcome us, very gorgeously dressed in feathers and scarlet. The foot of the mountain was about four miles from the landing-place; and a number of these kind savages voluntarily shouldered our provisions, beds, bags, and baggage, and we proceeded on our march. We did not expect to find quite a turnpike-road; but, at the same time, I, for one, was not prepared for the dance led us by our wild cat-like guides through thick jungle, and alternately over rocky hills, or up to our middles in the soft marshes we had to cross. Our only means of doing so was by feeling on the surface of the mud (it being covered in most places about a foot deep with grass or discolored water) for light spars thrown along lengthwise and quite unconnected, while our only support was an occasional stake at irregular distances, at which we used to rest, as the spars invariably sunk into the mud if we attempted to stop; and there being a long string of us, many a fall and flounder in the mud (gun and all) was the consequence. The ascent of the hill, although as steep as the side of a house, was strikingly beautiful. Our resting-places, unluckily, were but few; but when we did reach one, the cool, fresh breeze, and the increasing extent and variety of scene--our view embracing, as it did, all the varieties of river, mountain, wood, and sea--amply repaid us for the exertion of the lower walk; and, on either hand, we were sure to have a pure cool rivulet tumbling over the rocks. While going up, however, our whole care and attention were requisite to secure our own safety; for it is not only one continued climb up ladders, but such ladders! They are made of the single trunk of a tree in its rough and rounded state, with notches, not cut at the reasonable distance apart of the ratlins of our rigging, but requiring the knee to be brought up to the level of the chin before the feet are sufficiently parted to reach from one step to another; and that, when the muscles of the thigh begin to ache, and the wind is pumped out of the body, is distressing work. We mounted, in this manner, some 500 feet; and it was up this steep that Mr. Brooke had ascended only a few months before, with two hundred followers, to attack the Singè Dyaks. He has already described the circular halls of these Dyaks, in one of which we were received, hung round, as the interior of it is, with hundreds of human heads, most of them dried with the skin and hair on; and to give them, if possible, a more ghastly appearance, small shells (the cowry) are inserted where the eyes once were, and tufts of dried grass protrude from the ears. But my eyes soon grew accustomed to the sight; and by the time dinner was ready (I think I may say _we_) thought no more about them than if they had been as many cocoa-nuts. Of course the natives crowded round us; and I noticed that with these simple people it was much the same as with the more civilized, and that curiosity was strongest in the gentler sex; and again, that the young men came in more gorgeously dressed, wearing feathers, necklaces, armlets, ear-rings, bracelets, beside jackets of various-colored silks, and other vanities--than the older and wiser chiefs, who encumbered themselves with no more dress than what decency actually required, and were, moreover, treated with the greatest respect. We strolled about from house to house without causing the slightest alarm: in all we were welcomed, and invited to squat ourselves on their mats with the family. The women, who were some of them very good-looking, did not run from us as the plain-headed Malays would have done; but laughed and chatted to us by signs in all the consciousness of innocence and virtue. We were fortunate in visiting these Dyaks during one of their grand festivals (called Maugut); and in the evening, dancing, singing, and drinking were going on in various parts of the village. In one house there was a grand _fête_, in which the women danced with the men. The dress of the women was simple and curious--a light jacket open in front, and a short petticoat not coming below the knees, fitting close, was hung round with jingling bits of brass, which kept "making music" wherever they went. The movement was like all other native dances--graceful, but monotonous. There were four men, two of them bearing human sculls, and two the fresh heads of pigs; the women bore wax-lights, or yellow rice on brass dishes. They danced in line, moving backward and forward, and carrying the heads and dishes in both hands; the graceful part was the manner in which they half turned the body to the right and left, looking over their shoulders and holding the heads in the opposite direction, as if they were in momentary expectation of some one coming up behind to snatch the nasty relic from them. At times the women knelt down in a group, with the men leaning over them. After all, the music was not the only thing wanting to make one imagine oneself at the opera. The necklaces of the women were chiefly of teeth--bears' the most common--human the most prized. In an interior house at one end were collected the relics of the tribe. These consisted of several round-looking stones, two deer's heads, and other inferior trumpery. The stones turn black if the tribe is to be beaten in war, and red if to be victorious; any one touching them would be sure to die; if lost, the tribe would be ruined. The account of the deer's heads is still more curious: A young Dyak having dreamed the previous night that he should become a great warrior, observed two deer swimming across the river, and killed them; a storm came on with thunder and lightning, and darkness came over the face of the earth; he died immediately, but came to life again, and became a rumah guna (literally a _useful house_) and chief of his tribe; the two deer still live, and remain to watch over the affairs of the tribe. These heads have descended from their ancestors from the time when they first became a tribe and inhabited the mountain. Food is always kept placed before them, and renewed from time to time. While in the circular building, which our party named "the scullery," a young chief (Meta) seemed to take great pride in answering our interrogatories respecting different skulls which we took down from their hooks: two belonged to chiefs of a tribe who had made a desperate defence; and judging from the incisions on the heads, each of which must have been mortal, it must have been a desperate affair. Among other trophies was half a head, the skull separated from across between the eyes, in the same manner that you would divide that of a hare or rabbit to get at the brain--this was their division of the head of an old woman, which was taken when another (a friendly) tribe was present, who likewise claimed their half. I afterward saw these tribes share a head. But the skulls, the account of which our informant appeared to dwell on with the greatest delight, were those which were taken while the owners were asleep--cunning with them being the perfection of warfare. We slept in their "scullery;" and my servant Ashford, who happened to be a sleep-walker, that night jumped out of the window, and unluckily on the steep side; and had not the ground been well turned up by the numerous pigs, and softened by rain, he must have been hurt. _May 25th._--Having returned to our boats, we moved up another branch of the river, for the purpose of deer-shooting, and landed under some large shady trees. The sportsmen divided into two small parties, and, under the guidance of the natives, went in search of game, leaving the remainder of the party to prepare dinner against our return. The distance we had to walk to get to our ground was what our guides considered nothing--some five miles through jungle; and one of the most distressing parts in jungle-walking is the having to climb over the fallen trunks of immense trees. A short time before sunset we came to a part of the jungle that opened on to a large swamp, with long rank grass about six feet high, across which was a sort of Dyak bridge. The guide having made signs for me to advance, I cautiously crept to the edge of the jungle; and after some little trouble, and watching the direction of his finger, I observed the heads of two deer, male and female, protruding just above the grass at about sixty yards' distance. From the manner the doe was moving about her long ears, it had, to my view, all the appearance of a rabbit. Shooting for the pot, I selected her. As soon as I fired, some of my boat's crew made a dash into the grass; and in an instant three of them were nearly up to their chins in mud and water, and we had some difficulty in dragging them out: Our Malay guide more knowingly crossed the bridge; and being acquainted with the locality, reached the deer from the opposite side, taking care to utter a prayer and cut the throat with the head in the direction of the Prophet's tomb at Mecca, without which ceremony no true follower of Islam could partake of the meat. The doe was struck just below the ear; and my native companion appeared much astonished at the distance and deadly effect with which my smooth-bored _Westley Richards_ had conveyed the ball. The buck had got off before the smoke had cleared sufficiently for me to see him. From what I had heard, I was disappointed at not seeing more game. The other party had not killed anything, although they caught a little fawn, having frightened away the mother. My time was so occupied during my stay in Borneo, that I am unable to give any account of the sport to be found in the island. Neither had Mr. Brooke seen much of it; unless an excursion or two he had made in search of new specimens of the ourang-outang, or mias, may be brought under that head. This excursion he performed not only with the permission and under the protection, but as the guest, of the piratical chief Seriff Sahib; little thinking that, in four years afterward, he would himself, as a powerful rajah, be the cause of destroying his town, and driving him from the country. So much for sporting. The pleasure, I believe, increases in proportion to the risk. But, while on the subject, I may mention that of pig-shooting, which I found an amusement not to be despised, especially if you approach your game before life is extinct. The jaws are long, tusks also, and sharp as a razor; and when once wounded, the animals evince a strong inclination to return the compliment: they are active, cunning, and very fast. I shot several at different times. The natives also describe a very formidable beast, the size of a large bullock, found farther to the northward, which they appear to hold in great dread. This I conceive to be a sort of bison; and if so, the sporting in Borneo altogether is not so bad. The following day we went to other ground for deer; but the Dyaks had now enjoyed peace so long that the whole country was in a state of cultivation; and after scrambling over tracts of wild-looking country, in which Mr. Brooke, two years before, had seen the deer in hundreds, we returned to our boats, and down the river to Sarawak. We now began to prepare in earnest for work of another sort. The news of our intended attack on the Sarebus pirates had soon reached them, and spread all over the country; and we had daily accounts of the formidable resistance they intended to make. By the 4th July our preparations were complete, and the ship had dropped down to the mouth of the river. I forgot to mention that all the adjoining seriffs had, in the greatest consternation, sent me assurances of their future good intentions. Seriff Jaffer, who lived with an industrious but warlike race of Dyaks up the Linga river, a branch of the Batang Lupar, had never been known to commit piracy, and had been frequently at war with both the Sarebus and Sakarrans, offered to join our expedition. From Seriff Sahib, who lived up a river at Sadong, adjoining the Sarebus territory, and to whom the "Serpent" Macota had gone, Mr. Brooke and myself had invitations to partake of a feast on our way to the Sarebus river. This was accompanied with a present of a couple of handsome spears and a porcupine, and also an offer to give up the women and children he had, with the assistance of the Sakarran pirates, captured from the poor Sow Dyaks up the Sarawak. Farther to the eastward, and up the Batang Lupar, into which the Sakarran runs, lived another powerful seriff by the name of Muller, elder brother and coadjutor of Seriff Sahib. These all, however, through fear at the moment, sent in submissive messages; but their turn had not yet come, and we proceeded toward the Sarebus. The island of Burong, off which the Dido was to remain at anchor, we made the first place of rendezvous. The force from the Dido consisted of her pinnace, two cutters, and a gig; beside which Mr. Brooke lent us his native-built boat, the Jolly Bachelor, carrying a long six-pounder brass gun and thirty of our men; also a large tope of thirty-five tons, which carried a well-supplied commissariat, as well as ammunition. The native force was extensive; but I need only mention the names of those from Sarawak. The three chiefs (the Tumangong and two Patingis, Gapoor and Ali) had two large boats, each carrying about 180 men. Then there was the rajah's large, heavy boat, with the rascally Borneons and about 40 men, and sundry other Sarawak boats; and, beside, a Dyak force of about 400 men from the different tribes of Lundu, Sow, Singè, &c. Of course, it caused some trouble to collect this wild, undisciplined armament, and two or three successive points of rendezvous were necessary; and it was the morning of the 8th before we entered the river. Lieutenant Wilmot Horton was to command the expedition; with him, in the pinnace, were Mr. W. L. Partridge, mate; Dr. Simpson, assistant-surgeon; Mr. Hallowes, midshipman; 14 seamen, and 5 marines. In the first cutter was Mr. D'Aeth, Mr. Douglas, from Sarawak, and Mr. Collins, the boatswain; in the second cutter, Mr. Elliott, the master, and Mr. Jenkins, midshipman. The Jolly Bachelor was commanded by Lieutenant Tottenham, and Mr. Comber, midshipman, with Mr. Brooke's medical friend, Dr. Treacher, and an amateur gentleman, Mr. Ruppel, from Sarawak. The force from the Dido was about 80, officers and men. The command of the boats, when sent away from a man-of-war, is the perquisite of the first lieutenant. My curiosity, however, would not allow me to resist the temptation of attending the party in my gig; and I had my friend Mr. Brooke as a companion, who was likewise attended by a sampan and crew he had taken with him to Sarawak from Singapore. His coxswain, Seboo, we shall all long remember: he was civil only to his master, and, I believe, brave while in his company. He was a stupid-looking and powerfully-built sort of savage, always praying, eating, smiling, or sleeping. When going into action, he always went down on his knees to pray, holding his loaded musket before him. He was, however, a curious character, and afforded us great amusement--took good care of himself and his master, but cared for no one else. In the second gig was Lieutenant E. Gunnell, whose troublesome duty it was to preserve order throughout this extensive musketoe fleet, and to keep the natives from pressing too closely on the rear of our boats--an office which became less troublesome as we approached the scene of danger. The whole formed a novel, picturesque, and exciting scene; and it was curious to contemplate the different feelings that actuated the separate and distinct parties--the odd mixture of Europeans, Malays, and Dyaks, the different religions, and the eager and anxious manner in which all pressed forward. The novelty of the thing was quite sufficient to excite our Jacks, after having been cooped up so long on board ship, to say nothing of the chance of a broken head. Of the Malays and Dyaks who accompanied us, some came from curiosity, some from attachment to Mr. Brooke, and many for plunder, but I think the majority to gratify revenge, as there were but few of the inhabitants on the north coast of Borneo who had not suffered more or less from the atrocities of the Sarebus and Sakarran pirates--either their houses burned, their relations murdered, or their wives and children captured and sold into slavery. We did not get far up the river the first day, as the tope was very slow, and carried that most essential part of all expeditions, the commissariat. Patingi Ali, who had been sent the day before to await the force in the mouth of the Sarebus, fell in with five or six native boats, probably on the look-out for us, to which he gave chase, and captured one, the rest retreating up the river. On the 9th June, 1843, we had got some thirty miles in the same direction; every thing was in order; and, as we advanced, I pulled from one end of my little fleet to the other, and felt much the same sort of pride as Sir William Parker must have experienced when leading seventy-five sail of British ships up the Yeang-tse Keang river into the very heart of the Celestial Empire. It rained hard; but we were well supplied with kajans, a mat admirably adapted to keep out the wet; and securely covered in, my gig had all the appearance of a native boat, especially as I had substituted paddles for oars. In this manner I frequently went a little in advance of the force; and on the 9th I came on a couple of boats, hauled close in under the jungle, apparently perfectly unconscious of my approach. I concluded them to be part of the small fleet of boats that had been chased, the previous day, in the mouth of the river; and when abreast of them, and within range, I fired from my rifle. The crews of each boat immediately precipitated themselves into the water, and escaped into the jungle. They were so closely covered in, that I did not see any one at first; but I found that my ball had passed through both sides of an iron kettle, in which they were boiling some rice. How astonished the cook must have been! On coming up, our Dyak followers dashed into the jungle in pursuit of the fugitives, but without success. We moved on leisurely with the flood-tide, anchoring always on the ebb, by which means we managed to collect our stragglers and keep the force together. Toward the evening, by the incessant sound of distant gongs, we were aware that our approach was known, and that preparations were making to repel us. These noises were kept up all night; and we occasionally heard the distant report of ordnance, which was fired, of course, to intimidate us. During the day, several deserted boats were taken from the banks of the river and destroyed, some of them containing spears, shields, and ammunition, with a few fire-arms. The place we brought up at for the night was called Boling; but here the river presented a troublesome and dangerous obstacle in what is called the bore, caused by the tide coming in with a tremendous rush, as if an immense wave of the sea had suddenly rolled up the stream, and, finding itself confined on either side, extended across, like a high bank of water, curling and breaking as it went, and, from the frightful velocity with which it passes up, carrying all before it. There are, however, certain bends of the river where the bore does not break across: it was now our business to look out for and gain these spots between the times of its activity. The natives hold them in great dread. From Boling the river becomes less deep, and not safe for large boats; so that here we were obliged to leave our tope with the commissariat, and a sufficient force for her protection, as we had received information that thirteen piratical boats had been some time cruising outside, and were daily expected up the river on their return, when our unguarded tope would have made them an acceptable prize. In addition to this, we were now fairly in the enemy's country: and for all we knew, hundreds of canoes might have been hid in the jungle, ready to lanch. Just below Boling, the river branches off to the right and left; that to the left leading to another nest of pirates at Pakoo, who are (by land) in communication with those of Paddi, the place it was our intention to attack first. Having provisioned our boats for six days, and provided a strong guard to remain with the tope, the native force not feeling themselves safe separated from the main body,--we started, a smaller and more select party than before, but, in my opinion, equally formidable, leaving about 150 men. This arrangement gave but little satisfaction to those left behind, our men not liking to exchange an expedition where a fight was certain, for a service in which it was doubtful, although their position was one of danger, being open to attack from three different parts of the river. Our party now consisted of the Dido's boats, the three Datus from Sarawak, and some Sow Dyaks, eager for heads and plunder. We arrived at our first resting-place early in the afternoon, and took up a position in as good order as the small space would admit. I secured my gig close to the bank, under the shade of a large tree, at some little distance from the fleet of boats; and, by myself, contemplated my novel position--in command of a mixed force of 500 men, some seventy miles up a river in the interior of Borneo; on the morrow about to carry all the horrors of war among a race of savage pirates, whose country no force had ever yet dared to invade, and who had been inflicting with impunity every sort of cruelty on all whom they encountered, for more than a century. As the sun went down, the scene was beautiful, animated by the variety and picturesque appearance of the native prahus, and the praying of the Mussulman, with his face in the direction of the Prophet's tomb, bowing his head to the deck of his boat, and absorbed in devotions from which nothing could withdraw his attention. For a time--it being that for preparing the evening meal--no noise was made: it was a perfect calm; and the rich foliage was reflected in the water as in a mirror, while a small cloud of smoke ascended from each boat, to say nothing of that from my cigar, which added much to the charm I then experienced. Late in the evening, when the song and joke passed from boat to boat, and the lights from the different fires were reflected in the water, the scenery was equally pleasing; but later still, when the lights were out, there being no moon, and the banks overhung with trees, it was so dark that no one could see beyond his own boat. A little after midnight, a small boat was heard passing up the river, and was regularly hailed by us in succession; to which they replied, "We belong to your party." And it was not until the yell of triumph, given by six or eight voices, after they had (with a strong flood-tide in their favor) shot past the last of our boats, that we found how we had been imposed on. CHAPTER XVII. Ascent of the river to Paddi.--Town taken and burnt.--Narrow escape of a reinforcement of friendly Dyaks.--Night-attack by the pirates.--Conference: they submit.--Proceed against Pakoo.--Dyak treatment of dead enemies.--Destruction of Pakoo, and submission of the pirates.--Advance upon Rembas.--The town destroyed: the inhabitants yield.--Satisfactory effects of the expedition.--Death of Dr. Simpson.--Triumphant return to Sarawak. _June 11th._--We moved on immediately after the passing up of the bore, the dangers of which appeared to have been greatly exaggerated. The beating of gongs and discharge of cannon had been going on the whole of the previous night. The scenery improved in beauty every yard that we advanced; but our attention was drawn from it by the increase of yelling as we approached the scene of action. Although as yet we had only heard our enemies, our rapid advance with a strong tide must have been seen by them from the jungle on the various hills which now rose to our view. Being in my gig, somewhat ahead of the boats, I had the advantage of observing all that occurred. The scene was the most exciting I ever experienced. We had no time for delay or consideration: the tide was sweeping us rapidly up; and had we been inclined to retreat then, we should have found it difficult. A sudden turn in the river brought us (Mr. Brooke was by my side) in front of a steep hill which rose from the bank. It had been cleared of jungle, and long grass grew in its place. As we hove in sight, several hundred savages rose up, and gave one of their war-yells: it was the first I had heard. No report from musketry or ordnance could ever make a man's heart feel so _small_ as mine did at that horrid yell: but I had no leisure to think. I had only time for a shot at them with my double barrel, as they rushed down the steep, while I was carried past. I soon after heard the report of our large boat's heavy gun, which must have convinced them that we likewise were prepared. On the roof of a long building, on the summit of the hill, were several warriors performing a war-dance, which it would be difficult to imitate on such a stage. As these were not the forts we were in search of, we did not delay longer than to exchange a few shots in sweeping along. Our next obstacle was more troublesome, being a strong barrier right across the river, formed of two rows of trees placed firmly in the mud, with their tops crossed and secured together by ratans; and along the fork, formed by the crossing of the tops of these stakes, were other trees firmly secured. Rapidly approaching this barrier, I observed a small opening that might probably admit a canoe; and gathering good way, and putting my gig's head straight at it, I squeezed through. On passing it the scene again changed, and I had before me three formidable-looking forts, which lost not a moment in opening a discharge of cannon on my unfortunate gig. Luckily their guns were properly elevated for the range of the barrier; and, with the exception of a few straggling grape-shot that splashed the water round us, the whole went over our heads. For a moment I found myself cut off from my companions, and drifting fast upon the enemy. The banks of the river were covered with warriors, yelling and rushing down to possess themselves of my boat and its crew. I had some difficulty in getting my long gig round, and paddling up against the stream; but, while my friend Brooke steered the boat, my cockswain and myself kept up a fire with tolerable aim on the embrasures, to prevent, if possible, their reloading before the pinnace, our leading boat, could bring her twelve-pound carronade to bear. I was too late to prevent the pinnace falling athwart the barrier, in which position she had three men wounded. With the assistance of some of our native followers, the ratan-lashings which secured the heads of the stakes were soon cut through; and I was not sorry when I found the Dido's first cutter on the same side with myself. The other boats soon followed; and while the pinnace kept up a destructive fire on the fort, Mr. D'Aeth, who was the first to land, jumped on shore, with his crew, at the foot of the hill on the top of which the nearest fort stood, and at once rushed for the summit. This mode of warfare--this dashing at once in the very face of their fort--was so novel and incomprehensible to our enemies, that they fled, panic-struck, into the jungle; and it was with the greatest difficulty that our leading men could get even a snap-shot at the rascals as they went. That evening the country was illuminated for miles by the burning of the capital, Paddi, and adjacent villages; at which work, and plundering, our native followers were most expert. At Paddi the river branches off to the right and left; and it was on the tongue of land formed by them that the forts were very cleverly placed. We took all their guns, and burned the stockades level with the ground. The banks of the river were here so confined, that a man might with ease throw a spear across; and, as the jungle was close, it was necessary to keep pretty well on the alert. For the greater part of the night, the burning of the houses made it as bright as day. In the evening, Drs. Simpson and Treacher amputated a poor fellow's arm close to the shoulder, which, in the cramped space of the boat, was no easy operation. He was one of our best men, and captain of the forecastle on board the Dido. Early on the following morning (12th) our boats, with the exception of the Jolly Bachelor, now become the hospital, proceeded up the two branches of the river; almost all the native force remaining to complete the work of destruction. An accident had nearly occurred at this period. A report had reached us that several large boats--supposed to be a fleet of Sarebus pirates returning from a cruise--were in the river; and knowing that they could not well attack and pass our force at Boling without our hearing of it, I took no further notice of the rumor, intending to go down in my gig afterward and have a look at them. While we were at breakfast in the Jolly Bachelor, a loud chattering of many voices was heard, attended by a great beating of tom-toms; and suddenly a large prahu, crowded with savages, came sweeping round the bend of the river, rapidly nearing us with a strong flood-tide. As she advanced, others hove in sight. In a moment pots and spoons were thrown down, arms seized, and the brass six-pounder, loaded with grape and canister, was on the point of being fired, when Williamson, the only person who understood their character, made us aware that they were a friendly tribe of Dyaks, from the River Linga, coming to our assistance, or, more likely, coming to seek for plunder and the heads of their enemies, with whom they had for many years been at war. Those in the leading boat had, however, a narrow escape. I had already given the order to fire; but luckily the priming had been blown off from the six-pounder. Had it not been so, fifty at least out of the first hundred would have been sent to their long homes. They were between eight and nine hundred strong. The scene to me was indeed curious and exciting: for the wild appearance of these fellows exceeded any thing I had yet witnessed. Their war-dresses--each decorating himself according to his own peculiar fancy, in a costume the most likely at once to adorn the wearer and strike terror into the enemy--made a remarkable show. Each had a shield and a handful of spears; about one in ten was furnished with some sort of firearm, which was of more danger to himself or his neighbor than to any one else. They wore short padded jackets, capable of resisting the point of a wooden spear. The first thing necessary was to supply each with a strip of white calico, to be worn in the head-dress as a distinguishing mark, to prevent our people knocking them over if met by accident while prowling about the jungle. We also established a watchword, "Datu," which many of them, who had great dread of the white men, never ceased to call out. Sheriff Jaffer, in command of their force, had promised to join us from the beginning; but as they did not make their appearance off the mouth of the river, we thought no more of them. It was necessary to dispatch messengers up the rivers to inform our boats of this re-enforcement, as in all probability an attack would have been made immediately on the appearing in sight of so formidable a force. At 10 A.M. our boats returned, having gone up the right-hand branch as far as it was practicable. That to the left having been obstructed by trees felled across the stream, was considered, from the trouble taken to prevent our progress, to be the branch up which the enemy had retreated, and not being provisioned for more than the day, they came back, and started again in the afternoon with the first of the flood-tide. Of this party Lieutenant Horton took charge, accompanied by Mr. Brooke. It was a small, but an effective, and determined, and well-appointed little body, not likely to be deterred by difficulties. A small native force of about forty men accompanied them, making, with our own, between eighty and ninety people. The forts having been destroyed, no further obstacles were expected to our advance beyond the felling of trees and the vast odds as to numbers in case of attack, the pirates being reckoned to be about six thousand Dyaks and five hundred Malays. The evening set in with rain and hazy weather. Our native skirmishing parties were returning to their boats and evening meals; our advancing party had been absent about an hour and a half, and I had just commenced a supper in the Jolly Bachelor on ham and poached eggs, when the sound of the pinnace's twelve-pounder carronade broke through the stillness of the night. This was responded to by one of those simultaneous war-yells apparently from every part of the country. My immediate idea was that our friends had been surrounded. It was impossible to move so large a boat as the Jolly Bachelor up to their assistance; nor would it be right to leave our wounded without a sufficient force for their protection. I immediately jumped into my gig, taking with me a bugler, whom I placed in the bow, and seeing our arms in as perfect readiness as the rain would allow us to keep them in, I proceeded to join the combatants. Daylight had disappeared, as it does in tropical climates, immediately after the setting of the sun. The tide had just turned against me; and as I advanced up the river, the trees hung over many parts, nearly meeting across; at the same time the occasional firing that was kept up assured me that the enemy were on the alert, and with all the advantages of local knowledge and darkness on their side. From the winding of the stream, too, the yells appeared to come from every direction, sometimes ahead and sometimes astern. I had pulled, feeling my way, for nearly two hours, when a sudden and quick discharge of musketry, well on my left hand, intimated to me that I was approaching the scene of action; and, at the same time, passing several large canoes hauled up on the bank, I felt convinced that my anticipation was right, that our party were surrounded, and that we should have to fight our way to each other. My plan was to make it appear as if I was bringing up a strong re-enforcement; and the moment the firing ceased, I made the bugler strike up "Rory O'More," which was immediately responded to by three British cheers, and then followed a death-like stillness--if any thing, more unpleasant than the war-yell--and I could not help feeling certain that the enemy lay between us. The stream now ran rapidly over loose stones. Against the sky, where the jungle had been cleared, I could distinctly see the outlines of human beings. I laid my double-barrel across my knees, and we pulled on. When within shot-range, I hailed, to make certain, and receiving no answer, after a second time, I fired, keeping the muskets of the gig's crew ready to repel the first attack in case the enemy did not decamp. My fire was answered by Lieutenant Horton, "We are here, sir." At first I was much distressed from the fear that I might have hurt any one. They had not heard me hail, owing, I suppose, to the noise of the water rushing over the stones; and they had not hailed me, thinking that I must of course know that it was them, and the enemy being in the jungle all round, they did not like to attract attention to where they were. I found they had taken up a very clever position. The running stream had washed the ground away on the right bank, leaving a sort of little, deep bay, just big enough to hold the boats, from which the bank rose quite perpendicularly. On the top of this bank the jungle had been cleared for about thirty yards, and on this Lieutenant Gunnel, with seven royal marines, was posted as a rear-guard. This was an important position, and one of danger, as the jungle itself was alive with the enemy; and although the spears were hurled from it continually during the night, no shot was thrown away unless the figure of the pirate could be distinctly seen. It continued to rain: the men wore their great-costs for the purpose of keeping their pieces dry; and several times, during that long night, I observed the muskets of these steady and good men brought to the shoulder and again lowered without firing, as that part of the jungle whence a spear had been hurled to within a few feet of where they stood did not show a distinct form of any thing living. The hours were little less interesting for those who, in the boats below, stood facing the opposite bank of the river with their arms in their hands. It appears that the enemy had come down in great force to attack the boats from that side; and as the river was there very shallow, and the bottom hard, they could, by wading not more than knee-deep, have approached to within five or six yards of them; but in the first attack they had lost a great many men, and it is supposed that their repeated advances throughout the night were, more to recover their dead and wounded than to make any fresh attack on our compact little force, whose deadly aim and rapid firing must have astonished them, and who certainly were, one and all, prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible. To the left of our position, and about 200 yards up the river, large trees were being felled during the night; and by the torch-lights showing the spot, the officer of the boat, Mr. Partridge, kept up a very fair ball-practice with the pinnace's gun. Toward morning a shot fell apparently just where they were at work; and that being accompanied by what we afterward ascertained caused more horror and consternation among the enemy than any thing else, a common signal sky-rocket, made them resign the ground entirely to us. The last shot, too, that was fired from the pinnace had killed three men. As daylight broke I found that most of our party had squatted down with their guns between their knees, and, being completely exhausted, had fallen asleep in spite of the rain. Few will ever forget that night. There were two natives and one marine only of our party badly wounded; the latter was struck by a rifle shot, which entered his chest and lodged in his shoulder; and this poor fellow, a gallant young officer named Jenkins, already distinguished in the Chinese war, volunteered to convey in the second gig, with four boys only, down to the Jolly Bachelor. He performed this duty, and was again up with the party before daylight. At daylight we found the pirates collecting in some force above us; and several shots were fired, as if to try the range of their rifles; but they took good care not to come within reach of our muskets. Shortly after, the tide beginning to rise, we made preparations for ascending further up the river. This was more than they bargained for, as we were close to where they had removed their families, with such little valuables as they could collect, when we so unexpectedly carried their forts and took possession of their town; and we were not sorry on observing, at that moment, a flag of truce advance from their party down the stream, and halt half way to our position. We immediately sent an unarmed Malay to meet them; and after a little talk, they came to our boats. The message was, that they were ready to abide by any terms we might dictate. I promised that hostilities should cease for two hours; but told them we could treat only with the chiefs, whose persons should be protected, and I invited them to a conference at 1 P.M. In the mean while, having first sent notice by the messengers, I took advantage of the time, and ascended in my gig, without any great difficulty, above the obstruction they had been so busy throwing across the river during the night. The news that hostilities were to cease was not long in being communicated; and, by the time I had got up, the greatest confidence appeared to be established. Having pulled up into shoal water, and where the river widened, the banks were soon covered with natives; and some seventy or eighty immediately laid aside their spears and walked off to my boat, the whole of which, together with its crew, they examined with the greatest curiosity. In the heat of the day we indulged in a most refreshing bath under the shade of overhanging trees, the bottom of the river being fine sand and pebbles worn smooth by the running stream. At the appointed hour the chiefs made their appearance, dressed in their best, but looking haggard and dejected. Mr. Brooke, the "Tuan Besar," or great man, officiated as spokesman. He fully explained that our invasion of their country, and destruction of their forts and town, was not for the purposes of pillage or gain to ourselves, but as a punishment for their repeated and aggravated acts of piracy; that they had been fully warned, for two years before, that the British nation would no longer allow the native trade between the adjacent islands and Singapore to be cut off and plundered, and the crews of the vessels cruelly put to death, as they had been. They were very humble and submissive; admitted that their lives were forfeited, and if we said they were to die, they were prepared; although, they explained, they were equally willing to live. They promised to refrain forever from piracy, and offered hostages for their good behavior. Mr. Brooke then explained how much more advantageous trade would be than piracy, and invited them to a further conference at Sarawak, where they might witness all the blessings resulting from the line of conduct he had advised them to follow. If, on the other hand, we heard of a single act of piracy being committed by them, their country should be again invaded and occupied; and their enemies, the whole tribe of Linga Dyaks, let loose upon them, until they were rooted out and utterly destroyed. To other questions they replied, that although the chief held communication, and was in the habit of cruising with the people of the other settlements of Pakoo and Rembas, still they could not hold themselves responsible for their good conduct; and as both held strongly fortified positions (of course supposed by themselves to be impregnable), they did not think that they would abstain altogether from piracy unless we visited and inflicted a similar chastisement to that they themselves had suffered. They also stated that, although they never would again submit to the orders of the great and powerful chiefs, Seriffs Sahib and Muller, still they could not join in any expedition against them or their old allies, their blood-thirsty and formidable neighbors in the Sakarran river. On our return to the still smoking ruins of the once picturesque town of Paddi, we found that Seriff Jaffer, with his 800 warriors, had not been idle. The country round had been laid waste. All had been desolated, together with their extensive winter-stores of rice. It was a melancholy sight; and, for a moment, I forgot the horrid acts of piracy and cruel murders of these people, and my heart relented at what I had done--it was but for a few minutes. Collecting our forces, we dropped leisurely down the river, but not without a parting yell of triumph from our Dyak force--a yell that must have made the hearts of those quail whose wives and children lay concealed in the jungle near to where we had held our conference. We arrived at Boling soon after midnight, where we found the tope, with our provision, quite safe. Several shots had been fired at her the night before; and large parties had repeatedly come down to the banks, and endeavored to throw spears on board. At daylight (Wednesday, 14th) we lost no time in completing to four days' provisions, and starting, with the flood-tide, for Pakoo. It took us until late in the evening before we appeared in sight of two newly-built stockades, from which the pirates fled, panic-struck, without firing a shot, on our first discharge. We had evidently come on them before they were prepared, as we found some of the guns in the forts with the slings still on by which they had been carried. The positions of the forts here, as at Paddi, were selected with great judgment; and had their guns been properly served, it would have been sharp work for boats. The same work of destruction was carried on; but the town was larger than at Paddi, and night setting in, the conflagration had a grand effect. Although the greater part of their valuables had been removed, the place was alive with goats and poultry, the catching of which afforded great sport for our men. Some of the Singè Dyaks succeeded in taking the heads of a few pirates, who probably were killed or wounded in the forts on our first discharge. I saw one body afterward without its head, in which each passing Dyak had thought proper to stick a spear, so that it had all the appearance of a huge porcupine. The operation of extracting the brains from the lower part of the skull, with a bit of bamboo shaped like a spoon, preparatory to preserving, is not a pleasing one. The head is then dried, with the flesh and hair on it, suspended over a slow fire, during which process the chiefs and elders of the tribe perform a sort of war-dance. Soon after daylight the following morning (Thursday, 15th) the chiefs of the tribe came down with a flag of truce, when much the same sort of conference took place as at Paddi. They were equally submissive, offering their own lives, but begging those of their wives and children might be spared. After promising to accede to all we desired, they agreed to attend the conference about to assemble at Sarawak, where the only terms on which they could expect lasting peace and mutual good understanding would be fully explained and discussed. Like their friends at Paddi, they were of opinion that their neighbors at Rembas would not abstain from piracy until they had received convincing proof that the power existed which was capable and determined to put down piracy. All these misguided people appeared not only to listen to reason, but to be open to conviction; and I am far from imputing to them that treachery so commonly attributed to all classes of Malays. The higher grades, I admit, are cunning and deceitful; but subsequent events during the last two years have proved the truth and honesty of the intentions of these people. They have strictly adhered to their promises; and have since, although surrounded by piratical tribes, been carrying on a friendly trade with Sarawak. Our next point of attack was Rembas. Although there was a nearer overland communication between those places, the distance by water was upward of sixty miles; but the strong tides were of great assistance, as we could always rest when they were against us. High water was the only time, however, that suited us for landing, as the fall of tide left a considerable space of soft mud to wade through before reaching _terra firma_: this was sufficiently unpleasant to our men, without the additional trouble of having to load and fire when in that position; besides, when stuck fast in the mud, you become a much easier object to be fired at. At Rembas the tide was not up until just before daylight; and, having no moon to light us, a night attack was not considered advisable; so that we brought up about a quarter tide below the town, on the evening of the 16th. As Rembas contained a larger proportion of Malays (who are always well supplied with firearms) than the other settlements, though we had not experienced any opposition at Pakoo, we fully expected they would here make a better stand. We advanced early in the morning, and soon came up with a succession of formidable barriers, more troublesome to cut through than any we had before encountered. About a mile below the town we landed 700 of the Linga Dyaks on the left bank of the river, who were to separate into two divisions--commanded by Seriff Jaffer and his son, a remarkably fine and spirited youth--and creep stealthily through the jungle, for which the country was well adapted, so as to get to the rear of the town and forts, and make a simultaneous attack on the first shot being fired from our boats. The last barrier (and there were four of them) was placed just within point-blank range; the gig being a light boat, I managed to haul her over, close to the bank, and advanced so as to be both out of sight and out of range; and just as our first boat came up with the barrier, I pushed out from under the bank, and opened a fire of musketry on the stockade, which was full of men. This, with the war-yell that followed from their rear (both unexpected), together with their fears having been already worked upon by the destruction of Paddi and defeat of Pakoo, threw them into the greatest confusion. They fled in all directions, without provoking us by firing a shot, although we found the guns loaded. Seriff Jaffer and his Dyaks were gratified by having all the fighting to themselves, and by some very pretty hand-to-hand encounters. We were much amused, afterward, by their own account of the heroic deeds they had performed. Lives were lost on both sides, and heads taken. This Rembas was by far the largest and strongest place we had assaulted. We found some very large war-boats, both fitted and building; one measured ninety-two feet in length, with fourteen beam; and in addition to the usual good supply of fruit, goats, and poultry, our men were gratified by finding several bullocks. The plunder was great; and although, with the exception of the guns, of no value to us, it was very much so to our native followers. After we had destroyed every thing, we received a flag of truce, when similar explanations and promises were made as at Paddi and Pakoo; and here ended for the present, the warlike part of our expedition. The punishment we had inflicted was severe, but not more than the crime of their horrid piracies deserved. A few heads were brought away by our Dyak followers, as trophies; but there was no unnecessary sacrifice of life, and I do not believe there was a woman or child hurt. The destruction of these places astonished the whole country beyond description. In addition to the distance and difficulty of access to their strongly-fortified positions, they looked for protection from the bore that usually ran up the Sarebus, and which they imagined none but their own boats could manage. As the different Malay chiefs heard that, in ten days, a handful of white men had totally destroyed their strongholds, they shook their heads, and exclaimed, "God is great!" and the Dyaks declared that the Tuan Besar (Mr. Brooke) had charmed the river to quiet the bore, [17] and that the whites were invulnerable. Although this expedition would have a great moral effect on all the more respectable and thinking natives, inasmuch as the inhabitants of the places destroyed were looked upon, from the large proportion of Malays, as more civilized than their formidable and savage neighbors, the Dyaks inhabiting the Sakarran river; still, it was not to be supposed, when the settlements of Paddi, Pakoo, and Rembas could not be responsible for the good behavior of one another, that it was probable the severe lesson taught them would have any great effect on the Sakarrans. On regaining the tope at Boling, we found our assistant surgeon, Dr. Simpson, who had been left in charge of the sick, laid up with fever and ague. For conveniency's sake, the wounded men had been removed to a large native boat; and while the doctor was passing along the edge of the boat, his foot slipped, he fell overboard, and not being much of a swimmer, and a strong tide running, he was a good while in the water, though a native went after him. He had, for some time past, been in bad health; but the cold he then caught brought on inflammation in the lungs, under the effects of which he sank soon after our return to Singapore. Poor Simpson! he was not only clever in his profession, but endeared to us all by his kind and gentle manner, so grateful to the sick. There were few of us, while in China, who had not come under his hands, and experienced his tender, soothing, and unremitting attention. We now gave our native followers permission to depart to their respective homes, which they did loaded with _plunder_, usually, in India, called _loot_; ourselves getting under weigh to rejoin the Dido off the Island of Burong, and from thence we proceeded to the mouth of the Morotaba, where, leaving the ship, Mr. Brooke and I went in my boat, with two others in attendance, to take leave of the rajah, prior to my return to Singapore and China. Although the greater part of the native boats attached to the expedition had already arrived at Sarawak, the rajah had sent them back, some miles down the river, with as many others as he could collect, gorgeously dressed out with flags, to meet Mr. Brooke and myself, the heroes of the grandest expedition that had ever been known in the annals of Malayan history. Our approach to the grand city was, to them, most triumphant, although to us a nuisance. From the moment we entered the last reach, the saluting from every gun in the capital that could be fired without bursting was incessant; and as we neared the royal residence, the yells, meant for cheers, and the beating of gongs, intended to be a sort of "See, the conquering hero comes!" were quite deafening. The most minute particulars of our deeds, of course greatly exaggerated, had been detailed, long before our arrival, by the native chiefs, who were eye-witnesses; and when we were seated in the rajah's presence, the royal countenance relaxed into a smile of real pleasure as he turned his wondering eyes from Mr. Brooke to myself and back again. I suppose he thought a great deal of us, as he said little or nothing; and, as we were rather hungry after our pull, we were very glad to get away once more to Mr. Brooke's hospitable board, to which we did ample justice. My stay at Sarawak was but of short duration, as, before I had time to carry out the arrangements I had made to put down this horrid traffic, the Dido was, owing to some changes in the distribution of the fleet, recalled to China. As the tide would not suit for my return to the Dido until two o'clock the following morning, we sat up until that hour, when, with mutual regret, we parted. I had just seen enough of Borneo and my enterprising friend, Mr. Brooke, to feel the deepest interest in both. No description of mine can in any way give my readers a proper idea of the character of the man I had just then left; and however interesting his journal may appear in the reading, it is only by being in his company, and by hearing him advocate the cause of the persecuted inland natives, and listening to his vivid and fair description of the beautiful country he has adopted, that one can be made to enter fully into and feel what I would fain describe, but can not. We parted; and I did not then expect to be able so soon to return and finish what I had intended, viz., the complete destruction of the strongholds belonging to the worst among the pirate hordes, so long the terror of the coast, either by capturing or driving from the country the piratical Seriffs Sahib and Muller, by whose evil influence they had been chiefly kept up. From all that I had seen, the whole country appeared to be a large garden, with a rich and varied soil, capable of producing anything. The natives, especially the mountain Dyaks, are industrious, willing, inoffensive, although a persecuted race; and the only things wanted to make the country the most productive and happiest in the world were, the suppression of piracy, good government, and opening a trade with the interior, which could not fail of success. All these I saw partially begun; and I felt assured that with the assistance of a vessel of war, and the countenance only of the government, Mr. Brooke would, although slowly, yet surely, bring about their happy consummation. CHAPTER XVIII. Captain Keppel sails for China.--Calcutta.--The Dido ordered to Borneo again.--Arrival at Sarawak.--Effect of her presence at Sarawak.--Great improvements visible.--Atrocities of the Sakarran pirates.--Mr. Brooke's letter.--Captain Sir E. Belcher's previous visit to Sarawak in the Samarang.--Coal found.--Second letter from the Rajah Muda Hassim.--Expedition against the Sakarran pirates.--Patusen destroyed.--Macota remembered, and his retreat burnt.--Further fighting, and advance.--Ludicrous midnight alarm. _June 24th._--I reached the Dido at 8 o'clock, and immediately got under weigh. After remaining twenty-four hours to water at Singapore, I sailed for Hong Kong. My time, during the year that I was absent from Borneo, if not quite so usefully, was not unpleasantly passed. We lay a few months in the Canton river. In addition to having good opportunities of seeing the natives of China in their domestic state, I witnessed one of those most curious and extraordinary sights that occasionally occur during the winter months in the city of Canton, namely, a fire. The one I saw was about the most extensive that had ever been experienced; and the Dido's crew had the gratification of being of some assistance in the protection of British property. From China the Dido accompanied the commander-in-chief, in the Cornwallis, to the Spanish colony at Manilla, which is a place that few forget; and a short description of our visit there has been given in an interesting little work, written by Captain Cunynghame. On my return to Hong Kong, I had the gratification of receiving on board the Dido, Major-General Lord Saltoun and his staff, consisting of two old and esteemed friends of mine, Captain, now Major Arthur Cunynghame, his lordship's aid-de-camp, and Major Grant, of the 9th Lancers, who had been adjutant-general to the forces. A more agreeable cruise at sea I never experienced. We called at the island of Pinang, in the Malacca straits, on our way, where we again fell in with the admiral; and I was most agreeably surprised at meeting my friend Mr. Brooke, who had come on to Singapore to meet Sir William Parker, and had followed him up in the Wanderer, commanded by my friend Captain Henry Seymour,--that vessel, in company with the Harlequin, Captain the Hon. George Hastings, and the H. C. steamer Diana, having just returned from an expedition to Acheen, whither they had been dispatched by the commander-in-chief, to inquire into and demand redress for an act of piracy, committed on an English merchant-vessel. An account of the expedition has already been published. The pirates had made a desperate resistance, and several lives were lost, and many severely wounded on our side; among the latter was my friend Mr. Brooke (in the head and arm), for which I took the liberty of giving him a lecture on his rashness, he having quite sufficient ground for fighting over in his newly-adopted country. He was much pleased at the admiral's having promised that the Dido should return again to the Straits station as soon as she had completed her voyage to Calcutta. On the 11th March, 1844, we anchored off the grand City of Palaces, and well does it merit the name. We could not have, timed our visit better. The governor-general, the Earl of Ellenborough, was being _fêted_ on his return from the frontiers, which _fêtes_ were continued on the arrival, a few days after ourselves, of the Cornwallis at Kedgeree, when the flag of Sir William Parker was shifted to the Dido. The admiral experienced the same style of hospitable entertainment that had previously been given to General Sir Hugh Gough on his return from the Chinese expedition. At Calcutta I was kindly invited by the "Tent Club," and introduced to that noble and most exciting of all field-sports, "Hog-hunting in India;" but with which the pleasures of the day did not cease. The subsequent convivial meeting was a thing not easily to be forgotten. Although under a tent pitched by the edge of the jungle, thirty miles from the city, none of the comforts of the house were wanting; there were the punkah and the hookah, those luxuries of the East, to say nothing of heaps of ice from the far West, which aided considerably the consumption of champagne and claret; and to better all these good things, every man brought with him the will and the power to please and to be pleased. A few days before my departure from Calcutta, the governor-general finding it necessary to send treasure to China, the admiral desired me to receive it on board. Although a welcome cargo, it delayed for a couple of months my return to Borneo. I found Mr. Brooke awaiting my arrival at Singapore; but as I could not then receive him on board, Captain Hastings took him over to Sarawak in the Harlequin. On arriving at Hong Kong, Rear-Admiral Sir T. Cochrane appointed Mr. Frederick Wade as first lieutenant, Lieutenant Wilmot Horton having been promoted to the rank of commander for his gallant defence when the Dido's boats were attacked by the very superior force of pirates off the island of Sirhassan. Having landed the treasure at Hong Kong, and completed stores and provisions, I sailed from Macao on the 21st June, and working down against the monsoon, arrived at Singapore on the 18th July. I here found letters from Mr. Brooke, stating that the Sakarrans had been out in great force; and although he was not aware of any danger to himself or his settlement, still, by coming over quickly, I might have a fair chance of catching and crushing them in the very act of piracy. I lost no time in preparing for another expedition. The government at Calcutta had become fully sensible of the necessity of protecting the native trade to Singapore, and had sent down the Phlegethon steamer, of light draught of water, and better adapted to service in the straits or rivers than any of her majesty's larger vessels. She was, moreover, fitted in every way for the peculiar service on which she was to be employed, with a zealous, experienced, and active commander, F. Scott, [18] as well as a fine enterprising set of young officers. I lost no time in making application for her to the resident counselor, Mr. Church (in the absence of Colonel Butterworth, the Governor of the Straits), who immediately placed her at my disposal; and with such means, I was anxious to commence operations as speedily as possible, leaving the Vixen and Wolverine to perform the other duties of the station. _Thursday, 25th July._--Sailed from Singapore, having dispatched the Phlegethon the previous night, with orders to rendezvous at the entrance to the Morotaba, which we entered in the evening of the 29th; and anchoring the ship inside the river, I went on in the steamer to within four miles of Sarawak, when I pulled up in my gig, accompanied by the Dido's pinnace, that I might, by firing her carronade as a signal, be enabled to give notice of our approach, not feeling myself quite secure from a shot from the forts, which were very judiciously placed so as to command the last reach approaching the town, as I knew that before Mr. Brooke's return they had been put in a state of defence, and a regular watch kept, by self-appointed officers, sleeping on their arms. I, however, got up without accident, in time to receive a hearty welcome, about daylight. Not expecting to revisit Borneo during the period that the ship had to run before completing her usual time of commission, it was gratifying for me to read in my friend's journal, alluding to my former visit; "I came myself in the Dido; and I may say that her appearance was the consummation of my enterprise." "The natives saw directly that there was a force to protect and to punish; and most of the chiefs, conscious of their evil ways, trembled; Muda Hassim was gratified, and felt that this power would exalt his authority both in Borneo and along the coast, and he was not slow in magnifying the force of the Dido. The state in which Captain Keppel and his officers visited the rajah all heightened the effect; and the marines and the band excited the admiration and the fears of the natives. I felt the rajah's hand tremble at the first interview; and not all the well-known command of countenance, of which the natives are masters, could conceal his emotion." Gentle reader, excuse my vanity if I continue a little further with my friend's journal, although it gets rather personal: "I believe the first emotion was anything but pleasurable; but Captain Keppel's conciliatory and kind manner soon removed any feeling of fear; and was all along of the greatest use to me in our subsequent doings. The first qualification, in dealing with a Malay, is a kind and gentle manner; for their habitual politeness is such that they are hurt by the ordinary _brusquerie_ of the European. "I shall not go over the chase of the three boats of the Balagnini pirates, or the attack made on the Dido's boats by the Sirhassan, people, except to remark, that in the latter case, I am sure Lieutenant Horton acted rightly in sparing their lives and property; for, with these occasional pirates, a severe lesson, followed by that degree of conciliation and pardon which shall best insure a correction of their vices, is far wiser and preferable to a course of undistinguishing severity." I found Sarawak much altered for the better, and the population considerably increased. Mr. Brooke had established himself in a new house built on a beautiful and elevated mound, from which the intriguing Macota had just been ejected on my first visit. Neat and pretty-looking little Swiss cottages had sprung up on all the most picturesque spots, which gave it quite a European look. He had also made an agreeable addition to his English society; and a magazine of English merchandise had been opened to trade with the natives, together with many other improvements. On the other hand, Seriff Sahib, not deterred, as I had anticipated he would be, by the example I made of his neighbors in the Sarebus, had taken measures for withdrawing from the adjoining river of Sadong, where he had been living in a comparatively unguarded state, and had, during the last nine months, been making busy preparations for fortifying himself at a place called Patusen, up the Batang Lupar. He had lately got things in a forward state, had called out a large fleet of Sakarrans as an escort; and being puffed up with his own power and importance, had thought proper to prolong the performance of his voyage, of about 100 miles, from his residence in Sadong to his fortified position at Patusen, for three weeks or a month, during which time he had dispatched small parties of his fleet, which consisted of upward of 150 war-prahus, on piratical excursions. These robbers had, in addition to their piracies on the high seas, scoured the coast in all directions, and committed the greatest atrocities, attended with some of the most cruel murders. One sample will be sufficient to show their brutal character:--A detachment of three of their boats, having obtained information that a poor Dyak family, belonging to a tribe in Mr. Brooke's territory, had come down from their mountain to cultivate a small portion of land nearer the coast, and, for their better security, had made their dwelling in the upper branches of a large tree on the outskirts of the forest, determined to destroy them. Their little children were playing in the jungle when the pirates were seen approaching the tree with their diabolical war-yells. As the poor man did not descend immediately on being summoned, he was shot; when other ruffians, to save their ammunition, mounted the tree, murdered the woman, and returned in triumph to their boats with the heads of both victims. The children, who had witnessed this from their hiding-places, succeeded in getting to Sarawak. Taking advantage of Mr. Brooke's unusually long absence, Sarawak itself was threatened, and open defiance hurled at any European force that should dare approach Patusen. Reports, too, had been industriously spread that Mr. Brooke never intended to return; and when he did get back to his home, he found the town guarded and watched like a besieged city. With his usual nerve and decision he withdrew his men from the forts, and sent to Seriff Sahib to inform him that he should suffer for his temerity. A letter I received from him is so characteristic, and gives so lively a description of these events, that I am tempted to print it. "Sarawak, 26th May, 1844. "My Dear Keppel, "It is useless applying a spur to a willing horse; so I will only tell you that there is plenty to do here, and the sooner you can come the better for all of us, especially your poor friends the Dyaks. Bring with you as much force as you can to attack Sakarran. "The case stands thus:--Seriff Sahib, quite frightened at Sadong since last year, enraged likewise at his loss of power and his incapability of doing mischief, collected all the Sakarran Dyaks, and was joined by many of the Dyaks of Sarebus and some Balows. He likewise had a good many Malays, and bullied every one in his vicinity. This force met at the entrance of the Sadong Delta, and committed depredations. They were not less than 200 Dyak boats, and some 15 or 20 armed Malay prahus, beside others. Just as they were collected, the Harlequin appeared off the coast, and had the Dido been with us, we might have _had them all_; but the opportunity will never again occur. Seriff Sahib, with this force, has started to-day for Sakarran, and I was not strong enough with my eight native boats to attack him. It is really greatly to be lamented, because we should most completely have crushed the head of the snake. We must, however, make the best of it. It is his intention, on his arrival at Sakarran, to fortify and wait for our attack, and in the mean time to send out his Dyaks along the coast and inland to such places as they dare venture to attack. "Come then, my dear Keppel, for there is plenty to do for all hands. I have ordered a gun-boat from Mr. Goldie, to make our force stronger; and had I possessed such a one the day before yesterday, I would have pulled away for the Sadong to-day. "My regards to all. I still propose Pepper-Pot Hall for your residence. I only wish I felt _quite sure_ that Fortune had it in store that you would be here on your return from China. That dame, however, seems to delight in playing me slippery tricks just at present; and never was the time and tide so missed before, which would have led to fortune, as the other day. All the queen's ships and all the queen's men could not bring such a chance together again. "Ever, my dear Keppel, your sincere friend, "J. Brooke. "Captain the Hon. Henry Keppel." No one could have been more disappointed or have regretted more than my gallant friend Captain Hastings, that his orders did not admit of any delay, or of his attacking that redoubtable pirate Seriff Sahib, especially as he had a small score to settle with that kind of gentry, having had his first lieutenant, H. Chads, severely wounded in two places, and several men killed, in the affair at Acheen Head. It was, however, all for the best, as the few boats that the Harlequin could have sent would have stood but a poor chance against upward of 200 war-prahus, all fitted and prepared for fight. On the 1st of August, with the Dido and Phlegethon at anchor off Sarawak, the warlike preparations were going on rapidly. I had saluted and paid my visit to Muda Hassim; he was delighted to see me again, and we went through the form of holding several conferences of war in his divan. He appears to be a good well-meaning man, well inclined toward the English, moderately honest, and, if roused, I daresay not without animal courage; and altogether, with the assistance of his clever younger brother, Budrudeen, a very fit person to govern that part of Borneo of which he is rajah. During my absence, Sarawak had been visited by H.M.S. Samarang, Captain Sir Edward Belcher, who had received directions to call on and communicate with Mr. Brooke. In dropping down the river the Samarang grounded on a long shelf of rocks, at the top of high water, and with the ebb-tide rolled over, filling with the succeeding flood. She was nearly a fortnight in this position, but was ultimately saved by the skill and almost unparalleled perseverance (aided by such assistance of men and spars as Mr. Brooke could afford) of her captain, officers, and crew--a feat that must have given the natives a good idea of what British seamen are capable of. This accident delayed for a short time a visit that was afterward made by Sir Edward Belcher, accompanied by Mr. Brooke, to Borneo Proper. A hurried inspection of the capabilities of that part of the coast took place; and the fact of there being coal on the island was ascertained. I received a second letter from Muda Hassim, of which the following is a translation: "This comes from Pangeran Muda Hassim, Rajah of Borneo, to our friend Captain Keppel, in command of her Britannic Majesty's ship. (After the usual compliments): "We beg to let our friend Captain Keppel know, that the pirates of Sakarran, whom we mentioned last year, still continue their piracies by sea and land; and that many Malays, under Seriff Sahib, who have been accustomed to send or to accompany the pirates and to share in their spoils, have gone to the Sakarran river, with a resolve of defending themselves rather than accede to our wishes that they should abandon piracy. "Last year Captain Belcher told the sultan and myself, that it would be pleasing to the Queen of England that we should repress piracy; and we signed an agreement, at his request, in which we promised to do so; and we tell our friend of the piracies and evil actions of the Sakarran people, who have, for many years past, done much mischief to trade, and make it dangerous for boats to sail along the coast; and this year many prahus, which wanted to sail to Singapore, have been afraid. We inform our friend Captain Keppel of this, as we desire to end all the piracy, and to perform our agreement with the Queen of England." _Monday, 5th August, 1844_, being the morning fixed for the departure of our expedition against the Sakarran pirates, the Phlegethon steamer weighed at 8 o'clock, and proceeded down the river to await at the mouth the collection of our force. Among those who accompanied us from Sarawak was the Pangeran Budrudeen, the intelligent brother of the rajah already noticed. This was a great and unusual event in the royal family; and the departure from the rajah's wharf, which I viewed from Mr. Brooke's house, on the opposite bank of the river, was intended to be very imposing. The barge of state was decked out with banners and canopies; all the chiefs attended, with the Arab priest Mudlana at their head, and the barge pushed off amid the firing of cannon, and a general screech, invoking the blessing of Mahomet. Having seen the last boat off, Mr. Brooke and myself took our departure in the gig, when another and last farewell salute was fired from the rajah's wharf. Three hours brought us to the steamer, anchored off the fishing huts at the mouth of the river. Here we heard that a small boat from the enemy's country had, under the pretence of trading, just been in to spy into our force, but decamped again on the appearance of the steamer. We now all got fairly away together, the smaller boats keeping near the shoals in shore, while the steamer was obliged to make an offing some miles from the coast. From the masthead we distinctly made out the small boat that had left the mouth of the river before, both pulling and sailing in the direction of the Batang Lupar, up which the Sakarran country lies; and as it was desirable that the pirates should not get information of our approach, at dusk, being well in advance, and our auxiliary force following, I dispatched Mr. Brooke's Singapore sampan and one of the Dido's cutters in chase. At half-past nine we anchored in the stream within the entrance. We were fortunate at Sarawak in picking up two excellent and intelligent pilots, who had long known the whole river, and had themselves been several times forced to serve in the boats while on their piratical excursions. _Tuesday 6th._--With the flood-tide arrived all the well appointed and imposing little fleet, and with them the cutter and sampan with two out of the three men belonging to the boat of which they had been in chase; the third having been speared by Seboo, on showing a strong inclination to run a-muck in his own boat, _i. e._ to sell his life as dearly as he could. From these men we obtained information that Seriff Sahib was fully prepared for defence--that his harem had been removed--and that he would fight to the last. We also learned that Macota, better known among us by the name of the "Serpent," and often mentioned in Mr. Brooke's journal, was the principal adviser, in whose house the councils of war were generally held. We anchored, in the afternoon, off the mouth of the river Linga; and while there we dispatched a messenger to Seriff Jaffer to caution him against giving any countenance or support to either of the Seriffs Sahib and Muller, on whose punishment and destruction we were determined. The Batang Lupar, as far as this, is a magnificent river, from three to four miles wide, and, in most parts, from five to seven fathoms water. _Wednesday, 7th._--We weighed at daylight, but were obliged to anchor again before appearing in sight of Patusen, until the tide should rise sufficiently to enable us to pass a long flat shoal, over which, during the spring-tides, a bore rushes with frightful velocity. We now collected our boats, and made our arrangements as well as we could, for attacking a place we had not yet seen. We had now a little more difficulty in keeping our native force back, as many of those who had accompanied the expedition last year had gained so much confidence that the desire of plunder exceeded the feeling of fear. After weighing at 11, with a strong tide sweeping us up, we were not many minutes in coming in sight of the fortifications of Patusen; and indeed they were not to be despised. There were five of them, two not quite finished. Getting suddenly into six feet water, we anchored the steamer; not so formidable a berth, although well within musket-range, as we might have taken up had I been aware of the increasing depth of water nearer the town; but we approached so rapidly there was no time to wait the interpretation of the pilot's information. The Dido and Phlegethon's boats were not long in forming alongside. They were directed to pull in shore, and then attack the forts in succession; but my gallant first-lieutenant, Wade, who had the command, was the first to break the line, and pull directly in the face of the largest fort. His example was followed by the others; and dividing, each boat pulled for that which appeared to the officer in command to be the one most likely to make a good fight. The forts were the first to open fire on both steamer and boats, which was quickly and smartly returned. It is impossible to imagine a prettier sight than it was from the top of the Phlegethon's paddle-box. It was my intention to have fired on the enemy from the steamer, so as to draw their attention off the boats; but owing to the defective state of the detonating priming-tubes, the guns from the vessel did not go off, and the boats had all the glory to themselves. They never once checked in their advance; but the moment they touched the shore the crews rushed up, entering the forts at the embrasures, while the pirates fled by the rear. In this sharp and short affair we had but one man killed, poor John Ellis, a fine young man, and captain of the main-top in the Dido. He was cut in two by a cannon-shot while in the act of ramming home a cartridge in the bow-gun of the Jolly Bachelor. Standing close to poor Ellis at the fatal moment was a fine promising young middy, Charles Johnson, a nephew of Mr. Brooke's, who fortunately escaped unhurt. This, and two others badly wounded, were the only accidents on our side. Our native allies were not long in following our men on shore. The killed and wounded on the part of the pirates must have been considerable. Our followers got several heads. There were no fewer than sixty-four brass guns of different sizes, beside many iron, found in and about the forts: the latter we spiked and threw into the river. The town was very extensive; and after being well looted, made a glorious blaze. Our Sarawak followers, both Malays and Dyaks, behaved with the greatest gallantry, and dashed in under the fire of the forts. In fact, like their country, anything might be made of them under a good government; and such is their confidence in Mr. Brooke's judgment, and their attachment to his person, that he might safely defy in his own stronghold the attacks of any foreign power. After our men had dined, and had a short rest during the heat of the day, we landed our whole force in two divisions--and a strange but formidable-looking force they made--to attack a town situated about two miles up, on the left bank of a small river called the Grahan, the entrance to which had been guarded by the forts; and immediately after their capture the tide had fallen too low for our boats to get up. Facing the stream, too, was a long stockade; so that we determined on attacking the place in the rear, which, had the pirates only waited to receive us, would have caused a very interesting skirmish. They, however, decamped, leaving everything behind them. In this town we found Seriff Sahib's residence, and, among other things, all his curious and extensive wardrobe. It was ridiculous to see our Dyaks dressed out in all the finery and plunder of this noted pirate, whose very name, a few days previous, would have made them tremble. Goats and poultry there were in abundance. We likewise found a magazine in the rear of the seriff's house, containing about two tons of gunpowder; also a number of small barrels of fine powder, branded "Dartford," in exactly the same state as it had left the manufactory in England. It being too troublesome and heavy to convey on board the steamer, and each of our native followers staggering up to his knees in mud, under a heavy load of plunder, I had it thrown into the river. It was evident how determined the chief had been to defend himself, as, beside the defences already completed, eight others, in different states of forwardness, were in the course of erection; and had the attack been delayed a few weeks, Patusen would not have been carried by boats without considerable loss of life. It was the key to this extensive river; the resort of the worst of pirates; and each chief had contributed his share of guns and ammunition toward its fortification and defence. We returned to our boats and evening meal rather fatigued, but much pleased with our day's work, after ascending nearly seventy miles from the mouth of the river. The habitations of 5000 pirates had been burnt to the ground; four strong forts destroyed, together with several hundred boats; upward of sixty brass cannons captured, and about a fourth that number of iron spiked and thrown into the river, beside vast quantities of other arms and ammunition; and the powerful Seriff Sahib, the great pirate-patron for the last twenty years, ruined past recovery, and driven to hide his diminished head in the jungle. The 8th and 9th were passed in burning and destroying the rest of the straggling town, and a variety of smaller boats, which were very numerous. I had also an account to settle with that cunning rascal Macota, for his aiding and abetting Seriff Sahib in his piracies. He had located himself very pleasantly near a bend in the river, about a mile above Seriff Sahib's settlement, and was in the act of building extensive fortifications, when I had the satisfaction of anticipating the visit and some of the compliments he would have conferred on my friend Mr. Brooke at Sarawak. Budrudeen, the rajah's brother, had likewise been duped by this fellow, and was exceedingly anxious to insert the blade of a very sharp and beautiful kris into the body of his late friend. Mr. Brooke, however, was anxious to save his life, which he afterward had the satisfaction of doing. I shall never forget the tiger-like look of the young Pangeran when we landed together in the hopes of surprising the "Serpent" in his den; but he was too quick for us, having decamped with his followers, and in so great a hurry as to leave all his valuables behind--among them a Turkish pipe, some chairs once belonging to the Royalist, and other presents from Mr. Brooke. Everything belonging to him was burnt or destroyed save some handsome brass guns. There was one of about 12 cwt. that had been lent by the sultan when Macota was in favor, and which I returned to Budrudeen for his brother. We were here joined by a large number of the Linga Dyaks, the same force that had joined us the year previous, while up the Sarebus, but unaccompanied by Seriff Jaffer, of whom it was not quite clear that he had not been secretly aiding the pirates. I sent them back with assurances to their chiefs that they should not be molested unless they gave shelter or protection to either Seriff Sahib or Muller. Seriff Sahib, with a considerable body of followers, escaped inland in the direction of the mountains, from the other side of which he would be able to communicate with the river Linga. Macota was obliged to fly up the river toward the Undop, on which the village and residence of Seriff Sahib's brother, Seriff Muller, was situated. Having destroyed every boat and sampan, as well as house or hut, on the 10th, as soon as the tide had risen sufficiently to take us over the shoals, we weighed, in the steamer, for the country of the Sakarran Dyaks, having sent the boats on before with the first of the flood. About fifteen miles above Patusen is the branch of the river called the Undop: up this river I dispatched Lieutenant Turnour, with Mr. Comber, in the Jolly Bachelor, and a division of our native boats, while we proceeded to where the river again branches off to the right and left, as on the tongue of land so formed we understood we should find a strong fort; beside, it was the highest point to which we could attempt to take the steamer. The branch to the left is called the Sakarran; that to the right retains the name of Lupar, inhabited chiefly by Sakarrans. We found the place deserted and the houses empty. Knowing that these people depended almost entirely for protection on the strongly fortified position at Patusen, I did not expect any similar opposition from either Seriff Muller or the desperate bloodthirsty Sakarrans, and consequently divided my force into three division--the one, already mentioned, under Lieutenant Turnour, up the Undop; another, under Mr. D'Aeth, up the Lupar; while Lieutenant Wade, accompanied by Mr. Brooke, ascended the Sakarran. I had not calculated on the disturbed and excited state in which I found the country; and two wounded men having been sent back from the Undop branch with accounts of the pirates, chiefly Malays, who were collected in great numbers, both before and in the rear of our small force; and an attempt having been made to cut off the bearer of this information, Nakoda Bahar, who had had a very narrow escape, and had no idea of taking back an answer unless attended by a European force,--I determined on sending assistance. But I had some difficulty in mustering another crew from the steamer, and was obliged to leave my friend Capt. Scott, with only the idlers, rather critically situated. I deemed it advisable to re-collect my whole force; and before proceeding to the punishment of the Sakarrans, to destroy the power and influence of Seriff Muller, whose town was situated about twenty miles up, and was said to contain a population of 1500 Malays, independently of the surrounding Dyak tribes. Having dispatched boats with directions to Lieutenant Wade and Mr. D'Aeth to join us in the Undop, I proceeded in my gig to the scene of action, leaving the steamer to maintain as strict a blockade of the Sakarran and Lupar branches as, with their reduced force, they were capable of. On my joining Lieutenant Turnour, I found him just returned from a very spirited attack which he had made, assisted by Mr. Comber, on a stockade situated on the summit of a steep hill; Mr. Allen, the master, being still absent on a similar service, on the opposite side of the river. The gallant old chief Patingi Ali was likewise absent, in pursuit of the enemy that had been driven from the stockades, with whom he had had a hand-to-hand fight, the whole of which--being on the rising ground--was witnessed by our boats' crews, who could not resist hailing his return from his gallant achievement with three hearty British cheers. This had the effect of giving such an impulse to his courage, that, in a subsequent affair, it unhappily caused a serious loss among this active and useful branch of our force. We had now to unite in cutting our way through a barrier across the river similar to that described in the attack on the Sarebus, which having passed, we brought up for the night close to a still more serious obstacle, being a number of huge trees felled, the branches of which meeting midway in the river, formed apparently an insurmountable obstacle to our progress. But "patience and perseverance overcome all difficulties;" and by night only three of the trees remained to be cleared away. We were now within a short distance of their town, so that we could distinctly hear the noise and confusion which our advance had occasioned. On the right bank, and about fifty yards in advance of the barrier, stood a farm-house, which we considered it prudent to occupy for the night, for which advanced post we collected about fifty volunteers. These consisted of Messrs. Steward, Williamson, and Comber; a corporal and four marines; my gig's crew; and a medley of picked men from our Dyak and Malay followers; not forgetting my usual and trusty attendant John Eager with his bugle, the sounding of which was to be the signal for the whole force to come to the rescue, in the event of surprise--not at all improbable from the nature of our warfare and our proximity to the enemy's town. And here a most ludicrous scene occurred during the night. Having placed our sentries and look-out men, and given "Tiga" as the watchword, we were, shortly after midnight, suddenly aroused from sound sleep by a Dyak war-yell, which was immediately responded to by the whole force. It was pitch dark: the interior of our farmhouse, the partitions of which had been removed for the convenience of stowage, was crowded to excess. In a moment every man was on his legs: swords, spears, and krisses dimly glittered over our heads. It is impossible to describe the excitement and confusion of the succeeding ten minutes: one and all believed that we had been surrounded by the enemy, and cut off from our main party. I had already thrust the muzzle of my pistol close to the heads of several natives, whom, in the confusion, I had mistaken for Sakarrans; and as each in his turn called out "Tiga," I withdrew my weapon to apply it to somebody else; until, at last, we found that we were all "Tigas." I had prevented Eager, more than once, from sounding the alarm, which, from the first, he had not ceased to press me for permission to do. The Dyak yell had, however, succeeded in throwing the whole force afloat into a similar confusion, and not hearing the signal, they concluded that they, and not we, were the party attacked. The real cause we afterward ascertained to have arisen from the alarm of a Dyak, who dreamt, or imagined, that he felt a spear thrust upward through the bamboo-flooring of our building, and immediately gave his diabolical yell. The confusion was ten times as much as it would have been had the enemy really been there. So ended the adventures of the night in the wild jungle of Borneo. CHAPTER XIX. Seriff Muller's town sacked.--Ascend the river in pursuit of the enemy.--Gallant exploit of Lieutenant Wade.--His death and funeral.--Interesting anecdote of him.--Ascend the Sakarran branch.--Native boats hemmed in by pirates, and their crews slaughtered to a man.--Karangan destroyed.--Captain Sir E. Belcher arrives in the Samarang's boats.--Return to Sarawak.--New expedition against Seriff Sahib and Jaffer.--Macota captured.--Flight of Seriff Sahib.--Conferences.--Seriff Jaffer deposed.--Mr. Brooke's speech in the native tongue.--End of the expedition, and return to Sarawak.--The Dido sails for England. At daylight we were joined by Lieutenant Wade and Mr. Brooke--their division making a very acceptable increase to our force--and by 8 o'clock the last barrier was cut through between us and Seriff Muller's devoted town. With the exception of his own house, from which some eight or nine Malays were endeavoring to move his effects, the whole place was deserted. They made no fight; and an hour afterward the town had been plundered and burnt. The only lives lost were a few unfortunates, who happened to come within range of our musketry in their exertions to save some of their master's property. A handsome large boat, belonging to that chief, was the only thing saved; and this I presented to Budrudeen. After a short delay in catching our usual supply of goats and poultry, with which the place abounded, we proceeded up the river in chase of the chief and his people; and here again we had to encounter the same obstacle presented by the felled trees thrown across the river--if possible of increased difficulty, owing to their greater size and the narrow breadth of the stream; but although delayed we were not to be beaten. We ascertained that the pirates had retreated to a Dyak village, situated on the summit of a hill, some twenty-five miles higher up the Undop, five or six miles only of which we had succeeded in ascending, as a most dreary and rainy night closed in, during which we were joined by Mr. D'Aeth and his division from the Lupar river. The following morning, the 13th of August, at daybreak, we again commenced our toilsome work. With the gig and the lighter boats we succeeded better; and I should have despaired of the heavier boats ever getting up, had they not been assisted by an opportune and sudden rise of the tide, to the extent of twelve or fourteen feet, though with this we had to contend against a considerably increased strength of current. It was on this day that my ever active and zealous first lieutenant, Charles Wade, jealous of the advanced position of our light boats, obtained a place in my gig. That evening the Phlegethon's first and second cutters, the Dido's two cutters, and their gigs, were fortunate enough to pass a barrier composed of trees evidently but recently felled; from which we concluded ourselves to be so near the enemy, that, by pushing forward as long as we could possibly see, we might prevent further impediments from being thrown in our way. This we did; but at 9 P.M. arriving at a broad expanse of the river, and being utterly unable to trace our course, we anchored our advanced force for the night. On Wednesday, 14th, we again pushed on at daylight. We had gained information of two landing-places leading to the Dyak village on the hill, round three-fourths of the foot of which the Undop flowed. The first landing-place we had no trouble in discovering, from the number of deserted boats collected near it. Leaving these to be looted by our followers, we proceeded in search of the second, which we understood was situated more immediately under the village, and which, having advanced without our guides, we had much difficulty in finding. The circuit of the base of the hill was above five miles. In traversing this distance, we had repeated skirmishing with straggling boats of the enemy, upon whom we came unexpectedly. During this warfare, Patingi Ali, who, with his usual zeal, had here come up, bringing a considerable native force of both Malays and Dyaks, was particularly on the alert; and while we in the gig attacked the large war-prahu of Seriff Muller himself--the resistance of whose followers was only the discharge of their muskets, after which they threw themselves into the river, part only effecting their escape--the Patingi nearly succeeded in capturing that chief in person. He had escaped from his prahu into a remarkably beautiful and fast-pulling sampan, in which he was chased by old Ali, and afterward only saved his life by throwing himself into the water, and swimming to the jungle; and it was with no small pride that the gallant old chief appropriated the boat to his own use. In the prahu were captured two large brass guns, two smaller ones, a variety of small arms, ammunition, provisions, colors and personal property, among which were also two pair of handsome jars of English manufacture. After this, having proceeded some considerable distance without finding the second landing-place, we put in close to a clear green spot, with the intention of getting our breakfasts, and of waiting the arrival of the other boat with the guides. While our crew were busily employed cooking, Lieutenant Wade and myself fancied we heard the suppressed voices of many people not far distant, and taking up our guns we crept into the jungle. We had not penetrated many yards before I came in sight of a mass of boats concealed in a snug little inlet, the entrance to which had escaped our notice. These were filled with the piratical Dyaks and Malays, and on shore at various points were placed armed sentinels. My first impulse was to conceal ourselves until the arrival of our force; but my rash, though gallant friend deemed otherwise; and without noticing the caution of my upheld hand, dashed in advance, discharging his gun, and calling upon our men to follow. It is impossible to conceive the consternation and confusion this our sudden sally occasioned among the pirates. The confused noise and scrambling from their boats I can only liken to that of a suddenly-roused flock of wild ducks. Our attack from the point whence it came was evidently unexpected; and it is my opinion that they calculated on our attacking the hill, if we did so at all, from the nearest landing-place, without pulling round the other five miles, as the whole attention of their scouts appeared to be directed toward that quarter. A short distance above them was a small encampment, probably erected for the convenience of their chiefs, as in it we found writing materials, two or three desks of English manufacture, on the brass plate of one of which, I afterward noticed, was engraved the name of "_Mr. Wilson_." To return to the pirates: with our force, such as it was--nine in number--and headed by Lieutenant Wade, we pursued our terrified enemy, who had not the sense or courage to rally in their judiciously selected and naturally protected encampment, but continued their retreat (firing on us from the jungle) toward the Dyak village on the summit of the hill. We here collected our force, reloaded our fire-arms; and Lieutenant Wade, seeing from this spot the arrival at the landing-place of the other boats, again rushed on in pursuit. Before arriving at the foot of the steep ascent on the summit of which the before-mentioned Dyak village stood, we had to cross a small open space of about sixty yards, exposed to the fire from the village as well as the surrounding jungle. It was before crossing this plain that I again cautioned my gallant friend to await the arrival of his men, of whom he was far in advance; and almost immediately afterward he fell mortally wounded at my feet, having been struck by two rifle-shots, and died instantaneously. I remained with the body until our men came up, and giving it in charge, we carried the place on the height without a check or further accident. The Dyak village we now occupied I would have spared, as on no occasion had we noticed any of the tribe fighting against us; but it was by shot fired from it that poor Wade was killed, and the work of destruction commenced simultaneously with the arrival of our men. It was most gratifying to me throughout the expedition to observe the friendly rivalry and emulation between the crews of the Phlegethon and the Dido's boats. On this occasion the former had the glory of first gaining the height; and one of the officers of the former, Mr. Simpson, wounded, with a pistol-shot, a man armed with a rifle, supposed to have been the person who had slain our first-lieutenant. I may here narrate a circumstance, from which one may judge of the natural kind-heartedness of my lamented friend. During the heat of the pursuit, although too anxious to advance to await the arrival of his men, he nevertheless found time to conceal in a place of security a poor terrified Malay girl whom he overtook, and who, by an imploring look, touched his heart. The village and the piratical boats destroyed, and the excitement over, we had time to reflect on the loss we had sustained of one so generally beloved as the leader of the expedition had been among us all. Having laid the body in a canoe, with the British union-jack for a pall, we commenced our descent of the river with very different spirits from those with which we had ascended only a few hours before. In the evening, with our whole force assembled, we performed the last sad ceremony of committing the body to the deep, with all the honors that time and circumstance would allow. I read that beautiful, impressive service from a prayer-book, the only one, by the by, in the expedition, which he himself had brought, as he said, "in case of accident." Before we again got under weigh, several Malay families, no longer in dread of their piratical chief, Seriff Muller, who had fled nobody knew whither, gave themselves up to us as prisoners, trusting to the mercy of a white man; the first instance of any of them having done so. We heard, also, that Macota had retreated with the seriff; and on examination we found the papers captured in the encampment belonged to them, exposing several deep intrigues and false statements addressed to the sultan, the purport of which was to impress his mind with the belief of a hostile intention on the part of the British government toward his country. We brought-up for the night off the still-burning ruins of Seriff Muller's town. On Thursday the 15th we again reached the steamer. We found her prepared for action, having been much annoyed during the night by the continued Dyak war-yells--sounds, to uninitiated ears, as unpleasant as those of musketry. Having driven away the two principal instigators and abettors of all the piracies committed along the coast of Borneo and elsewhere, and destroyed their strongholds, it now remained for us to punish the pirates themselves as far as lay in our power. The Sakarran Dyaks being the only ones now remaining who had not received convincing proofs that their brutal and inhuman trade would be no longer allowed, the 15th and 16th were passed on board the steamer, to rest the men after the severe fatigue encountered up the Undop, and in making preparations for an advance up the Sakarran. During the night of the 16th, several of our native followers were wounded. Their boats not being furnished with anchors, and the river being deep, they were obliged to make fast to the bank, which in the dark afforded great facility for the enemy to creep down through the jungle unperceived, so close as to fire a shot and even thrust their spears through the thin mat covering of the boats. One poor fellow received a shot in his lungs, from which he died the following day; a Dyak likewise died from a spear-wound; and in the morning we witnessed the pile forming for burning the Dyak, and the coffin making for conveying the body of the Malay to Sarawak, his native place; both parties having an equal horror of their dead falling into the hands of the enemy, although differing in their mode of disposing of them. On Saturday, the 17th, the expedition, consisting of the Dido's pinnace, her two cutters and gig, the Jolly Bachelor, and the Phlegethon's first and second cutters and gig, started up the Sakarran. A small division of light native boats, under the command of the brave old Patingi Ali, were selected to keep as a reconnoitering party with our leading boats, while the remaining native force, of above thirty boats, followed as a reserve. We advanced the first day some twenty miles without so much as seeing a native, although our progress was considerably delayed by stopping to burn farm-houses, and a number of war-prahus found concealed in the jungle or long grass on either side of the river. We brought up early in the afternoon, for the purpose of strongly fortifying ourselves, both ashore and afloat, against surprise before the night set in, by which time it would have taken a well-disciplined and powerful force to have dislodged us. This evening we had unusually fine weather; and we squatted down to our meal of curry and rice with better appetites and higher spirits than we had done for some days. We advanced the following day: and although we reached several villages, the grain had been removed from them all; which, in all probability, was done immediately upon their hearing of the fall of their supposed impregnable Patusen. In the evening we took the same precautions as on the preceding night, considering that our enemies were not to be despised. Owing to heavy rains which fell during the night, and caused a strong current, our progress was considerably retarded. The scenery was beautiful--more so than in any of the rivers we had yet visited. We likewise now repeatedly fell in with small detachments of the enemy, and spears were thrown from the banks, which added considerably to our excitement and amusement. On every point we found the remains of the preceding night's watch-fires, so that news of our approach would have been conveyed rapidly along. While leading in the gig with a select few of our followers, we came suddenly on a boat full of warriors, all gorgeously dressed, and apparently perfectly unconscious of our approach. The discharge of our muskets and the capsizing of their war-boat was the work of an instant; but most of their crew saved their lives by escaping into the jungle. This evening, Sunday, the 18th, we experienced some difficulty in finding a suitable place for our bivouac. While examining the most eligible-looking spot on the bank of the river, the crew of one of the Phlegethon's boats, having crept up the opposite bank, came suddenly on a party of Dyaks, who saluted them with a war-yell and a shower of spears; and it was absurd to see the way in which they precipitated themselves into the water again to escape from this unexpected danger. The Dyaks, too, appear to have been equally surprised. The place we selected for the night was a large house about forty yards from the edge of the river; and for a musket-range around which we had not much difficulty in clearing the ground. Here we all united our different messes, and passed a jovial evening. The night, however, set in with a most fearful thunder-storm, accompanied by the most vivid flashes of lightning I ever witnessed. The rain continued to fall in torrents; it cleared up at daylight, when we proceeded. As yet the banks of the river had been a continued garden, with sugarcane plantations and banana-trees in abundance. As we advanced, the scenery assumed a wilder and still more beautiful appearance, presenting high steep points, with large overhanging trees, and occasionally forming into pretty picturesque bays, with sloping banks. At other times we approached narrow gorges, looking so dark that, until past, you almost doubted there being a passage through. We were in hopes that this morning we should have reached their capital, a place called Karangan, supposed to be about ten miles farther on. At 9 o'clock Mr. Brooke, who was with me in the gig, stopped to breakfast with young Jenkins in the second cutter. Not expecting to meet with any opposition for some miles, I gave permission to Patingi Ali to advance cautiously with his light division, and with positive instructions to fall back upon the first appearance of any natives. As the stream was running down very strong, we held on to the bank, waiting for the arrival of the second cutter. Our pinnace and second gig having both passed up, we had remained about a quarter of an hour, when the report of a few musket-shots told us that the pirates had been fallen in with. We immediately pushed on; and as we advanced, the increased firing from our boats, and the war-yells of some thousand Dyaks, let us know that an engagement had really commenced. It would be difficult to describe the scene as I found it. About twenty boats were jammed together, forming one confused mass; some bottom up; the bows or sterns of others only visible; mixed up, pell-mell, with huge rafts; and among which were nearly all our advanced little division. Headless trunks, as well as heads without bodies, were lying about in all directions; parties were engaged hand to hand, spearing and krissing each other; others were striving to swim for their lives; entangled in the common _mêlée_ were our advanced boats; while on both banks thousands of Dyaks were rushing down to join in the slaughter, hurling their spears and stones on the boats below. For a moment I was at a loss what steps to take for rescuing our people from the embarrassed position in which they were, as the whole mass (through which there was no passage) were floating down the stream, and the addition of fresh boats arriving only increased the confusion. Fortunately, at this critical moment one of the rafts, catching the stump of a tree, broke this floating bridge, making a passage, through which (my gig being propelled by paddles instead of oars) I was enabled to pass. It occurred to Mr. Brooke and myself simultaneously, that, by advancing in the gig, we should draw the attention of the pirates toward us, so as to give time for the other boats to clear themselves. This had the desired effect. The whole force on shore turned, as if to secure what they rashly conceived to be their prize. We now advanced mid-channel: spears and stones assailed us from both banks. My friend Brooke's gun would not go off; so giving him the yoke-lines, he steered the boat while I kept up a rapid fire. Mr. Allen, in the second gig, quickly coming up, opened upon them, from a congreve-rocket tube, such a destructive fire as caused them to retire panic-struck behind the temporary barriers where they had concealed themselves previous to the attack upon Patingi Ali, and from whence they continued, for some twenty minutes, to hurl their spears and other missiles. Among the latter may be mentioned short lengths of bamboo, one end heavily loaded with stone, and thrown with great force and precision; the few fire-arms of which they were possessed were of but little use to them after the first discharge, the operation of reloading, in their inexperienced hands, requiring a longer time than the hurling of some twenty spears. The sumpitan was likewise freely employed by these pirates; but although several of our men belonging to the pinnace were struck, no fatal results ensued, from the dextrous and expeditious manner in which the wounded parts were excised by Mr. Beith, the assistant-surgeon; any poison that might remain being afterward sucked out by one of the comrades of the wounded men. As our force increased, the pirates retreated from their position, and could not again muster courage to rally. Their loss must have been considerable; ours might have been light, had poor old Patingi Ali attended to orders. It appears that the Patingi (over-confident, and probably urged on by Mr. Steward, who, unknown to me, was concealed in Ali's beat when application was made by that chief for permission to proceed in advance for the purpose of reconnoitering), instead of falling back, as particularly directed, on the first appearance of any of the enemy, made a dash, followed by his little division of boats, through the narrow pass above described. As soon as he had done so, huge rafts of bamboo were lanched across the river, so as to cut off his retreat. Six large war-prahus, probably carrying 100 men each, then bore down--three on either side--on his devoted followers; and one only of a crew of seventeen that manned his boat escaped to tell the tale. When last seen by our advanced boats, Mr. Steward and Patingi Ali were in the act (their own boats sinking) of boarding the enemy. They were doubtless overpowered and killed, with twenty-nine others, who lost their lives on this occasion. Our wounded in all amounted to fifty-six. A few miles higher up was the town and capital of Karangan, which place it was their business to defend, and ours to destroy, and this we succeeded in effecting without further opposition. We ascended a short distance above this, but found the river impracticable for the further progress of the boats; but our object having been achieved, the expedition may be said to have closed, as no more resistance was offered; so we dropped leisurely down the river, and that evening reached our resting-place of the previous night: but having burnt the house in the morning, we were obliged to sleep in our boats, with a strong guard on shore. Attempts were made to molest the native boats by hurling spears into them from the jungle under cover of the night; but after a few discharges of musketry the enemy retired, leaving us to enjoy another stormy and rainy night as we best could. On the 20th we reached the steamer, where we remained quiet all the next day, attending to the wounded, and ascertaining the exact extent of our loss. On the 22d we again reached Patusen. We found everything in the same wretched state as when we left; and a pile of firewood, previously cut for the use of the steamer, had not been removed. After dark a storm of thunder, lightning, and heavy rain, came on as usual, and with it a few mishaps. A boat belonging to the old Tumangong was capsized by the bore, by which his plunder, including a large brass gun, was lost, and the crew with difficulty saved their lives. At eight we heard the report of a gun, which was again repeated much nearer at nine; and before a signal-rocket could be fired, or a light shown, we were astonished by being hailed by the boats of a British man-of-war; and the next moment Captain Sir E. Belcher, having been assisted by a rapid tide, came alongside the steamer with the welcome news of having brought our May letters from England. On the arrival of the Samarang off the Morotaba, Sir Edward heard of the loss we had sustained; and, with his usual zeal and activity, came at once to our assistance, having brought his boats no less than 120 miles in about thirty hours. At the moment of his joining us, our second mishap occurred. The night, as previously mentioned, was pitch dark, and a rapid current running, when the cry of "a man overboard" caused a sensation difficult to describe. All available boats were immediately dispatched in search; and soon afterward we were cheered by the sound of "all right." It appears that the news of the arrival of the mail was not long in spreading throughout our little fleet, when Mr. D'Aeth, leaving the first cutter in a small sampan, capsized in coming alongside the steamer; the man in the bow (who composed the crew) saved himself by catching hold of the nearest boat; Mr. D'Aeth would have been drowned had he not been an excellent swimmer. This was not the last of our mishaps; for we had no sooner arranged ourselves and newly-arrived visitors from the Samarang comfortably on board the steamer from the pelting rain, than the accustomed and quick ear of Mr. Brooke heard the cry of natives in distress. Jumping into his Singapore sampan, he pushed off to their assistance, and returned shortly afterward, having picked up three, half drowned, of our Dyak followers, whom he had found clinging to the floating trunk of a tree. They too had been capsized by the bore; when, out of eleven composing the crew, only these three were saved--although the Dyaks are invariably expert swimmers. On the 23d, after waiting to obtain meridian observations, we moved down as far as the mouth of the river Linga, and then dispatched one of our Malay chiefs to the town of Bunting to summon Seriff Jaffer to a conference. This, however, he declined on a plea of ill health, sending assurance, at the same time, of his goodwill and inclination to assist us in our endeavors to suppress piracy. On the night of the 24th, we once again reached Sarawak, where the rejoicings of the previous year, when we returned from a successful expedition, were repeated. On the third evening after our return, we were just settling down to enjoy a little rest, having got our sick and wounded into comfortable quarters, and were beginning heartily to indulge in the comforts of a bed after our fatigue and harassing duties in open boats during the previous three weeks, when information arrived that Seriff Sahib had taken refuge in the Linga river, where, assisted by Seriff Jaffer, he was again collecting his followers. No time was to be lost; and on the 28th, with the addition of the Samarang's boats, we once more started, to crush, if possible, this persevering and desperate pirate; and, in the middle of the night, came to an anchor inside the Linga river. When our expedition had been watched safely outside the Batang Lupar, on its return to Sarawak, all those unfortunate families that had concealed themselves in the jungle, after the destruction of the different towns of Patusen and Undop, had emerged from their hiding-places, and, embarking on rafts, half-ruined boats, or, in short, anything that would float, were in the act of tiding and working their passage toward the extensive and flourishing town of Bunting. Their dismay can well be imagined, when, at daylight on the morning of the 29th, they found themselves carried by the tide close alongside the long, black, terror-spreading steamer, and in the midst of our augmented fleet. Escape to them was next to hopeless; nor did the softer sex seem much to mind the change--probably thinking that to be swallowed up by the white man was not much worse than dying in the jungle of starvation. I need not say that, instead of being molested, they were supplied with such provisions and assistance as our means would permit us to afford, and then allowed to pass quietly on; in addition to which we dispatched several of our native followers into the Batang Lupar, to inform the poor fugitives that our business was with the chiefs and instigators of piracy, and not to molest the misguided natives. With the ebb tide a large number of boats came down from the town--the news of our arrival having reached them during the night--containing the principal chiefs, with assurances of their pacific intentions, and welcoming us with presents of poultry, goats, fruit, &c., which we received, paying the fair market-price for them, either by way of barter or in hard dollars. They assured us that Seriff Sahib should not be received among them; but that they had heard of his having arrived at Pontranini, on a small tributary stream some fifty miles above their town. We immediately decided on proceeding in pursuit before he could have time to establish himself in any force. It was also evident that the Balow Dyaks, who inhabit this part of the country, were decidedly in favor of our operations against Seriff Sahib, although afraid--on account of Seriff Jaffer and his Malays--to express their opinions openly. We also ascertained that Macota, with a remnant of his followers, was hourly expected in the mouth of the river, from the jungle, into which he had been driven during the fight on the Undop heights. Knowing that it would fare badly with this treacherous and cunning, although now harmless chief, should he fall into the hands of any of our native followers, I dispatched two boats to look out for and bring him to us alive. This they succeeded in doing, securing him in a deep muddy jungle, into which he had thrown himself upon perceiving the approach of our men. Leaving him a prisoner on board the Phlegethon, we, with the floodtide pushed forward in pursuit of Seriff Sahib. For two days we persevered in dragging our boats, for the distance of twenty miles, up a small jungly creek, which, to all appearance, was impassable for anything but canoes. But it had the desired effect, proving to the natives what determination could achieve in accomplishing our object, even beyond the hopes of our sanguine Balow Dyak guides. The consequence was, that Seriff Sahib made a final and precipitate retreat, across the mountains, in the direction of the Pontiana river. So close were we on his rear--harassed as he was by the Balow Dyaks, who had refused him common means of subsistence--that he threw away his sword, and left behind him a child whom he had hitherto carried in the jungle; and this once dreaded chief was now driven, single and unattended, out of the reach of doing any further mischief. The boats returned, and took up a formidable position off the town of Bunting, where we summoned Seriff Jaffer to a conference. To this he was obliged to attend, as the natives had learnt that we were not to be trifled with, and would have forced him on board rather than have permitted their village to be destroyed. With Pangeran Budrudeen, acting as the representative of the sultan, Seriff Jaffer was obliged to resign all pretensions to the government of the province over which he had hitherto held sway, since it was considered, from his being a Malay and from his relationship to Seriff Sahib, that he was an unsafe person to be intrusted With so important a post. A second conference on shore took place, at which the chiefs of all the surrounding country attended, when the above sentence was confirmed. On this occasion I had the satisfaction of witnessing what must have been--from the effect I observed it to have produced on the hearers--a fine piece of oratory, delivered by Mr. Brooke in the native tongue, with a degree of fluency I had never witnessed before, even in a Malay. The purport of it, as I understood, was, to point out emphatically the horrors of piracy on the one hand, which it was the determination of the British government to suppress, and on the other hand, the blessings arising from peace and trade, which it was equally our wish to cultivate; and it concluded by fully explaining, that the measures lately adopted by us against piracy were for the protection of all the peaceful communities along the coast. So great was the attention bestowed during the delivery of this speech that the dropping of a pin might have been heard. From these people many assurances were received of their anxiety and willingness to cooperate with us in our laudable undertaking; and one and all were alike urgent that the government of their river should be transferred to the English. On the 4th September the force again reached Sarawak, and thus terminated a most successful expedition against the worst pirates on the coast of Borneo. We found the Samarang off the Morotaba entrance, when Mr. Brooke and myself became the guests of Sir Edward Belcher for several days, during which time we made excursions to all the small islands in that neighborhood, discovered large quantities of excellent oysters, and had some very good hog-shooting. Afterward, accompanied by the boats of the Samarang, we paid a visit to the Lundu Dyaks, which gave them great delight. They entertained us at a large feast, when the whole of the late expedition was fought over again, and a war-dance with the newly-acquired heads of the Sakarran pirates was performed for our edification. Later in the evening, two of the elder chiefs got up, and, walking up and down the long gallery, commenced a dialogue, for the information, as they said, of the women, children, and poorer people who were obliged to remain at home. It consisted in putting such questions to one another as should elicit all the particulars of the late expedition, such as, what had become of different celebrated Sakarran chiefs (whom they named)? how had they been destroyed? how did they die? by whom had they been slain? &c. All these inquiries received the most satisfactory replies, in which the heroic conduct of themselves and the white men was largely dwelt upon. While this was performing, the two old warriors, with the heads of their enemies suspended from their shoulders like a soldier's cartouch-box, stumped up and down, striking the floor with their clubs, and getting very excited. How long it lasted none of our party could tell, as one and all dropped off to sleep during the recital. Mr. Brooke has given so good a description of these kind and simple people that I need not here farther notice them. Shortly after our return to the Samarang, she, getting short of provisions, sailed for Singapore, and Mr. Brooke and myself went up to Sarawak, where the Dido was still lying. Great rejoicings and firing of cannon, as on a former occasion, announced our return; and, after paying our respects to the rajah, we visited the Tumangong and Patingis. A curious ceremony is generally performed on the return of the chiefs from a fortunate war expedition, which is not only done by way of a welcome back, but is supposed to insure equal success on the next excursion. This ceremony was better performed at the old Tumangong's than at the other houses. After entering the principal room we seated ourselves in a semicircle on the mat floor, when the old chief's three wives advanced to welcome us, with their female relatives, all richly and prettily dressed in sarongs suspended from the waist, and silken scarfs worn gracefully over one shoulder, just hiding or exposing as much of their well-shaped persons as they thought most becoming. Each of these ladies in succession taking a handful of yellow rice, threw it over us, repeating some mystical words, and dilating on our heroic deeds, and then they sprinkled our heads with gold-dust. This is generally done by grating a lump of gold against a dried piece of shark's skin. Two of these ladies bore the pretty names of Inda and Amina. Inda was young, pretty, and graceful; and although she had borne her husband no children, she was supposed to have much greater influence over him than the other two. Report said that she had a temper, and that the Tumangong was much afraid of her; but this may have been only Sarawak scandal. She brought her portion of gold-dust already grated, and wrapped up in a piece of paper, from which she took a pinch; and in reaching to sprinkle some over my head, she, by accident, put the prettiest little foot on to my hand, which, as she wore neither shoes nor stockings, she did not hurt sufficiently to cause me to withdraw it. After this ceremony we (the warriors) feasted and smoked together, attended on by the ladies. Another conference with Muda Hassim took place, and I subsequently quitted Sarawak for Singapore, intending to re-provision the Dido at that port, and then return to Sarawak, in order to convey the rajah and his suite to Borneo Proper. At Singapore, however, I found orders for England, and sailed accordingly; but the service alluded to was readily performed by Sir Edward Belcher, in H.M.S. Samarang, accompanied by the H. C.'s steamer Phlegethon. On my return to England I had the gratification to learn that Mr. Brooke had been appointed agent for the British government in Borneo, and that Captain Bethune, R.N., C.B., had been dispatched on special service to that island: events I cannot but consider of great importance to the best interests of humanity, and to the extension of British commerce throughout the Malayan Archipelago. CHAPTER XX. Later portion of Mr. Brooke's Journal.--Departure of Captain Keppel, and arrival of Sir E. Belcher.--Mr. Brooke proceeds, with Muda Hassim, in the Samarang to Borneo.--Labuan examined.--Returns to Sarawak.--Visit of Lingire, a Sarebus chief.--The Dyaks of Tumma and Bandar Cassim.--Meets an assembly of Malays and Dyaks.--Arrival of Lingi, as a deputation from the Sakarran chiefs.--The Malay character.--Excursion up the country.--Miserable effects of excess in opium-smoking.--Picturesque situation of the Sow village of Ra-at.--Nawang.--Feast at Ra-at.--Returns home.--Conferences with Dyak chiefs. The return to England of Captain Bethune, C.B., bringing with him a further portion of Mr. Brooke's Journal to my charge, enables me to afford my readers some interesting details relative to the important events that have occurred in Borneo subsequent to my departure from Sarawak. "_January_, 1845.--The departure of the Dido left me sad and lonely, for Captain Keppel had been really my companion and friend; and he so thoroughly entered into my views for the suppression of piracy, and made them his own, that I may not expect any successor to act with the same vigour and the same decision. Gallant Didos! I would ask no further aid or protection than I received from you. Sir Edward Belcher, with the Phlegethon in company, arrived not long after the Dido's departure, and conveyed the Rajah Muda Hassim and his train to Borneo Proper. H.M.S. Samarang and Phlegethon visited and examined Labuan, and proceeded thence to Ambun. Ambun is a miserable village; and it at once gave the lie to the report of a European female being there in captivity, for no _poor Orang Kaya_ could retain such a prize. The inhabitants of Ambun are Badjows, and the country people or Dyaks of the interior are called Dusuns, or villagers. I saw many of them, and they appeared a gentle mild race, and far less warlike by account than our Dyaks. They are not tattooed, and the sumpitan is unknown amongst them. Leaving Ambun, which is situated in a pretty bay, we proceeded to Tampasuk, a considerable town, inhabited by Illanuns and Badjows. This is a piractical town; and I was informed by an Arab in captivity there that scarcely a week passes without strife and contention amongst themselves. There likewise I received information respecting the Balagnini, the great pirates of these seas. They are represented as in habiting numerous small islands in the vicinity of Sooloo: their origin is Badjow. I apprehend there would be little difficulty in breaking their power, and curing the propensity to piracy. "This cruise being over, I established myself quietly at Sarawak. The country is peaceable; trade flourishes; the Dyaks are content; the Malays greatly increased in number--in short, all goes well. I received a visit from Lingire, a Dyak chief of Sarebus. At first he was shy and somewhat suspicions; but a little attention soon put him at his ease. He is an intelligent man; and I hail with pleasure his advent to Sarawak, as the dawn of a friendship with the two pirate tribes. It is not alone for the benefit of these tribes that I desire to cultivate their friendship, but for the greater object of penetrating the interior through their means. There are no Malays there to impede our progress by their lies and their intrigues; and, God willing, these rivers shall be the great arteries by which civilization shall be circulated to the heart of Borneo. "_14th._--The Dyaks of Tumma, a runaway tribe from Sadong, came down last night, as Bandar Cassim of Sadong wishes still to extract property from them. Bandar Cassim I believe to be a weak man, swayed by stronger-headed and worse rascals; but, now that Seriff Sahib and Muda Hassim are no longer in the country, he retains no excuse for oppressing the poor Dyaks. Si Nankan and Tumma have already flown, and most of the other tribes are ready to follow their example, and take refuge in Sarawak. I have fully explained to the Bandar that he will lose all his Dyaks if he continues his system of oppression, and more especially if he continues to resort to that most hateful system of seizing the women and children. "I had a large assembly of natives, Malay and Dyaks, and held forth many good maxims to them. At present, in Sarawak, we have Balows and Sarebus, mortal enemies; Lenaar, our extreme tribe, and our new Sadong tribe of Tumma. Lately we had Kantoss, from near Sarambow, in the interior of Pontiana; Undops, from that river; and Badjows, from near Lantang--tribes which had never thought of Sarawak before, and perhaps never heard the name. Oh, for power to pursue the course pointed out! "_16th._--The Julia arrived, much to my relief; and Mr. Low, a botanist and naturalist, arrived in her. He will be a great acquisition to our society, if devoted to these pursuits. The same day that the Julia entered, the Ariel left the river. I dismissed the Tumma Dyaks; re-warned Bandar Cassim of the consequences of his oppression; and had a parting interview with Lingire. I had another long talk with Lingire, and did him honor by presenting him with a spear and flag, for I believe he is true, and will be useful; and this Orang Kaya Pa-muncha, the most powerful of these Dyaks, must be mine. Lingire described to me a great fight he once had with the Kayans, on which occasion he got ninety-one heads, and forced a large body of them to retire with inferior numbers. I asked him whether the Kayans used the sumpitan? he answered, 'Yes.' 'Did many of your men die from the wounds?' 'No; we can cure them.' This is one more proof in favor of Mr. Crawfurd's opinion that this poison is not sufficiently virulent to destroy life when the arrow is (as it mostly is) plucked instantly from the wound. "_26th._--Linn, a Sakarran chief, arrived, deputed (as he asserted, and I believe truly) by the other chiefs of Sakarran to assure me of their submission and desire for peace. He likewise stated, that false rumors spread by the Malays agitated the Dyaks; and the principal rumor was, that they would be shortly attacked again by the white men. These rumors are spread by the Sariki people, to induce the Sakarrans to quit their river and take refuge in the interior of the Rejong; and once there, the Sakarrans would be in a very great measure at the mercy of the Sariki people. This is a perfect instance of Malay dealing with the Dyaks; but in this case it has failed, as the Sakarrans are too much attached to their country to quit it. I am inclined to believe their professions; and at any rate it is convenient to do so and to give them a fair trial. "_28th._--How is it to be accounted for, that the Malays have so bad a character with the public, and yet that the few who have had opportunities of knowing them well speak of them as a simple and not unamiable people? With the vulgar, the idea of a Malay--and by the Malay they mean the entire Polynesian race, with the exception of the Javanese--is that of a treacherous, blood-thirsty villain; and I believe the reason to be, that from our first intercourse to the present time, it is the Pangerans or rajahs of the country, with their followers, who are made the standard of Malay character. These rajahs, born in the purple; bred amid slaves and fighting-cocks, inheriting an undisputed power over their subjects, and under all circumstances, whether of riches or poverty, receiving the abject submission of those around their persons, are naturally the slaves of their passions--haughty, rapacious, vindictive, weak, and tenacious unto death of the paltry punctilio of their court The followers of such rajahs it is needless to describe; they are the tools of the rajah's will, and more readily disposed for evil than for good; unscrupulous, cunning, intriguing, they are prepared for any act of violence. We must next contrast these with a burly, independent trader, eager after gain; probably not over-scrupulous about the means of obtaining it, ignorant of native character, and heedless of native customs and native etiquet. The result of such a combination of ingredients causes an explosion on the slightest occasion. The European is loud, contemptuous, and abusive; the Malay cool and vindictive. The regal dignity has been insulted; the rajah has received 'shame' before his court; evil counselors are at hand to whisper the facility of revenge, and the advantages to be derived from it. The consequence too frequently follows--the captain and crew are krissed, and their vessel seized and appropriated. The repeated tragedy shocks the European mind; and the Malay has received, and continues to this day to receive, a character for treachery and bloodthirstiness. Even in these common cases an allowance must be made for the insults received, which doubtless on numerous occasions were very gross, and such flagrant violations of native customs as to merit death in native eyes; and we must bear in mind, that we never hear but one side of the tale, or only judge upon a bloody fact. It is from such samples of Malays that the general character is given by those who have only the limited means of trade for forming a judgment; but those who have known the people of the interior and lived among them, far removed from the influence of their rajahs, have given them a very different character. Simple in their habits, they are neither treacherous nor bloodthirsty; cheerful, polite, hospitable, gentle in their manners, they live in communities with fewer crimes and fewer punishments than most other people of the globe. They are passionately fond of their children, and indulgent even to a fault; and the ties of family relationship and good feeling continue in force for several generations. The feeling of the Malay, fostered by education, is acute, and his passions are roused if shame be put upon him; indeed, this dread of shame amounts to a disease; and the evil is, that it has taken a wrong direction, being more the dread of exposure or abuse, than shame or contrition for any offence. "I have always found them good-tempered and obliging, wonderfully amenable to authority, and quite as sensible of benefits conferred, and as grateful, as other people of more favored countries. Of course there is a reverse to this picture. The worst feature of the Malay character is the want of all candor or openness, and the restless spirit of cunning intrigue which animates them, from the highest to the lowest. Like other Asiatics, truth is a rare quality among them. They are superstitious, somewhat inclined to deceit in the ordinary concerns of life, and they have neither principle nor conscience when they have the means of oppressing an infidel, and a Dyak who is their inferior in civilization and intellect. "If this character of the Malay be summed up, it will be anything but a bad one on the whole; it will present a striking contrast to the conduct and character of the rajahs and their followers, and I think will convince any impartial inquirer, that it is easily susceptible of improvement. One of the most fertile sources of confusion is, classing at one time all the various nations of the Archipelago under the general name of Malay, and at another restricting the same term to one people, not more ancient, not the fountain-head of the others, who issued from the center of Sumatra, and spread themselves in a few parts of the Archipelago. "The French, the German, the English, Scotch, and Irish are not more different in national character than the Malay, the Javanese, the Bugis, the Illanun, and the Dyak; and yet all these are indiscriminately called Malay, and a common character bestowed upon them. It would be as wise and as sensible to speak of a European character. "_31st._--Started on a short excursion up the country, and slept at Siniawan. Here I found a young Pangeran (who came from Sambas with Mr. Hupé, a German missionary) enchained in the delights of opium. He left Sarawak for Sambas two months since, proceeded five hours' journey, and has since been smoking the drug and sleeping alternately. His life passes thus: between four and five he wakes, yawns, and smokes a pipe or two, which fits him for the labors of taking his guitar and playing for an hour. Then follows a slightly tasted meal, a pipe or two succeeds, and content and merriment for another hour or two. About eight o'clock the gentleman reclines, and pipe succeeds pipe till, toward daylight, he sinks intoxicated and stupid on his pillow, to wake up again in due course to play again the same part. Poor wretch! two months of this life of dissipation have reduced him to a shadow--two more months will consign him to his grave. "_Feb. 1st._--Started after breakfast, and paddled against a strong current past Tundong, and, some distance above, left the main stream and entered the branch to the right, which is narrower, and rendered difficult of navigation by the number of fallen trees which block up the bed, and which sometimes obliged us to quit our boat, and remove all the kajang covers, so as to enable us to haul the boat under the huge trunks. The main stream was rapid and turbid, swollen by a fresh, and its increase of volume blocked up the waters of the tributary, so as to render the current inconsiderable. The Dyaks have thrown several bridges across the rivers, which they effect with great ingenuity; but I was surprised on one of these bridges to observe the traces of the severe flood which we had about a fortnight since. The water on that occasion must have risen twenty feet perpendicularly, and many of the trees evidently but recently fallen, are the effects of its might. The walk to Rat, or Ra-at, is about two miles along a decent path. Nothing can be more picturesque than the hill and the village. The former is a huge lump (I think of granite), almost inaccessible, with bold bare sides, rising out of a rich vegetation at the base, and crowned with trees. The height is about 500 feet; and about a hundred feet lower is a shoulder of the hill on which stands the eagle-nest-like village of Ra-at, the ascent to which is like climbing by a ladder up the side of a house. This is one of the dwelling-places of the Sow Dyaks, a numerous but dispersed tribe. Their chief, or Orang Kaya, is an imbecile old man, and the virtual headship is in the hands of Nimok, of whom more hereafter. Our friends seemed pleased to see us, and Nimok apologized for so few of his people being present, as the harvest was approaching; but being anxious to give a feast on the occasion of my first visit to their tribe, it was arranged that to-morrow I should shoot deer, and the day following return to the mountain. The views on either side from the village are beautiful--one view enchanting from its variety and depth, more especially when lighted up by the gleam of a showery sunshine, as I first saw it. Soon, however, after our arrival, the prospect was shut out by clouds, and a soaking rain descended, which lasted for the greater part of the night. "_2d._--Started after breakfast, and after a quiet walk of about three hours through a pleasant country of alternate hill and valley, we saw the valley of Nawang below us. Nawang is the property of the Singè Dyaks, and is cultivated by poor families, at the head of which is Niarak. The house contained three families, and our party was distributed among them, ourselves, i. e. Low, Crookshank, and myself, occupying one small apartment with a man, his wife, and daughter. The valley presented one of the most charming scenes to be imagined--a clearing amid hills of moderate elevation, with the distant mountains in the background; a small stream ran through it, which, being damned in several places, enables the cultivator to flood his padi-fields. The padi looked beautifully green. A few palms and plantains fringed the farm at intervals, while the surrounding hills were clothed in their native jungle. Here and there a few workmen in the fields heightened the effect; and the scene, as evening closed, was one of calm repose, and, I may say, of peace. The cocoa-nut, the betel, the sago, and the gno or gomati, are the four favorite palms of the Dyaks. In their simple mode of life, these four trees supply them many necessaries and luxuries. The sago furnishes food; and after the pith has been extracted, the outer part forms a rough covering for the rougher floor, on which the farmer sleeps. The leaf of the sago is preferable for the roofing of houses to the nibong. The gomati, or gno, gives the black fibre which enables the owner to manufacture rope or cord for his own use; and over and above, the toddy of this palm is a luxury daily enjoyed. When we entered, this toddy was produced in large bamboos, both for our use and that of our attendant Dyaks; I thought it, however, very bad. In the evening we were out looking for deer, and passed many a pleasant spot which once was a farm, and which will become a farm again. These the Dyaks called rapack, and they are the favorite feeding-grounds of the deer. To our disappointment we did not get a deer, which we had reckoned on as an improvement to our ordinary dinner-fare. A sound sleep soon descended on our party, and the night passed in quiet; but it is remarkable how vigilant their mode of life renders the Dyaks. Their sleep is short and interrupted; they constantly rise, blow up the fire, and look out on the night: it is rarely that some or other of them are not on the move. "Yearly the Dyaks take new ground for their farm; yearly they fence it in, and undergo the labor of reclaiming new land; for seven years the land lies fallow, and then may be used again. What a waste of labor! more especially in these rich and watered valleys, which, in the hands of the Chinese, might produce two crops yearly. "_3d._--Took leave of this pleasant valley, and by another and shorter road than we came reached Ra-at. We arrived in good time on the hill, and found everything prepared for a feast. There was nothing new in this feast. A fowl was killed with the usual ceremony; afterward a hog. The hog is paid for by the company at a price commensurate with its size: a split bamboo is passed round the largest part of the body, and knots tied on it at given distances; and according to the number of these knots are the number of pasus or padi for the price. "Our host of Nawang, Niarak, arrived to this feast with a plentiful supply of toddy; and before the dance commenced, we were requested to take our seats. The circumstances of the tribe, and the ability of Nimok, rendered this ceremony interesting to me. The Sow tribe has long been split into four parties, residing at different places. Gunong Sow, the original locality, was attacked by the Sakarran Dyaks, and thence Nimok and his party retired to Ra-at. A second smaller party subsequently located at or near Bow, as being preferable; while the older divisions of Jaguen and Ahuss lived at the places so named. Nimok's great desire was to gather together his scattered tribe, and to become _de facto_ its head. My presence and the Datus' was a good opportunity for gathering the tribe; and Nimok hoped to give them the impression that we countenanced his proposition. The dances over, Nimok pronounced an oration: he dwelt on the advantages of union; how desirous he was to benefit his tribe; how constantly it was his custom to visit Sarawak in order to watch over the interests of the tribe--the trouble was his, the advantage theirs; but how, without union, could they hope to gain any advantage--whether the return of their remaining captive women, or any other? He proposed this union; and that, after the padi was ripe, they should all live at Ra-at, where, as a body, they were always ready to obey the commands of the Tuan Besar or the Datu. "This was the substance of Nimok's speech. But the effect of his oratory was not great; for the Bow, and other portions of the tribe, heard coldly his proposition, though they only opposed it in a few words. It was evident they had no orator at all a match for Nimok: a few words from Niana drew forth a second oration. He glanced at their former state; he spoke with animation of their enemies, and dwelt on their great misfortune at Sow; he attacked the Singè as the cause of these misfortunes: and spoke long and eloquently of things past, of things present, and things to come. He was seated the whole time; his voice varied with his subject, and was sweet and expressive; his action was always moderate, principally laying down the law with his finger on the mats. Niarak, our Singè friend, attempted a defence of his tribe; but he had drunk too freely of his own arrack; and his speech was received with much laughter, in which he joined. At this juncture I retired, after saying a few words; but the talk was kept up for several hours after, amid feasting and drinking. "_4th._--After breakfast, walked to our boats, and at six P.M. reached home, just in time; weather very rainy. "_10th._--Nothing to remark in these days, except the ordinary course of business and of life. "_13th._--The Tumangong returned from Sadong, and brought me a far better account of that place than I had hoped for. It appears that they really are desirous to govern well, and to protect the Dyaks; and fully impressed with the caution I gave them, that unless they protect and foster their tribes, they will soon lose them from their removal to Sarawak. "One large tribe, the Maluku, a branch of the Sibnowans, are, it appears, very desirous of being under my protection. It is a tempting offer, and I should like to have them; but I must not deprive the rulers of Sadong of the means of living comfortably, and the power of paying revenue. Protect them I both can and will. There are great numbers of Sarawak people at Sadong, all looking out for birds'-nests; new caves have been explored; mountains ascended for the first time in the search. It shows the progress of good government and security, and, at the same time, is characteristic of the Malay character. They will endure fatigue, and run risks, on the chance of finding this valuable commodity; but they will not labor steadily, or engage in pursuits which would lead to fortune by a slow progress. "_15th._--Panglima Laksa, the chief of the Undop tribe, arrived, to request, as the Badjows and Sakarrans had recently killed his people, that I would permit him to retort. At the same time came Abong Kapi, the Sakarran Malay, with eight Sakarran chiefs, named Si Miow, one of the heads, and the rest Tadong, Lengang, Barunda, Badendang, Si Bunie, Si Ludum, and Kuno, the representatives of other heads. Nothing could be more satisfactory than the interview, just over. They denied any knowledge or connection with the Badjows, who had killed some Dyaks at Undop, and said all that I could desire. They promised to obey me, and look upon me as their chief: they desired to trade, and would guaranty any Sarawak people who came to their river; but they could not answer for all the Dyaks in the Batang Lupar. It is well known, however, that the Batang Lupar Dyaks are more peaceable than those of Sakarran, and will be easily managed; and as for the breaking out of these old feuds, it is comparatively of slight importance, compared to the grand settlement; for as our influence increases we can easily put down the separate sticks of the bundle. There is a noble chance, if properly used! It may be remarked that many of their names are from some peculiarity of person, or from some quality. Tadong is a poisonous snake; but, on inquiry, I found the young chief so named had got the name from being black. They are certainly a fine-looking race. "_17th._--Plenty of conferences with the Sakarran chiefs; and, as far as I can judge, they are sincere in the main, though some reserves there may be. Treachery I do not apprehend from them; but, of course, it will be impossible, over a very numerous, powerful, and warlike tribe, to gain such an ascendency of a sudden as at once to correct their evil habits." Here again Mr. Brooke appears to have been placed on the horns of a dilemma by his ignorance of the views of the British Government. Had his position in Borneo been certain--had he either been supported or deserted--his path of policy would have been clear; whereas he evidently did not know what the morrow would bring forth; whether it would find him with an English force at his back, or abandoned to his own resources. CHAPTER XXI. Mr. Brooke's memorandum on the piracy of the Malayan Archipelago.--The measures requisite for its suppression, and for the consequent extension of British commerce in that important locality. I cannot afford my readers a more accurate idea of the present state of piracy in the Malayan Archipelago, of the best mode of suppressing it, and of the vast field which the island of Borneo offers for the extension of British commerce, than by quoting a few of Mr. Brooke's observations on these important subjects, written before the operations of the squadron under command of Rear-Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane took place, of which an account will be given in Chapter XXII. With reference to the first topic, piracy, Mr. Brooke remarks:-- "The piracy of the Eastern Archipelago is entirely distinct from piracy in the Western world; for, from the condition of the various governments, the facilities offered by natural situation, and the total absence of all restraint from European nations, the pirate communities have attained an importance on the coasts and islands most removed from foreign settlements. Thence they issue forth and commit depredations on the native trade, enslave the inhabitants at the entrance of rivers, and attack ill-armed or stranded European vessels; and roving from place to place, they find markets for their slaves and plunder. "The old-established Malay governments (such as Borneo and Sooloo), weak and distracted, are, probably without exception, participators in or victims to piracy; and in many cases both--purchasing from one set of pirates, and enslaved and plundered by another; and while their dependencies are abandoned, the unprotected trade languishes from the natural dread of the better-disposed natives to undertake a coasting voyage. "It is needless to dwell upon the evil effects of piracy; but before venturing an opinion on the most effectual means of suppression, I propose briefly to give an account of such pirate communities as I am acquainted with. "The pirates on the coast of Borneo may be classed into those who make long voyages in large heavy-armed prahus, such as the Illanuns, Balignini, &c., and the lighter Dyak fleets, which make short but destructive excursions in swift prahus, and seek to surprise rather than openly to attack their prey. A third, and probably the worst class, are usually half-bred Arab seriffs, who, possessing themselves of the territory of some Malay state, form a nucleus for piracy, a rendezvous and market for all the roving fleets; and although occasionally sending out their own followers, they more frequently seek profit by making advances, in food, arms, and gunpowder, to all who will agree to repay them at an exorbitant rate in slaves. "The Dyaks of Sarebus and Sakarran were under the influence of two Arab seriffs, who employed them on piratical excursions, and shared in equal parts the plunder obtained. I had once the opportunity of counting ninety-eight boats about to start on a cruise; and reckoning the crew of each boat at the moderate average of twenty-five men, it gives a body of 2450 men on a piratical excursion. The piracies of these Arab seriffs and their Dyaks were so notorious, that it is needless to detail them here; but one curious feature, which throws a light on the state of society, I cannot forbear mentioning. On all occasions of a Dyak fleet being about to make a piratical excursion, a gong was beat round the town ordering a particular number of Malays to embark; and in case any one failed to obey, he was fined the sum of thirty rupees by the seriff of the place. "The blow struck by Captain Keppel of her majesty's ship Dido on these two communities was so decisive as to have put an entire end to their piracies; the leaders Seriff Sahib and Seriff Muller have fled, the Malay population has been dispersed, and the Dyaks so far humbled, as to sue for protection; and in future, by substituting local Malay rulers of good character in lieu of the piratical seriffs, a check will be placed on the Dyaks, and they may be broken of their piratical habits, in as far as interferes with the trade of the coast. "The next pirate horde we meet with is a mixed community of Illanuns and Badjows (or sea-gipsys) located at Tampasuk, a few miles up a small river; they are not formidable in number, and their depredations are chiefly committed on the Spanish territory; their market, until recently, being Bruni, or Borneo Proper. They might readily be dispersed and driven back to their own country; and the Dusuns, or villagers (as the name signifies), might be protected and encouraged. Seriff Houseman, a half-bred Arab, is located in Malludu Bay, and has, by account, from fifteen hundred to two thousand men with him. He is beyond doubt a pirate direct and indirect, and occasionally commands excursions in person, or employs the Illanuns of Tampasuk, and others to the eastward, who for their own convenience make common cause with him. He has no pretension to the territory he occupies; and the authority he exerts (by means of his piratical force) over the interior tribes in his vicinity, and on the island of Palawan, is of the worst and most oppressive description. This seriff has probably never come in contact with any Europeans, and consequently openly professes to hold their power in scorn. "To my own knowledge Seriff Houseman seized and sold into slavery a boat's crew (about twenty men) of the Sultana, a merchant ship, which was burned in the Palawan passage. Within the last few months he has plundered and burned a European vessel stranded near the Mangsi Isles; and to show his entire independence of control, his contempt for European power, and his determination to continue in his present course, he has threatened to attack the city of Bruni, in consequence of the Bruni government having entered into a treaty with her majesty's government for the discouragement and suppression of piracy. This fact speaks volumes; an old-established and recognized Malay government is to be attacked by a lawless adventurer, who has seized on a portion of its territory, and lives by piracy, for venturing to treat with a foreign power for the best purposes. If any further proof of piracy were requisite, it would readily be established by numerous witnesses (themselves the victims), and by the most solemn declaration of the Bruni authorities, that peaceful traders on the high seas have been stopped by the prahus of this seriff and his allies, their vessel seized, their property plundered, and their persons enslaved; numerous witnesses could attest their having been reduced to slavery and detained in the very household of Seriff Houseman! When, however, the facts of his having sold into slavery the crew of a British vessel (which has been established before the Singapore authorities) come to be known, I conceive every other proof of the character of this person is completely superfluous. "The indirect piracy of Seriff Houseman is even more mischievous than what is directly committed; for he supplies the Balagnini (a restless piratical tribe, hereafter to be mentioned) with food, powder, arms, salt, &c. under the agreement that they pay him on their return from the cruise, at the rate of five slaves for every 100 rupees' worth of goods. The Balagnini are in consequence enabled, through his assistance, to pirate effectively, which otherwise they would not be able to do; as, from their locality, they would find it difficult to obtain fire-arms and gunpowder. The most detestable part of this traffic, however, is Seriff Houseman selling, in cold blood, such of these slaves as are Borneons, to Pangeran Usop, of Bruni, for 100 rupees for each slave, and Pangeran Usop re-selling each for 200 rupees to their relations in Bruni. Thus, this vile seriff (without taking into account the enormous prices charged for his goods in the first instance) gains 500 per cent for every slave, and Pangeran Usop clears 100 per cent on the flesh of his own countrymen, thereby _de facto_ becoming a party to piracy, though doubtless veiled under the guise of compassion. "More might be added on the subject of the piracies committed by this seriff; and it could easily be shown that the evils accruing from them affect, not only the peaceful trader, but extend to the peaceful agriculturist; but, for the sake of brevity, I deem it sufficient to add, that he exercises the same malign influence on the north coast as Seriff Sahib exercised on the northwest; and that, having surrounded himself by a body of pirates, he arrogates the rights of sovereignty, defies European power, contemns every right principle, and threatens the recognized and legitimate governments of the Archipelago. "The Balagnini inhabit a cluster of small islands somewhere in the vicinity of Sooloo; they are of the Badjow or sea-gipsy tribe, a wandering race, whose original country has never been ascertained. At present, as far as I can learn, they are not dependent on Sooloo, though it is probable they may be encouraged by some of the rajahs of that place, and that they find a slave market there. "The Balagnini cruise in large prahus, and to each prahu a fleet sampan is attached, which, on occasion, can carry from ten to fifteen men. They seldom carry large guns, like the Illanuns, but in addition to their other arms, big lelas (brass pieces, carrying from a one to a three pound ball), spears, swords, &c. They use long poles with barbed iron points, with which, during an engagement or flight, they hook their prey. By means of the fleet sampans already mentioned, they are able to capture all small boats; and it is a favorite device with them to disguise one or two men, while the rest lie concealed in the bottom of the boat, and thus to surprise prahus at sea, and fishermen or others at the mouths of rivers. By being disguised as Chinese they have carried off numbers of that nation from the Sambas and Pontiana rivers. The cruising-grounds of these pirates are very extensive; they frequently make the circuit of Borneo, proceed as far as the south of Celebes, and in the other direction have been met off Tringanu, Calantan, and Patani. Gillolo and the Moluccas lie within easy range, and it is probable that Papua is occasionally visited by them. It will readily be conceived how harassing to trade must be the continued depredations of the Balagnini pirates, and more especially to the trade of Bruni, which seems, from the unwarlike habits of the natives, the chosen field of their operations. The number of Borneons yearly taken into slavery is very considerable, as a fleet of six or eight boats usually hangs about the island of Labuan, to cut off the trade, and to catch the inhabitants of the city. The Borneons, from being so harassed by these pirates, call the easterly wind 'the pirate wind.' The Balagnini commence cruising on the northwest coast about the middle of March, and return, or remove to the eastern side of the island, about the end of November. "Of Magindano, or Mindanao, we are at the present time very ignorant; but we know that the inhabitants are warlike and numerous, and that that part of the island called Illanun Bay sends forth the most daring pirates of the Archipelago. The first step requisite is to gain more information concerning them, to form an acquaintance with some of their better-disposed chiefs, and subsequently we might act against them with a suitable force; but it would be rash and premature, in the present state of our knowledge, to come in contact with them in their own country. On one occasion I met eighteen Illanun boats on neutral ground, and learned from their two chiefs that they had been two years absent from home; and from the Papuan negro-slaves on board it was evident that their cruise had extended from the most eastern islands of the Archipelago to the north-western coast of Borneo. "Having now enumerated the pirates I have become acquainted with since my residence in Sarawak, I shall proceed to offer an opinion of the best mode for the suppression of piracy in these seas. "In the first place, a blow should be struck at the piratical communities with which we are already acquainted, and struck with a force which should convince all other pirates of the hopelessness of resistance; subsequently the recognized Malay governments may be detached from all communication with pirates; and, joining conciliation with punishment, laying down the broad distinction of piracy and no piracy, we may foster those who abandon their evil habits, and punish those who adhere to them. "A system of supervision will, however, be necessary to carry out these measures: our knowledge of the native states must be improved; and as we become able to discriminate between the good and the bad, our sphere of action may be enlarged, and we may act with decision against all descriptions of pirates; against the indirect as well as the direct pirate; against the receiver of stolen goods as well as the thief; and against the promoter as well as the actual perpetrator of piracy. "I would especially urge that, to eradicate the evil, the pirate-haunts must be burned and destroyed, and the communities dispersed; for merely to cruise against pirate-prahus, and to forbear attacking them until we see them commit a piracy, is a hopeless and an endless task, harassing to our men, and can be attended with but very partial and occasional success; whereas, on the contrary principle, what pirate would venture to pursue his vocation if his home be endangered--if he be made to feel in his own person the very ills he inflicts upon others? "A question may arise as to what constitutes piracy; and whether, in our efforts to suppress it, we may not be interfering with the right of native states to war one upon another. On the first point, it appears clear to me, that the plunder or seizure of a peaceful and lawful trader on the high seas constitutes an act of piracy, without any reference to the nation or color of the injured party; for if we limit our construction of piracy, we shall, in most cases, be in want of sufficient evidence to convict, and the whole native trade of the Archipelago will be left at the mercy of pirates, much to the injury of our own commerce and of our settlement of Singapore. "On the second point, we can only concede the right of war to recognized states; and even then we must carefully avoid introducing the refinements of European international law among a rude and semi-civilized people, who will make our delicacy a cloak for crime, and declare war merely for the sake of committing piracy with impunity. On the contrary, all chiefs who have seized on territory and arrogate independence (making this independence a plea for piracy) can never be allowed the right of declaring war, or entering on hostilities with their neighbors; for, as I have before remarked, all native trade must in that case be at an end, as the piratical chiefs, no longer in dread of punishment from European powers, would doubtless declare war against every unwarlike native state which they did not need as a market for the sale of their slaves and plunder. "Practically acting, however, on the broad principle, that the seizure of any lawful trader constitutes piracy, I consider no injustice could be done to the native states, and no interference occur with their acknowledged rights; for in practice it would be easy to discriminate a war between native nations from the piracies of lawless hordes of men; and without some such general principle, no executive officer could act with the requisite decision and promptitude to insure the eradication of this great evil. "With a post such as is proposed to be established, our measures for the suppression of piracy (after the punishment of Seriff Houseman and the Balagnini) would advance step by step, as our knowledge increased, and with alternate conciliation and severity, as the case might require. By detaching the recognised governments from the practice, and gradually forming among the chief men a friendly and English party opposed to piracy, we should, I doubt not, speedily obtain our principal object of clearing the sea of marauders, and ultimately correct the natural propensity of the natives for piracy. "In order to extend our commerce in these seas generally, and more particularly on the N.W. coast of Borneo, it is requisite, 1st, that piracy be suppressed; 2dly, that the native governments be settled, so as to afford protection to the poorer and producing classes; and, 3dly, that our knowledge of the interior should be extended, and our intercourse with the various tribes more frequent. "That our commerce may be largely extended is so clear that I shall not stop to detail the productions of the island of Borneo, as it will suffice here to state generally that all authorities agree in representing it as one of the richest portions of the globe, and in climate, soil, and mineral and vegetable productions, inferior to no portion of the same extent. "If these opinions be true--and from my experience I believe them to be so--it follows that the materials for an extensive and extended trade exist, and only require development, while a numerous and industrious, though wild population, which inhabits the interior, is debarred from all intercourse with Europeans from the badness of Malay government. "On the first requisite for the development of commerce I need add nothing further, as it is a duty incumbent on all governments to eradicate piracy at any cost; and in the present case it would not be found a difficult or tedious task. "A post like Labuan or Balambangan would, beyond doubt, give an impetus to trade, merely from the freedom from all restrictions, and the absence of all exactions, which the natives would enjoy; and (piracy being checked) countries which now lie fallow would, from their proximity, be induced to bring their produce into market. "This limited extension is, however, of little moment when compared with the results which must attend our exerting a beneficial influence over the native governments for the purposes of affording protection to the poorer classes, insuring safety to the trader, and opening a field for the planter or the miner. "The slightest acquaintance with the northwest coast of Borneo would convince any observer of the ease with which these objects might be effected; for the native government, being in a state of decadence, requires protection, and would willingly act justly toward traders and capitalists, and encourage their enterprises, in order to continue on friendly terms with any European power located in their vicinity. The numerous rivers on the coast, with their local rulers, are harassed by the demands of every petty Pangeran; and while the sovereign is defrauded of his revenue, which the people would cheerfully pay, and his territory ruined, this host of useless retainers (acting always in his name) gain but very slight personal profits to counterbalance all the mischief they do. "The principal feature is the weakness of the governments, both of the capital and its dependencies; and in consequence of this weakness there is a strong desire for European protection, for European enterprise, and for any change effected by Europeans. Supposing Labuan to be taken as a naval post, I consider that European capital might with safety be employed in Bruni. "In the rivers contiguous to Sarawak the presence of Europeans would be hailed with joy, not only by the Dyaks, but by the Malays; and subsequently it would depend on their own conduct to what degree they retained the good-will of the natives; but with ordinary conciliation, and a decent moral restraint on their actions, I feel assured that their persons and property would be safe, and no obstruction offered to fair trade or to mining operations. "Supposing, as I have before said, the occupation of Labuan by the English, our influence over the government of Bruni would be complete; and one of our principal objects would be to maintain this ascendency, as a means of extending our trade. "Our position at Labuan would, it must be borne in mind, differ from the position we occupied in relation to the native princes in Singapore. In the latter case, the native princes were without means, without followers, and with a paltry and useless territory, and became our pensioners. In the case of Labuan, we shall have an acknowledged independent state in our vicinity; and for the prosperity of our settlement we must retain our ascendency by the support of the government of Muda Hassim. Let our influence be of the mildest kind; let us, by supporting the legitimate government, ameliorate the condition of the people by this influence; let us pay every honor to the native princes; let us convince them of our entire freedom from all selfish views of territorial aggrandizement on the mainland of Borneo, and we shall enjoy so entire a confidence that virtually the coast will become our own without the trouble or expense of possession. I have impressed it on the Rajah Muda Hassim and Pangeran Budrudeen, that the readiest and most direct way of obtaining revenues from their various possessions will be by commuting all their demands for a stated yearly sum of money from each; and by this direct taxation, to which Muda Hassim and his brother seem ready to accede, the system of fraud and exaction would be abolished, the native mind tranquillized, and the legitimate government would become the protector rather than the oppressor of its dependencies. By this measure, likewise, a tone might be imparted to the native chiefs and rulers of rivers, and the people at large taught to feel that, after the payment of a specified sum, a right existed to resist all extra demands. Beside this, these rajahs are convinced that a certain yearly revenue is what they require, and is the only means by which they can retain their independence; and I have impressed it on their minds that, to gain a revenue, they must foster trade and protect Europeans in their dealings. "If Labuan were English, and if the sea were clear of pirates, I see no obstacle to bringing these and other measures into immediate operation; and I am assured we should have the sincere and hearty cooperation of the Borneon government. "Since the advent of Europeans in the Archipelago, the tendency of the Polynesian governments generally has been to decay; here the experiment may be fairly tried on the smallest scale of expense, whether a beneficial European influence may not reanimate a falling state, and at the same time extend our own commerce. We are here devoid of the stimulus which has urged us on to conquest in India. We incur no risk of the collision of the two races: we occupy a small station in the vicinity of a friendly and unwarlike people; and we aim at the development of native countries through native agency. "If this tendency to decay and extinction be inevitable; if this adaptation of European policy to a native state be found unable to arrest the fall of the Borneon government, yet we shall retain a people already habituated to European manners, industrious interior races, and at a future period, if deemed necessary, settlements gradually developed in a rich and fertile country. We shall have a post in time of war highly advantageous as commanding a favorable position relative to China, we shall extend our commerce, suppress piracy, and prevent the present and prospective advantages from falling into other hands; and we shall do this at small expense. "I own the native development through their own exertions is but a favorite theory; but whatever may be the fate of the government of Borneo, the people will still remain; and if they be protected and enabled to live in quiet security, I cannot entertain a doubt of the country's becoming a highly productive one, eminently calculated as a field for British enterprise and capital. "If the development of the resources of the country can be effected by its native rulers it will be a noble task performed; but if it fail, the people of the coast will still advance and form governments for themselves under British influence. "In concluding this hasty and general view of the subject, I may remark that commerce might be extended and capital laid out on the northwest coast of Borneo, to an amount to which it is difficult to fix limits, as the country is capable of producing most articles of commerce in demand from this quarter of the world, and the natives (who, as far as we know them, are an unwarlike, mild, and industrious race) would receive our manufactures, from which they are now in a great measure debarred. I have not alluded to any other countries of the Archipelago: for we must first become acquainted with them; we must become intimate, cultivate an English party, and accustom them to our manners; and probably the same conciliatory policy, the same freedom from design, which has succeeded in Borneo, will succeed elsewhere, if pushed with temper and patience. "The general principle ought to be--to encourage established governments, such as those of Borneo and Sooloo, provided they will with all sincerity abandon piracy, and assist in its suppression; but at the same time, by supervision to convince ourselves of the fact, and keep them in the right path; for all treaties with these native states (and we have had several) are but so much waste paper, unless we see them carried into execution. "I have now only to mention the third means for the extension of commerce. Our intercourse with the natives of the interior should be frequent and intimate: these people (beyond where I am acquainted with them) are represented as very numerous, hospitable, and industrious; and a friendly intercourse would develop the resources of their country, draw its produce to our markets, and give the natives a taste for British manufactures. This intercourse, however, must be prudently introduced and carefully advanced; for to bring these wild people into contact with ignorant and arrogant Europeans would produce bloodshed and confusion in a month. In Borneo, it is an advantage that the two races can not come in collision; for from its climate it precludes all idea of colonization; and that which is next to an impossibility, the maintaining a good understanding between ignorant civilized men and ignorant savages. It is a field for commerce and capital, but no violent change of native customs should be attempted; and in this way alone, by gradual means, can we really benefit the natives and ourselves. When we consider the amount of produce obtained from the countries of the Archipelago, and their consumption of British manufactures, under the worst forms of government, living in a state of distraction and insecurity, and exposed to the depredations of pirates at sea, we may form some idea how vast may be the increase, should peace and security be introduced among them; and judging of the future by the past--by the limited experiment made at Sarawak--we may hope that the task is neither so difficult nor so uncertain as was formerly supposed." CHAPTER XXII. Arrival of Captain Bethune and Mr. Wise.--Mr. Brooke appointed her Majesty's Agent in Borneo.--Sails for Borneo Proper.--Muda Hassim's measures for the suppression of piracy.--Defied by Seriff Houseman.--Audience of the Sultan, Muda Hassim, and the Pangerans.--Visit to Labuan.--Comparative eligibility of Labuan and Balambangan for settlement.--Coal discovered in Labuan.--Mr. Brooke goes to Singapore and visits Admiral Sir T. Cochrane.--The upas-tree.--Proceeds with the Admiral to Borneo Proper.--Punishment of Pangeran Usop.--The battle of Malludu.--Seriff Houseman obliged to fly.--Visit to Balambangan.--Mr. Brooke parts with the Admiral, and goes to Borneo Proper.--An attempt of Pangeran Usop defeated.--His flight, and pursuit by Pangeran Budrudeen.--Triumphant reception of Mr. Brooke in Borneo.--Returns to Sarawak. "_February 25th._--Borneo River, H.M.S. Driver. Scarcely, on the 17th, had I finished writing, when a boat from her majesty's steamer Driver, bringing Captain Bethune and my friend Wise, arrived. How strange, the same day, and almost the same hour, I was penning my doubts and difficulties, when a letter arrives from Lord Aberdeen appointing me confidential agent in Borneo to her majesty, and directing me to proceed to the capital, with a letter addressed to the sultan and the Rajah Muda Hassim, in reply to the documents requesting the assistance of the British government to effect the suppression of piracy. "My friend Wise I was glad to see, and a few hours' conversation convinced me how greatly I have been indebted to his exertions for success and my present position. His knowledge of trade, his cheerfulness regarding our pecuniary future, all impart confidence. Thus I may say, without much self-flattery, that the first wedge has been driven which may rive Borneo open to commerce and civilization, which may bestow happiness on its inhabitants. Captain Bethune is commissioned to report on the best locality for a settlement or station on the N.W. coast. I will only say here that no other person's appointment would have pleased me so well: he is intelligent, educated, and liberal, and in concert with him I am too happy to work. "On the 18th of February the Driver arrived; on the 21st left Sarawak, and at noon of the 24th arrived at the anchorage in Borneo river, having towed the gun-boat against the N.E. monsoon. Mr. Williamson was dispatched to Borneo, and found all right. They were delighted with our coming and our mission, and the sultan himself has laid aside his fears. A few presents have been sent, which will delight the natives, and all will prosper. "_26th._--Budrudeen arrived, and from him I learned the politics of Borneo since my last visit, when Muda Hassim was reinstated in authority. "As my mission refers more especially to piracy, I may here notice Muda Hassim's measures relative to that subject. Shortly after his arrival he addressed a letter to the Illanuns of Tampasuk, informing them of the engagement with the English to discourage and suppress piracy, advising them to desist, and ordering them not to visit Borneo until he (Muda Hassim) was convinced they were pirates no longer. This is good and candid. Muda Hassim at the same time requested Seriff Schaik to address a communication to Seriff Houseman of Malludu, acquainting him with his engagements, and the resolve of the Europeans to suppress piracy, adding that he was friends with the English, and no man could be friends with the English who encouraged piracy. The answer to this letter of Seriff Schaik, as far as I have yet learned, is a positive defiance. Three months since, I am informed, a brig or schooner was wrecked at a place called Mangsi, and she has been completely plundered and burned by Seriff Houseman: her cargo consisted of red woolens, fine white cloths, Turkey red cotton handkerchiefs, tin, pepper, Malacca canes, ratans, &c., &c. This evidently is a vessel bound to China, whether English or not is doubtful: the crew have not been heard of or seen here; and it is to be hoped may have reached Manilla. "_28th._--Borneo, or Bruni city. Left the Driver at 9 A.M. in the gun-boat, with the pinnace and cutter in company: a fine breeze carried us to Pulo Chermin, and nearly the whole way to Pulo Combong, where we met with the state-boat bearing the letter. We entered the town straggling, and _the letter_ having been received with firing of guns, banners displayed, and all the respect due to a royal communication, we were dragged in haste to the audience; the sultan on his throne, Muda Hassim and every principal Pangeran waiting for us--Pangeran Usop to boot. The letter was read; twenty-one guns fired. I told them in all civility that I was deputed by her majesty the queen to express her feelings of good will, and to offer every assistance in repressing piracy in these seas. The sultan stared. Muda Hassim said, 'We are greatly indebted; it is good, very good.' Then, heated, and sunburned, and tired, we took leave, and retired to the house prepared for us. "_March, 1st._--A long conference with Budrudeen, when, I believe, we exhausted all the important topics of Borneo politics: subsequently we visited Muda Hassim and the sultan. The latter was profuse in his kind expressions, and inquired of the interpreter when the English would come to Labuan, adding, 'I want to have the Europeans near me.' On this head, however, he gained no information. The presents were given to the sultan and rajah. "_5th._--In the evening visited Muda Hassim, and heard news from Malludu, which, divested of exaggerations, amounted to this: that Seriff Houseman was ready to receive us; was fortified, and had collected a fleet of boats; and that if the English did not come and attack him, he would come and attack Borneo, because they were in treaty with Europeans. After leaving Muda Hassim, paid the sultan a visit. "_10th._--I have nothing to say of our departure. Budrudeen accompanied us to the Mooarra, and thence, on Friday evening, we crossed to the anchorage of Labuan. "_12th._--Labuan. An island of about fifty feet high; twenty-five miles in circumference; woody; timber good; water from wells and a few small streams, which, after a drought, are dry; natives say water never fails. Anchorage good for the climate; well protected from the N.E.; not extensive; situation of contemplated town low; climate healthy, _i.e._, the same as Borneo; soil, as far as seen, sandy or light sandy loam. Coal found near the extreme N.E. point: by native reports it is likewise to be found in many other places; traces of coal are frequent in the sandstone strata. Anchorage not difficult of defense against a European enemy; entrance sufficiently broad and deep between two islands, with a shoal: vide chart. The island of Labuan, for the purposes of refuge for shipwrecked vessels, of a windward post relative to China, for the suppression of piracy, and the extension of our trade, is well suited; it is no paradise, and any other island, with good climate, wood, and water, would suit as well. Its powerful recommendation is its being in the neighborhood of an unwarlike and friendly people. There is no other island on the N.W. coast, and the abandoned Balambangan, to the northward of Borneo, is the only other place which could by possibility answer. The comparison between Balambangan and Labuan may be stated as follows: Balambangan, as a windward post relative to China, is superior, and it commands in time of war the inner passage to Manilla, and the eastern passages to China by the Straits of Makassar. Of its capabilities of defense we know nothing. It was surprised by the Sooloos. Its climate was not well spoken of. The island is larger than that of Labuan, and, as far as we know, has no coal. The great, and to me conclusive consideration against Balambangan is, that it is in the very nest of pirates, and surrounded by warlike and hostile people; and that to render it secure and effective, at least double the force would be necessary there that would suffice at Labuan. If Labuan succeeds and pays its own expenses, we might then take Balambangan; for the next best thing to a location on the main is to influence the people thereon by a succession of insular establishments. Yesterday we made an agreeable excursion to the n.e. point of Labuan; near the point it is picturesque, the cliffs are bold and cave-worn; the trees hang over the cliffs, or encroach on the intermediate sands, till they kiss the wave. Near a small cavern we discovered a seam of coal, which afforded us employment while Captain Bethune and Mr. Wise walked to obtain a view of the southern coast of the island. "_Bruni, 21st May, 1845._--After a longer time passed in Singapore than I wished, we at length started, in the Phlegethon steamer, for this city. At Singapore I had several interviews with Sir Thomas Cochrane. "_22d._--On the authority of Sulerman, an intelligent Meri man, I am told that the tree below the town is the real upas, called by the Meri men _tajim_--the Borneons call it _upas_. _Bina_ (the name we formerly got from a Borneon for upas) is, by Sulerman's statement, a thin creeper, the root or stem of which, being steeped in water, is added to the upas, to increase the poisonous quality; it is not, however, poisonous in itself. There is another creeper, likewise called bina, the leaves of which are steeped and mixed with the upas, instead of the stem of the first sort. This information may be relied on (in the absence of personal knowledge), as the man is of a tribe which uses the sumpitan, and is constantly in the habit of preparing the poison. "_August 8th._--Off Ujong Sapo, at the entrance of Borneo river. The time since I last added to my most desultory journal is easily accounted for. I have been at Singapore and Malacca, and am now anchored off Borneo Proper, with seven vessels, and an eighth is hourly expected. It is difficult, with such a force, to be moderate; and, with Sir Thomas Cochrane's other duties and engagements, it is probably impossible to devote any length of time on this coast; yet moderation and time are the key-stones of our policy. I have settled all the ceremonial for a meeting between the sultan and the admiral. "The Pangeran Budrudeen came on board H.M.S. Agincourt, with every circumstance of state and ceremony, and met the admiral, I acting as interpreter. It was pleasing to witness his demeanor and bearing, which proved that, in minds of a certain quality, the power of command, though over savages, gives ease and freedom. The ship, the band, the marines, the guns, all excited Budrudeen's attention. On the 9th, it is arranged that the admiral shall meet the sultan and the rajah. "_9th._--In the course of the day, after the audience had terminated, the admiral made his demand of reparation on the sultan and Muda Hassim for the detention and confinement of two British subjects subsequent to their agreement with the British government. Of course, the sultan and the rajah replied that they were not in fault; that the act was Pangeran Usop's, and that he was too powerful for them to control by force. If Sir Thomas Cochrane would punish him, they should be much obliged, as they desired to keep the treaty inviolate. "_10th._--Pangeran Usop had to be summoned; come he would not, and yet I was in hopes that, when he saw the overwhelming force opposed to him, his pride would yield to necessity. About 2 P.M. the steamers took up their positions; the marines were landed, every thing was prepared, yet no symptom of obedience. At length a single shot was fired from the Vixen, by the admiral's order, through the roof of Usop's house, which was instantly returned, thus proving the folly and the temper of the man. In a few minutes his house was tenantless, having been overwhelmed with shot. Usop was a fugitive; the amount of mischief done inconsiderable, and no damage except to the guilty party. Twenty captured guns the admiral presented to the sultan and the rajah; two he kept, from which to remunerate the two detained men. So far nothing could be more satisfactory. Usop has been punished severely, the treaty strictly enforced, and our supremacy maintained. No evil has been done except to the guilty; his house and his property alone have suffered, and the immediate flight has prevented the shedding of blood. "_11th._--At mid-day the admiral, with the Vixen and Nemesis, went down the river, leaving the Pluto to me, to follow in next day. "_12th._--This morning I visited the sultan in company with Muda Hassim. By twelve at night the Pluto was anchored in the creek at Labuan, and on the 13th I once more took up my quarters aboard the flag-ship. "_14th._--Wooding. "_16th._--Last evening anchored within the point called in the chart Sampormangio, or, properly, Sampang Mengayu, which, being translated, signifies piratical or cruising waiting-place. The weather was thick and squally, and it was late before the Dædalus and Vestal arrived with their tows, the Nemesis and Pluto, the former frigate having carried away her mizzen top-mast. "_17th._--Squadron under weigh pretty early, getting into Malludu Bay. After breakfast, had a very heavy squall. Agincourt heeled to it, and sails of various sorts and sizes were blowing about in ribbons aboard some of the ships: afterward brought up nearly off the Melow river. "_18th._--Vixen, Nemesis, Pluto, and boats, proceeded up the bay, and anchored as near as possible to the entrance of the Marudu, or Malludu river. The character of Malludu bay generally may be described as clear of danger, with high, wooded banks on either side, till in the bight, when the land gets flat and mangrovy, and the water shallow, and where the mouths of several small rivers are seen, one of which is Malludu. "_19th._--On the 19th of August was fought the celebrated battle of Malludu; the boats, 24 in number, and containing 550 marines and blue-jackets, having left the previous afternoon. As I was not present, I can say only what I heard from others, and from what I know from subsequently viewing the position. A narrow river with two forts mounting eleven or twelve heavy guns (and defended by from 500 to 1000 fighting men), protected by a strong and well-contrived boom, was the position of the enemy. Our boats took the bull by the horns, and indeed had little other choice; cut away part of the boom under a heavy fire; advanced, and carried the place in a fight protracted for fifty minutes. The enemy fought well and stood manfully to their guns; and a loss of six killed, two mortally and fifteen severely wounded, on our side, was repaid by a very heavy loss of killed and wounded on theirs. Gallant Gibbard, [19] of the Wolverine, fell mortally wounded while working at the boom, ax in hand. In short, the engagement was severe and trying to our men from the fire they were exposed to. At two minutes to nine, aboard the Vixen, we heard the report of the first heavy gun, and it was a time of anxiety and uneasiness till the first column of black smoke proclaimed that the village was fired. "I may here mention that before the fight commenced a flag of truce came from the enemy, and asked for me. Captain Talbot (in command) offered to meet Seriff Houseman either within or without the boom, provided his whole force was with him. Seriff Houseman declined; but offered (kind man!) to admit two gigs to be hauled over the boom. No sooner was this offer declined, and the flag returned the second time with a young Seriff, son of Seriff Layak of Bruni, than the enemy opened fire, which was promptly returned. Had Captain Talbot entered as proposed, I deem it certain he would never have quitted the place alive; for the Seriff and his followers had made themselves up to fight, and nothing but fight. Many chiefs were killed; two or three Seriffs in their large turbans and flowing robes; many Illanuns in their gay dresses and golden charms; many Badjows; many slaves--among them a captive Chinaman; many were wounded; many carried away; and many left on the ground dead or dying. "_20th._--On the evening of the 19th a detachment of ten boats, with fresh men and officers, quitted the Vixen, and arrived at the forts shortly after daylight. I accompanied this party; and the work of destruction, well begun yesterday, was this day completed. Numerous proofs of the piracies of this Seriff came to light. The boom was ingeniously fastened with the chain cable of a vessel of 300 or 400 tons; other chains were found in the town; a ship's long-boat; two ship's bells, one ornamented with grapes and vine leaves, and marked 'Wilhelm Ludwig, Bremen;' and every other description of ship's furniture. Some half-piratical boats, Illanun and Balagnini, were burned; twenty-four or twenty-five brass guns captured; the iron guns, likewise stated to have been got out of a ship, were spiked and otherwise destroyed. Thus has Malluda ceased to exist; and Seriff Houseman's power received a fall from which it will never recover. "Amid this scene of war and devastation was one episode which moved even harder hearts than mine. Twenty-four hours after the action, a poor woman, with her child of two years of age, was discovered in a small canoe; her arm was shattered at the elbow by a grape shot; and the poor creature lay dying for want of water in an agony of pain, with her child playing round her and endeavoring to derive the sustenance which the mother could no longer give. This poor woman was taken on board the Vixen, and in the evening her arm was amputated. To have left her would have been certain death; so I was strongly for the measure of taking her to Sarawak, where she can be protected. To all my inquiries she answered, 'If you please to take me, I shall go. I am a woman, and not a man; I am a slave, and not a free woman: do as you like.' She stated too, positively, that she herself had seen Seriff Houseman wounded in the neck, and carried off; and her testimony is corroborated by two Manilla men, who, among others, ran away on the occasion, and sought protection from us, who likewise say that they saw the Seriff stretched out in the jungle, but they cannot say whether dead or wounded. The proof how great a number must have been killed and wounded on their part is, that on the following day ten dead men were counted lying where they fell; among them was Seriff Mahomed, the bearer of the flag of truce, who, though offered our protection, fought to the last, and in the agonies of death threw a spear at his advancing foes. "The remnant of the enemy retired to Bungun; and it will be some time before we learn their real loss and position. It is needless here to say any thing on the political effects to be expected from the establishment of a government in Bruni, and the destruction of this worst of piratical communities. When I return to Bruni, and see how measures advance, I may mention the subject again; but I will venture here to reurge, that mere military force, however necessary, can not do what it is desirable should be done. Supervision and conciliation must go hand in hand with punishment; and we must watch that the snake does not again rear his head through our neglect. The key-stone is wanting as yet, and must be supplied if possible; we must, to back the gallant deeds of the admiral and fleet, continue to pursue a steady course of measures. In the evening returned to the Vixen. "_21st._--The morning quiet. After breakfast, under weigh; proceeded off the river Bankoka, where we found the Cruiser at anchor. As there was nothing to detain us, crossed over to the squadron--remained an hour aboard Agincourt; then rejoined Sir Thomas Cochrane aboard Vixen, and before dinner-time were at anchor in the northeast side of Balambangan. Our woman prisoner doing well, and pleased with the attention paid her. "_23d._--Southwestern harbor of Balambangan. Yesterday examined the N.E. harbor; a dreary-looking place, sandy and mangrovy, and the harbor itself filled with coral patches; here the remains of our former settlement were found: it is a melancholy and ineligible spot. The S.W. harbor is very narrow and cramped, with no fitting site for a town, on account of the rugged and unequal nature of the ground; and if the town were crammed in between two eminences, it would be deprived of all free circulation of air. Water is, I hear, in sufficient quantity, and good. On the whole, I am wretchedly disappointed with this island; it has one, and only one recommendation, viz., that it is well situated in the Straits for trading and political purposes; in every other requisite it is inferior to Labuan. Balambangan is commercially and politically well placed. Labuan, though inferior, is not greatly inferior in these points; the harbor, the aspect, the soil, are superior: it may probably be added, that the climate is superior likewise; and we must remember that those who had an opportunity of trying both places give the preference to Labuan. "Then, on other points, Labuan has a clear advantage. It commands the coal; it is in the vicinity of a friendly people, and settlement may be formed with certainty and at a moderate expense, and with small establishments. Can this be done at Balambangan? I own I doubt it; the people in the vicinity we know nothing of, but we shall find them, in all probability, hostile. The Sooloos we are already too well acquainted with. The Illanuns are in the vicinity. In the case of Labuan, the details of the first establishment (no small step) can be clearly seen and arranged; but I do not see my way regarding Balambangan. The matter is of secondary importance, but a languishing settlement at first is to be dreaded; food will be scarce, and houses difficult to build; while at Labuan the population of Bruni are at our disposal, and the government our own. I leave others to judge whether a superior (but somewhat similar) position, commercially and politically, will outweigh the other disadvantages mentioned, and repay us for the extra expenses of the establishment; but, for myself, I can give a clear verdict in favor of Labuan. "_24th._--Buried poor Mr. East, of the Agincourt, on Balambangan. Gibbard, poor, gallant fellow, was consigned to the deep a day or two before. "_25th._--A day of disaster and parting: the morning blowy, with an unpleasant sea. Vestal ran ashore on a coral-patch, but soon swung off. I was very sorry to part with the Agincourt. Farewell, gallant Agincourts! farewell, kind admiral! farewell, the pride, pomp, and panoply of a flag-ship liner! My occupation's over for the present, and I retire with content to solitude and the jungle of Sarawak. I step down the huge side, wave a parting adieu, jump on the Cruiser's deck--the anchor is weighed, and away we fly. "_30th._--Coming down in her majesty's ship Cruiser, and now off Ujong Sapo. On our passage we had some good views of Kina Balow, and from various points; judging the distance by the chart, the angle of elevation gives the mountain not less than 12,000 feet and up to 14,000; the latter result agreeing with the computation of the master of the Dædalus. "_31st._--Started for Bruni, and half way met a boat with Pangeran Illudeen, bringing the news of the place. Two days after the admiral and his steamers left, Pangeran Usop seized the hill behind his late house with 300 Kadiens, and commenced an attack on the town. Pangeran Budrudeen on this mustered about the like number and mounted the hill, and by a fire of musketry dislodged the enemy, who retired, stood again, were again defeated, and finally dispersed. This victory raised the courage of the Brunions, and a counter-attack was planned, when the arrival of her majesty's ship Espiegle delayed them. As the officers of the Espiegle and the rajah could not speak a word of each other's language, the boat only stayed a few hours, and went away in ignorance of the condition of the town. After her departure, Budrudeen gathered about a thousand men of all arms, with some hundred muskets; and leaving Bruni at three o'clock in the morning, reached the landing-place at 6 A.M., and at eight marched for Barukas, where they arrived at one o'clock. On the way the Kadiens humbled themselves, and begged their houses might be spared, which were spared accordingly. On reaching Barukas, they found Pangeran Usop had been deserted by the Kadiens, and was in no way expecting their coming. The few persons who remained fled ignominiously, Pangeran Usop showing them the example; and his women, children, gold, and other property, fell into the hands of his victors. The same evening Budrudeen returned to the city in triumph; and there can be no doubt these vigorous measures have not only settled them in power, but have likewise raised the spirits of their adherents, and awed the few who remain adverse. 'Never,' the Brunions exclaim, 'was such a war in Bruni. Pangeran Budrudeen fights like a European; the very spirit of the Englishman is in him; he has learned this at Sarawak.' Fortune favored Usop's escape. He fled to the sea-shore near Pulo Badukan, and there met a boat of his entering from Kimanis: he took possession and put out to sea, and returned with her to that place. "Budrudeen we found in active preparation for pursuit. A dozen war-prahus were nearly ready for sea, and this force starts directly we depart. "Budrudeen's vigor has given a stimulus to this unwarlike people, and he has gained so great a character--victory sits so lightly on his plume--that his authority will now be obeyed; while Usop, in consequence of his cowardly flight (for so they deem it), from the want of energy he has displayed, has lost character as well as wealth, and would scarce find ten men in Bruni to follow him. Unluckily for himself, he was a great boaster in the days of his prosperity; and now the contrast of his past boasting with his present cowardice is drawn with a sneer. 'His mouth was brave,' they exclaim, 'but his heart timid.' 'He should have died as other great men have died, and not have received such shame; he should have amoked, [20] or else given himself up for execution.' This seems to be the general impression in the city. "My mind is now at rest about the fate of my friends; but I still consider a man-of-war brig coming here every month or two as of great importance; for it will be necessary for the next six months to consolidate the power of Muda Hassim and Budrudeen; and if, with the new order of things, they constantly see white faces, and find that they are quiet and inoffensive, the ignorant terror which now prevails will abate. Besides this, we might find the opportunity a favorable one for becoming acquainted with the Kadiens and the Marats, and giving them just impressions of ourselves; for I have no doubt that on the late occasion the Kadiens were worked upon by all kinds of false reports of the pale faces taking their lands, burning their houses, &c., &c., &c. We only see the effects; we do not see (until we become very well acquainted with them) the strings which move the passions of these people. The Kadiens are, however, an unwarlike and gentle race, and have now given in their submission to Muda Hassim. I do not mention the sultan, because, as I before said, he is so imbecile that, as regards public affairs, he is a cipher: he will some day cease to be sultan, and give place to a better man. "Our interview with the rajah, with Budrudeen, and all the other host of our acquaintance, was quite a triumph--they hot with their success, and we bringing the account of Malludu's sanguinary fight. Happy faces and wreathed smiles supplied the place of the anxious and doubtful expression which I had left them wearing. All vied in their attentions; fruit enough to fill a room: the luscious durian, the delicate mangosteen and lousch, the grateful rombusteen, the baluna, pitabu, mowha, plantain, &c., &c., were showered upon us from all quarters. The rajah daily sent a dinner; all was rejoicing, and few or no clouds lowered in the distance. I was proud and happy; for I felt and feel that much of this has been owing to my exertions. I will not stop to say how or why; but I first taught them to respect and to confide in Englishmen, and no one else has yet untaught them this lesson. "_September 3d._--After parting interviews we quitted the city at two, and arrived aboard her majesty's ship cruiser at eight P.M. To-morrow morning we sail for Sarawak, where, at any rate, I hope for rest for a month or two. "_19th._--Sarawak. Thus concludes a large volume. Captain Bethune and myself, with Commander Fanshawe and a party of Cruisers, returned from a five days' excursion among the Dyaks, having visited the Suntah, Stang, Sigo, and Sanpro tribes. It was a progress; at each tribe there was dancing, and a number of ceremonies. White fowls were waved as I have before described, slaughtered, and the blood mixed with kunyit, a yellow root, &c., &c., which delightful mixture was freely scattered over them and their goods by me, holding in my hand a dozen or two women's necklaces. Captain Bethune has seen and can appreciate the Dyaks: to-morrow he leaves me, and most sorry shall I be to lose him. A better man or a better public servant is not to be found. "Among my Dyak inquiries, I found out that the name of their god is Tuppa, and not Jovata, which they before gave me, and which they use, but do not acknowledge. Tuppa is the great god; eight other gods were in heaven; one fell or descended into Java--seven remained above; one of these is named Sakarra, who, with his companions and followers, is (or is in) the constellation of a cluster of stars, doubtless the Pleiades; and by the position of this constellation the Dyaks can judge good and bad fortune. If this cluster of stars be high in the heavens, success will attend the Dyak; when it sinks below the horizon, ill luck follows; fruit and crops will not ripen; war and famine are dreaded. Probably originally this was but a simple and natural division of the seasons, which has now become a gross superstition. "The progress is ended; to-morrow I shall be left in the solitude and the quiet of the jungle: but, after witnessing the happiness, the plenty, the growing prosperity of the Dyak tribes, I can scarcely believe that I could devote my life to better purpose, and I dread that a removal might destroy what I have already done. "We must now wait the decision of government with patience. Captain Bethune, in making his report, will have the advantage of real substantial personal knowledge. I esteem him highly, and regard him as a man of the most upright principles, who is not, and will not be swayed in his duty by any considerations whatever. I am glad we are to stand the ordeal of such a man's inquiry." CHAPTER XXIII. Borneo, its geographical bounds and leading divisions.--British settlements in 1775.--The province of Sarawak formally ceded by the sultan in perpetuity to Mr. Brooke its present ruler.--General view of the Dyaks, the aborigines of Borneo.--The Dyaks of Sarawak, and adjoining tribes; their past oppression and present position. I will now endeavor to make the reader better acquainted with the nature of a country and people so imperfectly known, by offering that general view of its past events and present condition which will make the information respecting them more intelligible, as well as applicable to new circumstances and future measures. By looking at the map, it will be seen that the island of Borneo extends over 11 degrees of latitude and as many of longitude, from 4° N. to 7° S., and 108° to 119° E. The N.W. coast is but thinly populated; and the natives who inhabit the banks of some of the beautiful rivers differ, as has been already stated, from each other in manners and customs, and have but little communication among themselves. The S., E., and N.E. coasts of Borneo are also but thinly inhabited, and very little known. There are various divisions of Malays, as well as different tribes of Dyaks, who live in an unsettled state, and occasionally make war on one another: their principal occupation, however, is piracy. The north part of the island was once in the possession of the East India Company, who had a settlement and factory on the island of Balambangan, which was attacked in 1775, when in a weak and unguarded state, by a powerful piratical tribe of Sooloos, who surprised the fort, put the sentries to death, and turned the guns on the troops, who were chiefly Buguese (or Bugis) Malays. Those who escaped got on board the vessels in the harbor, and reached the island of Labuan, near the mouth of the Borneo river; while the booty obtained by the pirates was estimated at 375,000_l._ From that time to this these atrocious pirates have never been punished, and still continue their depredations. The remainder of the coast on the N.W. is now called Borneo Proper, to distinguish it from the name that custom has given to the whole island, the original name of which was Kalamantan, and Bruni that of the town now called Borneo. The latter was probably the first part of the coast ever visited by Europeans, who consequently extended the appellation to the island itself. The town of Borneo, situated on the river of that name, was, until the last few years, a port of some wealth, and carrying on an extensive trade, which has been ruined entirely by the rapacity of the Malay chiefs, who have now but little control over that part of Borneo Proper which lies to the northward of the river. The province of Sarawak is situated at the S.W. end of Borneo Proper, and was formally ceded in perpetuity by the sultan in 1843 to Mr. Brooke, who, indeed, had possessed the almost entire management of the district for the two previous years. "It extends from Tanjong Datu (I quote from Mr. Brooke's description of his territory) to the entrance of the Samarahan river, a distance along the coast of about sixty miles in an E.S.E. direction, with an average breadth of fifty miles. It is bounded to the westward by the Sambas territory, to the southward by a range of mountains which separate it from the Pontiana river, and to the eastward by the Borneon territory of Sadong. Within this space then are several rivers and islands, which it is needless here to describe at length, as the account of the river of Sarawak will answer alike for the rest. There are two navigable entrances to this river, and numerous smaller branches for boats, both to the westward and eastward; the two principal entrances combine at about twelve miles from the sea, and the river flows for twenty miles into the interior in a southerly and westerly direction, when it again forms two branches--one running to the right, the other to the left hand, as far as the mountain range. Beside these facilities for water-communication, there exist three other branches from the easternmost entrance, called Morotaba, one of which joins the Samarahan river, and the two others flow from different points of the mountain range already mentioned. The country is diversified by detached mountains, and the mountain range has an elevation of about three thousand feet. The aspect of the country may be generally described as low and woody at the entrance of the rivers, except a few high mountains; but in the interior undulating in parts, and part presenting fine level plains. The climate may be pronounced healthy and cool, though for the six months from September to March a great quantity of rain falls. During my three visits to this place, which have been prolonged to eight months, and since residing here, we have been clear of sickness, and during the entire period not one of three deaths could be attributed to the effects of climate. The more serious maladies of tropical climates are very infrequent; from fever and dysentery we have been quite free, and the only complaints have been rheumatism, colds, and ague; the latter, however, attacked us in the interior, and no one has yet had it at Sarawak, which is situated about twenty-five miles from the mouth of the river. "The soil and productions of this country are of the richest description, and it is not too much to say, that, within the same given space, there are not to be found the same mineral and vegetable riches in any land in the world. I propose to give a brief detail of them, beginning with the soil of the plains, which is moist and rich, and calculated for the growth of rice, for which purpose it was formerly cleared and used, until the distractions of the country commenced. From the known industry of the Dyaks, and their partiality to rice-cultivation, there can be little doubt that it would become an article of extensive export, provided security were given to the cultivator and a proper remuneration for his produce. The lower grounds, beside rice, are well adapted for the growth of sago, and produce canes, rattans, and forest-timber of the finest description for ship-building and other useful purposes. The Chinese export considerable quantities of timber from Sambas and Pontiana, particularly of the kind called Balean by the natives, or the lion-wood of the Europeans; and at this place it is to be had in far greater quantity and nearer the place of sale. The undulating ground differs in soil, some portions of it being a yellowish clay, while the rest is a rich mold; these grounds, generally speaking, as well as the slopes of the higher mountains, are admirably calculated for the growth of nutmegs, coffee, pepper, or any of the more valuable vegetable productions of the tropics. Beside the above mentioned articles, there are birds'-nests, bees-wax, and several kinds of scented wood, in demand at Singapore, which are all collected by the Dyaks, and would be gathered in far greater quantity provided the Dyak was allowed to sell them. "Turning from the vegetable to the mineral riches of the country, we have diamonds, gold, tin, iron, and antimony ore certain; I have lately sent what I believe to be a specimen of lead ore to Calcutta; and copper is reported. It must be remembered, in reading this list, that the country is as yet unexplored by a scientific person, and that the inquiries of a geologist and a mineralogist would throw further light on the minerals of the mountains, and the spots where they are to be found in the greatest plenty. The diamonds are stated to be found in considerable numbers, and of a good water; and I judge the statement to be correct from the fact that the diamond-workers from Sandak come here and work secretly, and the people from Banjamassim, who are likewise clever at this trade, are most desirous to be allowed to work for the precious stone. Gold of a good quality certainly is to be found in large quantities. The eagerness and perseverance of the Chinese to establish themselves is a convincing proof of the fact; and ten years since a body of about 3000 of them had great success in procuring gold by their ordinary mode of trenching the ground. "The quantity of gold yearly procured at Sambas is moderately stated at 130,000 bunkals, which, reckoned at the low rate of 20 Spanish dollars a bunkal, gives 2,600,000 Spanish dollars, or upward of half a million sterling. The most intelligent Chinese are of opinion, that the quantity here exceeds that at Sambas; and there is no good reason to suppose it would fall short of it were once a sufficient Chinese population settled in the country. "Antimony ore is a staple commodity, which is to be procured in any quantity. Tin is said to be plentiful, and the Chinese propose working it; but I have had no opportunity of visiting the spot where it is found. Copper, though reported, has not been brought; and the iron ore I have examined is of inferior quality. The specimen of what I supposed to be lead ore has been forwarded to Calcutta, and it remains to be seen what its value may be. And beside the above-mentioned minerals, there can be little doubt of many others being discovered, if the mountain range was properly explored by any man of science. Many other articles of minor importance might be mentioned; but it is needless to add to a list which contains articles of such value, and which would prove the country equal in vegetable and mineral productions to any in the world. "From the productions (continues Mr. Brooke) I turn to the inhabitants, and I feel sure that in describing their sufferings and miseries I shall command the interest and sympathy of every person of humanity, and that the claims of the virtuous and most unhappy Dyaks will meet with the same attention as those of the African. And these claims have the advantage, that much good may be done without the vast expenditure of lives and money which the exertions on the African coast yearly demand, and that the people would readily appreciate the good that was conferred upon them, and rapidly rise in the scale of civilization." The inhabitants may be divided into three different classes, viz. the Malays, the Chinese, and the Dyaks; of the two former little need be said, as they are so well known. The Dyaks (or more properly Dyak) of Borneo offer to our view a primitive state of society; and their near resemblance to the Tarajahs of Celebes, [21] to the inland people of Sumatra, and probably to the Arafuras of Papua, [22] in customs, manners, and language, affords reason for the conclusion that these are the aboriginal race of the Eastern Archipelago, nearly stationary in their original condition. While successive waves of civilization have swept onward the rest of the inhabitants, while tribes as wild have arisen to power, flourished, and decayed, the Dyak in his native jungles still retains the feelings of earlier times, and shows the features of society as it existed before the influx of foreign races either improved or corrupted the native character. The name "Dyak" has been indiscriminately applied to all the wild people on the island of Borneo; but as the term is never so used by themselves, and as they differ greatly, not only in name, but in their customs and manners, we will briefly, in the first instance, mention the various distinct nations, the general locality of each, and some of their distinguishing peculiarities. 1st. The Dusun, or villagers of the northern extremity of the island, are a race of which Mr. Brooke knows nothing personally; but the name implies that they are an agricultural people: they are represented as not being tattooed, as using the sumpitan, and as having a peculiar dialect. [23] 2d. The Murut. They inhabit the interior of Borneo Proper. They are not tattooed, always use the sumpitan, and have a peculiar dialect. In the same locality, and resembling the Murut, are some tribes called the Basaya. 3d. The Kadians (or Idaans of voyagers) use the sumpitan, and have likewise a peculiar dialect; but in other respects they nowise differ from the Borneons, either in religion, dress, or mode of life. They are, however, an industrious, peaceful people, who cultivate the ground in the vicinity of Borneo Proper, and nearly as far as Tanjong Barram. The wretched capital is greatly dependent upon them, and, from their numbers and industry, they form a valuable population. In the interior, and on the Balyet river, which discharges itself near Tanjong Barram, is a race likewise called Kadian, not converted to Islam, and which still retains the practice of "taking heads." 4th. The Kayan. The Kayans are the most numerous, the most powerful, and the most warlike people in Borneo. They are an inland race, and their locality extends from about sixty miles up the country from Tanjong Barram to the same extent farther into the interior, in latitude 3° 30' N., and thence across the island to probably a similar distance from the eastern shore. Their customs, manners, and dress are peculiar, and present most of the characteristic features of a wild and independent people. The Malays of the N.W. coast fear the Kayans, and rarely enter their country; but the Millanows are familiar with them, and there have thence been obtained many particulars respecting them. They are represented as extremely hospitable, generous, and kind to strangers, strictly faithful to their word, and honest in their dealings; but on the other hand, they are fierce and bloodthirsty, and when on an expedition, slaughter without sparing. The Kayans are partially tattooed, use the sumpitan, have many dialects, and are remarkable for the strange and apparently mutilating custom adopted by the males, and mentioned by Sir Stamford Raffles. 5th. To the southward and westward of Barram are the Millanows, [24] who inhabit the rivers not far from the sea. They are, generally speaking, an intelligent, industrious, and active race, the principal cultivators of sago, and gatherers of the famous camphor barus. Their locality extends from Tanjong Barram to Tanjong Sirak. In person they are stout and well-made, of middling height, round good-tempered countenances, and fairer than the Malays. They have several dialects among them, use the sumpitan, and are not tattooed. They retain the practice of taking heads, but they seldom seek them, and have little of the ferocity of the Kayan. 6th. In the vicinity of the Kayans and Millanows are some wild tribes, called the Tatows, Balanian, Kanowit, &c. They are probably only a branch of Kayans, though differing from them in being elaborately tattooed over the entire body. They have peculiar dialects, use the sumpitan, and are a wild and fierce people. 7th. The Dyak. They are divided into Dyak Darrat and Dyak Laut, or land and sea Dyaks. The Dyak Lauts, as their name implies, frequent the sea; and it is needless to say much of them, as their difference from the Dyak Darrat is a difference of circumstances only. The tribes of Sarebus and Sakarran, whose rivers are situated in the deep bay between Tanjong Sipang and Tanjong Sirak, are powerful communities, and dreadful pirates, who ravage the coast in large fleets, and murder and rob indiscriminately; but this is by no means to be esteemed a standard of Dyak character. In these expeditions the Malays often join them, and they are likewise made the instruments for oppressing the Laut tribes. The Sarebus and Sakarran are fine men, fairer than the Malays, with sharp keen eyes, thin lips, and handsome countenances, though frequently marked by an expression of cunning. The Balows and Sibnowans are amiable tribes, decidedly warlike, but not predatory; and the latter combines the virtues of the Dyak character with much of the civilization of the Malays. The Dyak Laut do not tattoo, nor do they use the sumpitan; their language assimilates closely to the Malay, and was doubtless originally identical with that of the inland tribes. The name of God among them is Battara (the Avatara of the Hindoos). They bury their dead, and in the graves deposit a large portion of the property of the deceased, often to a considerable value in gold ornaments, brass guns, jars, and arms. Their marriage ceremony consists in two fowls being killed, and the forehead and breast of the young couple being touched with the blood; after which the chief, or an old man, knocks their heads together several times, and the ceremony is completed with mirth and feasting. In these two instances they differ from the Dyak Darrat. It must be observed that the Dyak also differs from the Kayan in not being tattooed; and from the Kayan Millanows, &c., in not using the _national_ weapon--the sumpitan. The Kayan and the Dyak, as general distinctions, though they differ in dialect, in dress, in weapons, and probably in religion, agree in their belief of similar omens, and, above all, in their practice of taking the heads of their enemies; but with the Kayan this practice assumes the aspect of an indiscriminate desire of slaughter, while with the Dyak it is but the trophy acquired in legitimate warfare. The Kadians form the only exception to this rule, in consequence of their conversion to Islam; and it is but reasonable to suppose, that with a slight exertion in favor of Christianity, others might be induced to lay aside this barbarous custom. With respect to the dialects, though the difference is considerable, they are evidently derived from a common source; but it is remarkable that some words in the Millanow and Kayan are similar to the Bugis and Badjow language. This intermixture of dialects, which can be linked together, appears to be more conclusive of the common origin of the wild tribes and civilized nations of the Archipelago than most other arguments; and if Marsden's position be correct (which there can be little or no reason to doubt), that the Polynesian is an original race with an original language, [25] it must likewise be conceded that the wild tribes represent the primitive state of society in these islands. We know little of the wild tribes of Celebes beyond their general resemblance to the Kayans of the east coast of Borneo; and it is probable that the Kayans are the people of Celebes, who crossing the Strait of Makassar, have in time by their superior prowess possessed themselves of the country of the Dyaks. Mr. Brooke (from whom I am copying this sketch) is led to entertain this opinion from a slight resemblance in their dialects with those used in Celebes, from the difference in so many of their customs from those of the Dyaks, and from the Kayans of the _northwest coast of Borneo_ having one custom in common with the wild tribe of Minkoka in the Bay of Boni. Both the Kayans and Minkokas on the death of a relative seek for a head; and on the death of their chief many human heads must be procured: which practice is unknown to the Dyak. It may further be remarked, that their probable immigration from Celebes is supported by the statement of the Millanows, that the Murut and Dyak give place to the Kayan whenever they come in contact, and that the latter people have depopulated large tracts in the interior, which were once occupied by the former. Having thus briefly noticed the different wild people of the island, I proceed with the more particular task of describing the Dyak Darrats. The locality of these Dyaks may be marked as follows:--The Pontiana river, from its mouth, is traced into the interior toward the northward and westward, until it approaches at the farthest within 100 miles of the northwest coast; a line drawn in latitude 3° N. till it intersects the course of the Pontiana river will point out the limit of the country inhabited by the Dyak. Within this inconsiderable portion of the island, which includes Sambas, Landak, Pontiana, Sangow, Sarawak, &c., are numerous tribes, all of which agree in their leading customs, and make use of nearly the same dialect. Personally (writes our sole authority for any intelligence respecting them), I am acquainted only with the tribes of Sarawak and some tribes further in the interior beyond the government of the Malays, who inhabit the country between Sarawak and Landak; and the description of one tribe will serve as a description of all, so little do they vary. Before, however, I say anything of the character of the Dyaks, or their temper, it will be necessary to describe briefly the government under which they live, and the influence it has upon them; and if afterward in the recital there appear some unamiable points in their character, an allowance will be made for their failings, which those who rule them would not deserve. The Dyaks have from time immemorial been looked upon as the bondsmen of the Malays, and the rajahs consider them much in the same light as they would a drove of oxen--_i. e._ as personal and disposable property. They were governed in Sarawak by three local officers, called the Patingi, the Bandar, and the Tumangong. To the Patingi they paid a small yearly revenue of rice, but this deficiency of revenue was made up by sending them a quantity of goods--chiefly salt, Dyak cloths, and iron--and demanding a price for them six or eight times more than their value. The produce collected by the Dyaks was also monopolized, and the edible birds'-nests, bees-wax, &c. &c. were taken at a price fixed by the Patingi, who moreover claimed mats, fowls, fruits, and every other necessary at his pleasure, and could likewise make the Dyaks work for him for merely a nominal remuneration. This system, not badly devised, had it been limited within the bounds of moderation, would have left the Dyaks plenty for all their wants; or had the local officers known their own interest, they would have protected those upon whom they depended for revenue, and under the worst oppression of one man the Dyaks would have deemed themselves happy. Such unfortunately was not the case; for the love of immediate gain overcame every other consideration, and by degrees old-established customs were thrown aside, and new ones substituted in their place. When the Patingi had received all he thought proper to extort, his relatives first claimed the right of arbitrary trade, and gradually it was extended as the privilege of every respectable person in the country to serra [26] the Dyaks. The poor Dyak, thus at the mercy of half the Malay population, was never allowed to refuse compliance with these demands; he could plead neither poverty, inability, nor even hunger, as an excuse, for the answer was ever ready: "Give me your wife or one of your children;" and in case he could not supply what was required, the wife or the child was taken, and became a slave. Many modes of extortion were resorted to; a favorite one was convicting the Dyak of a fault and imposing a fine upon him. Some ingenuity and much trickery were shown in this game, and new offences were invented as soon as the old pleas would serve no longer; for instance, if a Malay met a Dyak in a boat which pleased him, he notched it, as a token that it was his property; in one day, if the boat was a new one, perhaps three or more would place their marks on it; and as only one could get it, the Dyak to whom the boat really belonged had to pay the others _for his fault_. This, however, was only "a fault;" whereas, for a Dyak to injure a Malay, directly or indirectly, purposely or otherwise, was a _high offence_, and punished by a proportionate fine. If a Dyak's house was in bad repair, and a Malay fell in consequence and was hurt, or pretended to be hurt, a fine was imposed; if a Malay in the jungle was wounded by the springs set for a wild boar, or by the wooden spikes which the Dyaks for protection put about their village, or scratched himself and said he was injured, the penalty was heavy; if the Malay was _really hurt_, ever so accidentally, it was the ruin of the Dyak. And these numerous and uninvited guests came and went at pleasure, lived in free quarters, made their requisitions, and then forced the Dyak to carry away for them the very property of which he had been robbed. This is a fair picture of the governments under which the Dyaks live; and although they were often roused to resistance, it was always fruitless, and only involved them in deeper troubles; for the Malays could quickly gather a large force of sea Dyaks from Sakarran, who were readily attracted by hope of plunder, and who, supported by the fire-arms of their allies, were certain to overcome any single tribe that held out. The misfortunes of the Dyaks of Sarawak did not stop here. Antimony ore was discovered; the cupidity of the Borneons was roused; then Pangerans struggled for the prize; intrigues and dissensions ensued; and the inhabitants of Sarawak in turn felt the very evil they had inflicted on the Dyaks; while the Dyaks were compelled, amid their other wrongs, to labor at the ore without any recompense, and to the neglect of their rice-cultivation. Many died in consequence of this compulsory labor, so contrary to their habits and inclinations; and more would doubtless have fallen victims, had not civil war rescued them from this evil, to inflict upon them others a thousand times worse. Extortion had before been carried on by individuals, but now it was systematized; and Pangerans of rank, for the sake of plunder, sent bodies of Malays and Sakarran Dyaks to attack the different tribes. The men were slaughtered, the women and children carried off into slavery, the villages burned, the fruit-trees cut down, [27] and all their property destroyed or seized. The Dyaks could no longer live in tribes, but sought refuge in the mountains or the jungle, a few together; and as one of them pathetically described it--"We do not live," he said, "like men; we are like monkeys; we are hunted from place to place; we have no houses; and when we light a fire, we fear the smoke will draw our enemies upon us." In the course of ten years, under the circumstances detailed--from enforced labor, from famine, from slavery, from sickness, from the sword--one half of the Dyak population [28] disappeared; and the work of extirpation would have gone on at an accelerated pace, had the remnant been left to the tender mercies of the Pangerans; but chance (we may much more truly say Providence) led our countryman Mr. Brooke to this scene of misery, and enabled him, by circumstances far removed beyond the grounds of calculation, to put a stop to the sufferings of an amiable people. There are twenty tribes in Sarawak, on about fifty square miles of land. The appearance of the Dyaks is prepossessing: they have good-natured faces, with a mild and subdued expression; eyes set far apart, and features sometimes well formed. In person they are active, of middling height, and not distinguishable from the Malays in complexion. The women are neither so good-looking nor well-formed as the men, but they have the same expression, and are cheerful and kind-tempered. The dress of the men consists of a piece of cloth about fifteen feet long, passed between the legs and fastened round the loins, with the ends hanging before and behind; the head-dress is composed of bark-cloth, dyed bright yellow, and stuck up in front so as to resemble a tuft of feathers. The arms and legs are often ornamented with rings of silver, brass, or shell; and necklaces are worn, made of human teeth, or those of bears or dogs, or of white beads, in such numerous strings as to conceal the throat. A sword on one side, a knife and small betel-basket on the other, complete the ordinary equipment of the males; but when they travel they carry a basket slung from the forehead, on which is a palm-mat, to protect the owner and his property from the weather. The women wear a short and scanty petticoat, reaching from the loins to the knees, and a pair of black bamboo stays, which are never removed except the wearer be _enceinte_. They have rings of brass or red bamboo about the loins, and sometimes ornaments on the arms; the hair is worn long; the ears of both sexes are pierced, and earrings of brass inserted occasionally; the teeth of the young people are sometimes filed to a point and discolored, as they say that "Dogs have white teeth." They frequently dye their feet and hands of a bright red or yellow color; and the young people, like those of other countries, affect a degree of finery and foppishness, while the elders invariably lay aside all ornaments, as unfit for a wise person or one advanced in years. In character the Dyak is mild and tractable, hospitable when he is well used, grateful for kindness, industrious, honest, and simple; neither treacherous nor cunning, and so truthful that the word of one of them might safely be taken before the oath of half-a-dozen Borneons. In their dealings they are very straightforward and correct, and so trustworthy that they rarely attempt, even after a lapse of years, to evade payment of a just debt. On the reverse of this picture there is little unfavorable to be said; and the wonder is, they have learned so little deceit or falsehood where the examples before them have been so rife. The temper of the Dyak inclines to be sullen; and they oppose a dogged and stupid obstinacy when set to a task which displeases them, and support with immovable apathy torrents of abuse or entreaty. They are likewise distrustful, fickle, apt to be led away, and evasive in concealing the amount of their property; but these are the vices rather of situation than of character, for they have been taught by bitter experience that their rulers set no limits to their exactions, and that hiding is their only chance of retaining a portion of the grain they have raised. They are, at the same time, fully aware of the customs by which their ancestors were governed, and are constantly appealing to them as a rule of right, and frequently arguing with the Malay on the subject. Upon these occasions they are silenced, but not convinced; and the Malay, while he evades or bullies when it is needful, is sure to appeal to these very much-abused customs whenever it serves his purpose. The manners of the Dyaks with strangers are reserved to an extent rarely seen among rude or half-civilized people; but on a better acquaintance (which is not readily acquired), they are open and talkative, and, when heated with their favorite beverage, lively, and evincing more shrewdness and observation than they have gained credit for possessing. Their ideas, as may well be supposed, are very limited; they reckon with their fingers and toes, and few are clever enough to count beyond twenty; but when they repeat the operation, they record each twenty by making a knot on a string. Like other wild people, the slightest restraint is irksome, and no temptation will induce them to stay long from their favorite jungle. It is there they seek the excitement of war, the pleasures of the chase, the labors of the field, and the abundance of fruit in the rich produce which assists in supporting their families. The pathless jungle is endeared to them by every association which influences the human mind, and they languish when prevented from roaming there as inclination dictates. With reference to the gradual advance of the Dyaks, Mr. Brooke observes in an early part of his journal:--"The peaceful and gentle aborigines--how can I speak too favorably of their improved condition? These people, who, a few years since, suffered every extreme of misery from war, slavery, and starvation, are now comfortably lodged, and comparatively rich. A stranger might now pass from village to village, and he would receive their hospitality, and see their padi stored in their houses. He would hear them proclaim their happiness, and praise the white man as their friend and protector. Since the death of Parembam, no Dyak of Sarawak lost his life by violence, until a month since, when two were cut off by the Sakarran Dyaks. None of the tribes have warred among themselves; and I believe their war excursions to a distance in the interior have been very few, and those undertaken by the Sarambos. What punishment is sufficient for the wretch who finds this state of things so baleful as to attempt to destroy it? Yet such a wretch is Seriff Sahib. In describing the condition of the Dyaks, I do not say that it is perfect, or that it may not be still further improved; but with people in their state of society innovations ought not rashly or hastily to be made; as the civilized being ought constantly to bear in mind, that what is clear to him is not clear to a savage; that intended benefits _may_ be regarded as positive injuries; and that his motives are not, and scarcely can be, appreciated! The greatest evil, perhaps, from which the Dyaks suffer, is the influence of the Datus or chiefs; but this influence is never carried to oppression, and is only used to obtain the expensive luxury of 'birds'-nests' at a cheap rate. In short, the Dyaks are happy and content; and their gradual development must now be left to the work of time, aided by the gentlest persuasion, and advanced (if attainable) by the education of their children." The latest accounts from Sarawak describe the increasing prosperity of that interesting settlement. Among other recent intelligence I have heard from Mr. Brooke that Seriff Sahib died of a broken heart, shortly after his arrival at the Pontiana river. CHAPTER XXIV. Proposed British settlement on the northwest coast of Borneo, and occupation of the island of Labuan.--Governor Crawfurd's opinions thereon. The establishment of a British settlement on the northwest coast of Borneo, and the occupation of the island of Labuan, are measures that have for some time past been under consideration by her majesty's government; and I am courteously enabled to lay before my readers the valuable opinions of Mr. Crawfurd (late Governor of Singapore) on this subject: "I am of opinion (Mr. Crawfurd writes) that a settlement on the northwest coast of Borneo--that is, at a convenient point on the southern shore of the China Sea--would be highly advantageous to this country, as a coal depôt for steam navigation; as a means of suppressing Malayan piracy; as a harbor of refuge for ships disabled in the China Sea; and finally, as a commanding position during a naval war. "The island of Labuan has been pointed out for this purpose; and as far as our present limited knowledge of it will allow me to judge, it appears to possess all the necessary qualities for such a settlement. "The requisite properties are, salubrity of climate, a good harbor, a position in the track of steam-navigation, conveniency of position for ships disabled in typhoons, conveniency of position for our cruisers during war, and a locality strong and circumscribed by nature, so as to be readily capable of cheap defence. "Labuan lies in about 6° of north latitude, and consequently the average heat will be about 83° of Fahrenheit; the utmost range of the thermometer will not exceed ten degrees. In short, the year is a perpetual hot summer. It is, at the same time, well ventilated by both monsoons; and being near twenty miles from the marshy shores of the Borneo river, there is little ground to apprehend that it will be found unhealthy, even if those shores themselves had been ascertained to be so, which, however, is not the case; for, in proof of their salubrity, it may be stated, that the town of Borneo is healthy, although it stands, and has stood for centuries, on the flooded banks of the river; the houses being built on posts, and chiefly accessible by boat. "With respect to harbor, a most essential point, I do not perceive that the island is indented by any bay or inlet that would answer the purpose of one. [29] The channel, however, which lies between it and the mainland of Borneo is but seven miles broad, and will probably constitute a spacious and convenient harbor. The name of the island itself, which means anchorage, I have no doubt is derived from the place affording shelter to native shipping, and those probably, in most cases, fleets of pirate prahus. This channel is again further restricted by four islets, and these, with four more lying to the southwest, will afford shelter in the southwest or mild monsoon; protection is given in the northeast, the severest monsoon, by Labuan itself: and I may add, that the island is, by four degrees of latitude, beyond the extreme southern limit of the typhoons of the Chinese Sea. "In the channel between Labuan and the main, or rather between Labuan and the islets already mentioned, the soundings on the Admiralty chart show that vessels drawing as much as eighteen feet water may anchor within a mile of the shore, and the largest vessels within a mile and a half; a convenience for shipping which greatly exceeds that of Singapore. One of the advantages of Labuan will be that it will prove a port of refuge for shipping disabled in the storms of the Chinese Seas. Many examples, indeed some of recent occurrence, might be adduced to show the need there is of such a port. "Labuan lies nearly in the direct track both of steam and sailing navigation from India to China, during the northeast, the worst and severest of the two monsoons; and is as intermediate a position between Singapore and Hong Kong as can be found, being 700 miles from the former and 1000 from the latter. "The insular character and narrow limits of Labuan will make it easily and cheaply defensible. The extreme length of the island appears to be about six miles, its greatest breadth about four and a half, and probably its whole area will not be found to exceed thirty square miles. "From the rude tribes of the immediate vicinity no hostile attack is to be apprehended that would make the present erection of forts or batteries necessary. No Asiatic enemy is at any time to be feared that would make such defences requisite. In five-and-twenty years it has not been found imperative to have recourse to them at Singapore. It is only in case of war with a naval power that fortifications would be required; but I am not informed what local advantages Labuan possesses for their erection. A principal object of such fortifications would be the defence of the shipping in the harbor from the inroads of an enemy's cruisers. At one point the soundings, as given in the Admiralty chart, are stated nine fathoms, within three quarters of a mile of the shore; and I presume that batteries within this distance would afford protection to the largest class of merchantmen. In Singapore Roads no class of shipping above mere native craft can lie nearer than two miles of the shore; so that in a war with a European naval power, the merchant shipping there can only be defended by her majesty's navy. "One of the most striking national advantages to be expected from the possession of Labuan would consist in its use in defending our own commerce, and attacking that of opponents, in the event of a naval war. Between the eastern extremity of the Straits of Malacca and Hong Kong, a distance of 1700 miles, there is no British harbor, and no safe and accessible port of refuge; Hong Kong is, indeed, the only spot within the wide limits of the Chinese Sea for such a purpose, although our legitimate commercial intercourse within it extends over a length of 2000 miles. Everywhere else, Manilla and the newly opened ports of China excepted, our crippled vessels or our merchantmen pursued by the enemy's cruisers, are met by the exclusion or extortion of semi-barbarous nations, or in danger of falling into the power of robbers and savages. "Labuan fortified, and supposing the Borneon coal to be as productive and valuable in quality as it is represented, would give Great Britain in a naval war the entire command of the China Sea. This would be the result of our possessing or commanding the only available supply of coal, that of Bengal and Australia excepted, to be found in the wide limits which extend east of the continents of Europe and America. "The position of Labuan will render it the most convenient possible for the suppressing of piracy. The most desperate and active pirates of the whole Indian Archipelago are the tribes of the Sooloo group of islands lying close to the north shore of Borneo, and the people of the north and northeastern coast of Borneo itself; these have of late years proved extremely troublesome both to the English and Dutch traders; both nations are bound by the Convention of 1824 to use their best endeavors for the suppression of piracy, and many efforts have certainly been made for this purpose, although as yet without material effect in diminishing the evil. "From Labuan, these pirates might certainly be intercepted by armed steamers far more conveniently and cheaply than from any other position that could be easily pointed out: indeed, the very existence of a British settlement would tend to the suppression of piracy. "As a commercial depôt, Labuan would have considerable advantages by position; the native trade of the vicinity would of course resort to it, and so would that of the north coast of Borneo, of the Sooloo Islands, and of a considerable portion of the Spice Islands. Even for the trade of the Philippines and China, it would have the advantage over Singapore of a voyage by 700 miles shorter; a matter of most material consequence to native commerce. "With all the countries of the neighborhood lying west of Labuan I presume that a communication across both monsoons might be maintained throughout the year. This would include a portion of the east coast of the Malay peninsula, Siam, and part of Cochin China. "Labuan belongs to that portion of the coast of Borneo which is the rudest. The Borneons themselves are of the Malay nation, originally emigrants from Sumatra, and settled here for about six centuries. They are the most distant from their original seat of all the colonies which have sprung from this nation. The people from the interior differ from them in language, manners, and religion, and are divided into tribes as numerous and as rude as the Americans when first seen by Europeans. "From such a people we are not to expect any valuable products of art or manufacture, for a British mercantile depôt. Pepper is, however, produced in considerable quantity, and the products of the forests are very various, as bees-wax, gum-benjamin, fine camphor, camphor oil, esculent swallows' nests, canes and rattans, which used to form the staple articles of Borneon import into Singapore. The Borneon territory opposite to Labuan abounds also, I believe, in the palm which yields sago, and indeed the chief part of the manufactured article was thirty years ago brought from this country. The Chinese settlers would, no doubt, as in Singapore and Malacca, establish factories for its preparation according to the improved processes which they now practice at those places. "There may be reason to expect, however, that the timber of the portion of Borneo referred to may be found of value for ship-building; for Mr. Dalrymple states that in his time, above seventy years ago, Chinese junks of 500 tons burden used to be built in the river of Borneo. As to timber well-suited for boats and house-building, it is hardly necessary to add that the northwest coast of Borneo, in common with almost every other part of the Archipelago, contains a supply amounting to superfluity. "I may take this opportunity of stating, as evidence of the conveniency of this portion of Borneo for a commercial intercourse with China, that down to within the last half century a considerable number of Chinese junks were engaged in trading regularly with Borneo, and that trade ceased only when the native government became too bad and weak to afford it protection. Without the least doubt this trade would again spring up on the erection of the British flag at Labuan. Not a single Chinese junk had resorted to the Straits of Malacca before the establishment of Singapore, and their number is now, of one size or another, and exclusive of the junks of Siam and Cochin China, not less than 100. "From the cultivation of the land I should not be disposed to expect anything beyond the production of fresh fruits and esculent vegetables, and when the land is cleared, of grass for pasture. The seas in this part of the world are prolific in fish of great variety and great excellence; and the Chinese settlers are found everywhere skillful and industrious in taking them. "Some difficulty will, in the beginning, be experienced with respect to milk, butter, and fresh meat: this was the case at first in Singapore, but the difficulty has in a good measure been overcome. The countries of the Archipelago are generally not suited to pasture, and it is only in a few of them that the ox and buffalo are abundant. The sheep is so nowhere, and for the most part is wanting altogether; cattle, therefore, must be imported. "As to corn, it will unquestionably be found far cheaper to import than to raise it. Rice will be the chief bread-corn, and will come in great abundance and cheapness from Siam and Cochin China. No country within 700 miles of Singapore is abundant in corn, and none is grown in the island: yet from the first establishment of the settlement to the present time, corn has been both cheap and abundant, there has been wonderfully little fluctuation, there are always stocks, and for many years a considerable exportation. A variety of pulses, vegetable oil, and culinary salt, will be derived from the same countries, as is now done in abundance by Singapore. "The mines of antimony are 300 miles to the southwest of Labuan, and those of gold on the west and the south coasts; and I am not aware that any mineral wealth has been discovered in the portion of Borneo immediately connected with Labuan, except that of coal--far more important and valuable, indeed, than gold or antimony. The existence of a coal-field has been traced from Labuan to the islands of Kayn-arang--which words, in fact, mean coal island--to the island of Chermin, and from thence to the mainland over a distance of thirty miles. With respect to the coal of Labuan itself, I find no distinct statement beyond the simple fact of the existence of the mineral; but the coal of the two islands in the river, and of the main, is proved to be--from analysis and trial in steam-navigation--superior to nearly all the coal which India has hitherto yielded, and equal to some of our best English coals. This is the more remarkable, as it is known that most surface-minerals, and especially coals, are inferior to the portions of the same veins or beds more deep-seated. "Nearly as early as the British flag is erected, and, at all events, as soon as it is permanently known to be so, there may be reckoned upon with certainty a large influx of settlers. The best and most numerous of these will be the Chinese. They were settled on the Borneo river when the Borneo government, never very good, or otherwise than comparatively violent and disorderly, was most endurable. "Borneo is, of all the great islands of the western portion of the Archipelago, the nearest to China, and Labuan and its neighborhood the nearest point of this island. The distance of Hong Kong is about 1000 miles, and that of the island of Hainan, a great place for emigration, not above 800; distances which to the Chinese junks--fast sailers before the strong and favorable winds of the monsoons--do not make voyages exceeding four or five days. The coasts of the provinces of Canton and Fokien have hitherto been the great hives from which Chinese emigration has proceeded; and even Fokien is not above 1400 miles from Labuan, a voyage of seven or eight days. Chinese trade and immigration will come together. The northwest coast of Borneo produces an unusual supply of those raw articles for which there is always a demand in the markets of China; and Labuan, it may be reckoned upon with certainty, will soon become the seat of a larger trade with China than the river of Borneo ever possessed. "I by no means anticipate the same amount of rapid advance in population, commerce, or financial resources for Labuan, that has distinguished the history of Singapore, a far more centrical position for general commerce; still I think its prospect of success undoubted; while it will have some advantages which Singapore cannot, from its nature, possess. Its coal-mines, and the command of the coal-fields on the river of Borneo, are the most remarkable of these; and its superiority as a post-office [30] station necessarily follows. Then it is far more convenient as a port of refuge; and, as far as our present knowledge will enable us to judge, infinitely more valuable for military purposes, more especially for affording protection to the commerce which passes through the Chinese Sea, amounting at present to probably not less than 300,000 tons of shipping, carrying cargoes certainly not under the value of 15,000,000_l_. sterling. "Labuan ought, like Singapore, to be a free port; and assuredly will not prosper if it is not. Its revenue should not be derived from customs, but, as in that settlement, from excise duties: upon the nature of these, as it is well known, it is unnecessary to enlarge. They covered during my time, near twenty years ago, and within five years of the establishment of the settlement, the whole charges of a small but sufficient garrison (100 Sepoys), and a moderate but competent civil establishment. "The military and civil establishments have been greatly increased of late years; but the revenue, still in its nature the same, has kept pace with them. During my administration of Singapore, the municipal charges fell on the general fund; but they are at present amply provided for from a distinct source, chiefly an assessment on house-property. "If the military and civil charges of Labuan are kept within moderate bounds, I make no doubt but that a similar excise revenue will be adequate to cover the charges of both, and that in peace at least the state need not be called on to make any disbursement on its account; while during a naval war, if the state make any expenditure, it will be fully compensated by the additional security which the settlement will afford to British commerce, and the annoyance it will cause to the enemy. "As to the disposal of the land, always a difficult question in a new and unoccupied colony, the result of my own inquiries and personal experience lead me to offer it as my decided conviction that the most expedient plan--that which is least troublesome to the government, most satisfactory to the settler, and ultimately most conducive to the public prosperity--is to dispose of it for a term of years, that is, on long leases of 1000 years, or virtually in perpetuity; the object in this case of adopting the leasehold tenure being, by making the land a chattel interest, to get rid of the difficulties in the matter of inheritance and transfer, which, under the administration of English law, and in reference more particularly to the Asiatic people who will be the principal landowners, are incident to real property. Town allotments might be sold subject to a considerable quit-rent, but allotments in the country for one entirely nominal. Those of the latter description should be small, proportionate with the extent of the island, and the time and difficulty required in such a climate to clear the land, now overgrown for the most part with a stupendous forest of evergreen trees, and the wood of which is too abundant to be of any value, certainly for the most part not worth the land-carriage of a couple of furlongs. "A charter for the administration of justice should be as nearly as possible contemporaneous with the cession. Great inconvenience has resulted in all our Eastern settlements of the same nature with that speculated on at Labuan, from the want of all legal provision for the administration of justice; and remembering this, it ought to be guarded against in the case of Labuan. "Whether in preparing for the establishment of a British settlement on the coast of Borneo, or in actually making one, her majesty's ministers, I am satisfied, will advert to the merits and peculiar qualifications of Mr. Brooke. That gentleman is unknown to me, except by his acts and writings; but, judging by these, I consider him as possessing all the qualities which have distinguished the successful founders of new colonies; intrepidity, firmness, and enthusiasm, with the art of governing and leading the masses. He possesses some, moreover, which have not always belonged to such men, however otherwise distinguished; a knowledge of the language, manners, customs, and institutions of the natives by whom the colony is to be surrounded; with benevolence and an independent fortune, things still more unusual with the projectors of colonies. Toward the formation of a new colony, indeed, the available services of such a man, presuming they are available, may be considered a piece of good fortune." CONCLUDING OBSERVATIONS. [First Edition.] The recent proceedings of Government in following up the impression made upon Malay piracy, as related in these pages; the appointment of Mr. Brooke as British Agent in Borneo, armed with the moral and physical power of his country; the cession of the island of Labuan to the British crown; and the great advance already made by the English ruler of Sarawak, in laying broad foundations for native prosperity, while extending general security and commerce; all combine to add an interest to the early individual steps which have led to measures of so much national consequence. Deeply as I felt the influence of that individual on the condition of Borneo, and the Malayan Archipelago generally, while employed there, and much as I anticipated from his energetic character, extraordinary exertions, and enlarged views for the future, I confess that my expectations have been greatly increased by the progress of events since that period. It needed nothing to confirm my faith in the results that were sure to follow from his enlightened acts--from his prudence and humanity in the treatment of his Dyak subjects, and the neighboring and interior independent tribes--from his firm resistance to the Malay tyranny exercised upon the aborigines, and his punishment of Malay aggression, wherever perpetrated. But when I see these elements of good wisely seconded by the highest authorities of England, I cannot but look for the consummation of every benefit desired, much more rapidly and effectively than if left to the efforts of a private person, even though that person were a Brooke! If the appearance of H.M.S. Dido on the coast and at Sarawak produced a salutary effect upon all our relations with the inhabitants, it may well be presumed that the mission of Captain Bethune, and the expedition under Rear-Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane, must have greatly improved and extended that wholesome state of affairs. Indeed, it is evident, by the complete success which attended Mr. Brooke's official visit to Borneo Proper in H.M.S. Driver, after receiving dispatches from Lord Aberdeen appointing him British agent in the island, carried out by Captain Bethune in November, 1844, that the presence of a British force in those seas was alone necessary to enable him to suppress piracy, and perfect his plans for the establishment of a native government which should not oppress the country, and which should cultivate the most friendly intercourse with us. Thus we find the piratical Pangeran Usop put down, and Muda Hassim exercising the sovereign power in the name of his imbecile nephew, who still retains the title of sultan. The principal chiefs, and men distinguished by talent and some acquaintance with foreign affairs, are now on our side; and it only requires to support them in order that civilization may rapidly spread over the land, and Borneo become again, as it was one or two centuries ago, the abode of an industrious, rich, pacific, and mercantile people, interchanging products with all the trading nations of the world, and conferring and reaping those blessings which follow in the train of just and honorable trade wheresoever its enterprising spirit leads in the pursuit of honest gain. As the vain search for the philosopher's stone conducted to many a useful and valuable discovery, so may we be assured that the real seeking for gold through the profitable medium of commerce has been, is, and will be the grand source of filling the earth with comfort and happiness. Among the numerous visions of this kind which open to our sense while reflecting on the new prospects of this vast island--so little known, yet known to possess almost unbounded means to invite and return commercial activity--is the contemplation of the field it presents to missionary labors. When we read Mr. Brooke's description of the aboriginal Dyak, and observe what he has himself done in one locality within the space of four or five short years, what may we not expect to be accomplished by the zeal of Christian missions judiciously directed to reclaim such a people from utter barbarism, and induce them to become true members of a faith which teaches forbearance and charity between man and man, and inculcates, with the love and hope of heaven, an abhorrence of despotism and blood, and a disposition to live in good-will and peace with all our fellow-creatures? There are here no prejudices of caste, as in India, to impede the missionaries' progress. Mr. Brooke has pointed out what may be effected in this way, and we have only to say amen to his prayer, with an earnest aspiration that it may be speedily fulfilled. Having enjoyed the pleasure of communicating to the public this satisfactory description of the _status quo_ in Borneo to the latest period (September, 1845), I venture to congratulate them upon it. Thus far all is well and as it should be, and promising the happiest issue; but I hope I may not be charged with presumption in offering an opinion from my experience in this quarter, and respectfully suggesting that, in addition to a permanent British settlement at Labuan, it will be absolutely necessary to proceed with the suppression of Malay piracy, by steadily acting against every pirate-hold. Without a continued and determined series of operations of this sort, it is my conviction that even the most sanguinary and fatal onslaughts will achieve nothing beyond a present and temporary good. The impression on the native mind is not sufficiently lasting: their old impulses and habits return with fresh force; they forget their heavy retribution; and in two or three years the memory of them is almost entirely effaced. Till piracy be completely suppressed there must be no relaxation; and well worth the perseverance is the end in view, the welfare of one of the richest and most improvable portions of the globe, and the incalculable extension of the blessings of Britain's prosperous commerce and humanizing dominion. In looking forward to the certain realization of these prospects, I may mention the important circumstance of the discovery of coal in abundance for the purposes of steam navigation. The surveys already made afford assurances of this fact, and the requisite arrangements are in progress for opening and working the mines. It is generally known that the Dutch assert very wide pretensions to colonies and monopolies in those seas. A treaty has been concluded between the Netherlands government and England; and although that important document contains no reference whatever to Borneo, it is most desirable for the general extension of commerce that no national jealousies, no ideas of conflicting interests, no encroaching and ambitious projects, may be allowed to interfere with or prevent the beneficial progress of this important region. With such a man as Mr. Brooke to advise the course most becoming, disinterested, and humane for the British empire to pursue, it is not too much to say that, if the well-being of these races of our fellow-creatures is defeated or postponed, the crime will not lie at our door. The sacrifices we have made to extinguish slavery throughout the world are a sure and unquestionable pledge that we will do our utmost to extirpate the horrid traffic in those parts, and to uproot the system of piracy that feeds it. It is the bounden duty of both Holland and Great Britain to unite cordially in this righteous cause. The cry of nature is addressed to them; and if rejected, as surely as there is justice and mercy in the Providence which overrules the fate of nations, no blessing will prosper them, but wealth, and dominion, and happiness will pass away from them forever. Mr. Brooke invokes their coöperation, and his noble appeal cannot be withstood. The central position of Labuan is truly remarkable. That island is distant from Hong Kong 1009 miles. Singapore 707 " Siam 984 " Manilla 650 " On the other hand, Mr. Brooke's territory of Sarawak is distant from Singapore 427 miles. Labuan 304 " Hong Kong 1199 " How direct and central are these valuable possessions for the universal trade of the East! POSTSCRIPT TO THE SECOND EDITION. June 6th, 1846. In the foregoing remarks with which I closed the first edition of this book, I ventured to congratulate the public on the cheerful aspect of affairs in Borneo at the latest period of which accounts had then reached me. I could then say, with a joyful heart, "Thus far all is well and as it should be, and promising the happiest issue." But now I must write in a different strain. The mischiefs I pointed out above as likely to ensue from a desultory and intermittent mode of dealing with Malay piracy have revealed themselves even sooner and in a more formidable manner than I had anticipated. The weak and covetous sultan of Borneo has, with more than the usual fickleness of Asiatics, already forgotten the lessons we gave him and the engagements he solemnly and voluntarily contracted with us. Mr. Brooke's faithful friends, Muda Hassim and the Pangeran Budrudeen, with numbers of their families and retainers, have been basely murdered by their treacherous kinsman, because of their attachment to the English and their unswerving determination to put down piracy; and what is worst of all, Mr. Brooke's arch-enemy, the subtle and indefatigable villain Macota, the man whose accursed head was thrice saved by my too-generous friend, has now returned triumphantly to the scene of his former crimes, and is commissioned by the sultan to take Mr. Brooke's life by poison, or by any other of those treacherous arts in which there is no more consummate adept than Macota. I could trust securely to Mr. Brooke's gallantry and skill for the protection of his life against the attacks of open foes; and my only fears arise when I reflect on his utter insensibility to danger, and think how the admirable qualities of his own guileless, confiding nature may facilitate the designs of his enemies. H.M.S. Hazard, from Hong Kong, having touched at Bruni about the end of March last, was boarded by a native, who gave the captain such information as induced him to sail with all speed for Sarawak; and there this man made the following deposition:-- Japper, a native of Bruni, deposes that he was sent aboard H.M.S. Hazard by the Pangeran Muda Mahomed, to warn the captain against treachery, and to communicate the following details to Mr. Brooke at Sarawak. The Rajah Muda Hassim was raised by the sultan to the title of Sultan Muda (or young sultan), and, together with his brothers and followers, was living in security, when he was attacked by orders of the sultan at night, and together with thirteen of his family, killed in different places. Four brothers, viz. Pangeran Muda Mahomed, Pangeran Abdul Kader, Pangeran Abdulraman, and Pangeran Mesahat, together with several young children of the Rajah Muda Hassim, alone survive. The deponent Japper was in attendance on his lord, the Pangeran Budrudeen, at the time of the attack. The Pangeran, though surprised by his enemies, fought for some time, and when desperately wounded, retired outside his house with his sister and another woman named Koor Salem. The deponent was there and was wounded, as were both the women. The Pangeran Budrudeen ordered deponent to open a keg or cask of gunpowder, which he did; and the last thing his lord did was to take his ring from his finger and desire the deponent to carry it to Mr. Brooke; to bid Mr. Brooke not to forget him, and not to forget to lay his case before the Queen of England. The deponent then quitted his lord, who was with the two women, and immediately after his lord fired the powder, and the three were blown up. The deponent escaped with difficulty; and a few days afterward, the ring intrusted to his charge, was taken from him by the sultan. The sultan, and those with him, killed the Rajah Muda Hassim and his family, because he was the friend of the English and wanted to suppress piracy. The sultan has now built forts and defied the English. He talked openly of cutting out any vessel that arrived; and two Pangerans went down, bearing the flag of the Rajah Muda Hassim, to look at the vessel, and to kill the captain if they could get him ashore. The deponent had great difficulty in getting to the ship; and should his flight be discovered, he considers the lives of the surviving portion of the Rajah Muda Hassim's family will be in danger. The deponent did what he was ordered, and what his late lord, the Pangeran Budrudeen, desired him to do. The sultan had a man ready to send, named Nakoda Kolala, to Kaluka, to request that Pangeran Macota would kill Mr. Brooke by treachery or poison. (_Signed_) J. Brooke. Having put Mr. Brooke on his guard, the Hazard proceeded to Singapore, whence the H.E.I.C. war-steamer Phlegethon would be immediately dispatched to Sarawak. H h Suggestions for Accelerating the Communication Between Great Britain and China. ------------------------+-----------------+---------+-------+---------+---------+---------+------------------- | | |Average|Interval |Interval | | | | | Rate | under | at | Total | Proposed Route from | | | per | Weigh. | Anchor. |Interval.| Hong Kong to London, | |Distance,| Hour, |----+----+----+----+----+----| and vice versâ. | Course. | Miles. | Miles.| D | h | D | h | D | h | Duties at Anchor. ------------------------+-----------------+---------+-------+----+----+----+----+----+--- +---------------- Hong Kong to Pulo Labuan| S. 2°18'E. | 1009 | 7 | 6 | -- | 1 | 12 | 7 | 12 |To receive Coal.[A] Pulo Labuan to Singapore| S. 69 23 W. | 707 | -- | 4 | 6 | -- | 12 | 4 | 18 |{To receive Coal, land and | | | | | | | | | |{receive Mails. Singapore to Malacca |{S. 64 48 W. 19} | 122 | -- | -- | 18 | -- | 6 | 1 | -- |To land and receive Mails. |{N. 51 41 W. 103}| | | | | | | | | Malacca to Pinang | N. 30 37 W. | 222 | -- | 1 | 8 | -- | 16 | 2 | -- |(To receive Coal, land and | | | | | | | | | | receive Mails. Pinang to Ceylon [B] |{N. 82 24 W. 303}| 1219 | -- | 7 | 6 | 2 | 12 | 8 | 18 | Ditto Ditto |{S. 80 45 W. 916)| | -- | | | | | | | |-----------------+---------+-------+----+----+----+----+----+----+------------------- Ceylon to Aden {|As now performed by the Peninsular and Oriental Steam }| 11 | -- | {| Navigation Co., detention of 2 days included }| | | Aden to Suez | Ditto Ditto | 8 | -- | Suez to Alexandria | Ditto all stoppages included| 3 | -- | Alexandria to Malta | Ditto Ditto | 4 | -- | Malta to Marseilles |As now performed by H.M. Post-Office Packets, ditto | 4 | -- | Marseilles to London | Ditto by regular course of Post ditto | 5 | -- | |----+----| Total Interval from Hong Kong to London, and vice versâ, by the proposed | | | Route. Days | 59 | -- | Average interval of transmission of China Correspondance, viâ Calcutta and }| | | Bombay, during the last Twenty Overland Mails, viz. from 10th October, 1841, }| | | to 6th May, 1843 }| 89 | -- | |----+----| Difference of time in favor of proposed Route Days | 30 | | --------------------------------------------------------------------------------+----+----+------------------- KEY: D - Days. h - Hours. Mem.--I have adopted an average rate of seven miles per hour as a fair estimate of the speed well-appointed Steam Vessels, of moderate size and power, will be enabled to accomplish and maintain, throughout the proposed Route, at all seasons of the year; for, during the whole distance from Pinang to Aden, and _vice versâ_, neither monsoon, from the course steered, becomes at any period a directly adverse wind, an advantage which the route hitherto observed does not possess. Assuming that the Hon. East India Company continue the management of the Bombay line, and that the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company are encouraged to render their operations more comprehensive, by the establishment of branch steamers between Ceylon and Singapore, to which latter port her majesty's steam vessels on the China station could convey the mails from Hong Kong, this all-important object might, without difficulty, be attained. The advantages to the Straits settlements, consequent on the adoption of improved arrangements, require no comment; and the _practicability_ of effecting a very considerable acceleration of the communication with China is evident from the simple fact that the average interval which has occurred in the transmission of letters from China, by the last twenty Overland Mails (irrespective of the unfortunate July mail from Bombay), exceeds the period occasionally occupied by fast-sailing ships, in accomplishing the voyage viâ the Cape of Good Hope. London, _14th Sept. 1843._ [33] HENRY WISE, 13, Austin Friars. P.S.--_Oct. 9th._ The arrival at Suez on the 16th ult. of the H.C.S. Akbar, in _forty-six_ days from Hong Kong, after accomplishing the passage down the China seas, against the S.W. monsoon--unassisted also by any previously arranged facilities for coaling, exchange of steamers at Aden, and other manifest advantages requisite for the proper execution of this important service, confirms the correctness of my estimate for performing the voyage from Hong Kong to Suez, or _vice versâ_, viz. _forty-three_ days, including stoppages. APPENDIX. No. I. NATURAL HISTORY. _Mr. Brooke's Report on the Mias._ (From the Transactions of the Zoological Society.) JAMES BROOKE, Esq., to Mr. WATERHOUSE. My dear Sir:--Singapore, 25th March, 1841. I am happy to announce the departure of five live ourang-outangs by the ship Martin Luther, Captain Swan; and I trust they will reach you alive. In case they die, I have directed Captain Swan to put them into spirits, that you may still have an opportunity of seeing them. The whole of the five are from Borneo: one large female adult from Sambas; two, with slight cheek-callosities, from Pontiana; a small male, without any sign of callosities, from Pontiana likewise; and the smallest of all, a very young male with callosities, from Sadung. I will shortly forward a fine collection of skulls and skeletons from the northwest coast of Borneo, either shot by myself or brought by the natives; and I beg you will do me the favor to present the live ourangs and this collection to the Zoological Society. I have made many inquiries and gained some information regarding these animals, and I can, beyond a doubt, prove the existence of two, if not three, distinct species in Borneo. First, I will re-state the native account: secondly, give you my own observations; and thirdly, enter into a brief detail of the specimens hereafter to be forwarded. 1st. The natives of the northwest coast of Borneo are all positive as to the existence of two distinct species, which I formerly gave you by the names of the _Mias pappan_ and _Mias rombi_; but I have since received information from a few natives of intelligence that there are three sorts, and what is vulgarly called the Mias rombi is in reality the _Mias kassar_, the rombi being a distinct and third species. The Mias pappan is the _Simia Wurmbii_ of Mr. Owen, having callosities on the sides of the face: the natives treat with derision the idea of the Mias kassar, or _Simia morio_, being the female of the Mias pappan or Simia Wurmbii; and I consider the fact can be established so clearly that I will not trouble you with their statements: both Malays and Dyaks are positive that the female of the Mias pappan has cheek-callosities the same as the male; and if on inquiry it prove to be so, the existence of three distinct species in Borneo will be established. The existence of the Mias rombi is vouched by a few natives only, but they were men of intelligence, and well acquainted with the animals in the wild state. They represent the Mias rombi to be as tall as the pappan, or even taller, but not so stout, with longer hair, a smaller face, and no callosities either on the male or female; and they always insisted that it was not the female of the pappan. The Mias kassar or Simia morio is of the same color as the Mias pappan, but altogether smaller, and devoid of callosities either on the male or female adults. By the native statements, therefore, we find three distinct species, viz. the Mias pappan or Simia Wurmbii, the Mias kassar or Simia morio, and the Mias rombi, which is either the _Simia Abelii_, or a fourth species. The existence of the Sumatran ourang in Borneo is by no means impossible; and I have already compared so many of the native statements, that I place more confidence in them than I did formerly, more especially as their account is in a great measure borne out by the skulls in my possession. I had an opportunity of seeing the Mias pappan and the Mias kassar in their native woods, and killing one of the former and several of the latter species. The distribution of these animals is worthy of notice, as they are found both at Pontiana and Sambas in considerable numbers, and at Sadung on the northwest coast, but are unknown in the intermediate country which includes the rivers of Sarawak and Samarahan. I confess myself at a loss to account for their absence on the Sarawak and Samarahan rivers, which abound with fruit, and have forests similar and contiguous to the Sadung, Linga, and other rivers. The distance from Samarahan to Sadung does not exceed twenty-five miles; and though pretty abundant on the latter, they are unknown on the former river. From Sadung, proceeding to the northward and eastward, they are found for about 100 miles, but beyond that distance do not inhabit the forests. The Mias pappan and Mias kassar inhabit the same woods, but I never met them on the same day; both species, according to the natives, are equally common, but from my own experience the Mias kassar is the most plentiful. The Mias rombi is represented as unfrequent and rarely to be met with. The pappan is justly named _Satyrus_, from the ugly face and disgusting callosities. The adult male I killed was seated lazily on a tree, and when approached only took the trouble to interpose the trunk between us, peeping at me, and dodging as I dodged. I hit him on the wrist, and he was afterward dispatched. I send you his proportions, enormous relative to his height; and until I came to actual measurement my impression was that he was nearly six feet in stature. The following is an extract from my journal relating to him, noted down directly after he was killed:-- "Great was our triumph as we gazed on the huge animal dead at our feet, and proud were we of having shot the first ourang we had seen, and shot him in his native woods, in a Borneo forest, hitherto untrodden by European feet. The animal was adult, having four incisors, two canines, and ten molars in each jaw; but by his general appearance he was not old. We were struck by the length of his arms, the enormous neck, and the expanse of face, which altogether gave the impression of great height, whereas it was only great power. The hair was long, reddish, and thin; the face remarkably broad and fleshy, and on each side, in the place of a man's whiskers, were the callosities or rather fleshy protuberances, which I was so desirous to see, and which were nearly two inches in thickness. The ears were small and well shaped, the nose quite flat, mouth prominent, lips thick, teeth large and discolored, eyes small and roundish, face and hands black, the latter being very powerful. The following are the dimensions: ft. in. Height from head to heel 4 1 Length of foot 1 0 Ditto hand 0 10 1/2 Length of arm from shoulder-blade to finger-end 3 5 3/4 Shoulder-blade to elbow 1 6 Elbow to wrist 1 1 1/2 Hip to heel 1 9 Head to os coccygia 2 5 1/2 Across the shoulders 1 5 1/2 Circumference of neck 2 4 Ditto below the ribs 3 3 1/4 Ditto under the arms 3 0 From forehead to chin 0 9 3/4 Across the face, below the eyes, including callosities 1 1 From ear to ear across the top of the head 0 9 1/2 From ear to ear behind the head 0 9 3/4 The natives asserted the animal to be a small one; but I am skeptical of their ever attaining the growth of a tall man, though I bear in mind that full-grown animals will probably differ as much in height as man." Some days after this, and about thirty miles distant, I was fortunate enough to kill two adult females (one with her young), and a male nearly adult, all the Mias kassar. The young male was not measured, owing to my having waded up to my neck in pursuit of him, and thereby destroyed my paper and lost my measure; but he certainly did not exceed 3 feet, while the two females were about 3 ft. 1 in. and 3 ft. 2 in. in height. The male was just cutting his two posterior molars: the color of all resembled that of the Mias pappan, but the difference between the two animals was apparent even to our seamen. The kassar has no callosities either on the male or female, whereas the young pappans dispatched by the Martin Luther (one of them not a year old, with two first molars) show them prominently. The great difference between the kassar and the pappan in size would prove at once the distinction of the two species; the kassar being a small, slight animal, by no means formidable in his appearance, with hands and feet proportioned to the body, and they do not approach the gigantic extremities of the pappan either in size or power; and, in short, a moderately strong man would readily overpower one, when he would not stand the shadow of a chance with the pappan. Beside these decisive differences may be mentioned the appearance of the face, which in the Mias kassar is more prominent in the lower part, and the eyes exteriorly larger, in proportion to the size of the animal, than in the pappan. The color of the skin in the adult pappan is black, while the kassar, in his face and hands, has the dirty color common to the young of both species. If further evidence was wanted, the skulls will fully prove the distinction of species; for the skulls of two adult animals compared will show a difference in size alone which must preclude all supposition of their being one species. Mr. Owen's remarks are, however, so conclusive, that I need not dwell on this point; and with a suite of skulls, male and female, from the adult to the infant, of the Mias kassar, which I shall have the pleasure to forward, there can remain, I should think, little further room for discussion. I may mention, however, that two young animals I had in my possession alive, one a kassar, the other a pappan, fully bore out these remarks by their proportionate size. The pappan, with two molars, showed the callosities distinctly, and was as tall and far stouter than the kassar with three molars, while the kassar had no vestige of the callosities. Their mode of progression likewise was different, as the kassar doubled his fists and dragged his hind quarters after him, while the pappan supported himself on the open hands sideways placed on the ground, and moved one leg before the other in the erect sitting attitude; but this was only observed in the two young ones, and cannot be considered as certainly applicable to all. On the habits of the ourangs, as far as I have been able to observe them, I may remark, that they are as dull and as slothful as can well be conceived, and on no occasion when pursuing them did they move so fast as to preclude my keeping pace with them easily through a moderately clear forest; and even when obstructions below (such as wading up to the neck) allowed them to get way some distance, they were sure to stop and allow us to come up. I never observed the slightest attempt at defence; and the wood, which sometimes rattled about our ears, was broken by their weight, and not thrown, as some persons represent. If pushed to extremity, however, the pappan could not be otherwise than formidable; and one unfortunate man, who with a party was trying to catch a large one alive, lost two of his fingers, beside being severely bitten on the face, while the animal finally beat off his pursuers and escaped. When they wish to catch an adult, they cut down a circle of trees round the one on which he is seated, and then fell that also, and close before he can recover himself, and endeavor to bind him. In a small work entitled "The Menageries," published in 1838, there is a good account of the Borneon ourang, with a brief extract from Mr. Owen's valuable paper on the Simia morio; but, after dwelling on the lazy and apathetic disposition of the animal, it states in the same page that they can make their way amid the branches of the trees with surprising agility; whereas they are the slowest and least active of all the monkey tribe, and their motions are surprisingly awkward and uncouth. The natives on the northwest coast entertain no dread, and always represent the ourangs as harmless and inoffensive animals; and from what I saw, they would never attack a man unless brought to the ground. The rude hut which they are stated to build in the trees would be more properly called a seat or nest, for it has no roof or cover of any sort. The facility with which they form this seat is curious, and I had an opportunity of seeing a wounded female weave the branches together, and seat herself within a minute; she afterward received our fire without moving, and expired in her lofty abode, whence it cost us much trouble to dislodge her. I have seen some individuals with nails on the posterior thumbs, but generally speaking, they are devoid of them: of the five animals sent home, two have the nails, and three are without them; one has the nail well formed, and in the other it is merely rudimentary. The length of my letter precludes my dwelling on many particulars which, as I have not seen the recent publications on the subject, might be mere repetitions; and I will only mention, as briefly as I can, the skulls of these animals in my possession. From my late sad experience I am induced to this, that some brief record may be preserved from shipwreck. These skulls may be divided into three distinct sorts. The first presents two ridges, one rising from each frontal bone, which, joining on the top of the head, form an elevated crest, which runs backward to the cerebral portion of the skull. The second variety is the Simia morio; and nothing need be added to Mr. Owen's account, save that it presents no ridge whatever beyond the frontal part of the head. No. 9 in the collection is the skull of an adult male: No. 2 the male, nearly adult, killed by myself: Nos. 11 and 3 adult females, killed by myself: No. 12 a young male, with three molars, killed by myself: No. 21 a young male, died aboard, with three molars: No. 19, young male, died aboard, with two molars. There are many other skulls of the Simia morio which exactly coincide with this suite, and this suite so remarkably coincides through the different stages of age, one with another, that no doubt can exist of the Simia morio being a distinct species. The different character of the skull, its small size and small teeth, put the matter beyond doubt, and completely establish Mr. Owen's acute and triumphant argument, drawn from a single specimen. The third distinction of the skulls is, that the ridges rising from the frontal bones do not meet, but converge toward the top of the head, and again diverge toward the posterior portion of the skull. These ridges are less elevated than in the first-mentioned skulls, but the size of the adult skulls is equal, and both present specimens of aged animals. For a long time I was inclined to think the skulls with the double ridge were the females of the animals with the single and more prominent ridge; but No. 1 (already described as killed by myself) will show that the double ridge belongs to an adult and not young male animal, and that it belongs to the Simia Wurmbii with the huge callosities. The distinction therefore cannot be a distinction of sex, unless we suppose the skulls with the greater development of the single ridge to belong to the female, which is improbable in the highest degree. The skulls with the double and less elevated ridges belong, as proved by No. 1, to the Simia Wurmbii; and I am of opinion the single and higher ridge must be referred to another and distinct species, unless we can account for this difference on the score of age. This, I conceive, will be found impossible, as Nos. 7 and 20 are specimens similar to No. 1, with the double and less elevated ridges decidedly old, and Nos. 4 and 5 are specimens of the single high ridge, likewise decidedly old. These three characters in the skulls coincide with the native statements of there being three distinct species in Borneo, and this third Borneon species may probably be found to be the Simia Abelii, or Sumatran ourang. This probability is strengthened by the adult female on her way home: her color is dark brown, with black face and hands; and in color of hair, contour, and expression, she differs from the male ourangs with the callosities to a degree that makes me doubt her being the female of the same species. I offer you these remarks for fear of accident; but should the specimens, living and dead, arrive in safety, they will give a fresh impetus to the inquiry, and on my next return to Borneo I shall, in all probability, be able to set the question at rest, whether there be two or three species in that country. Believe me, my dear sir, with best wishes, to remain, Yours very truly, J. Brooke. Borneo, like Celebes, teems with Natural History unknown to European science; and Mr. Brooke has sent some remarkable specimens to England, though his own large collection was, unfortunately, wrecked on its voyage homeward. Every arrival, however, is now adding to the stores we already possess. The British Museum has been much enriched, even within the last year, with rare specimens of zoology and botany; and at the Entomological Society there have been exhibited and described many curious insects hitherto strange and unclassified. No. II. PHILOLOGY. It was intended in this work to convey to the studious in philology,--upon which science, rationally investigated, so much depends on our ability to ascertain the origin and trace the earliest relations of mankind,--as copious a vocabulary of the Dyak language, with definitions of meaning and cognate references, as might be considered a useful contribution to that important branch of learning. But various considerations have induced us to forego the design; and not the least of them has been, not the difficulty, but the impossibility of reducing the whole collection to a system, or of laying down any certain rule of orthography in this Oriental confusion. Nearly all the vowels, for example, have been found of equal value; and as they have but one general Malay name, so it happens that (for instance) the consonants _b d_might be pronounced with the intervening sound, _bad_, _bed_, _bid_, _bod_, _bud_, and sundry variations beside, unknown to the English tongue. This will in a great degree account for the universally vexatious, because puzzling, spelling, inflections, and pronunciation of Eastern names, which is so injurious to the literature and knowledge of those countries among Europeans. The vowel-sounds adopted are: _a_ like _a_ in _father_. _e_ " _a_ in _fan_. _i_ " Italian _i_, or _ee_ in _thee_. _i_ " _i_ in _pin_. _o_ " _o_ in _spoke_. _u_ " _oo_ in _cool_. _u_ " u in run. _y_ occasionally like _i_. _ow_ (_ou_) like _ow_ in _cow_. The final _k_ in Malayan is frequently mute: thus Dyak is pronounced Dyaa, with the slightest possible aspiration. _gn_ is a liquid sound. We add an alphabetical list of some of the words which have occurred in the preceding pages. _Arafuras_, or _Haraforas_, natives of Papua. _Balanian_, wild tribes in Borneo. _Bandar_, or _Bandhara_, treasurer, high steward, high officer of state. _Basaya_, tribes in the interior of Borneo Proper, locating near and resembling the Murut. _Battara,_ one of the Dyak names of God (the Hindu _Avatara_). _Borneo_, the island of, written "Bruni" by the inhabitants. _Borneo Proper,_ the northern and northwestern part of the island; an independent Malay state. _Borneons_, the Malay inhabitants of Borneo Proper. _Bruni_, the native name for Borneo. _Bugis_, natives of Celebes. _Bulan_, the Moon, a poetical title of honor to a pirate-chief. _Campong_, a native village, or town. _Datu_, a cape or point of land to the northwest of the river Banjamassim. _Datus_, strictly, native chiefs, heads of tribes. _Dusun,_ agricultural villagers on the northern extremity of Borneo. _Dyaks_; or Dyak, aborigines of Borneo, and generally pronounced Dyah. _Dyak Darrat,_ Land Dyaks. _Dyak Laut,_ Sea Dyaks. _Gantong_, a Malay measure for rice. _Gunong_, a mountain. _Hadji_, a Mahomedan who has made a pilgrimage to Mecca. _Haraforas_, or _Arafuras_, natives of Papua. _Idaans_ [Kadiens], Borneon tribes, and the name generally given to most of the varieties of the Indian Archipelago. _Illanuns_ or _Lanuns_, pirates inhabiting the small cluster of islands between Borneo and Magindano. _Jovata_, a Dyak name of God, of Hindu origin. _Kadiens_, Borneon tribes, Mahomedans, the Idaan of preceding voyagers and writers. See _Idaans_. _Kalamantan_, an original name of Borneo. _Kanowit_, wild tribes in Borneo. _Kaya_, a title of authority, Orang Kaya de Gadong, chief man of Gadong. _Kayans_, the most powerful and warlike people of Borneo, living inland. _Kuching_, the former name of the town of Sarawak. _Lubuan_, the island off Borneo river, ceded by the sultan to the British crown. _Lelas_, guns. _Magindano_, an island off the northeast of Borneo, the natives of which are pirates. _Makassar_, the straits of, usually written Macassar, but more accurately Mangkassar. _Malays_, settled on the Malayan peninsula, coasts of Borneo, &c. &c., a race of seafaring character, often piratical, and conquerors of various native tribes in the Indian Archipelago. _Malukus_, pirates from a bay in Gillolo, whose country is in the possession of the Dutch. _Marundum_, an island off Borneo. _Matari_, or _Mata-hari_(the eye of day), the Sun, a poetical title of honor to a pirate-chief. _Mias Rombi_ and _M. Pappan_, two species of ourang-outang, determined by Mr. Brooke. _Millanows_, a tribe resembling the Kayans, living near the river Meri, river Bentulu, tolerably civilized, and fairer than the Malays. _Minkokas_, a wild tribe near the Bay of Boni. _Morotaba_ river, one of the mouths of the Sarawak. _Montrado_, a very large and populous Chinese settlement near Point Data. _Murut_, inhabitants of the interior of Borneo Proper. _Natunas_, islands off Borneo. _Ondong-ondong_, the written law of Borneo. _Orang_, a man. _Orang outang_, a wild man. _Pangeran_, or _Pangiran_, the title of a high Malay authority. _Panglima_, the head warrior of a Dyak tribe. _Patingi_, or _Patingus_, a high local officer. _Patobong_, the name of the ranjows and sudas, defences in war. _Patakan Dyaks_, said by the Malays to be cannibals. _Pontiana_, one of the finest rivers in Borneo; also the name of natives on its banks. The Dutch have a settlement on this river. _Ranjows_, bamboo-spikes stuck in the ground to wound the feet of attacking enemies, or concealed in pits to wound or destroy them. _Rhio_, a Malay settlement, under Dutch control. _Sadung_, a river adjoining the Sarawak. _Sakarra_, a Dyak god, residing in the Pleiades. _Sakarran_, a river like the Sarebus (which see), with a similar native population on its banks. _Satigi_, a wooden spear, or dart. _Sampan_, a small prahu. _Sarebus_, a river flowing into the deep bay between Tanjong Sipang and Tanjong Sirak. _Sarebus_, powerful Dyak tribes and pirates, located on the above, and other rivers flowing into the bay. They have thrown off the Malay yoke, and plunder as far as Celebes. _Seriff_, or _Sheriff_, a high Malay title, peculiar to persons of Arab descent. _Sibnowans_, or _Sibnyons_, Mr. Brooke's favorite tribe of Dyaks, of superior character. _Singè_, Dyak tribes. _Songi Besar_, large river. _Sooloo_, on the northeast of Borneo, a powerful piratical nest, the natives of which massacred the garrison of Balambangan in 1775. _Sudahs_, defences to wound the feet of attacking enemies. _Sumpitan_, or _Simpote_, a tube seven or eight feet in length, through which the Borneons blow small sharp-pointed arrows. _Tanjong_, a point of land. _Turaj_, or _Tarajahs_, natives of Celebes. _Tatows_, wild tribes in the interior of Borneo. _Tiran_, natives on the north of Borneo, reported (on doubtful authority) to be pirates and cannibals. _Tuan_, sir, an exclamation of assent to an approved speaker, instead of "hear, hear," or "yes." _Tuan Besar_, sir, great, great chief, higher applause and deference. _Tumangong_, a local Malay officer. _Tumbilans_, a beautiful group of about 150 small islands between Borneo and Singapore. _Tuppa_, a Dyak god. _Wakil_, a deputy. _Zedong_, like the Tiran, which see. No. III. _Proposed Exploring Expedition to the Asiatic Archipelago, by_ James Brooke, Esq. 1838. The voyage I made to China opened an entirely new scene, and showed me what I had never seen before, savage life and savage nature. I inquired, and I read, and I became more and more assured that there was a large field of discovery and adventure open to any man daring enough to enter upon it. Just take a map and trace a line over the Indian Archipelago, with its thousand unknown islands and tribes. Cast your eye over the vast island of New Guinea, where the foot of European has scarcely, if ever, trod. Look at the northern coast of Australia, with its mysterious Gulf of Carpentaria; a survey of which, it is supposed, would solve the great geographical question respecting the rivers of the mimic continent. Place your finger on Japan, with its exclusive and civilized people; it lies an unknown lump on our earth, and an undefined line on our charts! Think of the northern coast of China, willing, as is reported, to open an intercourse and trade with Europeans, spite of their arbitrary government. Stretch your pencil over the Pacific Ocean, which Cook himself declares a field of discovery for ages to come! Proceed to the coast of South America, from the region of gold-dust to the region of furs--the land ravaged by the cruel Spaniard and the no less cruel Bucaneer--the scene of the adventures of Drake and the descriptions of Dampier. The places I have enumerated are mere names, with no specific ideas attached to them: lands and seas where the boldest navigators gained a reputation, and where hundreds may yet do so, if they have the same courage and the same perseverance. Imagination whispers to ambition that there are yet lands unknown which might be discovered. Tell me, would not a man's life be well spent--tell me, would it not be well sacrificed, in an endeavor to explore these regions? When I think on dangers and death, I think of them only because they would remove me from such a field for ambition, for energy, and for knowledge. Borneo, Celebes, Sooloo, the Moluccas, and the islands of the Straits of Sunda and Banka, compose what is called the Malayan group; and the Malays located on the sea-shores of these and other islands may with certainty be classed as belonging to one people. It is well known, however, that the interior of these countries is inhabited by various tribes, differing from the Malays and each other, and presenting numerous gradations of early civilization: the Dyaks of Borneo, the Papuans of New Guinea, and others, beside the black race scattered over the islands. Objects of traffic here as elsewhere present interesting subjects of inquiry; and while our acquaintance with every other portion of the globe, from the passage of the Pole to the navigation of the Euphrates, has greatly extended, it is matter of surprise that we know scarcely anything of these people beyond the bare fact of their existence, and remain altogether ignorant of the geographical features of the countries they inhabit. Countries which present an extended field for Christianity and commerce, which none surpass in fertility, rich beyond the Americas in mineral productions, and unrivaled in natural beauty, continue unexplored to the present day; and, spite of the advantages which would probably result, have failed to attract the attention they so well deserve. The difficulty of the undertaking will scarcely account for its non-performance, if we consider the voluntary sacrifices made on the shrine of African research, or the energy displayed and the sufferings encountered by the explorers of the Polar regions: yet the necessity of prosecuting the voyage in an armed vessel, the wildness of the interior tribes, the lawless ferocity of the Malays, and other dangers, would prevent most individuals from fixing on this field for exertion, and points it out as one which could best and most fully be accomplished by Government or some influential body. It is not my object to enter into any detail of the past history of the Malayan nations, but I may refer to the undoubted facts that they have been in a state of deterioration since we first became acquainted with them; and the records of our early voyagers, together with the remains of antiquity still visible in Java and Sumatra, prove that once flourishing nations have now ceased to exist, and that countries once teeming with human life are now tenantless and deserted. The causes of such lamentable change need only be alluded to; but it is fit to remark, that while the standard of education is unfurled, and dreams are propagated of the progressive advancement of the human race, a large part of the globe has been gradually relapsing and allowed to relapse into barbarism. Whether the early decay of the Malay states, and their consequent demoralization, arose from the introduction of Mahommedism, or resulted from the intrigues of European ambition, it were useless to discuss; but we are very certain that this "Eden of the Eastern wave" has been reduced to a state of anarchy and confusion, as repugnant to every dictate of humanity as it is to the prospect of commercial advantage. Borneo and Celebes, and indeed the greater portion of the islands of the Malayan Archipelago, are still unknown, and the apathy of two centuries still reigns supreme with the enlightened people of England; while they willingly make the most expensive efforts favorable to science, commerce, or Christianity in other quarters, the locality which eminently combines these three objects is alone neglected and alone uncared for. It has unfortunately been the fate of our Indian possessions to have labored under the prejudice and contempt of a large portion of the well-bred community. While the folly of fashion requires an acquaintance with the deserts of Africa, and a most ardent thirst for a knowledge of the usages of Timbuctoo, it at the same time justifies the most profound ignorance of all matters connected with the government and geography of our vast acquisitions in Hindoostan. The Indian Archipelago has fully shared this neglect; and even the tender philanthropy of the present day, which originates such multifarious schemes for the amelioration of doubtful evils, which shudders at the prolongation of apprenticeship for a single year in the West, is blind to the existence of slavery in its worst and most aggravated form in the East. Not a single prospectus is spread abroad; not a single voice is upraised to relieve the darkness of Paganism, and the horrors of the Eastern slave-trade. While the trumpet-tongue of many an orator excites thousands to the rational and charitable objects of converting the Jews and reclaiming the Gipsys; while the admirable exertions of missionary enterprise in the Ausonian climes of the South Sea have invested them with worldly power as well as religious influence; while we admire the torrent of devotional and philosophical exertion, we cannot help deploring that the zeal and attention of the leaders of these charitable crusades have never been directed to the countries under consideration. These unhappy countries have failed to rouse attention or excite commiseration; and as they sink lower and lower, they afford a striking proof how civilization may be dashed, and how the purest and richest lands under the sun may be degraded and brutalized by a continued course of oppression and misrule. It is under these circumstances that I have considered individual exertion may be usefully applied to rouse the zeal of slumbering philanthropy, and to lead the way to an increased knowledge of the Indian Archipelago. Such an exertion will be made at some cost and some sacrifice; and I shall here quit the general topic, and confine myself to the specific objects of my intended voyage. It must be premised, however, that any plan previously decided on must always be subject during its execution to great modifications in countries where the population is always rude and often hostile, and where the influence of climate is sometimes so fatally opposed to the progress of inquiry. Local information, likewise, frequently renders such a change both advisable and advantageous; and circumstances, as they spring up, too often influence us beyond the power of foresight, more especially in my own case, where the utmost care would still leave the means very inadequate to the full accomplishment of the proposed undertaking. With a small vessel properly equipped, and provided with the necessary instruments for observation, and the means for collecting specimens in natural history, it is proposed in the first instance to proceed to Singapore, which may be considered as head-quarters for the necessary intervals of refreshment and repose, and for keeping open a certain communication with Europe. Here the best local information can be obtained, interpreters procured, the crew augmented for any particular service; and here, if needful, a small vessel of native construction may be added to the expedition, to facilitate the objects in view. An acquaintance may likewise be formed with the more respectable Bugis merchants, and their good-will conciliated in the usual mode, viz., by civility and presents, so as to remove any misconceived jealousy on the score of trading rivalry, and to induce a favorable report of our friendly intentions in their own country, and at the places where they may touch. The Royalist will probably reach Singapore in the month of March, 1839, at the latter end of the northwest, or rainy monsoon. The delay consequent on effecting the objects above mentioned, beside gaining a general acquaintance with the natural history and trade of the settlement, and some knowledge of the Malay language, will usefully occupy the time until the setting in of the southeast, or dry monsoon. It may be incidentally mentioned, however, that in the vicinity of Singapore there are many islands imperfectly known, and which, during the intervals of the rainy season, will afford interesting occupation. I allude, more especially, to the space between the Straits of Rhio and those of Duryan, and likewise to the island called Bintang, which, although laid down as one large island, is probably composed of small ones, divided by navigable straits; a better acquaintance with which might facilitate the voyage from Singapore to the more eastern islands, by bringing to light other passages beside those of Rhio and Duryan; and, at any rate, would add something to our geographical knowledge in the immediate vicinity of our settlement. On the commencement of the healthy season I propose sailing from Singapore, and proceeding without loss of time to Malludu Bay, at the north end of Borneo. This spot has been chosen for the first essay; and in a country every part of which is highly interesting, and almost unknown, the mere fact of its being a British possession gives it a prior claim to attention. The objects in view may be briefly mentioned. 1. A general knowledge of the bay, and the correct position of various points--more especially the two principal headlands at its entrance, so as to determine its outline. The westernmost of these headlands, called Sampanmange, will likewise determine the extreme north point of Borneo. 2. Inquiries for the settlement of Cochin Chinese, reported, on Earl's authority, to be fixed in the vicinity of Bankoka: an intercourse will, if possible, be opened with this settlement, if in existence. 3. The rivers which flow into the bay will be carefully and minutely explored, and an attempt will be made to penetrate into the interior as far as the lake of Kini Ballu. 4. For the same purpose, every endeavor will be used to open a communication with the aboriginal inhabitants of the country, and every means employed to conciliate their good opinion; and (if the ceremony exists in this part of the island) to enter into the bonds of fraternity (described by Mr. Dalton) with some of the chiefs. I speak with great diffidence about penetrating into the interior of this country, for I am well aware of the insurmountable difficulties which the hard reality often presents, which are previously overlooked and easily overcome in the smoothness of paper, or the luxury of a drawing-room. The two points to be chiefly relied upon for this purpose are, a friendly intercourse with the natives, and the existence of navigable rivers. It is mentioned by Sir Stamford Raffles, on native authority, that a land communication, of not more than forty miles, exists between Malludu Bay and Lake Kini Ballu; but neither this computation, nor any other derived from the natives, however intelligent otherwise, can be relied on; for the inhabitants of these countries are generally ignorant of any measure for distance; and their reckoning by time is so vague, as to defy a moderately-certain conclusion. The fact, however, of the vicinity of the lake to the bay may be concluded; and it follows, as a reasonable inference, that the river or rivers flowing into the bay communicate with the lake. The existence of such rivers, which were from the locality to have been expected, is vouched for by Captain Forrest. "Most of this north part of Borneo (he says), granted to the English East India Company by the Sooloos, is watered by noble rivers: those that discharge themselves into Malludu Bay are not barred." It is by one or other of these rivers that I should hope to penetrate as far as the lake and mountain of Kini Ballu, and into the country of the Idaan. I have not been able to learn that any Malay towns of importance are situated in the bight of Malludu Bay, and their absence will render a friendly communication with the aborigines a matter of comparative ease. The advantages likely to result from such friendly relations are so evident, that I need not dwell upon them; though the mode of effecting such an intercourse must be left to the thousand contingencies which govern all, and act so capriciously on the tempers of the savage races. The utmost forbearance, and a liberality guided by prudence, so as not to excite too great a degree of cupidity, appear the fundamental rules for managing men in a low state of civilization. The results of an amicable understanding are as uncertain as its commencement; for they depend on the enterprise of the individual, and the power of the native tribe into whose hands he may have fallen. I will not, therefore, enter into a visionary field of discovery; but it appears to me certain that, without the assistance of the natives, no small party can expect to penetrate far into a country populous by report, and in many parts thickly covered with wood. Without entertaining any exaggerated expectation, I trust that something may be added to our geographical knowledge of the sea-coast of this bay, its leading features, productions, rivers, anchorages, and inhabitants, the prospect of trade, and the means of navigation; and although my wishes lead me strongly to penetrate as far as the lake of Kini Ballu, yet the obstacles which may be found to exist to the fulfillment of this desire will induce me to rest satisfied with the more moderate and reasonable results. It may not be superfluous to notice here, that a foregone conclusion appears to be spread abroad regarding the aboriginal (so called) inhabitants of Borneo, and that they are usually considered and mentioned under the somewhat vague appellation of Dyaks. They are likewise commonly pronounced as originating from the same stock as the Arafuras of Celebes and New Guinea, and radically identical with the Polynesian race. The conclusion is not in itself highly improbable, but certainly premature, as the facts upon which it is built are so scanty and doubtful as to authorize no such structure. On an island of the vast size of Borneo, races radically distinct might exist; and at any rate, the opposite conclusion is hardly justifiable, from the specimens of language or the physical appearance of the tribes of the southern portion of the country. We have Malay authority for believing that there are many large tribes in the interior, differing greatly in their degree of civilization, though all alike removed from the vicinity of a superior people. We have the Dyaks of the south; the Idaan of the north; the Kagins; and a race little better than monkeys, who live in trees, eat without cooking, are hunted by the other tribes, and would seem to exist in the lowest conceivable grade of humanity. If we may trust these accounts, these latter people resemble in many particulars the Orang Benua, or aborigines of the peninsula; but the Dyaks and Idaans are far superior, living in villages, cultivating the ground, and possessing cattle. Beside these, likewise, we have the names of several other tribes or people; and, in all probability, many exist in the interior with whom we are unacquainted. There are strong reasons for believing that the Hindoo religion, which obtained so extensively in Java and Sumatra, and yet survives at Bali and Lombock, was likewise extended to Borneo; and some authors have conceived grounds for supposing a religion anterior even to this. If only a portion of these floating opinions should be true, and the truth can only be tested by inquiry, we may fairly look for the descendants of the Hindoo dynasty as well as an aboriginal people. It never seems to have occurred to any one to compare the Dyaks with the people of Bali and Lombock. We know indeed but little of the former; but both races are fair, good-looking, and gentle. Again, respecting the concluded identity of the Dyaks and the Arafuras, it is clear we have a very limited knowledge indeed of the former; and, I may ask, what do we know of the Arafuras? In short, I feel as reluctant to embrace any preconceived theory as I am to adopt the prevailing notion on this subject; for it requires a mass of facts, of which we are wholly deficient, to arrive at anything approaching a reasonable conclusion. To return, however, to the proceedings of the Royalist, I would remark, that it depends greatly on the time passed in Malludu Bay whether our next endeavor be prosecuted at Abai on the western, or Tusan Abai on the eastern coast. The object in visiting Abai would he chiefly to penetrate to the lake, which, on the authority of Dalrymple and Burton, is not far distant thence, by a water communication; but should any success have attended similar efforts from Malludu Bay, this project will be needless, as in that case the enterprise will have been prosecuted to the westward, and reach to the vicinity of Abai. As Kaminis is the limit of the British territory to the westward, so Point Kaniungan, situated to the southward of the bay of Sandakan, forms the eastern boundary; and a line drawn from coast to coast between these points is represented as including our possessions. A reference to the chart will show the extent to be considerable; and the eastern coast from Malludu Bay to Point Kaniungan is so very little known, that it is highly desirable to become acquainted with its general features and conformation, and to seek thence the means of gaining an inlet into the interior, should it be denied at Malludu Bay. The reported proximity of Kini Ballu to Malludu Bay, and likewise to Abai would (supposing it is anything like the size it is affirmed to be) lead us to expect that it cannot be far distant from the eastern coast; and it is but reasonable to conclude that some rivers or streams discharge themselves into the sea in the numerous indentations that abound on this shore. However this may be, the coast, with its bays and islands and bold headlands, is one of great interest, and almost unknown; and the careful inspection of it as far as Point Kaniungan will, I trust, add something to our knowledge. The longitude of Point Kaniungan and Point Unsang will likewise determine the eastern extremity of Borneo. Much more might be added on this topic, especially of the reported communication by a line of lakes from Malludu Bay to Banjarmassim, which, if true, would in all probability place some of these lakes near particular points of the east coast, as the whole line, from the relative position of the two extremes, must be on the eastern side of the island. These reports, and the various surmises which arise from them, are rather matters for verification than discussion; and I will therefore only add that, tempted by success, I shall not devote less than a year and a half to this object; but, in case of finding a sickly climate, or meeting with a decidedly hostile population, I shall more easily abandon the field, and turn to others of not less interest, and perhaps of less risk. Equal to Borneo in riches, and superior in picturesque beauty to any part of the Archipelago, is the large and eccentric country of the Bugis, called Celebes. So deep are the indentations of its coasts, that the island may be pronounced as being composed of a succession of peninsulas, nearly uniting in a common center in the district of Palos; and thus, by the proximity of every part to the sea, offering great facilities for brief and decisive interior excursions. The Dutch are in possession of Makassar, and had formerly settlements on the northwest coast and in the bay of Sawa. Their power appears, however, never to have been very extensively acknowledged; and at present I have not been able to meet with any account of the condition of their factories. This information will probably be gained at Singapore. Avoiding the Dutch settlements, I propose limiting my inquiries to the northern and northeastern portion of the island, more especially the great bay of Gunong Tella. It is impossible to state here the direction of these inquiries, or any definite object to which they should be turned, as I am acquainted with no author who speaks of the country, save in a general and vague manner. It is reported as rich, fertile, mountainous, strikingly beautiful, and possessed of rivers; abounding in birds, and inhabited, like Borneo, by wild tribes in the interior, and by the Bugis on the sea-shores and entrance of rivers. The character of the Bugis, though so variously represented, gives me strong hopes of rendering them, by care and kindness, useful instruments in the prosecution of these researches; for all writers agree that they are active, hardy, enterprising, and commercial; and it is seldom that a people possessing such characteristics are deaf to the suggestions of self-interest or kindly feeling. The arrogance, and especially the indolence, of the Malays, counteracts the influence of these strong incentives; and the impulse which governs such rude tribes as the Dyaks and Arafuras is a dangerous weapon, which cuts all ways, and often when least anticipated. The Badjows, or sea-gipsys, are another race on whom some dependence may be placed. Mr. Earl, who had a personal acquaintance with this tribe, and could speak their language, always expressed to me a degree of confidence in their good faith, which must have had some grounds. I may here conclude the first stage of the expedition, during the progress of which the head-quarters will be fixed at Singapore. During some of the intervals I hope to see Manilla, and to acquire a cursory knowledge of the unexplored tract at the southern extremity of Celebes, called in Norie's general chart the Tiger Islands. The time devoted to the objects above mentioned must, as I have before said, be regulated by the degree of fortune which attends them; for, cheered by success, I should not readily abandon the field; yet, if persecuted by climate, or other serious detriments, I shall frequently shift the ground, to remove myself beyond such evil influence. It is scarcely needful to continue a detail of projects so distant, having already carved out for myself a work which I should be proud to perform, and which is already as extended as the chances of human life and human resolves will warrant. The continuation of the voyage would lead me to take the Royalist to Timor or Port Essington, thence making excursions to the Arru Isles, Timor Laut, and the southern shores of New Guinea. That part of the coast contiguous to Torres Straits I am particularly desirous of visiting; as it has been suggested to me by Mr. Earl, and I think with reason, that a better channel than the one we are at present acquainted with may be found there. That such a channel exists, and will be discovered when the coast is surveyed, I entertain but little doubt; but the navigation is hazardous, and must, from the westward, be attempted with great caution. My own proceedings must, of course, be regulated by the discoveries previously made by Captain Wickham or others; and as this gentleman has orders to survey Torres Straits, the field may be well trodden before I reach it. The rest of the voyage I shall consider as one merely of pleasure, combining such utility as circumstances will permit. It is probable that I shall visit our Australian settlements; glance at the islands of the Pacific; and return to Europe round Cape Horn. Before concluding, I may observe, that there are points of inquiry which may be useful to the studies of the learned, which (provided the process be moderately simple) I shall be willing to make, and I shall always be happy to receive any directions or suggestions regarding them. I allude to observations on the tides, to geology, to the branches of natural history, &c. &c., for the general inquirer often neglects or overlooks highly intersting facts, from his attention not having been called to them. The specimens of natural history will be forwarded home on every visit to Singapore; and the information will be sent ot the Geographical Society, and may always, if it be of any value, be used as freely as it is communicated. In like manner, the objects of natural history will be open to any person who is at all interested in such pursuits. I cannot but express my regret, that from pecuniary considerations as well as the small size of the vessel, and the limited quantity of provision she carries, I am unable to take a naturalist and draughtsman; but I should always hail with pleasure any scientific person who joined me abroad, or who happened to be in the countries at the time; and I may venture to promise him every encouragement and facility in the prosecution of his pursuits. I embark upon the expedition with great cheerfulness, with a stout vessel, a good crew, and the ingredients of success as far as the limited scale of the undertaking will permit; and I cast myself upon the waters--like Mr. Southey's little book--but whether the world will know me after many days, is a question which, hoping the best, I cannot answer with any positive degree of assurance. No. IV. _Sketch of Borneo, or Pulo Kalamantan, by J. Hunt_, Esq. (Communicated, in 1812, to the Honourable Sir Thomas Stamford Raffles, late Lieutenant-Governor of Java.) The island of Borneo extends from 7° 7' north to 4° 12' south latitude, and from 108° 45' to 119° 25' east longitude; measuring at its extreme length nine hundred miles, at its greatest breadth seven hundred, and in circumference three thousand. It is bounded on the north by the Solo seas, on the east by the Straits of Macassar, on the south by the Java, and on the west by the China seas. Situated in the track of the most extensive and valuable commerce, intersected on all sides with deep and navigable rivers, indented with safe and capacious harbors, possessing one of the richest soils on the globe, abounding in all the necessaries of human life, and boasting commercial products that have in all ages excited the avarice and stimulated the desires of mankind,--with the exception of New Holland, it is the largest island known. Of the existence of this extensive territory, so highly favored by Providence, and enriched by the choicest productions of nature, there remains scarce a vestige in the geographical descriptions of the day; and its rich products and fertile shores, by one tacit and universal consent, appear abandoned by all the European nations of the present age, and handed over to the ravages of extensive hordes of piratical banditti, solely intent on plunder and desolation. The natives and the Malays, formerly, and even at this day, call this large island by the exclusive name of Pulo Kalamantan, from a sour and indigenous fruit so called. Borneo was the name only of a city, the capital of one of the three distinct kingdoms on the island. When Magalhaens visited it in the year 1520, he saw a rich and populous city, a luxuriant and fertile country, a powerful prince, and a magnificent court: hence the Spaniards hastily concluded that the whole island not only belonged to this prince, but that it was likewise named Borneo. In this error they have been followed by all other European nations. The charts, however, mark this capital "Borneo Proper," or in other words, the only place properly Borneo: this is the only confession of this misnomer that I have met with among Europeans. The natives pronounce Borneo, Bruni, and say it is derived from the word Brani, courageous; the aboriginal natives within this district having ever remained unconquered. The aborigines of Borneo, or Pulo Kalamantan, still exist in the interior in considerable numbers; there are various tribes of them, speaking different dialects. Some of them acknowledge Malay chiefs, as at Landa, Songo, Mantan, &c. Several communities of them still remain under independent chiefs of their own nation; and everywhere their origin, their language, their religion, their manners and customs, are totally distinct and apparent from those of the Islams, or Malays, who have settled on the island. About Pontiana and Sambas they are called Dayers; at Benjarmasing, Biajus; at Borneo Proper, Moruts; farther northward, Orang Idan. Their original history is as much enveloped in obscurity as that of the Monocaboes of Malaya, the Rejangs and Battas of Sumatra, or the Togals of the Philippines. On a nearer acquaintance with their language, customs, traditions, &c., perhaps an affinity in origin may be discovered among all the original possessors of the Eastern isles. The Moruts and Orang Idan are much fairer and better featured than the Malays, of a more strong and robust frame, and have the credit of being a brave race of people. The Dayer is much darker, and approaches nearer in resemblance to the Malay. The Biajus I never saw. The few particulars which I have been able to collect of these people I shall briefly state: They live in miserable small huts; their sole dress consists of a slight wrapper round their waists, sometimes made of bark, at others from skins of animals, or perhaps of blue or white cloth; they eat rice or roots, and indeed any description of food, whether beast, reptile, or vermin: they are extremely filthy; this and bad food give them a cutaneous disorder, with which they are very generally afflicted. Several tribes of them smear themselves with oil and pigments, which gives them the appearance of being tattooed. Whether this is intended to defend them against the bites of insects, to operate as a cure or prevention of this epidemic, or to adorn their persons, I cannot take upon me to decide. They believe, it is said, in a Supreme Being, and offer sacrifices of gratitude to a beneficent Deity. Polygamy is not allowed among them; no man has more than one wife; they burn their dead. They are said to shoot poisoned balls or arrows through hollow tubes; and whenever they kill a man, they preserve the skull to exhibit as a trophy to commemorate the achievement of their arms. They are said to have no mode of communicating their ideas by characters or writing, like the Battas. Driven from the sea-coast of Borneo into the mountains and fastnesses in the interior, they are more occupied in the chase and the pursuits of husbandry than in commerce. They, however, barter their inland produce of camphor, gold, diamonds, birds'-nests, wax, and cattle, for salt (which they hold in the highest degree of estimation, eating it with as much _goût_ as we do sugar), china, porcelain, brass and iron cooking utensils, brass bracelets, coarse blue and white cloth, Java tobacco, arrack (which they also like), parangs, hardware, beads, &c. Some tribes of them are said to pull out their front teeth and substitute others of gold, and others adorn themselves with tigers' teeth. The greatest numbers and most considerable bodies of these men are found near Kiney Balu and about Borneo Proper. The Malays represent them as the most savage and ferocious of men; but to be more savage or ferocious than a Malay is a thing utterly impossible. Their representations may be accounted for. These aborigines have always evinced a strong disposition and predilection for liberty and freedom; they have either resisted the yoke of the Malay, or have retired to their mountains to enjoy this greatest of all human blessings. The Malay, unable to conquer them, lays plans for kidnapping as many as he can fall in with. Every Dyak so taken is made a slave of, his children sold, and his women violated. The Malay, hence, is justly considered by them as the violator of every law, human and divine; and whenever any of these people meet with one, they satiate their vengeance, and destroy him as the enemy of their race, and as a monster of the human kind. The Portuguese missionaries found these people very tractable converts, and very large bodies of them are very easily governed by a single Malay chief, as at Landa, Songo, and Matan. I have seen very large bodies of them at Kimanis and Maludu, but none of them possessing the ferocity of a Malay. The Islams, or Malayans, who now possess the sea-coasts of Borneo (as well as the sea-coasts of all the Eastern islands), are said to be colonies from Malacca, Johore, &c., planted in the fourteenth century; at this period, according to Mr. Poivre, "Malacca was a country well peopled, and was consequently well cultivated. This nation was once one of the greatest powers in the Eastern seas, and made a very considerable figure in the theater of Asia; they colonized Borneo, Celebes, Macassar, Moluccas, &c." The Malays on Borneo are like the Malays everywhere else, the most atrocious race of beings on the earth; and from their general character, and imprudent institutions, both political and religious, are fast moldering in self-decay, or mutual destruction. From the earliest date that I have been able to trace, the island of Borneo was always divided into three distinct kingdoms. The kingdom of Borneo, properly so called, extended from Tanjong Dato, in latitude 3° 15' north, to Kanukungan point, in the Straits of Macassar, 1° 15' north, which included the whole north part of the island. The kingdom of Sukadana (from _suka_, happiness, and _dunia_, the world, or earthly paradise), extending from Tanjong Dato to Tanjong Sambar, which belonged to the King of Bantam (when or how acquired I have not learned): and the remainder of the island from Tanjong Sambar to Kanukungan Point aforesaid, to the kingdom of Benjarmasing (from _bendar_, a port of trade, and _masing_, usual, or the ordinary port of trade). When the Portuguese first visited Borneo, in 1520, the whole island was in a most flourishing state. The numbers of Chinese that had settled on her shores were immense; the products of their industry, and an extensive commerce with China in junks, gave her land and cities a far different aspect from her dreary appearance at this day, and their princes and courts exhibited a splendor and displayed a magnificence which has long since vanished. Pigofetta says there were twenty-five thousand houses in the city of Borneo Proper, and that it was rich and populous. Much later accounts describe the numbers of Chinese and Japanese junks frequenting her ports as great; but in 1809 there were not three thousand houses in the whole city, nor six thousand Chinese throughout that kingdom, and not a junk that had visited it for years. But the ports of Borneo have not dwindled away more than Acheen, Johore, Malacca, Bantam, Ternate, &c. All these places likewise cut a splendid figure in the eyes of our first navigators, and have since equally shared a proportionate obscurity. Were the causes required which have eclipsed the prosperity of Borneo and the other great emporiums of Eastern trade that once existed, it might be readily answered--a decay of commerce. They have suffered the same vicissitudes as Tyre, Sidon, or Alexandria; and like Carthage--for ages the emporium of the wealth and commerce of the world, which now exhibits on its site a piratical race of descendants in the modern Tunisians and their neighbors the Algerines--the commercial ports of Borneo have become a nest of banditti, and the original inhabitants of both, from similar causes--the decay of commerce--have degenerated to the modern pirates of the present day. In exact proportion as the intercourse of the Europeans with China has increased, in precise ratio has the decrease of their direct trade in junks become apparent. The Portuguese first, and subsequently the Dutch, mistress of the Eastern seas, exacted by treaties and other ways the Malay produce at their own rates, and were consequently enabled to undersell the junks in China. But these powers went further; by settling at ports on Borneo, or by their guardas de costas, they compelled the ports of Borneo to send their produce, calculated for the China market, to Malacca and Batavia, which at length completely cut up the direct trade by means of the Chinese junks. The loss of their direct intercourse with China affected their prosperity in a variety of ways. First, by this circuitous direction of their trade, the gruff goods, as rattans, sago, cassia, pepper, ebony, wax, &c., became too expensive to fetch the value of this double carriage and the attendant charges, and in course of time were neglected; the loss of these extensive branches of industry must have thrown numbers out of employment. But the loss of the direct intercourse with China had more fatal effects; it prevented large bodies of annual emigrants from China settling upon her shores; it deprived them of an opportunity of visiting the Borneon ports, and exercising their mechanical arts and productive industry; and of thus keeping up the prosperity of the country in the tillage of the ground, as well as in the commerce of her ports. The old Chinese settlers by degrees deserted these shores; and to fill up the chasms in their revenues by so fatal a change, the rajahs have been tempted to turn their views to predatory habits, and have permitted their lands to run to jungle, by dragging their wretched laborers from agricultural employments to maritime and piratical enterprises. The first material alteration in the sovereignty of the territorial possession took place in the kingdom of Borneo Proper, when her rajah was obliged to call in the aid of the Solos to defend him against an insurrection of the Maruts and Chinese. In consideration of this important aid, the Rajah of Borneo Proper ceded to the Sultan of Solo all that portion of Borneo then belonging to him, from Kimanis, in latitude 5° 30' north, to Tapean-durian, in the Straits of Macassar, which includes the whole north of Borneo. After this period, the power and fortunes of the Sultan of Solo rapidly declined. The Spaniards succeeded in conquering all their islands. Solo, the capital, was taken and fortified; the sultan and his court made prisoners. When the English captured Manilla, they found this sultan incarcerated. They agreed to relieve him from prison, and reinstate him on the musnud of his forefathers under the express stipulation that the whole of the aforesaid territory of Borneo, ceded to Solo by the rajah of that kingdom, should be transferred to the English East India Company, together with the south of Palawan, and the intermediate islands. These terms were joyfully acceded to by the Sultan of Solo, and signed, sealed, and delivered by him to the late Alexander Dalrymple, in the year 1763. The kingdom of Sukadana was ceded by the Rajah of Bantam (in what year I know not) to the Dutch East India Company. Whether the kingdom of Benjarmasing was ever actually ceded to the Dutch or not, I have not been able to learn. But the occupancy of her capital, the military government of the country, by the erection of forts, and a permanent standing force, since transferred to the English arms, give to the East India Company, actually or virtually, the entire sovereignty and rule over the whole of this large island, with the exception of the piratical port of Borneo Proper, and the portion of territory yet annexed thereto. The Portuguese, at a very early period, established themselves at Benjarmasing: at Borneo Proper there still remain two bastions and a curtain of a regular stone fort built by them: they had also one on the island of Laboan, since destroyed. They fixed themselves at old Sambas, from which they were driven by the Dutch in the year 1690, and nearly about this period from all their establishments on Borneo. When, or from what causes, the Dutch were induced to evacuate Sambas, I know not, nor have I learned the period when they fortified themselves at Benjarmasing and Pasir, but believe it could not have taken place before the middle of the last century. They, however, settled at Pontiana in 1786, and built a fortified wall round the palace and factory, but were compelled to withdraw from it when the war broke out with the English in 1796. The ports at Benjarmasing, when evacuated, were sold by the Dutch to the sultan, and are since said to have been repurchased from him by the English. The Dutch obtaining the cession of the kingdom of Sukadana from the Rajah of Bantam, and their subsequent measures in different parts of this territory, will show that they had extensive views of firmly establishing themselves on this island; and waking from an age of lethargy, at last began to see the great advantages and unbounded resources these rich possessions were capable of affording them, without any cost or expense whatever. The year they withdrew from Pontiana they had it in contemplation to take repossession of Sambas, and to unite all the ports, as well as the interior, under the Rajah of Pontiana, in trust for them. Some letters to this effect were written by the Dutch government to the late rajah. That the English were not insensible to the value and importance of the once valuable commerce of Borneo may be inferred not only from the number of the Honorable Company's regular ships annually dispatched to her ports prior to the year 1760 (vide Hardy's Shipping Register), but from the efforts they have repeatedly made to establish themselves on her shores. There still exist the remains of a British factory at Borneo Proper. Before the year 1706, they had made two successive attempts to fortify themselves at Benjarmasing; twice they have attempted an establishment on the sickly island of Balambangan (lying north of Borneo, near Maludu); and in 1775, the Honorable Company's ship Bridgewater was sent to Pasir with similar views. The failure of these British attempts, as well as the exclusion of all other powers from the ports of Borneo, may be principally attributed to the sordid desire of the Dutch of monopolizing the whole produce of the Eastern Archipelago, and their rooted jealousy in opposing the establishment of every other power in the vicinity of Java, or that of the Spice Islands. These considerations and feelings have induced them to commit the most flagrant crimes, not only against the natives of these regions, but against every European power. Their infamous massacres at Amboyna, Banda, Bantam, &c., have been historically recorded to their eternal disgrace. By their intrigues at Benjarmasing, the British attempts at a settlement twice failed; and Forrest, in his Voyage to New Guinea, says, that the Solos were by Dutch instigation induced to cut off the infant establishment of Balambangan, in 1775. They frustrated the attempts of the Bridgewater at Pasir; and even the massacre of the garrison of Pulo Condore was effected by Javanese soldiers supplied by the governor of Batavia. The English, from their strong desire of having a port in the China seas, hastily pitched upon the most unhealthy spots for that purpose, viz. Balambangan and Pulo Condore. The father of the present Sultan of Pontiana was the descendant of an Arab, residing at Simpan, near Matan. By the advice and concurrence of the Dutch he was induced, about forty-two years ago, to settle on the unfrequented shores of the river Pontiana, or Quallo Londa, with promises of early coöperation and assistance, as well as of rendering it the mart of the trade and capital of all Sukadana. As soon as Abdul Ramman (the name of the first sultan) had succeeded in attracting around him several Chinese, Buguese, and Malay settlers, and in building a town, the Dutch (in 1786) came with two armed brigs and fifty troops to establish their factory. To make good their promises to Abdul Ramman (the treaty I have never seen), they immediately overthrew the chief of Mompava, and gave his country in trust to this ally: they shortly after invested the ancient city of Sukadana, burned it to the ground, transferred the inhabitants to Pontiana, or dispersed them and their chief into the interior. The Dutch likewise placed the present rajas on the musnuds of Songo, Landa, &c., and kept up a force at the former, with the express stipulation that the whole of their produce should be sent from each of their respective districts to the Dutch factory of Pontiana. They had it in contemplation, in 1795, to take repossession of Sambas, and wrote to Abdul Ramman as to the preparatory measures requisite, when the English war, as before observed, obliged them to abandon Pontiana. This Abdul Ramman, the first sultan or chief of Pontiana, reigned thirty-five years, and died in 1807, leaving his eldest son, the present Sultan Kasim, now forty-six years of age, his successor; who has a second brother, called Pangeran Marko, aged thirty-eight, and Pangeran Hosman, thirty-six years, beside four sisters, one of whom married the present Rajah of Matan, and about seventy half brothers and sisters, the natural children of his father, with an extensive sub-progeny. The present sultan has three sons (Abibuker, heir-apparent, twenty-one years old, Ali, and Abdul Ramman), and four daughters, lawfully begotten. None of the royal family make use of either opium, betel, or tobacco, in any shape whatever; and the present sultan has much the appearance of an Arab. The grandfather of the present sultan was from Arabia, a Sayed Suriff; one of his relations was fixed at Palimbang, whose name is unknown to me, and the other, Shad Fudyel, at Acheen, who has been long dead. The wet season commences from September, and ends in April, when heavy rain, hard squalls, and much thunder and lightning are experienced. From April till September is called the dry season, but even in this portion of the year seldom a day elapses without a smart shower or two. The monsoons on the northerly shores of Borneo are found to correspond with those prevalent in the China seas, viz. from the N.E. from October to April, and from the S.W. the rest of the year. To the southward, about Benjarmasing, the monsoons are the same as in the Java seas, _i. e._ westerly from October to April, and easterly the rest of the year. Those parts of Borneo near or upon the equator have variable winds all the year, and land and sea breezes close in shore. This country is by no means so warm as one would be led to imagine by its proximity everywhere to the line: this arises from the perpetual refreshing showers and the land and sea breezes, the former being wafted over innumerable rivers. In the month of November, the thermometer at Pontiana ranges from 78° to 82°. During the wet season, the rivers swell and overflow the adjacent shores, and run down with such continued rapidity, that the water may be tasted fresh at sea at the distance of six or seven miles from the mouths: these overflowings fertilize the banks and adjacent country, and render the shores of Borneo, like the plains of Egypt, luxuriantly rich. Susceptible of the highest possible culture, particularly in wet grain, in the dry season the coast, from these overflowings, presents to the eye the richest enameled fields of full grown grass for miles around. It is at this season that whole herds of wild cattle range down from the mountains in the interior to fatten on the plains, but during the wet season they ascend to their hills. The whole of the north, the northwest, and the center of Borneo is extremely mountainous. The greatest portion of the ancient kingdom of Borneo Proper is extremely elevated. That of Kiney Baulu, or St. Peter's Mount, in latitude 6° north, is perhaps one of the highest mountains known. The country about Sambas, Pontiana, and Sukadana is occasionally interspersed with a few ranges of hills, otherwise the land here might be deemed low. But to the southward, and more particularly to the east, in the Straits of Macassar, it is very low. The shore in these latter places is extremely moist and swampy, but the interior is said to be dry. The common charts of Borneo will show the innumerable rivers that water this vast island in every possible direction; but it is worthy of remark, that all the principal rivers on this island have their main source in a large lake in the vicinity of that stupendous mountain before mentioned, Kiney Baulu. The river Benjarmasing takes its rise from thence, and after traversing in all its windings a distance of 1500 miles, intersecting the island into two parts, falls into the Java sea. Its rise and fall is said to be twelve feet, and it has only nine feet at low water on the bar. It is said to have numberless villages scattered on its banks; but I have obtained no particular accounts of them, or their produce. The great river of Borneo Proper is certainly the finest on the island. It is a deep, navigable, and majestic stream; it has three fathoms upon the bar at low water; the rise and fall is, I believe, fifteen feet; there are docks here for Chinese junks of five or six hundred tons, and a first-rate ship of war might get up far above the town. The country, too, is populous, productive, and healthy. The southern branch of this river has been well surveyed, but the branch leading to the Marut country is little known; it has its source in Kiney Baulu. In the ancient kingdom of Sukadana, the five principal rivers are the Sukadana, the Lava, the Pogore, the Pontiana, and the Sambas. The former rivers communicate inland, and their main source is in Kiney Baulu. The whole of these rivers are deep and navigable for seventy or eighty miles; but have all of them mud flats at their mouths, which would not admit of the entry of vessels exceeding fourteen feet at high water springs. The third most considerable river on Borneo is the Kinabatangan, lying in the north of the island, and emptying itself into the Sulo seas. It is said to be deep and navigable much farther than the Benjarmasing river; it has several mouths, but it has never been surveyed. The rivers Kuran, Pasir, and a variety of others that fall into the Straits of Macassar, are said to be noble streams, navigable for vessels of large burthen; but I have no accurate information of them. The harbor of Sandakan is one of the finest in the world; a correct chart of the same is published. The harbor of Tambisan, near Cape Unsing, is equal to Pulo Pinang, and calculated for careening and building ships; a tolerable chart of these is also published. The harbors of Pulo Laut, Punangan, Maludu, and several others in the Straits of Macassar, afford good anchorage and complete shelter for shipping. Situated as Borneo is, immediately under the equator, everything that can be produced in vegetation by the combined influence of heat and moisture is here displayed in the highest luxuriance and super-excellence. All the Oriental palms, as the cocoa-nut, the areca, the sago, &c., abound here. The larger grasses, as the bamboo, the canna, the nardus, assume a stately growth, and thrive in peculiar luxuriance. Pepper is found wild everywhere, and largely cultivated about Benjarmasing and the districts of Borneo Proper. The _laurus cinnamomum_ and _cassia odoriferata_ are produced in abundance about Kimanis. In no part of the world does the camphor-tree flourish in equal perfection as in the districts of Maludu and Payton, in the north of Borneo. The ebony, the dammar, the tree that yields the finest dragon's blood in the world, all abound here. The cotton and coffee trees are found in all parts of Borneo, though not much attended to. The chocolate nut of Sulo is preferred at Manilla to that from South America. The tree that yields the clove-bark, and the nutmeg, and clove, thrive luxuriantly, though never tried to any extent. The woods about Pontiana for carpentry and joinery, are kayu bulean, chena, mintangore, laban, ebony, iron-wood, dammar, and dammar laut, &c. &c. The pine abounds in the bay of Maludu, teak at Sulo. The fruit-bearing trees which enrich and adorn the Indian continent, offer, on the Borneon shore, all their kindred varieties, nurtured by the bountiful hand of luxuriant nature. The durian, mangustin, rambutan, proya, chabi, kachang, timon, jambu, kniban, beside the nanka or jack, tamarind, pomplemose, orange, lemon, and citron, all the kindred varieties of the plantain, banana, melon, annanas, pomegranate, &c., are found on Borneo. The garden-stuffs met with are onions, garlic, yams, pumpkins, brinjals, greens, beans, cucumbers; and turnips, cabbages, and potatoes would succeed, were there Europeans to attend to them. The elephant was said to be seen about Cape Unsing, where several teeth are still found; but it is conceived this animal is extinct on the island. There are no dromedaries nor camels; nor are horses, asses, or mules met with on Borneo (the former are seen at Sulo). None of the larger breed of the feline species are found here, as the lion, tiger, leopard; nor the bear, the wolf, the fox, nor even a jackal, or dog, that I ever saw. The ourang-outang, or the man of the woods, is the most singular animal found in these regions. The rivers swarm with alligators, and the woods with every variety of the monkey tribe. The names of other animals on Borneo are the bodok or rhinoceros, pelando or rabbit, rusa or stag, kijang or doe, minjagon, babi utan or wild hog, tingileng, bintangan, &c. There are buffaloes, goats, bullocks, hogs, beside the rat and mouse species; a dog I never saw on Borneo. There are few snakes on the sea-coast, owing to the moisture; plenty, however, are found in the interior. The musketoe, the fly, the frog, and the noisy beetle, with other insects and vermin found in Malay countries, abound here. The coasts and rivers abound with excellent and wholesome fish in the greatest variety, and of the most delicious flavors; but such is the miserable state of society, that few Malays have either the inclination or the inducement to venture beyond the mouths of their rivers in quest of them; and even there they are more indebted to the industry of the Chinese with their fishing-stakes than to their own labor for the supply of their markets. The names of their fish are, the kakab, klabaw, jilawat, lai-is, pattain, udang or prawn, shrimp, talang, sinanging, bawan, rowan, taylaon, duri, bleda, tingairy, alu-alu, pako, jumpul, pari or skait, boli ayam, tamban or shad, belut or eel, iyu or shark, lida or sole, batu batu, kabab batu, klaoi, krang or cockle, tiram or oyster, tipy and lapis pearl oysters, cupang or muscle, all the varieties of the turtle, with several other sorts. The ornithology of Borneo is somewhat limited. There are the bayan, nuri, dara, pepit or sparrow, tukukur or turtle-dove, berkey, kandang, kiridi, gogaw or crow, seyrindit, layang or swallow, kalilawan. The Chinese rear ducks; the tame fowl abounds; but the turkey, goose, and peafowl are seldom met with. The principal gold mines on Borneo are in the vicinity of Sambas. There is a mountain called Guning Pandan, about eighty miles inland; from this branch out three rivers--one leads to Mompava, one to Batu Bulat near Tanjong Mora, and one to Landa; the whole intermediate area between the above rivers is of a firm yellow argillaceous schistus, or ferruginous quartz, interspersed with horn and vitreous ores, of a remarkable dark reddish color, abounding with the richest veins of gold, and equal if not superior to any mine extant. There are only fifty parets or mines now wrought in the whole kingdom of Sukadana, thirty of which are in the Sambas district, each mine having at least three hundred men, Chinese, employed in them. Their pay, one with another, is four dollars per mensem. The mines are rented from the rajah at the rate of fifty bunkals of gold per mine per annum, beside a capitation tax of three dollars per head on every Chinaman. There are thirty thousand Chinese in the Sambas districts, and they feel themselves strong enough to oppose or evade this tax; it hence becomes a perpetual contest between greedy extortion on the one side, and avaricious chicane on the other; there are beside about twelve thousand Malays and Dayers. The Laurat gold mines are situated to the eastward of the town of Sambas, and are particularly rich and productive. The mines of Siminis are one day's journey from Sambas, up a small creek leading from Sambas river, below the town; and the mines are abundant. Salako is up a river fifteen miles south of the Sambas river; it lies nearly forty miles up, but communicates with Sambas by another river: here the metal is found more abundant than anywhere else; and twenty thousand Chinese are found in this district. Mantrado is three days' journey up the Mompava river; it is under an independent Malay prince. Some accounts make the population of this district great, near fifty thousand Dayers, Malays, and Chinese; but perhaps half the number may be nearer the truth; these are chiefly employed on the gold mines, and in producing food for the miners; these mines, however, do not produce that quantity which they might under Chinese management. Mandore is about a day's journey from Pontiana, and belongs to the sultan; it is reckoned a very rich mine, though but recently wrought. There are as yet only twelve parets of about two hundred men each, but it is capable of extension. Likewise are found in this district some very rich specimens of copper ore; it has not as yet been wrought, gold being deemed a much more productive article. The sultan wishes, however, he had some boring utensils and an experienced miner, to enable him to decide whether it would be worth working under the peculiar circumstances above mentioned. Numbers of Chinese are settled in this district, and the population is annually increasing. About three days' journey up the Pongole river lies the district of Songo, with a population of twenty-five thousand souls, Dayers, and a few Chinese, under a Malay and an independent prince. The population is chiefly employed on the rich mines of gold in the neighborhood, which is particularly pure and abundant; but the mines are not wrought with the same industry as those under Chinese management. The Dutch thought it of so much consequence as to keep a force at Songo, and to place the present rajah on that musnud. About two days' journey farther up lies another gold district, called Santam, the inhabitants of which are principally Dayers. Beyond Santam, and higher up on the same river, lies the town of Sukadow, abounding in gold, the inhabitants of which are also Dayers. Matan belongs to the rajah of that name: he had the title of Rajah of Sukadana, until driven out of the latter place by the Dutch, seventeen years ago. There are ten thousand Dayers in this district, and a few Chinese and Malays. The mines of gold are abundant, and capable of becoming highly productive, as well as the mines of iron and unwrought tin; but the sultan is much addicted to the use of opium, and hence neglects a valuable country, capable, under better management, of becoming the most valuable district on all Borneo. About three days' journey from Pontiana lies the celebrated mountain of Landa, which, after Golconda, is the most valuable diamond mine in the world. There are at least thirty thousand people, principally Dayers, employed on the mines and agriculture; it belongs to a Malay prince, raised to that musnud twenty-five years ago by the Dutch, through the agency of the present Sultan of Pontiana: here also much gold is produced; and much more might be had under proper management. There is a very valuable gold mine in the north of Borneo, at a place called Tampasuk, situated in the district ceded to the English by the Sultan of Sulo; but having become the principal pirate port on the coast, the working of the mines has been discontinued. The whole produce of the gold mines of Sukadana is said to be annually about twenty piculs, or a million of dollars, at twenty-five dollars a bunkal; but no calculation of this sort can possibly be correct. Living, as the Chinese do, under the rapacity of despotic and ferocious freebooters, who are actuated by no one principle of honor, justice, or good faith, it is their interest to conceal the riches they amass, not only to preserve themselves from the clutches of these tyrants, but as the most compact substance to transport to their native shores, to which they repair with the fruits of their industry, by the annual junks that arrive at Pontiana, leaving the mines to new settlers: from two to three hundred leave Pontiana every year. The standard of Slakow gold at Pontiana is affixed at twenty-three Spanish dollars the bunkal, of two dollars weight. The Songo and Laurat is twenty-five dollars the said bunkal. Not having had an opportunity to inspect any of the gold mines personally, I know not if the ores readily melt of themselves, or whether they require the aid of any fluxes before they yield the metal; but I believe the principal attention of the miners is directed to the rich veins of pure native gold, and that no operation is performed beyond that of pulverizing, and simple washing; all the gold about Pontiana being in dust, though some I have met with in Borneo Proper was run into bars. About Landa, where the diamonds are found, the whole of the stratum is observed to be a clay of a red burnt appearance, nearly to the same degree as that of burnt bricks, which gives to the rivers hereabouts a peculiar tinge. Whether this has been formed by the action of subterraneous fires, or is the effect of volcanoes or earthquakes, I cannot decide; the latter are said to be frequently felt at Pontiana and at Sambas; and the former are said to exist in the central mountains of Borneo. From the slovenly manner in which the diamonds are sought for by the Dayers, they seldom collect them of a size exceeding three or four carats weight each. When rough, the Landa diamond has a white or yellow hue; but none are found of that inky and flinty tinge, so valuable in some of the Golconda diamonds. But that Landa does produce them of a very considerable size, the extensive and valuable specimens in Java, as well as the quantities annually sent to Batavia, will evince. The King of Matan is at this instant in possession of a diamond weighing 367 carats: the value of which, according to the old mode of calculation, would be (367 x 367 x 2 = 269,378_l._) The Sultan of Pontiana says, however, that a much larger price was offered for it by the Dutch government of Java. He refused, it is said, twenty-five laks of dollars, two sloops of rice, fifty pieces of cannon, and a hundred muskets. Several from twenty to thirty carats have been dug up. At Mompava there are said to be very rich copper mines; but from want of population, a vigorous government, and scientific mineralogists, little is to be hoped from them at the present day. At Pulo Bongorong, near Borneo Proper, there is plenty of loadstone found. About one degree north of Sambas there is a country called Sarawak, belonging to the Rajah of Borneo Proper; there is a vast district abounding in tin, in veins as rich and as plentiful as those wrought on Banca: but they have been neglected for a series of years; they were partially wrought before those of the latter were discovered, in the beginning of the last century. The tyranny of that government, the want of hands, and the contiguity of rich and valuable gold-mines, have together caused their utter neglect; and there is little probability of more favorable results, except under a change of government, and a happier order of things. In the Matan districts there is an extensive and most valuable iron-mine, producing pure metal without any admixture of ore: it is fully equal in quality to the best Swedish iron. They run it into shot, and much of it is exported; but the gold-mines in its vicinity, and the want of a proper government, are obstacles to its further productiveness and utility. At Maday, on the northeast coast of Borneo, in the province of Mangidara, there is a very rich mine of gold. Pasir and Coti, in the Straits of Macassar, produce considerable quantities of gold; and gold and diamonds are brought down by the river to Benjarmasing. I have, however, no accurate information on the subject, and can simply note the general fact. There are several fine specimens of crystal found at Kimanis and Sulo; they call them water diamonds. To give full effect to the mines in the kingdom of Sukadana, says the Sultan of Pontiana, and to raise the excess of food required for the additional hands, would together give employment to at least a million of Chinese. Under the British flag, he thinks thousands of new settlers will find their way in the annual junks. All that extensive range, from Cape Unsing, passing by the Tawi Tawi islands and Sulo, as far as Baselan, is one vast continued bed of pearl-oysters, principally of the Behoren or mother-of-pearl-shell species; these are called by the natives _tipi_. There is likewise an extensive bed of the Ceylon oyster, called by the Malays _kapis_; the principal banks of the latter are found in Maludu Bay. The Sulo pearls have, from time immemorial, been the most celebrated, and praised as the most valuable of any in the known world. Pigofetta, the companion of Magalhaens, mentions having seen in 1520 two Sulo pearls in the possession of the Rajah of Borneo as large as pullet eggs. Very large ones, from one to two hundred _chaw_ weight, are at all times to be purchased at Sulo; and there are altogether sold here to the China junks, the Spaniards, &c. more than two laks of dollars worth annually. The quantity of mother-of-pearl-shell, _communibus annis_, sold there is two thousand piculs, at six dollars a picul. The fishery is partly carried on by the Malays, and partly by the Chinese; the large pearls they endeavor to conceal as much as possible, from a law that all pearls above a certain size of right belong to the sultan. "The small narrow guts," says Dalrymple in his account of the Sulo seas, "about Tawi Tawi, are the most rich and valuable fishery in the world." I have had an opportunity of inspecting the banks about Manar and Tutacoryn, as well as all the banks in the Sulo seas; but the former have not banks near as extensive, equaling in the quantity of oysters, in productiveness, size, or richness, the Sulo pearl, nor are they to be compared in any way to the Sulo beds. Still the Ceylon fishery has netted the British Government from one to two laks of pagodas for permitting it to be fished fourteen days annually. As this portion of Borneo belongs to the English, a much greater revenue might be drawn from these vast sources of wealth, under proper management. As there are no people of sufficient opulence to contract for so vast a fishery, the Company might undertake it themselves; three or four gun-boats would be necessary to protect the fishermen; and a small fort should be erected at Tambisan or Tawi Tawi. But it is necessary to observe, the Sulo people do not practice diving at all, as is the case at Beharen and Ceylon, but only comprehend the slow method of dredging for the tipy with a thing like the fluke of a wooden anchor. It would be a desirable thing, in the event of prosecuting this valuable fishery as a national concern, to obtain forty or fifty Arab divers from Beharen, and perhaps an equal number of Chulias from Nagore and Negapatam, from the number employed annually on the Ceylon fishery. These men would teach the Malay the superiority of diving, which can, in fourteen days' fishing, bring into government a revenue of two laks of pagodas, pay the expenses of the fishery, and enrich all parties concerned; while the Malayan operose plan of dredging perhaps affords but a precarious subsistence. But had they divers, from the extent of the banks, instead of fourteen days in the year, they might, one after another, be fished the whole year round, and never be exhausted. The Chinese fishermen, though laborious, possess no enterprise, and can never be prevailed on to dive, from apprehension of the sharks. The Caffris from New Guinea and the Arroes would be superior to them. The Sultan of Sulo, in 1810, proposed to me to bring over one hundred Chulia divers from Negapatam on our joint expense and profit: and the divers agreed to go over on receiving each twenty-five rupees advance, their victuals being found, and one-fourth of the produce of oysters allowed them, as at Ceylon. Circumstances, however, occurred to prevent an undertaking which I think must have turned out highly lucrative. They dredge the banks all the year round. The water on the Tahow, Maludu, and Tawi Tawi banks, is from seven to ten fathoms deep; in other places they fish in fifteen fathoms water. The Malays of Borneo understand the art of cutting, polishing, and setting their diamonds. Gold and silver filagree works they excel in; gunpowder is manufactured at Pontiana; brass cannon is cast at Borneo Proper; iron-shot is run from their mine. They can manufacture and repair krises, and clean their arms. Their carpentry extends to the building and repairing of prows, and the erecting of a hut. Their industry is further exerted in collecting birds'-nests and wax; in cutting rattan and felling timber; in the pearl and tripan fisheries; or as mariners in commercial or piratical pursuits. The tillage of the ground and the edible fisheries are often left to the more indefatigable industry of the Chinese. For the exercise of every other useful occupation also, the mechanical and scientific arts, and the labor of the mines, these indolent savages are indebted solely to the superior industry and civilization of the Chinamen. The amusements of the Malays in other parts are unpractised on the shores of Borneo: the only ones I ever saw were flying the kite, swimming, and the songs of their women; this latter is confined to the rajahs. Wherever a water-communication on Borneo presents, the indolence of the Malay will not permit him to think of the construction of a road. In the interior, however, there are pathways in all directions; about Mompava, where the river is narrow and shallow, they have constructed several roads. Being a people much occupied in maritime pursuits, they prefer, like the amphibious Dutch, traveling by rivers, or the innumerable cuts, canals, and creeks, which everywhere intersect the country: beside, their prows afford more protection from surprise, and they conceive their town as safer by being surrounded by a jungle and situated in a swamp; nor have they any conception beyond water-carriage. Their laws neither depend upon the Koran nor any written code, human or divine, beyond the whim and caprice of the chief (assassin) and his gang of desperadoes. The Sultan of Pontiana has, however, established the following regulations: Punishments for murder:--Life for life, except when the parties can commute the same by fine. A proclamation is publicly affixed announcing the law, that if any person be found adulterating gold-dust, or uttering it, so depreciated, with a view to defraud, the perpetrator shall lose his right arm, and the adulterated gold shall be confiscated. For theft:--Five dollars per head is given by the sultan to any one bringing in the head of a thief: if brought in alive, he is suspended by the heels and flogged as far as nature can bear short of death, and the punishment repeated _ad libitum_. Prisoners taken from an enemy, whether found in arms or not, are made slaves of, or suffer death, at the option of the captor. The Malay government is said to exhibit the feudal system in its most perfect form. The chief, or rajah, issues his orders to the Pangerans, or princes of the blood; to the Datus, or nobles of royal descent; or to the Orang Kayas, or wealthy vassals. All these obey and follow him to war, free of expense, when the king is sufficiently powerful to enforce it; but whenever the vassal feels himself strong enough to throw off the yoke, and to assert his independence, he sets up for himself. These vassals exact the same obedience from their slaves or villains, who pay the like deference only so long as they are compelled to observe and obey them. The property acquired by a slave he is often allowed to enjoy unmolested during his lifetime; but at his death, his master administers to the estate as heir, executor, and sole legatee. In fact, it is a government that inspires on all sides one universal distrust--that rules by precedents of oppression without a view to protection. The chiefs dread the power of their vassals, who, in return, apprehend everything from the rapacity of the governing power; while the bulk of the people, having no property to lose, are still compelled to appear abroad armed to defend their very persons from the outrage and violence of the next assassin they meet. Where governments not only tolerate murder, rapine, thefts, piracies, conflagrations, with every outrage violating the happiness and safety of society, but are the first to set the example and to consecrate the atrocity--where the people are taught no one principle of morality or religion--where the arts and sciences are wholly unknown or despised--where the amusements and sociabilities of human life are totally disregarded--where the bounties and comforts of nature are rather dispensed with than enjoyed, and where the absolute necessaries to existence and the decorations of life are more scanty and wretched than yet discovered among the rudest set of barbarians extant; if, from the experience of the past, expectations of the future are to be formed, we may safely infer that every vestige of Malay government and dominion will be ingulfed in the vortex of self and mutual destruction. Such a system of society has in itself the seeds of dissolution, and is rapidly verging to an inherent decay and general oblivion, which it will doubtless meet, unless some beneficent power arrest its baneful impetus, and direct its feverish energies through channels calculated to promote the happiness and to consolidate the welfare of the inhabitants of these scattered regions. Should so fortunate an occurrence ever fall to the lot of Borneo--should a strong and a wise government ever be established on her shores--a government that will religiously respect property and secure to industry the fruits of her labor--that will, by a wise system of laws, protect the peaceable and punish the violator of the laws of a well-organized society--that will direct their industry to useful purposes, and check their propensities to violence and plunder--such a government, in a short series of years, would behold, as if by magic, a paradise burst from her wilds, see cultivation smile upon her jungles, and hail a vast and increasing population, blessing the hand that awoke them to life, to happiness, and to prosperity. That so felicitous a change is not the mere reverie of a glowing imagination, or the sheer effusion of benevolence alone, is easily demonstrable. Whoever has seen the Egyptian fertility of the soil, from the moistness of the climate, the numberless rivers meandering around and intersecting the country in all directions, with the mild temperature of the climate, from similar causes--whoever considers the vast extent and inexhaustible wealth of her innumerable mines of pure native gold, her block-tin, her copper, her iron, her diamonds, &c., her various valuable fisheries of pearl and tripan--whoever views her ports, her harbors, and her productive shores, at the threshold of the over-teeming population of China, and at the same moment recollects that the country abounds in various valuable products in the highest possible estimation, and of increasing demand in the empire of China, must easily conceive what a tempting field and rich harvest this land of promise holds out to their industry and cupidity under such a system of laws and government as we have deemed a _sine quâ non_. If, under the present codes of tyranny, oppression, and general ferocity, where nothing is permanent but violence and desolation--if, under such a system of barbarism, a hundred thousand Chinese (which is the fact) have found inducements sufficiently strong to settle on her shores, what might we not hope and expect from the overburdened population of that vast empire under a happier order of things? The astonishing number of Chinese settled within a few years at Pulo Pinang, on a contracted soil, possessing no peculiar advantages but from a free trade and equitable laws impartially administered, is both a fact and an illustration; and what might not Borneo hope for from a happier soil, greater inducements, and other physical advantages? Java, under the despotism of the Dutch, with the character of a sickly climate, and the remembrance of the cruel massacre of sixty thousand innocent Chinese, could still boast a hundred thousand of these people at the period it fell to the British arms; and withal, let it be remembered that these shores were once blessed with the industry of these people to a far greater extent under a happier period of her history. Whatever, indeed, might prove the work of ages in various other parts of the globe would, under the present circumstances of the Chinese empire, be instantaneous on these shores; and their habits of industry and civilization, when once rooted to the soil, would soon spread their genial influence to the extensive population of the interior, unite them in the bonds of social life, cement them in the general prosperity, and render these extensive shores a valuable appendage and an increasing resource to the wealth and power that brought about so happy a revolution in their affairs. For a considerable series of years past, the piratical ports of Borneo, &c., have been in the habit of committing depredations upon the commerce of British India, in the capture of her ships, the insulting of her flag, the offering of outrageous violence to the persons and lives of her mariners, merchants, &c., and this, too, with the most perfect impunity; no retribution having been exacted, no reprisals made, no remonstrance presented, and, in fact, no notice taken of their atrocious depredations. Hence these desperadoes, from inference and experience of the past, have been led to conclude, that whatever was practicable would be tolerated; that wherever they had the means or opportunity of overpowering, it was their duty, as it was to their advantage, to seize it to their own use, without any other apprehensions of the consequences than what might arise in the attempt. Under this discouraging aspect of affairs, there was but little more left to the commercial community of India than either to abandon the valuable commerce of Borneo wholly; or, if allured to it by a prospect of gain, to proceed in armed vessels at an increased expense and high insurance, so as to cover the extraordinary risks. These enhanced prices either operated as a prohibition to the trade, or circumscribed it so much, that an occasional capture excited no surprise, and was frigidly dismissed as a matter of course. But, from the prodigious accession of territorial possession, including the whole of the vast Dutch empire in the East, the communications between these and British India have necessarily increased a thousand fold; consequently, the recent alarming depredations upon our commerce, the serious obstacles to a safe communication, almost tantamount to a blockade of our Eastern ports by these pirates, imperiously call upon the British Government to adopt the most energetic means and decisive measures to crush their power and annihilate their resources, either by extirpating them wholly, or placing them and their possessions under such future control and checks, as shall prevent the possibility of a revival of a power capable of recurring to enormities that have so long outraged and disgraced the British flag in the Eastern seas. The idea of extirpating whole hordes of piratical states, were it possible, must, from its cruelty, be incompatible with the liberal principles and humane policy of a British government. The simple burning down of a Malay town can prove no serious impediment to future piratical enterprises: constructed, as they are, of bamboos, mats, and atap leaves, a town is almost rebuilt in the same period of time as it takes to destroy it. The Dutch, who had centuries of dear-bought experience, knew there was no other mode of prevention and radical cure than building small redoubts at the principal towns, and keeping up an adequate force to check piratical enterprises, and to turn their restless minds to exertions of industry; satisfied if, with the attainment of these objects, they covered the expenses of the establishment. This is the true history of the innumerable little forts on Celebes, Borneo, Timor, and all the Eastern isles. The principal piratical ports that still exist, beside those of Lingin, Rhio, and Billiton, are--1st, Pangeran Annam, at Sambas; 2d, Port Borneo Proper, and four hundred prows at Tampasuk, both under the Rajah of Borneo Proper; 3d, the Pasir pirates; 4th, the Sulo pirates; 5th, the Illano, or pirates on the Isle of Magindano. I shall, from memory, cite such few of their depredations as I recollect. In 1774, says Forrest, the British were expelled from their infant settlement of Balambangan by an insurrection of the Sulos, who, finding the garrison weak and sickly, unprepared and off their guard, murdered and plundered them, and set fire to their settlement:--this was in return for having released their sultan from prison, and reëstablished him on the musnud of his ancestors. In 1800, Captain Pavin and a boat's crew were cruelly murdered in the palace of the Sultan of Sulo while the commander was drinking a cup of chocolate: they fired upon the ship Ruby, but did not succeed in capturing her. In 1810, they plundered the wreck of the ship Harrier of a valuable cargo: several of her crew are still in slavery at Bagayan Sulo. In 1788, the ship May of Calcutta, 450 tons burden, Captain Dixon, was cut off at Borneo Proper: they were invited up to the town with the ship, and while at dinner, the sultan and his people fell upon them, and murdered Captain Dixon, three officers, and ten Europeans; the lascars were retained in slavery, the valuable cargo plundered, and the ship burnt. In 1803 the ship Susanna of Calcutta, Captain Drysdale, was cut off near Pontiana by the Sambas and Borneo pirates; the Europeans were all massacred, and the vessel taken. In 1769, Captain Sadler, with his boat's crew, was murdered by the Sambas pirates off Mompava, having a prodigious quantity of gold-dust: they did not succeed in cutting off the ship. In 1806, Mr. Hopkins and crew, of the Commerce, were murdered by the pirates of Borneo Proper; the ship was plundered by them and the Sambas pirates. In 1810, Captain Ross was cut off. In 1811, Captain Graves was cut off by the Pasir pirates with a rich cargo. In 1812, the enormities of Pangeran Annam have out-heroded Herod: these are too recent to require recapitulation. Independent of his depredations on the Coromandel, a Portuguese ship, &c., nine Europeans of the Hecate have been seized and made slaves; two have been since murdered; two have escaped; and five are hamstrung and otherwise maimed. Mrs. Ross and her son are still in slavery there. The Tampasuk pirates, belonging to the Rajah of Borneo Proper, aiding and abetting Pangeran Annam against the English, are Datu Akop, Datu Aragut, and Datu Jumbarang, with ten large men-of-war prows: there is also there the Rajah Endut, a Siak chief. Matan is under an independent rajah, who was formerly styled Sultan of Sukadana; but about seventeen years ago the Dutch burnt down his city. At length, by some pecuniary aid received from the late Sultan of Pontiana, he was enabled to reëstablish his affairs as Rajah of Matan; and, in consideration of this aid, entered into a treaty of alliance, which stipulated, that on his daughter's marriage with the grandson of the late, and son of the present. Sultan of Pontiana, he would cede his kingdom and large diamond as a marriage-portion: the parties yet remain single. Under the head mineralogy we have pointed out how valuable a country this might become under better management. Iron, gold, tin, and diamonds abound here; also much wax, pepper, rattans, garu, and about two piculs of the finest birds'-nests, which sell at twenty-eight dollars the catty at Pontiana. Most of the trade finds its way to Pontiana, Benjar, or Java, in prows. The population is about ten thousand Dayers, &c. Sukadana, once the most celebrated city on Borneo, as the name implies, a terrestrial paradise, the capital of a kingdom and a great mart of trade, since burnt down and destroyed by the Dutch, exhibits nothing but ruins. There still remain numberless delicious fruit-trees, and a country still susceptible of general cultivation, being yet clear of jungle and morass. It is utterly abandoned: that it has not been rebuilt is owing to the Rajah of Pontiana, at whose suggestion it was destroyed, and whose interest it was to keep it down, having himself risen upon its ashes. There are no towns of any importance between Matan and Pontiana. The rise of this dynasty of sultans has been noted in another place; it is, however, almost the only power that has been expressly raised, supported, and that still exists, by commerce. It is situated in latitude 4° north of the equator. The river has two mouths to it; the northern mouth is the deepest, the most direct, and of the greatest breadth; there are in this branch only two reaches up to the town. The city is no more than fifteen miles from the mouth of the rivers; its site is on the junction of the Matan and Landa rivers. About two-thirds of the way up it is fortified; first, with a battery on piles in the center of the stream, mounting five guns; on the left bank is another with wooden pales, mounting likewise five guns; on the opposite bank is a third, similar to the foregoing, with a like number of cannon; and, lastly, on the same bank is their grand battery, constructed of stone, mounting five eighteen-pounders, at the batu, or rock. Here the mausoleum of the royal family is erected, containing the tomb of the late sultan. The whole of this side of the river exhibits the marks of infant cultivation. The jungle has been, in part, cleared away, and here and there a solitary hut greets the eye. The sultan's palace has a battery of eleven guns of all sizes; none of these are calculated to make any serious resistance. So sensible is the sultan of this that he has commenced staking round with piles a low, swampy island, just detached from the palace. On this stands the grand mosk. He proposes throwing mud and stones within the ranges of piles, and planting upon them the heaviest-calibered cannon: it is a commanding site, and capable of being rendered formidable. There are no roads about Pontiana; the town is situated in the midst of a swamp, so low that the tide at high water overflows the lower parts of the houses, and this, with the addition of a country overrun with impenetrable jungle, renders it extremely unhealthy, and a most disagreeable residence. The campo China contains about two thousand souls, and lies on the left bank of the Matan river, abreast of the palace; the campo Buguese, on the right bank of the Landa; and the campo Malayu adjoins the palace. The whole population is about seven thousand souls: no Dayers are found hereabout. The whole of the districts under Pontiana produce about three hundred coyans of rice, the average selling price of which is from fifty-five to seventy Spanish dollars the coyan. The king's revenue is forty thousand dollars per annum. The Chinese plead poverty, but some of the Buguese are pointed out as wealthy. The quantity of gold that finds its way to Pontiana is annually from three to four piculs. The imports there consist of opium, iron, steel, salt, rice, hardware, cutlery, blue and white gurras, salampories, Java cloths, gunpowder, beside China produce of all possible descriptions. They make their returns in gold, diamonds, birds'-nests, wax, rattans, garu, ebony, agar-agar; beside pepper, sago, camphor, cassia, tripan, &c. brought here by the prows: five Chinese junks annually visit Pontiana, bringing down produce amounting to about fifty thousand dollars. The depredations of the Pangeran Annam prevent an extension of this most useful of all trades to this country. One or two Siamese junks arrive annually. The Tringanu, Timbilan, Karimata, and Borneo Proper prows trade here; and before Java fell to the British arms, the Buguese from the eastward traded here to a considerable amount. The stone walls built by the Dutch still encompass the palace. The piles on which their factory stood are yet discernible, but the buildings have been pulled down. Should the English hoist their flag here, a new factory must be erected; the most eligible situation for which would be where the mosk now stands, or the mosk itself might be converted into one, and another rebuilt elsewhere; but to this the sultan has insuperable objections. In an English fort, to think to have a mosk open to the ingress of a large body of Malays at all times is wholly incompatible with a certain reserve and security required from it. Beside, as the island is small, and soldiers at times inconsiderate, they might profane or defile its holy precincts, and thus lay the foundation of perpetual disputes, or even a serious rupture. The fort and factory, if built at all at Pontiana, must hence be fixed in some detached place. The sultan is building a new palace and covering it with tiles; a novelty in this quarter. There is but a scanty supply of fowls and buffaloes, and the necessaries of life are scarce and dear. It is altogether the most uncouth and dreary spot under the sun, though the sultan prefers it to Sambas and Mompava. Their naval force consists of two small ships, two brigs, fifty prows large and small, and about one thousand men. There is water on the bar to admit vessels drawing nine feet water. The roadstead, with seven fathoms water on it, lies seven miles from the river's mouth. Care must be taken not to mistake the Pongole river seen from the offing, and which lies ten miles farther southward. The only stock procurable here were hogs at ten dollars the picul, and water shipped off in China tank-boats at four and a half dollars the ton. The next port is Mompava, about sixteen miles to the northward of Pontiana, and the second port belonging to the sultan. The river is shallow, narrow, extremely serpentine, and constantly running down with great rapidity. The country around is a paradise in comparison with Pontiana. It is upon an elevated site, and, wherever the eye reaches, it is clear of jungle, and of fine rich mold, susceptible of the highest culture. There is a walk up to the town about eight miles from the mouth of the river; here the fishing-stakes nearly extend across the river, beside two miserable forts, mounting each five or six pounders, to defend the river. The population is seven thousand men, Malays, Buguese, and Dayers, and about two thousand Chinese. Formerly the territory of Mompava extended as far as 1° north latitude. This territory belonged to a chief or rajah, reduced by the Dutch twenty-five years ago, shortly after they settled at Pontiana; the territory thus conquered was delegated in trust to the Rajah of Pontiana. The Sambas rajah has forcibly taken possession of a part of it. Sultan Kassim, of Pontiana, governed this district during his father's lifetime. On his accession to the musnud, five years ago, he placed a half-brother there, a stupid fellow, about twenty-five years of age. This man, about eight months ago, was trying to establish his independence, which he found he could not maintain. It has the same trade as Pontiana, but the regulations of the sultan do not admit of any vessel's touching here for that purpose. The palace is extensive, paled round with a sort of a fortification. The campo China, in October last, was in part burnt down by the people of Sambas, to the number of four hundred houses. There is a variety of roads hereabout; one leading to Sambas, one to Landa, one to Mintrada, &c. Groves of cocoanut-trees mark the site of ancient villages, since demolished; and indicate that it once enjoyed a superiority and preëminence, of which it has been despoiled. In point of susceptibility of cultivation, it is a full half century beforehand with Pontiana; it is capable of great improvement, and much grain might be raised with very little trouble. There is a considerable mud-flat at the mouth of the Sambas river, extending four or five miles out, but no regular bar. Vessels drawing thirteen feet may get in at high water springs; nine feet is the least water, and there is thirteen at the flood. In the offing there is a rise and fall of seven feet. At the entrance of the river neither shore must be too closely hugged, having ledges of rocks near them. Twelve miles above the bar the river branches into two parts; the broad or northern branch is called the Borneo river, having its source in Kiney Baulu; the other, leading to the town of Sambas, is named the Landa river, having its source in the diamond mines; where these two unite below there was formerly a fort. The Landa river is extremely serpentine, deep to the very bushes on both sides, and quite clear of danger up to the town, except near Siminis creek, about ten miles below the fort; here a reef of rocks runs across the stream, and as the fair way over them is somewhat intricate, the channel ought to be buoyed before attempted to be passed. The Barracouta, drawing thirteen feet, just scraped them at high water. About five or six leagues up the Landa branch, and about thirteen from the sea, stands the town and palace of Sambas, on the confluence of the Landa and Salako rivers. The fort on the right bank of the Landa is about a league below the town, built of two rows of large piles, the interstices being filled up with mud and stones, apparently mounting five guns, eighteens and twelves in the lower tier, and an equal number of smaller caliber on the ascend or more elevated range. A boom or dam of fishing-stakes was constructed across the river one-eighth of a mile below the fort, a large armed prow was moored in the center of the river, mounting two long twelves, and a masked battery opposite to the right, the number of guns unknown. The reach which these forts command is a mile and a half. The land makes an elbow where these forts are, which obliged the Barracouta to haul athwart the river, to get her broadside to bear. The whole of this Landa river is very narrow, but near the forts not one-third additional to her length. Both sides of this river toward the fort appear tolerably clear from the mast-head, interspersed with pleasant hills inhabited by the Chinese. The tides are pretty regular, six hours and six hours, running a knot and a half per hour. This river is too serpentine and narrow to admit sailing up; sweeps, towing, or tiding it up are the only modes that can be resorted to. The great branch of Borneo river, before mentioned, when up it twenty miles, divides into two; the branch running north being called Tampasan river, the other still retaining the name of Borneo. The Tampasan branch leads to old Sambas; it is from hence they get their supplies of rice and provisions, by the two cuts above the town of Sambas, which reunites the Landa and Borneo streams. There are roads from the great branch leading to the town, fort, and palace. Since the Dutch abandoned Sambas, three sultans have reigned on this musnud (within fifty years, or thereabout). There are four Pangerans, Annam being the most daring of the whole. His naval force consists of the Portuguese ship of 400 tons, one brig, and eight or ten large fighting prows, beside his allies from Borneo Proper, with ten large prows. The population amounts to twelve thousand Dayers and Malays, and thirty thousand Chinese. Under the head mineralogy we have given a detailed account of the principal sources of its industry. Sambas produces, beside gold, ten piculs of birds'-nests annually (of an inferior quality), much ebony, rattans, wax, &c. The trade here is much the same as at Pontiana, and susceptible of a tenfold increase: it is every way superior to the latter for the capital of a large mart. The country is better cleared, and hence susceptible of more easy cultivation; the land more elevated and less swampy, consequently healthier; the river deeper and farther navigable; the population more dense, and, the land being clear of jungle, more capable of being increased. Beside, it is the vicinage of the most considerable gold-mines on all Borneo. The Sultan of Pontiana would make it his capital if desired; his apprehensions of the power of the Sambas princes lead him to give the preference to Pontiana. The town of Calaca, belonging to the Rajah of Borneo Proper, lies north of Tanjong Datu; it is the principal port of trade south of the capital, and the mart of the Sedang country. Here much grain is produced, one hundred piculs of black birds'-nests, two hundred piculs of wax, some gold, pepper, camphor, &c., but the tin-mines, before mentioned, are utterly neglected. There are several other towns upon each of the rivers along this coast; the principal ones are Salat, Bacalo, Pasir, and Baram. They produce nearly the same articles as the above, which are, however, sent on to the capital as fast as collected. It is here necessary to observe, that all the rocks and shoals laid down on this coast do not exist at all; such as Volcano Island, the Byhors, Krenpel, the whole Slykenburgh, five Comadas, &c. Having beat up this coast twice, and carefully surveyed the whole, I can declare a finer and clearer coast does not anywhere exist. The old chart, published by A. Dalrymple, is much more correct than the recent ones. The numbers of immense drifts and floating isles hereabout must have given birth to all these imaginary dangers. The town of Borneo Proper, the capital of the kingdom of the same name, lies in latitude 5° 7' north; it is situated fifteen miles up one of the finest rivers in the world, with three fathoms low water on the bar, and a rise and fall of fifteen feet. A correct plan of the river and town is published by Mr. Dalrymple. Here are mud docks for vessels of 500 or 600 tons. The town consists of about three thousand houses, built on stakes, in the middle of the river, with a population altogether of fifteen thousand souls, Chinese, Malays, Moruts, &c. The palace is slightly fortified; but the Rajah of Pontiana says, the Rajah of Borneo Proper is preparing the means of defence, apprehending the resentment of the English in vindicating the rights of their flag, so frequently insulted by them with impunity; however, as there is sufficient water for a line-of-battle ship to the city, nothing need be apprehended from them. The remains of a stone fort up the river are still seen, but the one on Pulo Laboan is destroyed. Both banks of the river are planted with pepper, which formerly produced sixty thousand piculs annually; these are now running to decay from want of commerce. The Chinese junks, for years past, have ceased touching here, from the numberless piratical depredations committed upon them; and the Portuguese from Macao have attempted to renew the trade from time to time, but at length, in 1808, their agent withdrew to Macao, a large ship having been cut off and the crew murdered the year preceding. They now have no other resource but piracy; and the produce, such as it is, finds its way in prows to Tringan, Sambas, Pontiana, Lingin, and Malacca. Very large quantities of the finest camphor in the world are procurable here; it comes down from the Morut country, by the great river; a great deal of wax, some gold, much birds'-nests of an inferior quality, any quantity of sago, cassia, clove-bark, pepper, betel-nut, rattans, camphor-oil, &c., tripan, tortoise-shell, &c. The hills hereabout are clear of jungle, and wear a beautiful appearance, and, without the aid of history, bear evident marks of a more extensive population and culture. There are plenty of black cattle, buffaloes, goats, fruits and vegetables of all kinds, abundance and variety of fish, turtle, &c. The articles best suited for this market are coarse China, white cangyans, brass plates, China crockery, brass wire, tea, sugar-candy, coarse China silks and satins, blue and white coarse guras and salampories, coarse ventipallam handkerchiefs, arcot chintzes, iron and steel, quallies, cooking utensils, and other articles suited to a Malay market--all coarse; no opium. The Borneo catty is two and a half lbs. The English have been very desirous of a port in the China seas for ages past, but have generally appeared to stumble on the most unhealthy and ill-adapted places possible, such as Balambangan, Pulo Condore, &c.; and even the principal object of Lord Macartney's embassy was the obtaining of a cession of this nature. But if a capital harbor, a navigable and majestic river, a productive country, a healthy site, population ready formed, and a commerce all sufficient to pay the expenses of an establishment (within one hundred miles of Balambangan) is required, the East India Company ought to have pitched upon Borneo Proper. It was once a most flourishing country, and a very short period under British auspices would render it the first mart in the East for China-Malayan commerce. There are large, populous towns of Moruts, and Orang Idan, who abhor the Malays, but who would be soon reconciled to a milder and less traitorous government. Kimanis lies in latitude 5° 8' north; this is the first port on this coast ceded to the English by the Sultan of Sulo. The town lies ten miles up the river, at the foot of some of the most beautiful hills I ever saw, and is inhabited by thirty-five thousand Orang Idan. The river is small, and almost choked up at the mouth. This province has the following sea-ports in it, viz., Kimanis, Benome, Papal, and Pangalat, each governed by Orang Kayas, which still continue to send their produce to Borneo Proper, consisting of ten piculs of birds'-nests annually, two hundred piculs of wax, two piculs of camphor, and cassia, sago, betel-nut, and pepper, as much as required; tripan, camphor-oil, and rice; with fruit, fish, and provisions, of sorts which are cheap and plentiful. The articles mentioned as fit for Borneo answer here, only their produce is had about fifty per cent cheaper. The province of Kiney Baulu has the following seaports:--Putatan, Mangatal, Innanam, Labatuan, Mangabong, Tawaran, Sulaman, Ambung, Abai, Tampasuk, and Padasan. The whole of this province is tremendously high. The stupendous mountain of Kiney is about fifteen miles from Tampasuk, which at present is the most considerable pirate-port in the Malay seas, and belongs to the Rajah of Borneo Proper. The pirates frequenting this place have committed such depredations hereabout as to have induced the English to call the north of Borneo Pirates' Point. These desperate banditti originally resided at Tawaran, but were compelled to leave it from the resentment of whole tribes of Orang Idan. The whole of this province is very fertile; it is the source of all the great rivers on the island, and is more populous with the aborigines of the country than perhaps the rest of the island put together. The gold mines of Tampasuk have been mentioned; there are also mines of rock-crystal. Tawaran and several other places abound in goats and cattle. Abai has a small harbor, and the whole of this coast is accurately laid down by Lieutenant James Burton, in the sloop Endeavor. There are produced in this province much wax, tortoise-shell, very fine camphor, sago, rattans, and a red birds'-nest (which comes from Mantanane isle to Pandasan). They send their produce to Borneo Proper. The pirates are commanded by Datus from Borneo Proper. The lake in the vicinity of Kiney Baulu is said to be delightful; it is many miles in circumference, well cultivated, populous, and productive. It is said to be very cold, from the extreme elevation, and the inhabitants are almost as fair as Europeans. There is a valuable coral-tree somewhere hereabout. The Bay of Maludu, on the north of Borneo, is thirty miles in length, and from four to six in breadth, with numberless rivers flowing into it. There is no danger on the right-hand shore going up, but what is seen; on the larboard shore considerable coral-reefs are met with. Laurie and Whittle's chart of it is tolerably correct. The principal towns are, Sungy Bassar, nearly at the head of the bay, and Bankaka, on the left; the former, under Sheriff Mahomed, sends its produce to Sulo; the latter, under Orang Kayas, trades with Borneo Proper. The British, when last at Balambangan, threw up a small redoubt on the Bankaka side, with a view to supplies of rice and provisions; and this part is tranquil and a good roadstead, being sheltered from the swell brought in by the sea-breeze. The rich and valuable fishery of copis or Ceylon oyster in this bay has been mentioned; it might be rendered of considerable value. The whole of the rivers for miles up abound in rattans; Mr. A. Dalrymple thinks four thousand tons might be easily cut down every year without exhausting it, and sent by junks to China. There are forests of beautiful pines of stately growth, well calculated for the largest masts, and in high esteem at China. There is no quarter of the world which abounds more in that species of the sea-turtle (called by the Malays pakayan) which yields the shell; any quantity may be had on all the shores and isles of this bay. The interior abounds in camphor, which can be had in any quantities; so vastly abundant is it, and so little does the Orang Idan know of the extreme value of this commodity, that a bamboo of camphor may be procured in exchange for a bamboo of salt. The petty towns are Sandeck, Bowengun, Patasan, Pone, and Milawi. It produces in one year two hundred piculs of wax, fifty piculs of tortoise-shell, ten piculs of best camphor, and as much inferior; ten piculs of birds'-nests, at ten dollars the catty; 1st camphor, twenty-five; rattans, one dollar per picul; tortoise-shell, one dollar the catty; wax, twenty the picul. Articles required are the same as at Borneo Proper. Rice, provisions, fish, and fruits are abundant and cheap; the sugar-cane also. The province of Paytan is the principal district for camphor of any in the world. Whole forests for miles everywhere meet the eye, and the produce from them is the finest that can be conceived, large and transparent as Chin-chew sugar-candy. The principal towns are Pitan, Kinarubatan, Kulepan, and the famous town of Sugut. The coast is so full of coral-reefs, and has been so very indifferently surveyed, that it is only frequented by prows; there is a road from Sugut to Bankaka in Maludu Bay. Much wax, tripan, sago, &c., is produced here. Labuk has the towns of Camburcan, Labuk, and Songsohi; its produce is somewhat similar to that of Paytan, with the addition of clove-bark and birds'-nests. Sandakan. This celebrated harbor has been already mentioned as one of the finest in the world. The towns within it are Towsam, Duyom, Lu, Bokean, Dom or Doung, Seagally-hood and Tong luly luku; all these are governed by Datus from Sulo, who have expressly settled here to collect the prodigious quantities of birds'-nests abounding in this district. They are procured here at ten dollars the catty; and sent to Sulo, with tripan, wax, &c. The Sulos are very jealous of any ships going in here, and will leave no attempt untried in cutting off a vessel going in, although an English port. In the province of Mangidora lies the great river Kinnabatingan, which is navigable a vast way up, with several towns of Orang Idan on its shores. The other towns are Salasany, Supabuscul, Tambesan, which forms also an elegant harbor, Laboan or Saboan, Tuncu, Salurong, Giong, and Maday, which has a gold-mine, before mentioned. The whole of this province, it is said, will produce above one hundred piculs of the finest birds'-nests, much black ditto, some camphor, tripan, honey, wax, dammer, Buru mats, fine spars; sago and pepper were formerly largely cultivated here. The pearl-banks of Tawi Tawi have been mentioned. Tirun. The sea-ports of this last mentioned and valuable province, ceded to the English by the Sulos, are chiefly inhabited by Buguese people. The towns are Sibuku, Sambakung, Leo or Ledong, Sikatak, Sabellar, Kuran or Barrow, Talysion Dumaung, Tapeandurian. The principal ports are Kuran and Sibuku; they produce a large quantity of very fine white birds'-nests, a quantity of black ditto, much dammer, sago, tripan, wax, rattans, camphor, honey, Buru mats, gold, &c. The people of Tapeandurian are represented as very ferocious, and the sea-coast hereabout requires surveying. The ports of Pasir and Coti originally belonged to the King of Benjarmasing; very fine birds'-nests are procured here at twenty dollars the catty; much gold, tripan, wax, &c. Were Borneo to be settled, I think the principal factory ought to be at Borneo Proper; the second at Sambas; the third at Benjarmasing; the fourth at Pasir; the fifth at Tabesan or Sandakan. In looking over the map of the world, it is a melancholy reflection to view so large a portion of the habitable globe as all Borneo abandoned to barbarism and desolation; that, with all her productive wealth and advantages of physical situation, her valuable and interesting shores should have been overlooked by all Europeans; that neither the Dutch nor the Portuguese, with centuries of uncontrolled power in these seas, should have shed a ray of civilization on shores bordering upon their principal settlements; that her ports and rivers, instead of affording a shelter to the extensive commerce of China, should at this enlightened period of the world hold out only terror and dismay to the mariner; and that all that she should have acquired from the deadly vicinage and withering grasp of Dutch power and dominion has been the art of more speedily destroying each other, and rendering themselves obnoxious to the rest of mankind. Now that her destinies are transferred to the enlightened heads and liberal hearts of Englishmen,--now that her fortunes are embarked under the administration of a wise and liberal government,--we may confidently hope that a happier order of things will, under the blessing of an all-ruling Providence, speedily restore these extensive shores to peace, to plenty, and to commerce; and we ardently trust that another age may not be suffered to pass away without exhibiting something consolatory to the statesman, the philosopher, and the philanthropist. No. V. _Extracts from the late Mr. Williamson's Journal._ In October, 1845, Mr. Brooke commissioned some of the European gentlemen of his party to make a tour of inspection through the outlying Dyak tribes dependent on Sarawak, for the purpose of ascertaining their condition and prospects, and taking steps for the redress of any grievances of which they might have to complain. A few extracts from the rough journal kept on that occasion by Mr. Williamson may not be uninteresting to the reader, as showing what a large measure of success had already attended Mr. Brooke's wise and earnest efforts to restore peace and plenty to the poor persecuted Dyaks; what incessant vigilance on his part was still requisite to check the inveterate propensity of the knavish Malays to plunder and oppress them; and with what well-directed activity he pursues his labors for the physical welfare and the moral regeneration of his subjects and neighbors. "_Wednesday, Oct. 8th._--At 11 A.M. arrived at Pankalum Bunting, where we found about thirty Dyaks in a small hut ready to welcome us, and carry our luggage up to the village. At one o'clock started for the Bakar village, about five miles from the landing place, at the foot of the Sadong hills. This tribe consists of one hundred families, occupying four villages. There are about twenty-five houses in Mungu Babi (_i. e._ Hog Hill), the village where we are at present, and five padi stores. It is very recently that the Dyaks have ventured to store their padi in houses. At 8 P.M. attended the feast given in our honor, where we saw the women dancing; they appeared very happy, and pleased to see us. "_9th._--This morning we had all the Orang Kayas of the four villages, who informed me they were very comfortable and happy. I told them the object of my mission, at which they all seemed pleased, and said that that if they were oppressed they would come to Sarawak and complain to the Tuan Besar, When I asked them about the Sadong Dyaks, they said I should hear all when I met them, as they will hide nothing from me. "The only thing these Dyaks complain of is, that Nakodah Mahomed told them he had the Tuan Besar's chop, and gave them to understand that the powder, muskets, &c., in his possession, belonged to the Tuan Besar; in consequence of which they carried these goods for Nakodah Mahomed without receiving any payment for their labor. I told them that in future they need not carry goods for any man coming from Sarawak, or elsewhere, without due payment in ready money; and that should traders at any time leave their goods in the Dyak houses, they need not be alarmed, but bring the goods to the Tuan Besar and tell him how they were left behind. They further told me that the Siringi wish to claim their siri cave, where they get their birds'-nests which is close to Kumpung, and has belonged to them as long as they can remember; that this cave is a whole day's journey from Siring--how, then, can it belong to the Siringi? I answered, that on my return the Tuan Besar would set the matter right, and give the cave to its proper owners. "_Same day._--Proceeded to Jinan, about eight miles distant. There are here fifteen houses, and the Dyaks are very comfortable, having plenty of grain, and being well off for sugar-cane, sweet potatoes, plantains, betel-nut, beside various other fruit-trees. The houses here, as at Mungu Babi, are very shabby. "_10th._--This morning met Orang Kaya Kusunan, who told me the Toup Dyaks were waiting half way to receive us. At 4 P.M. I had the Orang Kaya Tumangong of Toup, and the Orang Kaya of Kurran, Si Labi, Si Mabong, Daah, Bugu (Sadong tribes), and the Orang Kaya Pasunan, beside other Dyaks, the Bandar Cassim, with his Sadong Malays, and our own people, at the house where I was staying. I explained my mission to them, and made them understand that, at the Bandar's express wish, the Tuan Besar had sent me to them to ascertain their condition. The Bandar then told them it was his wish to institute the same laws and customs as at Sarawak; after which, I informed the Dyaks that there will be no more forcing of goods on them at exorbitant prices, and that for the future, should any one 'serra' them, they must complain to the Bandar, and subsequently lay their case before Mr. Brooke. The conference, I am glad to say, ended to every one's satisfaction. "At 8 P.M. the Orang Kaya Rih and two others of the same tribe complained to me of their grievances, and told me that Si Tore, a Sadong man, had forced 10 pieces of iron, weighing 15 catties, on them about two years and a half ago, and that he now demanded 100 pasus of padi for it. (This is serra with a vengeance: 100 pasus are equal to 2 1/2 tons weight!) They had paid 10 pasus; should they, they asked me, pay the rest? I told them I would settle the business at Bandar Cassim's village. "_11th._--The Dyaks gave us a feast last night; the women danced and the merriment was kept up till morning. At 11 started in boats with Bandar Cassim, and at 2 P.M. arrived at his village [34] called * * *, where every thing had been got ready for our reception; a house was well fitted with gay curtains and mats, and after a salute of three guns as we approached, we took up our residence and made ourselves very comfortable. At 7 in the evening we met all the respectable part of the community of this little Malay village. I told them what I was sent for, the Bandar as usual giving way to our wishes, and repeating that Sarawak and Sadong, and Sadong and Sarawak, were as one country. I told Si Tore, Sebi Gani, and Sirdeen, that they must make no further demands on the Rih Dyaks, and that neither they nor anybody else could serra the Dyaks any longer--not even the Bandar himself; for they must recollect that the Sadong Dyaks would take refuge in Sarawak if oppressed. "After the Bandar had left, the brother-in-law of the Orang Kaya of Sinkaru, together with the Orang Kaya of Si Nankau Kujang, and Orang Kaya Kurang, came to me. The former of these complained that Abang Tahar (the old Patingi's son-in-law), about two years ago, forced a small tatawak [35] and one brass dish on them, for which he demanded three Dyaks as slaves, whom he seized at the time and took away, and that now he demanded another Dyak boy. I replied they were on no account to comply, that they must complain to the Bandar; and if he took no notice of it, to go to Sarawak to the Tuan Besar. "The Orang Kaya likewise told me that formerly there were twenty-five families in his tribe, but now they were reduced to fifteen, the rest having been seized and sold into slavery! (Here follow other complaints. The day's journal concludes thus:)--The Sinkaru Dyaks have not yet returned to their former Tumbawong, [36] but are scattered about in the jungle and very poorly off. I told them to return to their former place of residence, and to collect the tribes there. "_Sunday, 12th._--Orang Kaya Si Rubin and Orang Kaya Signa Mantay, of Rubin, likewise came to me to say that they were scattered, some at * * * some at Bedope, and some at Rubin, and all badly off for grain. When collected, they have about thirty families; formerly they had about fifty. Those missing had mostly been seized and made slaves. At 11h 30m we started for * * * (part of Rubin tribe), where we arrived about half-past two. We found one house with five families in it, and a Pangah [37] attached. Pa Rigan, the * * * of this tribe, told me that Abang Tahar, Abang Ally, Abang Bakar, &c. &c. (all of Gadong, under Patingi Müel), demand from the Dyaks old serras, which have been paid long ago. Dangon, a Sirkaru Dyak, told me that Abang Tahar, a short time since, demanded from his tribe a Dyak boy, and four Dyak boys from the En Singi Dyaks. Bandar Cassim put a stop to these demands at the time; but he has revived them since. The Malays of Sadong, whenever they go among the Dyaks, seize their fowls, eggs, rice, cocoa-nuts, and all sorts of property. The Bandar tells me he never permits these people to go among the Dyaks, but that they do it by stealth over land, and that the Tuan Besar must do something to prevent them from oppressing and frightening the Dyaks. (Here follow other complaints against the Gadong people, after which the journal continues.) "_13th._--Girang, a Bedope Dyak of the Rubin tribe, told me how very much he is bullied and troubled by the Gadong people, who are constantly threatening to attack him. I advised him to collect the tribe at Rubin, their old Tumbawong. At 7 started back for the Bandar's village, where we arrived at 10 o'clock. After a bath and breakfast, the Bandar's mother came to me with a present of two sarongs, one for the Tuan Besar and one for myself, and begged that I would urge the Tuan Besar to take care of the Bandar as if he were his own son, and not to cast him off. I told her that Mr. Brooke would support the Bandar as long as he conducted himself properly. The Orang Kaya Baga, Orang Kaya Sinching of Milikin, * * * of En Tayen, Orang Kaya Laja of Rahmone, Orang Kaya Rinjou of Sirkaru, Orang Kaya Mior Muntah, Pangara Lilli of Bunan, Orang Kaya Nijou of Mapuh, Orang Kaya Ganggong of En Kelas, and Pangara Achong of En Singi, all met me. I told them the object of my mission in presence of the Bandar and several other Malays, and they were highly delighted. They asked me to allow the Bandar to govern them, as they are much troubled by the Gadong people. Abang Tahar lately demanded four Dyak boys of Pangara Achong, and two from the Orang Kaya of Sirkaru; beside which, the Sadong people seize their property whenever they go among them. They are very poorly off for grain. They asked me for a letter which should prevent people from annoying them. I told them I should represent the matter to the Tuan Besar, and that no doubt he will give his chop to each tribe. They all speak well of Bandar Cassim; but his people are bad, and those at Gadong [38] are worse. "_14th._--At 6h 30m started up the river Kayan toward Tumma, having left Talip with nineteen men to return to Sarawak by way of Samarahan. At 8 we stopped at Mang-garut, where the Dyaks presented us with a deer they had caught. These Dyaks are badly off for grain, and it is the same tribe Bandar Cassim attacked in the Goa Siri (siri cave) some few years ago. Orang Kaya Pa Jampat told me, that on that occasion the Bandar seized eight Dyaks and took them with him. [39] The river here begins to be narrow and shallow, with pebbly banks, and clear water. At noon we stopped at Muara Rubin, where we intended to stay a day to inquire for coal, which was stated to have been found in this neighborhood; but as nobody knew the whereabout, and as the Hindoo remains (said to consist of one stone in the shape of a Malay hat) were five hours out of our way, we continued our route till evening, having parted company with the Bandar at Muara Rubin, as I well knew the Tumma Dyaks would be afraid of his approach. "_15th._--At daylight started toward Tumma, and at 9 stopped below Muora Sangan, where we breakfasted, after which we pushed up again, and at 1 arrived at Si Sijack, where the Tumma are. Orang Kaya Pa Muany, the chief, told me they were very much bullied, as a Sarawak man, named Pakar, and Marrat, the father-in-law of Bandar Mulana of Sarawak, forced upon them a quantity of goods in the name of the Tuan Besar and the Bandar Mulana. (Here follows a list of things, such as gongs, tatawaks, jackets, handkerchiefs, and the like, with the most exorbitant prices affixed to them. The rice and padi had not, however, been paid for.) There are three villages of this tribe; two about 250 yards apart; one of which, containing about ten families, is ruled by the Orang Kaya Pa Muany, and the other, with about thirty families, by the Orang Kaya Mayo and the Orang Kaya Pa Balet. In the other village, about three reaches above, is the Orang Kaya Pa Magong, with ten families. They said they were very comfortable under the Patingi Ali (father of the present Bandar Mulana), but that since Bandar Mulana has succeeded, they have been oppressed. They told me they had run away from Sadong because they heard the Tuan Besar was a just and good rajah, and that all his Dyaks were comfortable, but now they are oppressed. Pakar told them that if they did not take his tatawaks they must not remain here, but run away! "There are forty families of the Si Nangkan Soyar tribe, and thirteen families of the Tibader tribe. The Orang Kayas told me that, had I not arrived, the rice in payment of the goods forced on them would have been taken down, as Pakar was here hurrying them to carry it to Sanar; but that when he heard of my coming he could not be persuaded to wait and meet me. The following goods have just been returned by the Gregan Dyaks (here follows a long list of goods and prices). Pangara Achong of the En Singi tribe told me that he has one family of his tribe at Gregan, and he wanted them to return with him. I asked the Pangara of Gregan whether this family wished to return, but he did not know. I then told them no one could force them, but that they might do just as they pleased. The Orang Kaya Pa Jampat goes down with me to Kuching to lay before the Tuan Besar a claim made upon him by the Malay Pangeran of Samarahan. Beside which, I take down the Orang Kaya and Pangara of Tumma, Si Markan Singan and Tebadu, together with all the goods forced on them, that the case may be judged by the Tuan Besar. "Bandar Cassim demands a debt of the Orang Kaya Pa Muany of Tumma; he originally sold them (_i. e._ forced on them, of course) a gong for 150 pasus of padi, 100 of which was paid; and the question is, whether they were to pay the rest. This was four years ago. I left it for the Tuan Besar's decision." (Here follows a list of goods forced on the Tebadu Dyaks.) [40] THE END. HARPER'S NEW MISCELLANY OF POPULAR STERLING LITERATURE. "Books that have an _aim_ and _meaning_ in them." Now in course of publication, a new and attractive library of sterling books, elegantly printed in duodecimo, on fine paper, and _bound in extra muslin gilt, fitted for permanent preservation_. PRICE FIFTY CENTS A VOLUME. _The cheapest Popular Series of Works yet Published._ I., II. Elements of Morality and Polity. 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This biography possesses an interest for all who feel interested in the great men of the earth. It is not only remarkably well written, but has a completeness about it we have never found before in any life of Mozart.--_Louisville Journal_. There is such a charm in this narrative, that the lovers of good biography can not hear of it too soon. We can not conceive a more fascinating story of genius. To a style which would alone have sufficed to the production of an interesting and striking narrative, Mr. Holmes unites a depth of knowledge and musical appreciation very rare and remarkable. We thank him cordially for a most pleasing addition to our standard biographical literature.--_Examiner_. The book is one of extraordinary interest, not merely to the lovers of music and appreciators of the great composer, but to the general reader, as a vivid picture of the life of a man of genius, who encountered all the difficulties, trials, and sufferings usually the lot of genius when it comes before a world incapable of appreciating it, and indifferent to its welfare. The domestic portions of the book are invaluable; his relations to his father and his wife are very beautiful. The work is admirably executed, as well in the scientific as anecdotical passages, and is worthy of the widest sale.--_News_. III. _The Philosophy of Mystery._ BY WALTER COOPER DENDY. 12mo, Muslin, extra gilt, 50 cents. This is a learned and elaborate work, in which the writer goes into the investigation of all the phenomena of mind in the erratic operations and phantasies of ghost seeing and spectral hallucinations, and aims to give the true philosophy of all such delusions. He is a medical man of considerable eminence, and has spared no pains in his researches, giving a great number of facts and cases to illustrate his philosophy. The volume will be much sought for, as it is really a desideratum in the world of literature. We know of no work on this subject which lays the same just claim to public attention, or the study of the philosopher.--_Christian Advocate and Journal._ The volume before us is both instructive and amusing, and at this particular time, when the extremes of superstition and philosophy have shaken hands, it will be likely to effect an inconceivable amount of good, if properly studied. It is one of the most remarkable productions of the day, and must create an extraordinary degree of interest in the public mind.--_Merchant's Magazine._ It belongs to that class of writings which you can take up and put down at pleasure, and which may be subjected to repeated readings. The work is pleasant, however, in spite of this--pleasant because of its facts, its numerous details of mystery, its vast collection of anecdote, its developments of _diablerie_, its tidings from the spiritual world, and the many cases which it brings together of the curious and the wonderful in nature and art, which former ages, and ignorance and superstition, have concluded to consider supernatural. Where science and modern speculation furnish the solution to the mystery, Mr. Dendy couples it with the statements, and the book is thus equally valuable and amusing.--_Charleston Transcript_. Here lies a remarkable work; beautiful in its style, and wondrous in its matter. The work is strictly philosophical in its tendency, yet more amusing than a novel.--_True American_. This is a book for the lovers of marvels and of mysteries. It contains an immense collection of anecdotes of spectral apparitions, of illusions of vision or of hearing, of striking phenomena exhibited in dreams, in insanity, in trance, or in magnetism, and furnishes many very valuable hints to aid in the solution of these mysteries, by which so many have been bewildered or affrighted. It is written in a style of great ease and elegance, and can not fail to find a very wide circle of welcoming readers.--_Albion_. This unique and remarkable book has just been placed on our table; we know its reputation of old; it is an admirable discourse on the subject of supernaturalisms, such as mental illusions, dreams, ghosts, mesmeric phenomena, &c. If any one will but read the first half dozen pages, we will vouch for it he will not neglect the rest of the volume: it is one of the best written books on one of the most curious range of topics that could engage the pen of a writer, or the attention of a reader. It is, in fact, one of the most curious volumes ever perused, upon a series of the most singular subjects, and, in this new and neat form, it will command a vast number of readers.--_Sunday Times._ "The Philosophy of Mystery" is an exceedingly able work; far better, we think, than the "Natural Magic" of Brewster, a book of identical purpose, carried out in a totally different way. The "Natural Magic" is the more ratiocinative, Mr. Dendy's essay the more poetical, the more imaginative, and to us the more interesting.--_National Press._ IV. _The Life of Mozart:_ INCLUDING HIS CORRESPONDENCE. BY EDWARD HOLMES, AUTHOR OF "A RAMBLE AMONG THE MUSICIANS OF GERMANY," &c. 12mo, Muslin, extra gilt, 50 cents. It is written in a beautiful, narrative style, and can not but be every where acceptable. To all who appreciate the extraordinary genius of Mozart, the delicate structure of his mind, the incidents of his life, and his romantic death, this volume will indeed be a treasure.--_Boston Gazette._ It contains, in addition to much of his interesting correspondence, and other papers, a detailed account of his life, adventures, and rise as an artist, and a discriminating sketch of his character, the peculiarities of which are happily illustrated by anecdotes. Many things of him, unknown even to his admirers, are here given to the world, and his biographer, fully appreciating the artist, has yet, not like a flatterer, but with true independence, spoken candidly of the faults of the man.--_Merchant's Magazine._ Of this far-famed life of Mozart it is scarcely necessary for us to say a word; the foreign reviews have been so unanimous in their encomiums, that we suppose few will be found insensible to the strong inducement of its perusal, especially as the work may be obtained at the trifling cost of half a dollar, and in so beautiful a guise. We have looked into the biography but slightly, yet find it redolent with interest, and fully sustaining the high estimate placed upon the work by the _London Athenæum_ and _Blackwood_. If the Harpers continue to fill their new library with sterling works like the present, it will present the most truly valuable series, yet the cheapest, ever attempted in any age or country.--_Evening Gazette._ The only authentic biography of the great composer that is extant in the English language, and the events of his career are replete with useful admonitions and warning to the sons of genius, and they whisper to those whose present claims are not allowed that there is a future full of promise. In his life Mozart was neglected and impoverished, and he went to his grave with more than the bitterness of death crowding on his thoughts, but fame has taken possession of his memory, and among those who move as gods in musical art, few are equal to him, none are superior. This biography possesses an interest for all who feel interested in the great men of the earth. It is not only remarkably well written, but has a completeness about it we have never found before in any life of Mozart.--_Louisville Journal._ There is such a charm in this narrative, that the lovers of good biography can not hear of it too soon. We can not conceive a more fascinating story of genius. To a style which would alone have sufficed to the production of an interesting and striking narrative, Mr. Holmes unites a depth of knowledge and musical appreciation very rare and remarkable. We thank him cordially for a most pleasing addition to our standard biographical literature.--_Examiner._ The book is one of extraordinary interest, not merely to the lovers of music and appreciation of the great composer, but to the general reader, as a vivid picture of the life of a man of genius, who encountered all the difficulties, trials, and sufferings usually the lot of genius when it comes before a world incapable of appreciating it, and indifferent to its welfare. The domestic portions of the book are invaluable; his relations to his father and his wife are very beautiful. The work is admirably executed, as well in the scientific as anecdotical passages, and is worthy of the widest sale.--_News_ V. _The Practical Astronomer:_ COMPRISING ILLUSTRATIONS OF LIGHT AND COLORS; PRACTICAL DESCRIPTIONS OF ALL KINDS OF TELESCOPES, &C., WITH DESCRIPTIVE ACCOUNTS OF THE EARL OF ROSSE'S LARGE TELESCOPES, AND OTHER TOPICS CONNECTED WITH ASTRONOMY. BY THOMAS DICK, LL.D., AUTHOR OF THE "CHRISTIAN PHILOSOPHER," "CELESTIAL SCENERY," "THE SIDEREAL HEAVENS," &c. 100 Engravings. 12mo, Muslin, extra gilt, 50 cents. The _name_ of the distinguished author of this work is a sufficient passport to public favor and a sure guarantee to its sterling value, and those who have read Dr. Dick's former works will need no recommendation of this book by us. He is not only an original and profound observer of nature, but truly a most excellent _Christian_ philosopher, whose powers of intellect and expanded views of the character of the great Architect of the universe are so eminently calculated to direct the mind not alone to the grandeur, the magnificence, and sublimity of the laws and principles of the material world, but to look through nature up to "Nature's God." It is truly a valuable work.--_Farmer and Mechanic._ The merits of this work are of the highest order; Dick is one of the profoundest and purest of modern philosophers.--_Western Continent._ Here is the ninth volume presented by this gifted author to the public; the aim of all of which has been to simplify sciences which before have been too often considered as every way _above_, and therefore unworthy of the attention of ordinary readers. It is specially addressed to private students and the higher schools, and comprises a large amount of new and valuable matter connected with astronomy, and pointing out ways in which the more humble student can in the best way improve the advantages placed in his way.--_Auburn Journal._ Let not the inquisitive fear that the intricacies of science or the technicalities of language will obstruct the pleasure they will derive from the study of this book; for the clearness of the author's style, and the elucidation of the one hundred engravings, render it within the scope and comprehension of every intelligent student.--_Industrial Record._ The copious use of engravings and of pictorial illustrations, together with the plain, popular explanations, render this book a truly _practical_ work. Dr. Dick is not only thoroughly scientific, but he knows well how to render his acquisitions available to the great body of common readers, by his accurate method and clear descriptions.--_Watchman._ We have always been an admirer of the writings of this gentleman, and popularity keeps on his side wherever he is known. He is a profound thinker and a devout Christian. His works all tend to illustrate the simple as well as the sublimest principles of philosophy, and while they instruct, can not fail to enlighten. The present volume comprises illustrations of light and colors, practical descriptions of all kinds of telescopes, the use of the equatorial-transit, circular, and other astronomical instruments, and other topics connected with astronomy. It is illustrated by 100 engravings, and will be found a most valuable book for all classes, but particularly as a work of instruction for youth.--_Illustrated Magazine._ VI., VII. _The Life of Paul Jones._ BY ALEXANDER SLIDELL MACKENZIE, U. S. N. 2 vols. 12mo, Portrait, Muslin, extra gilt, $1 00. The history of the naval adventures and victories of Paul Jones forms one of the most romantic chapters in the record of great deeds, and can not fail to attract general and ardent attention, since it relates to the very beginning of the American navy.--_Commercial Advertiser._ The various biographies of Paul Jones now extant have been carefully searched by Mr. Mackenzie; as also the log books of Jones's various cruizes and papers in possession of his heirs, with a view to procure a full and authentic collection of facts and incidents for the present work. Thus industriously compiled and stored, and that by an able hand, this edition must necessarily, as it does, possess considerable merit.--_Philadelphia Chronicle._ Paul Jones will always be regarded as one of the most daring and gallant heroes who ever made the ocean the theater of their exploits. Such a name can never be forgotten by Americans, nor can the services which he rendered to the cause of American liberty, in its infant struggles, ever pass into oblivion. No better biographer for such a character could have been found than Captain Mackenzie. Familiar with all the details of seamanship, possessing the same bold patriotism which made the career of his hero so illustrious, and being an accomplished and vigorous writer, he has given us a most admirable biography.--_Courier and Enquirer._ This is a capital American biography, of an American naval hero, scarcely less renowned and no less gallant and gifted with an heroic spirit than Nelson, the great British admiral. There is scarcely a more stirring life in the whole compass of literature than that of Jones; and the important part he played in giving force and almost life itself to the American navy, then in its earliest infancy, renders his history peculiarly interesting and attractive. No man certainly ever performed more gallant exploits, and few have rendered more important service to the cause of freedom than he. Many of his actions for bravery, skill, and the performance of almost incredible deeds, by apparently the most inadequate means, are scarcely rivalled by any thing in the records of naval history. His life should be familiar to American readers; and in the elegant, forcible, and graphic style of Commander Mackenzie it can not fail to be universally read.--_True Sun._ We are glad to see the life of this celebrated man by one competent to write it. His adventures border so much on the marvelous that one is glad to be sure of reading only what is authentic, and that written in a style and language becoming the subject. There is a good moral lesson conveyed in this life of Paul Jones.--_Christian Advocate and Journal._ The name and achievements of Paul Jones are indissolubly connected with American history; and his renowned deeds, which made him the terror of the coast of Britain, are among the most romantic in the annals of naval warfare, and impart to this work the highest interest. This is the most complete and authentic biography of Commodore Jones ever published, as all accessible materials have been collected, and are used by Commander Mackenzie with the ability and tact which he possesses as an accomplished scholar and an officer, accomplishments which peculiarly qualify him to write naval biography. A fine portrait of this true naval hero will be found in the first volume.--_Baltimore American._ We have read it with some care, and compared it with other biographies, and think it greatly superior to any yet published. It contains a full narrative of all the important events in Jones's eventful career, and yet is less voluminous than previous works.--_Highland Courier._ VIII. The Ascent of Mount Ararat, (ACHIEVED FOR THE FIRST TIME). BY DR. FRIEDRICH PARROT. TRANSLATED BY W. D. COOLEY. 12mo, Map and Wood-cuts, Muslin, extra gilt, 50 cents. This is a most interesting book, both in its description of the country and inhabitants of Central Asia, and in its connection with the remarkable event of our world--_the Flood_. Mount Ararat, which was ascended by M. Parrot, must ever possess to the Biblical reader most intense interest, as the resting place of the ark after the universal deluge.--_Pittsburgh Chronicle._ A work destined, from the intrinsic interest of the subject, and the fullness of detail which is spread before the reader, to a very wide circulation. The idea of ascending Mount Ararat seems to have risen with the traveler to a passion; previous travelers had never accomplished it; the natives of the region looked upon it as impossible; their superstition regarded the inaccessible summit as the mysterious resting place of the ark to this day. How Dr. Parrot approached the region, what adventures he met with by the way, what manners and customs he witnessed, how he twice essayed to reach the sacred peak and turned back, and how on a third attempt he accomplished the feat through difficulties the recital of which has led scientific men still to doubt if the ascent were really performed--may all be read in this compact volume, illustrated by maps and engravings, with every aid to the reader's comprehension.--_News._ Hardly a subject could have been selected more stirring in its character than "A Journey to Ararat." Held in equal veneration by Jew, Christian, and Mohammedan, and regarded with superstitious feelings even by the pagan, that mountain has always enjoyed a degree of celebrity denied to any other. Sinai, and Horeb, and Tabor may have excited holier musings; but Ararat "the mysterious"--Ararat, which human foot had not trod after the restorer of our race, and which, in the popular opinion, no human foot would be permitted to tread till the consummation of all things--Ararat the holy, which winged cherubim protected against the sacrilegious approach of mortals, and which patriarchs only were permitted to revisit, appeared in many respects an object of curiosity as unique as it was exciting.--_London Athenæum._ It is a highly entertaining work, embodying much historical, geographical, and scientific information, and conveying a knowledge of the character, habits, and manners of the people among whom the author traveled. The ascent of Mount Ararat is so very difficult that many persons have doubted whether the feat was accomplished by Dr. Parrot, but his acknowledged integrity ought to place his claims in this respect above suspicion. The lovers of bold adventure will find in this volume much to gratify their peculiar taste, and the general reader can hardly fail to be pleased with it.--_New York Tribune._ This volume has claims upon the public, as a scientific and truly valuable work, which have been possessed by few others. It is, in fact, the condensed narrative of an exploring expedition sent out by the Russian government into the region about Mount Ararat, a region which possesses more interest for scientific men, perhaps, than any other in the world which has been so little explored.--_New York Courier._ It reads more like the travels of Von Humboldt than any book we have lately read. The writer is a man of science and observation, and the book we recommend to the public.--_Lowell Courier._ IX. Remarkable Criminal Trials. TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF FEUERBACH, BY LADY DUFF GORDON. 12mo, Muslin, extra gilt, 50 cents. A book of thrilling interest; one that can not fail to be read with avidity.--_New York Courier._ This work abounds with singular cases of criminal jurisprudence in Bavaria, of the most astounding and thrilling interest, the details of which are of remarkable character, and differ essentially from those hitherto familiar to the public in England or this country. They are fully equal, in their absorbing interest, to any thing in the famous "Causes Celebres" of France; and, perhaps, for their unique and striking features, are unexcelled by any delineations of crime elsewhere on record.--_True Sun._ Public attention was first drawn to this work by an able and interesting article in the Edinburgh Review. They are all narratives of marvelous interest--more strange and wonderful, many of them, than any work of fiction, and giving to the reader a clear view of the nature and peculiarities of the criminal jurisprudence of Germany.--_N. Y. Commercial Advertiser._ Its illustration of the many curious customs of German criminal jurisprudence will be sufficiently startling to the English reader; but, apart from this, the extraordinary subtle discrimination thrown into the narrative of each particular crime gives to the volume, as a mere story book, the intellectual interest, the passion, and all the rich and various coloring of a philosophical romance. The translation is excellent, and a judicious compression of the original has added much to the effect.--_London Examiner._ The narratives abound with thrilling interest, setting forth the constant recurrence of crime, detection, and punishment, in which the attention of the reader is roused by the novelty of the scene, and rewarded by the light thrown upon the darkest portion of human nature.--_New Bedford Mercury._ This work has been so highly extolled by the Edinburgh Foreign Quarterly and other reviews, that not much need be said of its character and claims to public notice. It presents some of the most remarkable stories of horrible crimes and their exposure we have ever met, and gives a very clear and vivid conception of the peculiarities of German criminal jurisprudence. It is a book which will be universally read, as one of the most thrilling and absorbing interest. The translator has given in the preface a very good account of the criminal law of Germany, and has selected only those portions of the original work which will have the greatest value and interest.--_Mirror._ This book is of an entirely different character from works of a similar title that have hitherto appeared. It contains an account of fourteen trials for murder in Germany, and the object of it is to show the peculiar mode of trial instituted by the Bavarian code.--_Evening Gazette._ The records of crime are not usually a profitable kind of reading. The contagion of the example is generally greater than the warning of the fate of the criminal; and many a villain has been made by the very means taken to keep him from crime. But as much depends on the manner of the narrative, and as it is possible to extract some of the gravest lessons of virtue and wisdom from the misdeeds of others, it gives us pleasure to state that the present work is unexceptionable in this respect, while the cases possess extraordinary interest, and are replete with instruction. They afford much insight of human motives, and teach impressive lessons of the retributive justice of Providence, and the misery and evil of sin.--_Biblical Repository_. X., XI. Journal of Researches INTO THE NATURAL HISTORY AND GEOLOGY OF THE COUNTRIES VISITED DURING THE VOYAGE OF H. M. S. BEAGLE ROUND THE WORLD. BY CHARLES DARWIN, M.A., F.R.S. 2 vols. 12mo, Muslin, extra gilt, $1 00. This is another most valuable contribution to the cause of _popular education_, issued in Harper's New Miscellany; a series that bids fair to surpass even their Family Library in the sterling excellence and popularity of the works which it renders accessible to all classes of the community. The work contains, in a condensed and popularized form, the results of the British Exploring Expedition, which Mr. Darwin accompanied at the special instance of the lords of the Admiralty. The voyage consumed several years, and was performed at a very heavy expense on the part of the British government. Yet here we have its most important results, divested of all scientific technicalities, and presented in a form at once attractive and accurate. The work is entitled to secure a very wide circulation. It contains an immense amount of information concerning the natural history of the whole world, and is superior, in point of interest and value, to any similar work ever published.--_New York True Sun._ A work very neatly issued, and has the interest of a leading subject well developed, the unfailing secret of producing a book of character. In the present state of the world, when new countries are opening every day to the great conqueror, Commerce, such publications are of unusual importance. Perhaps no information, just now, can be of more consequence to us than that which puts us in possession of the movements of English discovery.--_News._ This is a most valuable and a most interesting work; one which combines true scientific worth with the graces of style suited to render it popular, better than almost any similar work which has recently come under our notice. The voyage of the Beagle was, in truth, a scientific exploring expedition; and Mr. Darwin accompanied it at the special request of the lords of the Admiralty. Its results have been published in several very elaborate, extensive, and costly volumes in England; but as these were entirely beyond the reach of the great mass of the reading public, Mr. Darwin prepared these volumes, in which all the important results of the expedition are fully, clearly, and distinctly presented, interwoven with a most entertaining narrative of personal incident and adventure.--_N. Y. Courier._ This is a work of remarkable interest and value. The author, in circumnavigating the world, under commission of the British government, for scientific and exploring purposes, visited nearly every country on the globe, and preserved in this brief, simple, but beautiful narrative all the singular facts of a scientific, social, or geographical nature which are of general interest. The amount of information condensed in these volumes is incredible; and the skill with which the useful and interesting is selected from that which is unimportant or well known is admirable. We admire the style, the straightforward sincerity of the writer, the apparent candor, and the erudite research which he uniformly exhibits. Without one quarter of the bulk or pretension of our famous exploring expedition, the present work is hardly inferior to it in value and interest. This series is gaining a fine character, of which we hope the publishers will be jealous.--_New York Evangelist._ HARPER'S FAMILY LIBRARY. _Books that you may hold readily in your hand are the most useful, after all._--Dr. Johnson. The above-named series, extending to 173 volumes, comprises a rich and varied collection of works in the several departments of literature, forming a most valuable circle of useful, instructive, and entertaining knowledge, adapted for popular use. The utmost care has been taken, not only to exclude whatever can have an injurious influence on the mind, but to embrace every thing calculated to strengthen the best and most salutary impressions. No family ought to be without this library, as it furnishes the readiest resources for that education which ought to accompany or succeed that of the boarding-school or the academy, and is infinitely more conducive than either to the cultivation of the intellect.--_Monthly Review._ CONTENTS OF THE SERIES. 1, 2, 3.--MILMAN'S HISTORY OF THE JEWS. $1 20. 4, 5.--HISTORY OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE. 90 cents. 6.--SOUTHEY'S LIFE OF LORD NELSON. 45 cents. 7.--LIFE OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT. 45 cents. 8, 74.--NATURAL HISTORY OF INSECTS. 90 cents. 9.--GALT'S LIFE OF LORD BYRON. Portrait, 40 cents. 10.--BUSH'S LIFE OF MOHAMMED. Engravings, 45 cents. 11.--SCOTT'S LETTERS ON DEMONOLOGY. 40 cents. 12, 13.--GLEIG'S HISTORY OF THE BIBLE. 80 cents. 14.--DISCOVERY IN THE POLAR REGIONS. 45 cents. 15.--CROLY'S LIFE OF GEORGE IV. 45 cents. 16.--DISCOVERY AND ADVENTURE IN AFRICA. 45 cts. 17, 18, 19, 66, 67.--CUNNINGHAM'S LIVES OF EMINENT PAINTERS AND SCULPTORS. Portraits, $2 10. 20.--JAMES'S CHIVALRY AND THE CRUSADES. 45 cts. 21, 22.--LIFE OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS. 85 cents. 23.--ANCIENT AND MODERN EGYPT. 45 cents. 24.--FLETCHER'S HISTORY OF POLAND. 45 cents. 25.--SMITH'S FESTIVALS, GAMES, AND AMUSEMENTS, ANCIENT AND MODERN. 45 cents. 26.--BREWSTER'S LIFE OF SIR ISAAC NEWTON. 45 cts. 27.--RUSSELL'S PALESTINE. 45 cents. 28.--MEMES'S MEMOIRS OF JOSEPHINE. 45 cents. 29.--COURT AND CAMP OF BONAPARTE. 45 cents. 30.--LIVES AND VOYAGES OF DRAKE, CAVENDISH, AND DAMPIER, Account of the Bucaniers, &c. 45 cents. 31.--BARROW'S DESCRIPTION OF PITCAIRN'S ISLAND, &c. 45 cents. 32, 72, 84.--SACRED HISTORY OF THE WORLD. $1 35. 33, 34.--JAMESON'S FEMALE SOVEREIGNS. 80 cents. 35, 36.--LANDERS' TRAVELS IN AFRICA. 90 cents. 37.--ESSAY ON THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS. 45 cts. 38, 39, 40.--LIVES OF CELEBRATED TRAVELLERS. $1 25. 41, 42.--LIFE OF FREDERIC THE GREAT. 90 cents. 43, 44.--SKETCHES FROM VENETIAN HISTORY. 90 cts. 45, 46.--THATCHER'S INDIAN BIOGRAPHY. 90 cents. 47, 48, 49.--MURRAY'S BRITISH INDIA. $1 35. 50.--BREWSTER'S NATURAL MAGIC. 45 cents. 51, 52.--TAYLOR'S HISTORY OF IRELAND. 90 cents. 53.--DISCOVERY IN NORTH AMERICA. 45 cents. 54.--HUMBOLDT'S TRAVELS. 45 cents. 55, 56.--EULER'S NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 90 cents. 57.--POPULAR GUIDE TO THE OBSERVATION OF NATURE. 45 cents. 58.--ABERCROMBIE'S MORAL FEELINGS. 40 cents. 59.--DICK ON IMPROVEMENT OF SOCIETY. 45 cents. 60.--JAMES'S HISTORY OF CHARLEMAGNE. 45 cents. 61.--RUSSELL'S NUBIA AND ABYSSINIA. 45 cents. 62, 63.--RUSSELL'S OLIVER CROMWELL. 90 cents. 64.--MONTGOMERY'S LECTURES ON POETRY. 45 cts. 65.--BARROW'S LIFE OF PETER THE GREAT. 45 cents. FOR FAMILY READING. X. RECOLLECTIONS OF A HOUSEKEEPER. BY MRS. C. GILMAN.--18mo, muslin gilt, 45 cents. XI. THE MAYFLOWER; OR, SKETCHES OF SCENES AND INCIDENTS AMONG THE DESCENDANTS OF THE PILGRIMS. BY MRS. HARRIET B. STOWE.--18mo, muslin gilt, 45 cents. A series of beautiful and deeply interesting tales, remarkable for a rigorous yet disciplined imagination, a lively and pure style, and their high moral tone. They are books which will interest mature readers as well as children and youth. As an author she will take her place among that fine and elevated class to which Miss Sedgwick and Mrs. Child belong; authors whose writings unite with the graces of composition a deep sympathy with all that is human, and a noble philanthropy.--_Biblical Repository._ XII. CONQUEST AND SELF-CONQUEST; OR, WHICH MAKES THE HERO? 18mo, muslin gilt, 37 1/2 cents. An admirable volume; admirable in style, in sentiment, and in tendency.--_Courier and Enquirer._ XIII. THE COUSINS. A TALE OF EARLY LIFE. By the Author of "Conquest and Self-Conquest."--18mo, 37 1/2 cents. We have read this volume with unmingled satisfaction. It is replete with instruction, not only for the young, but for all who are concerned to know and judge their motives of life. We thank the author for her nice and interesting discriminations between the motives of conduct. Indeed, we do not know of any works of this description from the American press which are entitled to a more just popularity than those which have proceeded from the pen of this writer. They place her beside the Edgeworths, and the Barbaulds, and the Opies, who have so long delighted and instructed our children and us.--_New-York Observer._ XIV. PRAISE AND PRINCIPLE; OR, FOR WHAT SHALL I LIVE? By the Author of "Conquest and Self-Conquest."--18mo, 37 1/2 cents. A book most worthy to be put into the hands of youth engaged in their educational course, and can not but inspire the love of truth and goodness for their own sakes.--_Biblical Repository._ This little work is designed to inculcate upon the minds of youth the importance of a steadfast adherence to _principle_ in the concerns of life; and among "children of a larger growth" its perusal may afford both pleasure and improvement.--_Bedford Mercury._ 107, 108.--PARRY'S THREE VOYAGES. 90 cents. 109, 110.--LIFE OF DR. JOHNSON. 90 cents. 111.--BRYANT'S AMERICAN POETS. 45 cents. 112, 113.--HALLECK'S BRITISH POETS. 90 cents. 114, 115, 116, 117, 118.--KEIGHTLEY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. $2 25. 119, 120.--HALE'S UNITED STATES. 90 cents. 121, 122.--IRVING'S LIFE OF GOLDSMITH. 90 cents. 123, 124.--DISTINGUISHED MEN OF MODERN TIMES. Portraits, 90 cents. 125.--LIFE OF DE WITT CLINTON. 45 cents. 126, 127.--LIFE OF COMMODORE OLIVER H. PERRY. Portrait, 90 cents. 128.--LIFE AND TRAVELS OF BRUCE. 45 cents. 129.--LIVES OF JAY AND HAMILTON. 45 cents. 130.--BREWSTER'S LIVES OF GALILEO, TYCHO BRAHE, AND KEPLER. 45 cents. 131.--HISTORY OF ICELAND, GREENLAND, AND THE FAROE ISLANDS. 45 cents. 132.--MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE JAPANESE IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. 45 cents. 133.--DWIGHT'S HISTORY OF CONNECTICUT. 45 cents. 134, 135.--RUINS OF ANCIENT CITIES. 90 cents. 136, 137.--HISTORY OF DENMARK. 90 cents. 138.--CAMP ON DEMOCRACY. 45 cents. 139.--LANMAN'S MICHIGAN. 45 cents. 140.--FENELON'S ANCIENT PHILOSOPHERS. 45 cents. 141, 142.--COUNT SEGUR'S EXPEDITION TO RUSSIA. Map, 90 cents. 143, 144.--HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY. 90 cents. 145.--BUCKE'S BEAUTIES OF NATURE. 45 cents. 146.--LIEBER'S ESSAYS ON PROPERTY. 45 cents. 147.--WHITE'S HISTORY OF SELBORNE. 45 cents. 148.--WRANGELL'S EXPEDITION TO SIBERIA. 45 cts. NOTES [1] Gunong, a mountain, part of a chain. [2] Pronounced short, for (properly) Bandhara; a treasurer, chief steward. [3] The old name for the town of Sarawak. [4] Aloes wood, _Lignum aloes_. [5] The Malay name for the betel, the aromatic leaves of which are chewed along with the pinang or areca nut, a little pure lime, and various spices. [6] The banks of the Boyur and Quop are Nepa palm. [7] fines--J.H. [8] Western as regards Polynesia. [9] Also, vol. iv. of the _Bengal Asiatic Researches_. [10] Canto xv., stanza 55, 56. [11] The following is an extract from an equally sapient proposition, published in the Chinese state-papers on the 14th January, 1840; it is headed, Memorial of Toang Wangyen to the emperor, recommending plans for the extermination of barbarians: "Your minister's opinion is this: that we, being upon shore and they in their ships, it is not at all requisite to order our naval forces to proceed out a great distance to contend with them in battle. When the commercial intercourse of the said barbarians shall have been entirely put an end to, and their supplies grow scanty, it will be impossible for them to remain a long time anchored in the outer seas, and they will necessarily, as formerly, enter the inner waters in order to ramble and spy about them. We can then, by means of our naval vessels, tempt them and cause them to enter far in; and a previous arrangement having been made, we can summon the people who live along the coasts, such as are expert and able swimmers, and those who possess bravery and strength, to the amount of several hundreds of men: we can then cause them, during the night, to divide themselves into companies, and silently proceeding through the water, straightway board the foreign ships; and overcoming the crews in their unprepared state, make an entire massacre of the whole of them." [12] I need hardly remark on the singular courage and disregard of personal safety and life itself evinced by my friend on this occasion. At issue with the rajah on points of great temptation to him, beset by intrigues, and surrounded by a fierce and lawless people, Mr. Brooke did not hesitate to dispatch his vessels and protectors, the one on a mission of pure humanity, and the other in calm pursuance of the objects he had proposed to himself to accomplish; and with "three companions," place himself at the mercy of such circumstances, regardless of the danger, and relying on the overruling Providence in which he trusted, to bring him safely through all his difficulties and perils.--H. K. [13] Now called Samarang. [14] This I found on inquiry, to be strictly true--a most amiable trait!--B. [15] I am happy to say that the Lords of the Admiralty have since been pleased to promote Lieut. Wilmot Horton and Mr. W. L. Partridge, mate, who commanded the pinnace, for their gallantry on this occasion.--H. K. [16] Piratical habits are so interwoven with the character of these Sarebus people, that the capture at sea of a few prahus would have but small effect in curing the evil; while a harassing duty is encountered, the result is only to drive the pirates from one cruising-ground to another; but, on the contrary, a system which joins conciliation with severity, aiming at the correction of the native character as well as the suppression of piracy, and carrying punishment to the doors of the offenders, is the only one which can effectually eradicate an evil almost as disgraceful to those who permit it as to the native states engaged in it. [17] It had never been known so quiet as during the days we were up their river. [18] I have lately heard, with much regret, of the death of this valuable officer. [19] Leonard Gibbard made his first trip to sea under my charge in 1834, when I commanded the Childers in the Mediterranean, and at that early age gave promise of what he afterward proved himself to be--a gallant officer and thorough seaman. Poor fellow! he was always a general favorite wherever he went--H. K. [20] _Anglicè_, run-a-muck. [21] See Prichard's Researches, 1826, which, meager as they must have been from the want of data, tell us in two or three pages nearly all we know on the subject. That able investigator states that the Dyaks of Borneo resemble the Taraj of Celebes. [22] With regard to the Arafuras, or Haraforas, it is stated that they are termed in some districts Idaan, in others Murut, and in others Dayaks. See Raffles' Java. And Leyden assures us that all these varieties were originally called Idaan. [23] A singular contrast to preceding accounts, which represent the north and northeastern population not only as pirates, called Tiran or Zedong, but even as cannibals. Near them there appear to be the piratical nests of Magindano, Sooloo, &c. [24] There are several rivers, Meri, Bentulu, &c., the inhabitants of which, says Mr. Brooke, I class under the general term Millanow, as their dialects show a very close connection, and their habits are the same. Evidently from language they are civilized tribes of Kayans. [25] Leyden concluded that the language was allied to the Batta and Tagala, and the whole derived from and varieties of the primitive tongue of the Philippine Islands. [26] Probably a Dyak phrase for levying exactions on the oppressed people. It is not Malay. [27] The utter destruction of a village or town is nothing to the infliction of cutting down the fruit-trees. The former can be rebuilt, with its rude and ready materials, in a few weeks; but the latter, from which the principal subsistence of the natives is gathered, cannot be suddenly restored, and thus they are reduced to starvation. [28] The grounds for this opinion are an estimate personally made among the tribes, compared with the estimate kept by the local officers before the disturbance arose; and the result is, that only two out of twenty tribes have not suffered, while some tribes have been reduced, from 330 families to 50; about ten tribes have lost more than half their number; one tribe of 100 families has lost all its women and children made slaves; and one tribe, more wretched, has been reduced from 120 families to 2, that is, 16 persons; while two tribes have entirely disappeared. The list of the tribes and their numbers formerly and now are as follows:--Suntah, 330--50; Sanpro, 100--69; Sigo, 80--28; Sabungo, 60--33; Brang, 50--22; Sinnar, 80--34; Stang, 80--30; Samban, 60--34; Tubbia, 80--30; Goon, 40--25; Bang, 40--12; Kuj-juss, 35--0; Lundu, 80--2; Sow, 200--100; Sarambo, 100--60; Bombak, 35--35; Paninjow, 80--40; Singè, 220--220; Pons, 20--0; Sibaduh, 25--25. Total, formerly, 1795--now, 849 families; and reckoning eight persons to each family, the amount of population will be, formerly, 14,360--now, 6792: giving a decrease of population in ten years of 846 families, or 7568 persons! [29] Sir Edward Belcher has since surveyed Labuan in her majesty's ship Samarang, and finding an excellent harbor, named it Victoria Bay.--H. K. [30] Vide Mr. Wise's Plan (p. 362,3) for accelerating the communication between Great Britain and China, viz. the conveyance of the mails from Hong Kong to Suez (_viá_ Ceylon) direct. Submitted to her majesty's Government, 14th September, 1843; adopted 20th June, 1845. [31] The Borneo coal-mines would also serve to keep the Hong Kong, Singapore, and Pinang stations supplied with fuel for Steam Vessels carrying the Mails between Hong Hong and Suez direct. [32] Receiving at Ceylon the Outward Overland Mail from England, and returning therewith to China. [33] Date of submitting the above proposed route and estimate to her majesty's Government for consideration. [34] The MS. having been under water in the wreck of the Great Liverpool steamer, this name and some others are illegible. [35] A sort of gong. [36] Tumbawong is a place they have deserted, or been forced to quit. [37] A head-house. [38] Gadong is a small Malay village on the Sadong, considerably nearer the sea than the Bandar's village. [39] This occurred during Seriff Sahib's time; the Dyaks were frightfully oppressed. [40] The goods brought down by Mr. Williamson were on a public trial confiscated, and the parties concerned fined. These Dyaks from their distance and timidity, were afraid to complain, but will in future not be imposed upon. It would be a hopeless task trying to prevent the Malays playing their tricks on the Dyaks; and the only chance of freeing the Dyaks from these exactions is by inspiring them with confidence. In Sarawak this has been done, and may easily be extended; for the Dyak, though greatly depressed by a course of persecution, I have always found ready to state his complaints whenever he has a hope of redress. The Orong Kaya Pa Jampat of Mang-garut was freed of the debt claimed by the Samarahan Pangara; and the other complaints referred to my decision have been either rectified, or steps taken to do justice, and to render the Dyak tribes of Sadong happy and easy.--_Note by Mr. Brooke._ 
26844	----	BORNEO AND THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. London: SPOTTISWOODE AND SHAW, New-street Square. [Illustration: CHINESE JOSS HOUSE. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] [Illustration: (Transcriber's Note: No caption in original text--Picture shows a Bornean ship with the book title, author's name and publisher printed on the sails and hull.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS] BORNEO AND THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. WITH DRAWINGS OF COSTUME AND SCENERY. BY FRANK S. MARRYAT, LATE MIDSHIPMAN OF H. M. S. SAMARANG, SURVEYING VESSEL. LONDON: LONGMAN, BROWN, GREEN, AND LONGMANS, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 1848. INTRODUCTION. I wish the readers of these pages to understand that it has been with no desire to appear before the public as an author that I have published this Narrative of the Proceedings of Her Majesty's ship Samarang during her last Surveying Cruise. During the time that I was in the ship, I made a large collection of drawings, representing, I hope faithfully, the costumes of the natives and the scenery of a country so new to Europeans. They were considered, on my return, as worthy to be presented to the public, as being more voluminous and more characteristic than drawings made in haste usually are. I may here observe, that it has been a great error on the part of the Admiralty, considering the great expense incurred in fitting out vessels for survey, that a little additional outlay is not made in supplying every vessel with a professional draughtsman, as was invariably the case in the first vessels sent out on discovery. The duties of officers in surveying vessels are much too fatiguing and severe to allow them the time to make anything but hasty sketches, and they require that practice with the pencil without which natural talent is of little avail; the consequence is, that the engravings, which have appeared in too many of the Narratives of Journeys and Expeditions, give not only an imperfect, but even an erroneous, idea of what they would describe. A hasty pencil sketch, from an unpractised hand, is made over to an artist to reduce to proportion; from him it passes over to the hand of an engraver, and an interesting plate is produced by their joint labours. But, in this making up, the character and features of the individual are lost, or the scenery is composed of foliage not indigenous to the country, but introduced by the artist to make a good picture. In describing people and countries hitherto unknown, no description given by the pen will equal one correct drawing. How far I may have succeeded must be decided by those who have, with me, visited the same places and mixed with the people delineated. How I found time to complete the drawings is explained by my not doing any duty on board at one time, and at another by my having been discharged into the hospital-ship at Hong Kong. It was my intention to have published these drawings without letter-press, but in this I have been overruled. I have therefore been compelled to have recourse to my own private journal, which certainly was never intended for publication. As I proceeded, I found that, as I was not on board during the whole of the time, it would be better, and make the work more perfect, if I published the whole of the cruise, which I could easily do by referring to the journals of my messmates. I would gladly mention their names, and publicly acknowledge their assistance; but, all things considered, I think it as well to withhold them, and I take this opportunity of thanking them for their kindness. FRANK S. MARRYAT. LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. LITHOGRAPHIC PLATES. Chinese Joss House _Frontispiece_ Bornese Vessel _Title-page_ Loondoo Dyak _To face page_ 5 River Sarawak and Town of Kuchin 6 Keeney-Ballo 59 Serebis Dyak 79 Saghai Dyak 80 War Dance of the Dyaks 85 Malay Chief (Sooloo) 101 Bruni 106 Court of the Sultan of Borneo 109 West Point, Hong Kong 142 View on the Island of Poo-too 151 Chinese Joss House at Ningpo 156 Quelpartians 182 Mandarin of Quelpart (Corea) 183 Japanese 185 Natives of Luzon (Philippines) 199 View in Samboangan 201 Illanoan Pirate 207 Dusum 210 Port Louis 220 WOODCUTS. Mr. Brooke's House 7 Dyak Head 13 Malays of Kuchin 23 Native of Batan 27 Native of Pa-tchu-san 31 Sooloo Village 42 Native Boat--Borneo 63 Dyak War Prahu 64 Dyak Women in Canoe 74 Teeth of Dyaks 79 Costumes of Dyak Women 80 Sum-pi-tan--Blow-pipe, with poisoned Arrows 80 Dyak Village 82 Obtaining Fire 89 View of Sincapore 93 Malay Woman 100 Proboscis Monkey 103 Natives of Bruni 108 City of Manilla 121 Procession of the Sultan of Gonong Tabor 133 Ears of Dyaks at Gonong Tabor 135 Portrait of Mahomed Pullulu, Sultan of Sooloo 139 Tanka Boats--Hong Kong 141 Chinese Fishermen 145 Cook's Shop 146 Pagoda--Ningpo 154 Tanka Boat Women 165 Man-of-War Junk 168 Trading Junks 169 Japanese Boat 184 Salt Smugglers 193 Spanish Galleon 196 Water Carriers--Manilla 199 Illanoan Pirates 208 Natives of N. E. Coast of Borneo 210 Convict 215 Kling Woman 216 BORNEO AND THE INDIAN ARCHIPELAGO. On the 25th of January, 1843, H. M. S. Samarang, being completely equipped, went out of Portsmouth harbour and anchored at Spithead. The crew were paid advanced wages; and, five minutes after the money had been put into their hats at the pay-table, it was all most dexterously transferred to the pockets of their wives, whose regard and affection for their husbands at this peculiar time was most exemplary. On the following day, the crew of the Samarang made sail with full hearts and empty pockets. On the 25th February, sighted Fuerto Ventura: when off this island, the man at the mast-head reported a wreck in sight, which, as we neared it, appeared to be the wreck of a brig. Strange to say, the captain recognised it as an old acquaintance, which he had seen off Cape Finisterre on his return from China in the Sulphur. If this was not a mistake, it would be evidence of a southerly current in this quarter of the Atlantic. This may be, but I do not consider the proof to be sufficient to warrant the fact; although it may lead to the supposition. If this was the wreck seen at such a long interval by the captain, a succession of northerly winds and gales might have driven it down so far to the southward without the assistance of any current. It is well known that the great current of the Atlantic, the gulf stream (which is occasioned by the waters, being forced by the continuous trade winds into the Gulf of Mexico, finding a vent to the northward by the coast of America, from thence towards Newfoundland, and then in a more easterly direction), loses its force, and is expended to the northward of the Western Islands; and this is the cause why so many rocks have been yearly reported to have been fallen in with in this latitude. Wrecks, all over the Atlantic, which have been water-logged but do not sink, are borne by the various winds and currents until they get into the gulf stream, which sweeps them along in its course until they arrive to where its force is expended, and there they remain comparatively stationary. By this time, probably, years have passed, and they are covered with sea-weeds and barnacles, and, floating three or four feet out of the water, have every appearance of rocks; and, indeed, if run upon on a dark night, prove nearly as fatal. March 3rd.--Anchored off the town of Porto Praya, Island of St. Jago, in nine fathoms. Porto Praya is a miserable town, built on a most unhealthy spot, there being an extensive marsh behind it, which, from its miasma, creates a great mortality among the inhabitants. The consul is a native of Bona Vista: two English consuls having fallen victims to the climate in quick succession, no one was found very willing to succeed to such a certain provision from the Foreign Office. The interior of the island is, however, very different from what would be expected from the sight of Porto Praya. Some of the officers paid a visit to the valley of St. Domingo, which they described as a perfect paradise, luxuriant with every tropical fruit. Porto Praya is renowned for very large sharks. I was informed by a captain in Her Majesty's service, that once, when he anchored at Porto Praya, he had left the ship to go on shore in one of the twenty-two-foot gigs, not unaptly nick-named coffins in the service. He had not pulled more than a cable's length from the ship, when a shark, nearly as long as the gig, came up swimming with great velocity after them; and as he passed, the animal shouldered the boat, so as nearly to upset it: as it was, the boat took in the water over the gunwale. As the animal appeared preparing for another attack, the captain thought it advisable to pull alongside, and go on shore in the cutter instead of his own boat; and on this large boat the shark did not make a second attempt. April 25th.--Anchored in Simon's Bay, Cape of Good Hope. Sailed again on the 7th of May, and fell in with a favourable wind; and too much of it. For six days we were scudding before it under a close-reefed main-topsail and fore-staysail. On the 10th we lost one of the best men in the ship, the sailmaker, Charles Downing, who fell overboard; the ship was rounded to, the life-buoy let go, but we saw nothing of him. June 7th saw Christmas Islands, and on the same afternoon the land of Java. On the 11th we arrived off the town of Anger, in company with a fleet of merchant vessels of all nations and of all rigs. Having been so long without a fresh meal, we were not sorry to find ourselves surrounded by boats loaded with fish, fruit, and vegetables; we ate enormously, and they made us pay in proportion. On the 19th we arrived at Sincapore, and found the roads very gay with vessels of all descriptions, from the gallant free trader of 1000 tons to the Chinese junk. As Sincapore, as well as many other places, was more than once visited, I shall defer my description for the present. On June the 27th we weighed and made sail for the river of Sarawak (Borneo), to pay a visit to Mr. Brooke, who resides at Kuchin, a town situated on that river. The public have already been introduced to Mr. Brooke in the volumes published by Captain Henry Keppel. Mr. Brooke is a gentleman of independent fortune, who was formerly in the service of the Company. The usefulness and philanthropy of his public career are well known: if the private history which induced him to quit the service, and afterwards expatriate himself, could with propriety, and also regard to Mr. Brooke's feelings, be made known, it would redound still more to his honour and his high principle; but these I have no right to make public. Mr. Brooke, having made up his mind to the high task of civilising a barbarous people, and by every means in his power of putting an end to the wholesale annual murders committed by a nation of pirates, whose hands were, like Ishmael's, against every man, sailed from England in his yacht, the Royalist schooner, with a crew of picked and tried men, and proceeded to Sarawak, where he found the rajah, Muda Hassein, the uncle to the reigning sultan of Borneo, engaged in putting down the insurrection of various chiefs of the neighbouring territory. Mr. Brooke, with his small force, gave his assistance to the rajah; and through his efforts, and those of his well-armed band, the refractory chiefs were reduced to obedience. Willing to retain such a powerful ally, and partial to the English, the rajah made Mr. Brooke most splendid promises to induce him to remain; but the rajah, like all Asiatics, did not fulfil the performance of these promises until after much delay and vexation to Mr. Brooke, who required all the courage and patience with which he is so eminently gifted, before he could obtain his ends. At last he was successful: Muda Hassein made over to him a large tract of land, over which he was constituted rajah, and Mr. Brooke took up his residence at Kuchin; and this grant was ultimately confirmed by the seal of the sultan of Borneo. Such, in few words, is the history of Mr. Brooke: if the reader should wish for a more detailed account, I must refer him to Capt. Henry Keppel's work, in which is published a great portion of Mr. Brooke's own private memoranda. [Illustration: LOONDOO DYAK. (N. W. COAST OF BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] On the morning of the 29th June we saw the high land of Borneo, but for several days were unsuccessful in discovering the mouth of the river. On the night of July the 4th we anchored off the entrance of a river, which the captain supposed to be the Sarawak. The next morning the two barges, well armed, were sent up the river to obtain information. After pulling with the stream six or eight miles, they discovered a small canoe, which, on their approach, retreated up the river with great speed. Mr. Heard, the officer in charge of the boats, had taken the precaution, as he ascended the river, of cutting a palm branch for each boat, and these were now displayed at the bows as a sign of peaceable intentions. These universal tokens of amity reassured the natives, who, seeing them, now turned the bows of their canoes, and paddled towards the boats. The canoe contained four men, almost in a state of nudity, their only covering consisting of a narrow slip of cotton fastened round the middle. They were copper-coloured, and extremely ugly: their hair jet black, very long, and falling down the back; eyes were also black, and deeply sunk in the head, giving a vindictive appearance to the countenance; nose flattened; mouth very large; the lips of a bright vermilion, from the chewing of the betel-nut; and, to add to their ugliness, their teeth black, and filed to sharp points. Such is the personal appearance of a Loondoo Dyak. They informed us that the river we were then in was the Loondoo, and that the Sarawak was some distance to the eastward. They also gave us the information that the boats of the Dido had been engaged with pirates, and had been successful, having captured one prahu and sunk another. After great persuasion, we induced one of them to accompany us to the ship, and pilot her to the Sarawak. The same evening we weighed anchor, and stood towards a remarkable promontory (Tangong Sipang), to the eastward of which is the principal entrance of the Sarawak river; a second, but less safe, entrance being within a mile of the promontory. Light and variable winds prevented our arrival at the mouth of the river until the evening of the following day. From thence, after two days' incessant kedging and towing, we anchored off the town of Kuchin, on the morning of the 8th instant. The town of Kuchin is built on the left-hand side of the river Sarawak going up; and, from the windings of the river, you have to pull twenty-five miles up the river to arrive at it, whereas it is only five miles from the coast as the crow flies. It consists of about 800 houses, built on piles driven into the ground, the sides and roofs being enclosed with dried palm leaves. Strips of bamboo are laid across, which serve as a floor. In fact, there is little difference between these houses and those built by the Burmahs and other tribes in whose countries bamboo and ratan are plentiful. The houses of Mr. Brooke and the rajah are much superior to any others, having the advantage and comfort of wooden sides and floorings. We visited the rajah several times, who invariably received us with urbanity, and entertained us in a very hospitable manner. Muda Hassein is a man about fifty years of age,--some think more,--of low stature, as are most of the Malays, well made, and with a very prepossessing countenance for a Malay. His brother, Budruden, is a much finer man, very agreeable, and very partial to the English. The Malays profess Mahomedanism; but Budruden in many points followed European customs, both in dress and drinking wine. [Illustration: RIVER SARAWACK AND TOWN OF KUCHIN. (BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] The residence of Mr. Brooke is on the side of the river opposite to the town, as, for the most part, are all the houses of the Europeans. In structure it somewhat resembles a Swiss cottage, and is erected upon a green mound, which slopes down to the river's bank, where there is a landing-place for boats. At the back of the house is a garden, containing almost every tree peculiar to the climate; and it was a novelty to us to see collected together the cotton-tree, the areca, sago, palm, &c., with every variety of the Camellia japonica in a state of most luxurious wildness. [Illustration: MR. BROOKE'S HOUSE.] The establishment consists of six Europeans, and the house contains one large receiving-room, and several smaller ones, appropriated to the residents as sleeping apartments, besides Mr. Brooke's own private rooms. The large room is decorated with rifles, swords, and other instruments of warfare, European and native; and it is in this room that the European rajah gives his audiences: and it is also in this room that every day, at five o'clock, a capital dinner is served up, to which we were made heartily welcome. During our stay, Mr. Brooke, accompanied by several of our officers and some of the residents, made an excursion up the river. We started early in the morning, with a flowing tide; and, rapidly sweeping past the suburbs of the town, which extend some distance up the river, we found ourselves gliding through most interesting scenery. On either side, the river was bounded by gloomy forests, whose trees feathered down to the river's bank, the water reflecting their shadows with peculiar distinctness. Occasionally the scene was diversified by a cleared spot amidst this wilderness, where, perchance, a half-ruined hut, apparently not inhabited for years, the remains of a canoe, together with fragments of household utensils, were to be seen, proving that once it had been the abode of those who had been cut off by some native attack, and probably the heads of its former occupants were now hanging up in some skull-house belonging to another tribe. The trees were literally alive with monkeys and squirrels, which quickly decamped as we approached them. Several times we were startled by the sudden plunge of the alligators into the water, close to the boats, and of whose propinquity we were not aware until they made the plunge. All these rivers are infested with alligators, and I believe they are very often mischievous; at all events, one of our youngsters was continually in a small canoe, paddling about, and the natives cautioned us that if he was not careful he certainly would be taken by one of these animals. Early in the afternoon we disembarked at a Chinese village twenty-five miles from Kuchin. The inhabitants of this village work the gold and antimony mines belonging to Mr. Brooke. We remained there for the night, and the next morning proceeded further up the river, and landed at another village, where we breakfasted, and then proceeded on foot to visit the mines. Our path lay through dense forests of gigantic trees, whose branches met and interlaced overhead, shading us from the burning rays of the sun. At times we would emerge from the wood, and find ourselves passing through cultivated patches of ravines, enclosed on all sides by lofty mountains, covered with foliage. In these spots we found a few natives with their families, who seemed to be contented in their perfect isolation; for in these secluded spots generations may pass away, and know no world beyond their own confines of forest jungle. At times our route was over mountains, whose appearance was so formidable that our hearts almost failed us at the prospect of having to scale them; but we succeeded beyond our expectations, and at length arrived at the antimony village, not a little pleased at our labours being ended. Our spirits, which had been flagging, were revived by a pull at the bottle. From our resting-place we had a good view of the mine, which is a source of great profit to Mr. Brooke. The antimony is obtained from the side of a hill, the whole of which is supposed to be formed of this valuable mineral. The side at which the men are at work shines like silver during the day, and may be seen several miles distant, strangely contrasting with the dark foliage of the adjoining jungles. The ore is conveyed to Kuchin, and is there shipped on board of the Royalist, (Mr. Brooke's schooner yacht,) and taken to Sincapore, where it is eagerly purchased by the merchants, and shipped for England. After partaking of a little refreshment we set off, through woods and over mountains, as before, to visit the gold mine. On our arrival at every village on the road, a certain number of guns were fired by the natives, in honour of the European rajah; and the same ceremony was repeated when we left it. It was late in the afternoon before we arrived at the village attached to the gold mine. It is prettily situated in the depth of a valley, through which runs a small rivulet. On every side mountains soar into the clouds, which must be passed before you can reach the village. Dinner had been prepared for us by the inhabitants of the village, who were a colony of Chinese; and it was served up in a large building dedicated to Joss, whose shrine was brilliantly illuminated with candles and joss-sticks. Some of the officers unthinkingly lighted their cigars at the altar. The Chinese, observing it, requested very civilly that they would do so no more; a request which was, of course, complied with. After dinner we all proceeded to the rivulet, in search of gold; the natives had cleared out the bed of the river; the sand and stones were thrown into an artificial sluice for washing it; and a little gold was found by some of the party. This gold mine, if it may be so called, is worth to Mr. Brooke about 1000l. per annum, after all the expenses are paid. Its real value is much greater; but the Chinese conceal a great quantity, and appropriate it to themselves. But if the particles of gold which are brought down by a small rivulet are of such value, what may be the value of the mines above, in the mountains as yet untrodden by human feet? This, it is to be hoped, enterprise will some day reveal. We remained at the village that night, and at daylight commenced our journey back to the village from which we had started the day before. There we embarked, and proceeded down the river to the first Chinese village, at which we arrived in the course of the afternoon. A short distance inland is a mountain, called Sarambo, which it was proposed to ascend, as, by our telescopes, we could perceive houses near to its summit, and were told it was the residence of some of the mountain Dyaks under Mr. Brooke's sway. From the village this mountain wore the appearance of a huge sugar-loaf, and its sides appeared inaccessible. Mr. Brooke, with his usual kindness, gave his consent, and despatched a messenger to the Dyak village, requesting the chief to send a party down by daylight the next morning, to convey our luggage up the mountain. At day-dawn we were awakened by a confused noise outside of the house, and, looking out, we perceived that more than a score of these mountain Dyaks had arrived. Most of them had nothing on but the usual strip of cotton; some few had on red baize jackets. They all wore a peculiar kind of _kris_, and many had spears, sampitans, and shields. They were fine-limbed men, with muscles strongly developed. Their hair fell down their backs, and nearly reached their middle: it was prevented from falling over the face by a fillet of grass, which was ornamented with mountain flowers. After a hurried breakfast we set off for the foot of the mountain, our party amounting to about eighty people. The guides led the way, followed by the Europeans; and the Dyaks, with the luggage, brought up the rear. In this order we commenced the ascent. Each person was provided with a bamboo, which was found indispensable; and thus, like a party of pilgrims, we proceeded on our way; and before we had gone very far, we discovered that we were subjected to severe penance. The mountain was nearly perpendicular. In some places we had to ascend by a single piece of wood, with rough notches for the feet, resting against a rock twenty or thirty feet above our heads; and on either side was a precipice, so that a false step must have been certain death. In other places a single piece of bamboo was thrown over a frightful chasm, by way of bridge. This, with a slight bamboo rail for the hand, was all that we had to trust to. The careful manner in which we passed these dangers was a source of great laughter and amusement to the Dyaks who followed us. Accustomed from infancy to tread these dangerous paths, although heavily laden, they scorned to support themselves. Some of our party were nearly exhausted, and a long way in the rear before we came to the village. We had to wait for their coming up, and threw ourselves under the shade of some huge trees, that we might contemplate the bird's-eye view beneath. It was a sight which must be seen to be appreciated. Almost as far as the eye could reach was one immense wooded plain, bounded by lofty mountains in the far distance, whose tops pierced the clouds. The rivers appeared like silver threads, running through the jungles; now breaking off, and then regained. At our feet lay the village we had started from, the houses of which appeared like mere points. Shakspeare Cliff was as nothing to it, and his beautiful lines would have fallen very short of the mark; and while we gazed, suddenly a cloud below us would pass between us and the view, and all would be hidden from the sight. Thus we were far above the clouds, and then the clouds would break, and open, and pass and repass over each other, until, like the dissolving views, all was clear again, although the landscape was not changed. It was towards noon before we saw the first mountain village, which we did not immediately enter, as we waited the arrival of the laggards: we stopped, therefore, at a spring of cold water, and enjoyed a refreshing wash. Here we fell in with some pretty Dyak girls, very scantily clothed, who were throwing water at each other in sport. We soon came in for a plentiful share, which we returned with interest; and in this amusing combat we passed half an hour, until all had joined the party. We then entered the village, which was situated in a grove of trees. The houses were built upon posts, as those down by the river side. They were immensely large, with a bamboo platform running the whole length of the building, and divided into many compartments, in each of which a Dyak family resides. We were escorted, through a crowd of wondering Dyaks, to a house in the centre of the village, which was very different in construction from the others. It was perfectly round, and well ventilated by numerous port-holes in the roof, which was pointed. We ascended to the room above by means of a rough ladder, and when we entered we were rather taken aback at finding that we were in the Head House, as it is termed, and that the beams were lined with human heads, all hanging by a small line passed through the top of the skull. They were painted in the most fantastic and hideous manner; pieces of wood, painted to imitate the eyes, were inserted into the sockets, and added not a little to their ghastly grinning appearance. The strangest part of the story, and which added very much to the effect of the scene, was, that these skulls were perpetually moving to and fro, and knocking against, each other. This, I presume, was occasioned by the different currents of air blowing in at the port-holes cut in the roof; but what with their continual motion, their nodding their chins when they hit each other, and their grinning teeth, they really appeared to be endowed with new life, and were a very merry set of fellows. However, whatever might be the first impression occasioned by this very unusual sight, it very soon wore off, and we amused ourselves with those motions which were "not life," as Byron says; and, in the course of the day, succeeded in making a very excellent dinner in company with these gentlemen, although we were none of us sufficiently Don Giovannis to invite our friends above to supper. We visited three villages on the Sarambo mountain. Each of these villages was governed by a chief of its own, but they were subordinate to the great chief, residing in the first village. [Illustration: DYAK HEAD.] In the evening the major portion of the population came to the Head House, to exhibit to us their national dances. The music was composed of two gongs and two large bamboo drums. The men stood up first, in war costume, brandishing their spears and shields, and throwing themselves into the most extraordinary attitudes, as they cut with their knives at some imaginary enemy; at the same time uttering the most unearthly yells, in which the Dyak spectators joined, apparently highly delighted with the exhibition. The women then came forward, and went through a very unmeaning kind of dance, keeping time with their hands and feet; but still it was rather a relief after the noise and yelling from which we had just suffered. The chief, Macuta, expressing a wish to see a specimen of our dancing, not to let them suppose we were not as warlike as themselves, two of the gig's boat's crew stood up, and went through the evolutions of the broad-sword exercise in a very creditable manner. After this performance one of the seamen danced the sailor's hornpipe, which brought forth a torrent of yells instead of bravos, but they certainly meant the same thing. By this time, the heat from a large fire, with the smell of humanity in so crowded a room, became so overpowering, that I was glad to leave the Head House to get a little fresh air, and my ears relieved from the dinning of the drums and gongs. It was a beautiful starry night, and, strolling through the village, I soon made acquaintance with a native Dyak, who requested me to enter his house. He introduced me to his family, consisting of several fine girls and a young lad. The former were naked from the shoulders to below the breasts, where a pair of stays, composed of several circles of whalebone, with brass fastenings, were secured round their waists; and to the stays was attached a cotton petticoat, reaching to below their knees. This was the whole of their attire. They were much shorter than European women, but well made; very interesting in their appearance, and affable and friendly in their manners. Their eyes were dark and piercing, and I may say there was something wicked in their furtive glances; their noses were but slightly flattened; the mouth rather large; but when I beheld the magnificent teeth which required all its size to display, I thought this rather an advantage. Their hair was superlatively beautiful, and would have been envied by many a courtly dame. It was jet black, and of the finest texture, and hung in graceful masses down the back, nearly reaching to the ground. A mountain Dyak girl, if not a beauty, has many most beautiful points; and, at all events, is very interesting and, I may say, pretty. They have good eyes, good teeth, and good hair;--more than good: I may say splendid;--and they have good manners, and know how to make use of their eyes. I shall, therefore, leave my readers to form their own estimates by my description. Expecting to meet some natives in my ramble, I had filled my pockets with ship's biscuit, and which I now distributed among the ladies, who appeared very grateful, as they rewarded me, while they munched it, by darting wicked glances from their laughing eyes. Observing that the lad wore a necklace of human teeth round his neck, his father explained to me, in pantomime, that they were the teeth of an enemy whom he slew in battle, and whose head was now in the Head House. As it was getting late I bade my new friends farewell, by shaking hands all round. The girls laughed immoderately at this way of bidding good-bye, which, of course, was to them quite novel. I regretted afterwards that I had not attempted the more agreeable way of bidding ladies farewell, which, I presume, they would have understood better; as I believe kissing is an universal language, perfectly understood from the equator to the pole. At daylight the next morning we descended the mountain, and, embarking in the boats, arrived at the ship late in the afternoon. While at Sarawak we witnessed a very strange ceremony. Hearing a great noise in a house, we entered, and found ourselves in a large room crowded to excess by a numerous assemblage, singing in any thing but harmony. They proved to be natives of Java, assembled for the purpose of celebrating one of their festivals. On our entrance into the house, we were literally covered by the inmates with perfumes of the most delightful fragrance. Some of these odours were in a liquid state, and were poured down our backs, or upon our heads; others were in a state of powder, with which we were plentifully besprinkled. We were then escorted into the centre of the room, where we found a circle of elderly men, who were reading portions of their sacred books, and their voices were accompanied by music from instruments of native manufacture. We were treated with great attention, being permitted to enter the circle of the elders, who ordered the attendants to hand us refreshments, which consisted of cakes made of rice and cocoa-nut oil, and Sam-schoo. Some of our party, having become slightly elevated, volunteered a song, which proposition was opposed by the more reasonable. The Javanese were appealed to by the former, and they gave their votes in favour of the song. It was accordingly sung by our whole party, much to the delight of our kind entertainers, who, no doubt, considered that we felt and appreciated their rites. At length we took our leave, well pleased with our novel entertainment. So well did we succeed in making ourselves agreeable, that we received an invitation for the following night. July 10th.--In the evening a display of fireworks took place, notice of which had been given to the rajah, and, indeed, to the whole population of Kuchin, who had all assembled near to the ship, to witness what they considered a most wonderful sight. Seamen were stationed at all the yard-arms, flying jib, and driver booms, with blue-lights, which were fired simultaneously with the discharge of a dozen rockets, and the great gun of a royal salute. The echoes reverberated for at least a minute after the last gun of the salute had been fired; and, judging by the yells of the natives, the display must have created a strong sensation. Immediately after the salute, the anchor was weighed, and we commenced dropping down the river with the ebb tide; but we soon grounded on the mud, and we remained all night with the bowsprit in the bushes which grow on the banks of the river. The ship floated the next morning; the anchor was weighed, and with the assistance of the ebb tide, we dropped down the river at the rate of five miles per hour. As we were nearing a cluster of dangerous rocks, about a mile below Kuchin, we found that the ship was at the mercy of the rapid tide; and, notwithstanding all our endeavours, the ship struck on the rocks. Anchors were immediately laid out, but to no effect: the water rapidly shallowed, and we gave up all thoughts of getting off until the next flood tide. As the water left the ship, she fell over to starboard, and, an hour after she had grounded, she listed to starboard 25 degrees. Our position was now becoming critical: the main deck ports had been shipped some time previous, but this precaution did not prevent the water from gaining entrance on the main and lower decks. As she still continued to heel over to starboard, a hawser was taken on shore, and, by purchases, set taut to the mast head; but before this could be accomplished she had filled so much that it proved useless. A boat was now despatched to Kuchin, to acquaint Mr. Brooke with our disaster, and to request the assistance of the native boats. During the absence of the boats, the top-gallant-masts had been sent down, and topmasts lowered; but the ship was now careening over 46 degrees, and full of water. All hopes of getting her off were therefore, for the present, abandoned; and we commenced removing every thing that could be taken out of her in the boats. The surveying instruments and other valuables, were sent up to Kuchin in the gig; and afterwards every thing that could be obtained from the ship was brought up in the native boats, as well as the whole crew of the Samarang. Mr. Brooke insisted upon all the officers making a temporary abode at his house, and prepared a shed for the crew. An excellent dinner was laid before the officers, while a substantial mess of fowls and rice was served out to the crew. In fact, the kindness of Mr. Brooke was beyond all bounds. The gentlemen who resided with him, as well as himself, provided us with clothes from their own wardrobes, and during our protracted stay did all in their power to make us comfortable; indeed, I may safely say, that we were so happy and comfortable, that there were but very few of the officers and crew of the Samarang that ever wished to see her afloat again. But I must return to my narrative. The morning after our disaster we went down to the ship, and commenced recovering provisions and stores, sending down masts and yards, and every other article deemed necessary; and this was continued for several days: during which the midshipmen, petty officers, and seamen were removed to the opposite shore, where two houses had been, by Mr. Brooke, prepared for their reception. Our house, (the midshipmen's) we christened Cockpit Hall; it was very romantically situate in the middle of a plantation of cocoa nut, palm, banana, and plantain trees. It was separated from the house in which the seamen were barracked by a small kind of jungle, not more than 300 yards in extent, but so intricate that we constantly lost our way in it, and had to shout and receive an answer, or go back and take a fresh departure. Our garden, in which there was a delightful spring of cold water, extended on a gentle slope about a hundred yards in front of the house, where its base was watered by a branch of the Sarawak; in which we refreshed ourselves by bathing morning and evening, in spite of the numerous alligators and water snakes with which the river abounds. But our incautious gambols received a check. Two of our party agreed to proceed to the mouth of the branch I have mentioned, to determine which could return with the greatest speed. They had commenced their swimming race, when we, who stood ashore as umpires, observed an enormous water snake, with head erect, making for the two swimmers. We cried out to them to hasten on shore, which they did; while we kept up a rapid discharge of stones at the head of the brute, who was at last driven off in another direction. This incident induced us to be more cautious, and to keep within safe boundary for the future. Our repose at Cockpit Hall was, however, much disturbed by the nightly visits of wild hogs, porcupines, wild cats, guanos, and various other animals, some of which made dreadful noises. When they paid us their visits, we all turned out, and, armed with muskets, commenced an assault upon them, which soon caused them to evacuate our domain; but similar success did not attend our endeavours to dislodge the swarms of musquitos, scorpions, lizards, and centipedes from our habitations. They secreted themselves in the thatch, and the sides of the house during the day, and failed not to disturb with their onslaughts during the whole of the night. July 22d.--Mr. Hooper, the purser, was despatched in the Royalist to Sincapore, to purchase provisions and obtain assistance from any of the men-of-war who might be lying in the roads. It is not necessary to enter into a minute detail of the service which we were now employed upon. It certainly was not a service of love, as we had to raise a ship which we hoped would remain where she was. To enter into particulars, technical terms must be resorted to, which would only puzzle the reader. The position of the Samarang was simply this: she lay on a rock, and had filled by careening over; as long as she was on her side, the water rose and fell in her with the flood and ebb of the tide; but if once we could get her on an even keel, as soon as the water left her with the ebb of the tide, all we had to do was to pump her out, and then she would float again. To effect this, we had to lighten her as much as possible, by taking out of her her guns and stores of every description; then to get purchases on her from the shore, and assist the purchases with rafts under her bilge, so as to raise her again upon an even keel. On the second day after she filled, when the tide had run out, we removed all our chests from the lower deck; most of them were broken, and a large proportion of the contents missing. On the 27th May every thing had been prepared, and the attempt to get the vessel on an even keel was made, and it proved successful, as it well might with the variety of purchases, and the force of men we had at our disposition. When we repaired to the ship with 100 Malays to man the purchase-falls, the tide was ebbing fast, and the pumps were immediately set to work; so that at midnight, when the tide commenced flowing, the ship was nearly free of water. The purchases were then manned, and with the assistance of the rafts the ship gradually righted. The following day, about half-past two in the morning, the ship was free of water, and had risen to a careen of 30°; at 3 o'clock she floated into deep water, and was then anchored. During the forenoon of the same day the ship was towed to her former anchoring ground off Kuchin. The same night the Harlequin and Royalist arrived in the river, and a day or two afterwards a brig and schooner came over with the intention of bidding for the remains of the ship, and of stocking the officers with clothes and necessaries. This was a losing speculation, as may be imagined, arising from a report having been circulated that it was impossible to raise the ship, whereas, as the reader will perceive, there was very little difficulty in so doing, nothing but sufficient strength being required. Our ship, as may be supposed, was in a most filthy state after the late immersion. Plunging into a river does not clean a vessel, although it does a man. The decks were literally coated with mud and slime, which emitted the most foetid odour. Silver spoons, watches, and valuables of every description, were everywhere strewed about, few of which ever reached their rightful owners; for the Malays who were employed to clean the ship had an eye to business, and secreted every thing which was portable. By dint of great exertion, the ship was in a few days ready to receive her tanks, guns, and stores, which were embarked by the Harlequin's boats and boats' crews. She was soon in a forward state, and an expedition was formed to survey a part of the coast during the completion of her refitting. The gig and one of the barges were fitted out for this service, and on August the 13th, at daylight, we left Kuchin, well armed, and provisioned for ten days. At 10 A. M. we dropped anchor under the Peak of Santabong, from which the branch of the Sarawak we were then in derives its name. Here we remained a short time to refresh the men, who had not ceased tugging at the oar from the time that we started. The foot of the Santabong mountain is about a quarter of a mile from the river. It then ascends almost perpendicularly to a great height, towering far above the neighbouring mountains. Afterwards it runs seaward for a mile or two, and terminates in a remarkable peak, which forms the eastern horn of the extensive bay between it and Tanjon Datu. Here we were about a week, during which time we had extended our survey to the last-mentioned cape, which is about forty miles to the westward of Santabong. While in the vicinity of Datu, a strict watch was kept, that we might have timely notice of the approach of any prahus. A short distance from the cape is a delightful bay studded with small islets, which is known by the appellation of Pirate's Bay, so called from its being a favourite resort of the Illanoan pirates. It was in this bay that the Dido's boats were anchored when they were surprised by several piratical prahus, the look-out men in the European boats, exhausted by the heat and long pulling at the oar, having fallen asleep. They had scarcely time to cut the cables and grasp their weapons ere they were assailed on all sides by the pirates, who felt confident of success, from having found them napping. But they little knew what people they had to deal with, and if Jack was asleep when they made the attack, they found him wide awake when they came to close quarters. All their endeavours to board in the face of the rapid fire of the boats' guns and small arms proved abortive, and they soon discovered that it would be quite sufficient for their purpose if, instead of capturing the boats, they could make their own escape. One of the prahus, pierced by the well-directed shot, foundered, another was abandoned, and the rest, favoured by darkness, made their escape. For a more detailed account, I must refer the reader to Captain Keppel's work on Borneo. During the survey, we visited the islands of Talen Talen--the Malay word for turtle. These islands are the property of Mr. Brooke. A few Malays lived on the largest of them for the purpose of getting turtle eggs, with which they supply the trading prahus, who continually call here to lay in a stock of these eggs, which are considered a great luxury by the Malays. We landed with Mr. Williamson, the Malay interpreter at Sarawak, belonging to Mr. Brooke's establishment. We were well received by the Malays, who knew Mr. Williamson well, and he informed them that our object was to procure a live turtle. They requested us to take our choice of the numerous turtle then lying on the beach. We selected one of about three cwt.; but although the turtles are never turned on this island, she appeared to be aware that such was our intention, and scuttled off as fast as she could for the water; however, we intercepted her, and with some difficulty secured our prize. From one of the numerous nests on the beach we took 600 turtle eggs. As many thousands could have been as easily procured, but we had sufficient for our wants. The Malays watch during the night, to ascertain where the turtle deposits her eggs, for as soon as she has finished her task, she covers them with her nippers with sand, and immediately retires into the sea. A piece of wood is then set up as a mark for the nest, which is rifled as occasion requires. It is a curious fact that the male turtle never lands. [Illustration: MALAYS OF KUCHIN.] After visiting several villages on the coast, we returned to Kuchin on Saturday the 19th, when we found that death had deprived us of our only musician on board the ship, a loss which was much felt by the crew, as he contributed much to their amusement. One of the supernumerary boys had also fallen a victim to the dysentery; but, although we deplored our loss, we had great reason to be thankful that it had been no greater, as on the day we left Kuchin, we had upwards of seventy men on the sick report. The same day, at noon, the anchor was weighed, and we dropped down the river with the ebb tide. Strange to say, in spite of all our precautions, we struck on the same reef of rocks again; fortunately, however, the ship turned with the tide and grounded in the mud close to the bushes, from whence there was no extricating her till the flood tide had made. In the afternoon, when it was low water, a very large alligator was discovered asleep upon the rocks, which had been properly christened the Samarang Rocks, and which were now, at low ebb, several feet above water. A party of officers and marines pulled towards him, and fired a volley at him. The brute was evidently wounded, as he sprang up several feet in the air, and then disappeared under the water. Shortly after he again made his appearance, having landed on the opposite side of the river; his assailants again gave chase, and again wounded him, but he shuffled into the river and escaped. At three in the afternoon, we were much pleased at the arrival of the Diana, one of the Company's steamers, sent from Sincapore to our assistance. She proved extremely useful, for that night we gained fifteen miles, when we again grounded and remained all night. On the following day, at eleven A. M., a cloud of thick smoke was observed rising above the jungle, which we immediately decided to proceed from a steamer. Shortly afterwards two masts appeared above the trees, and at one of them the Vixen's number was flying: she soon hove in sight. We weighed, and with the Harlequin, were towed down the river at a rapid pace. When we arrived at the entrance we anchored, finding there the Wanderer, and being joined soon afterwards by the Ariel, Royalist, and Diana, we formed a squadron of six vessels. On the 23d August, the Samarang, Harlequin, Ariel, and Royalist, weighed anchor and steered along the coast for Borneo Proper, where we arrived on Tuesday the 29th. On the Thursday following, Mr. Brooke, accompanied by the captains of the three men-of-war and some officers, started in one of the barges for the city of Bruni, which was about eighteen miles from our anchorage. They had an audience with the sultan, but upon what cause I do not exactly know. They were treated with great civility, and returned to the ship about one o'clock on the following morning. My description of Bruni I shall reserve for a future visit. On the 5th of September we made sail for Hong Kong, with the Vixen in company, leaving the Ariel and Royalist to carry Mr. Brooke and the rajah's brother down to Sarawak. The Harlequin sailed for Sincapore. The Vixen having parted company to obtain fuel at Manilla, we continued our course to Hong Kong, where we arrived on the 14th inst., and found there Admirals Parker and Cochrane, in their respective ships the Cornwallis and Agincourt, with others of the squadron. We sailed again on the 2d of November, and after working up the coast of China for a week, we steered to the eastward, and on the 12th sighted the Bashee group. Here our surveying duties commenced in earnest, as we left the ship at four A. M. and did not return till darkness put an end to our labours. The governor of this group of islands sent a letter to our captain requesting the pleasure of seeing the ship in San Domingo Bay, where wood, water, and live stock could be obtained on reasonable terms. This letter was accompanied with a present of fruit and vegetables. A few days afterwards, we worked up to San Domingo Bay (Batan Island), and we were much surprised on our arrival to perceive that the town had a cathedral, of apparently ancient architecture, besides several houses built on the European style. The remainder of the town, which is of some extent, was composed of houses built of bamboo, and thatched with palm leaves. We anchored late in the afternoon, and were boarded by a Spanish military officer, who, to judge by certain signs and peculiarities, had been imbibing something stronger than water. The captain and some of the officers went on shore, to call upon the governor. The governor's house was distinguished by a flag-staff, with the Spanish colours, or, rather, a remnant of the Spanish colours; and around the door stood a group of most indifferently clad Luzonian soldiers, turned out, we presumed, as a guard of honour. The governor was as much in dishabille as his troops, and shortly afterwards the party was joined by two priests and the governor's wife, a very pretty Creole, about twenty years of age. We were regaled with wine and chocolate, and parted late in the evening, on very friendly terms. The governor's house is a miserable abode: it has but one story, and the basement is a barrack for the soldiers. The upper part, inhabited by the governor, was very scantily furnished: a few old chairs, a couple of tables, and the walls whitewashed and decorated with prints of the Virgin Mary and his excellency's patron saint. The house of the priests, which adjoined the cathedral, was in much better repair, and more gaudy in the inside. There are three missions in Batan, each settlement having its cathedral and officiating priests. The natives, who are a distinct race, are well-proportioned, of a copper colour, and medium stature. They are very ugly: their hair is black, and cut short. Their usual dress consists of a piece of cotton, passed round the loins, and a peculiar-looking conical hat, surmounted with a tuft of goat's hair. In rainy weather they wear a cloak of rushes, through which the water cannot penetrate. The sole covering of the women is a piece of cotton, fastened below the bosom, and reaching down to the knee. Almost the whole of the Bashee group of islands are very mountainous. At the back of San Domingo the land rises to a great height, forming a remarkable peak, which can be seen many leagues distant. Bullocks, goats, pigs, and vegetables, can be obtained at a very moderate price; but very little fruit is grown, the natives usually preferring to cultivate yams, cocoas, and sweet potatoes. The sugar-cane is cultivated, and the tobacco grown here is considered, with great justice, far superior to any grown at Luzon. After a week's stay at San Domingo we ran down to Ivana, one of the missions, and made a rough survey of the bay. The mission house at this place was fitted up with every comfort, and we even found luxuries which we looked in vain for at San Domingo. [Illustration: NATIVE OF BATAN.] After completing the survey of this portion of the island, the governor (who had accompanied us from San Domingo) and a party of us set off to return to San Domingo by land. Our path lay over mountains nearly 2000 feet in height, from the summit of which every point and inlet could be discerned, over the whole of the group which lay below, exactly as if they were laid down on a chart. Our walk was very fatiguing, and we were all rejoiced when, from an eminence, we descried the village of San Carlos, the residence of the warm-hearted and hospitable Father Nicholas. We descended into the vale, and were heartily welcomed by the jolly old priest, who regaled us with all that his larder could supply us. It had been arranged that the ship should leave Ivana for San Domingo on the following morning. At the entreaty of the good padre we remained at San Carlos all night, and the following morning returned to San Domingo, the ship anchoring in the bay on the same afternoon. We had now become quite domesticated with the friendly Spaniards. In the evenings we were received by an assemblage of the natives at the governor's house. They were dressed in their best, and went through an unmeaning dance, which was kept up till a late hour. On the 27th November we left Batan, and its kind inhabitants, who exacted a promise that we would return at some future period, and shaped a course for the Madjicosima islands, which are subject to the kingdom of Loo Choo. On the afternoon of the 1st of December land was discovered ahead, and a few hours afterwards we anchored in a narrow passage, surrounded by reefs on every side. We were anchored off the island of Pa-tchu-san, one of the group: it was very mountainous. On the following morning the captain and some of the officers went on shore. They were received by several hundred natives, who saluted them as they passed on their way to a temporary shed, where a levee was held by all the principal mandarins. Our Chinese interpreter, who was a native of Canton, explained the captain's wishes, and the nature of the service that we were employed on. They appeared uneasy at the proposal of our surveying the whole group, and informed the captain that they would refer the question to the viceroy, and give him a final answer on the morrow. This answer was in the affirmative, and a few days afterwards we commenced our survey of the islands. We were attended by the natives, who furnished us with horses, and anticipated our wishes in every thing that could make us comfortable. On the first day, at sunset, we arrived at a temple dedicated to Fo, romantically situated in a grove of trees, which concealed the elevation until you were within a few yards of it. Here it was proposed to take up our quarters for the night, and a more delightful spot could not well be imagined than our resting-place. The temple was built at the foot of a hill, within a few hundred yards of the sea. Lights were displayed as a signal to the stragglers, groups of whom might be seen by the light of the moon, reposing themselves on the ridge behind us. The glare of the torches brought them all down to us, both men and horses anxious for rest after the arduous toil of the day. Just as I was dropping off to sleep, one of my messmates said to another, "I say, Jemmy, I wonder whether your mother has any idea that you are sleeping in the temple of Fo, on the island of Pa-tchu-san?" A loud snore was the only reply, proving that the party addressed was unconscious of the island Pa-tchu-san, the temple of Fo, or of his mother, and the bells ringing for church. Pa-tchu-san, as I have before observed, is very mountainous and exceedingly picturesque. A high ridge covered with trees extends the whole length of the island, north and south. On either side of this ridge are innumerable grassy knolls and mounds from which we looked down upon the extensive plain on either side, which was studded with knolls similar to those that we were standing on. During our survey we passed through all the villages bordering the sea, at the entrance of which we were invariably received by all the principal inhabitants. All their villages or towns are surrounded by the most luxurious groves, which have been apparently planted, for in many parts not a shrub could be seen beyond the confines of the town. The roads through the towns or streets generally meet at right angles, lined on each side with gigantic trees. The houses are built within enclosures raised with huge stones. These houses are strongly built, the frame being composed of four uprights of large timber, to which are attached cross pieces on the top of them, of the same dimensions as their supporters. Openings are left on each side of the house, which, when the owner pleases, can be closed by well-fitted shutters on the sliding principle. The roofs are thatched with paddy stalks. The floor frame is raised about two feet from the ground, and on it are fixed strong slips of bamboo, which are covered over with mats. These afford very comfortable sitting and sleeping apartments. The only inconvenience was, that the fire was made in the corner of the sitting-room, and as there was no vent for the smoke, we were nearly stifled. This nuisance was, however, soon removed by a word to the natives through the medium of the interpreter, and afterwards the fire was lighted, and the victuals cooked, at an adjoining shed. The natives of the Madjicosima islands are rather below the middle stature, but very strong and muscular. Their hair is worn in a very peculiar manner; the crown of the head is shaved, leaving a circle of long hair, which is turned up on the top of the head and tied into a knot of a peculiar shape. Through this knot of hair are passed two brass ornaments by the common people, but the chiefs are distinguished by silver ones. These are evidently intended to keep the knot in its right position. They cultivate the moustache and the beard, the latter being worn pointed. Their dress consists of a long loose robe of blue or cross-barred cotton stuffs, which reaches down nearly to the ancles. This robe is fastened to the waist by a girdle of the same material, and in which they keep their fans, pipes, &c. The sleeves of the robe are very large, widening as they approach the wrists, which are consequently bare. Their shoes or sandals are very ingeniously made of wicker work, and confined to the foot by means of a strap between the larger toes of each foot. [Illustration: NATIVE OF PA-TCHU-SAN.] The inhabitants of these islands certainly deserve to be ranked among the most gentle and amiable of nations: no boisterousness attends their conversation, no violent gestures to give effect to the words; on the contrary, their voices are modulated when they are speaking, and their actions, although decided, are gentle. Their mode of salutation is graceful in the extreme. It consists in a low bending of the head, accompanied with a slight inclination of the body, and the hands closed, being raised at the same time to the forehead. What a change in a few degrees of latitude, in manners, customs, and dispositions, between the savage pirates of Borneo and these amiable islanders! The plains between the mountains are cultivated as paddy fields: the soil appears very good, and there is little doubt but that every kind of fruit would grow if introduced into these islands; and what a fitting present it would be to them, if they were to be sent. They grow radishes, onions, and sweet potatoes, but not more than are sufficient for their own use. They supplied us with bullocks, pigs, goats, and fowls, but they seldom kill them for their own use; their principal diet being composed of shell fish and vegetables made into a sort of stew, which is eaten with rice, worked by the hand into balls. Every man of consequence carries with him a kind of portable larder, which is a box with a shelf in the middle, and a sliding door. In this are put cups of Japan, containing the eatables. This Chow Chow box is carried by a servant, who also takes with him a wicker basket, containing rice and potatoes for his own consumption. These islands have no intercourse with any part of the world except Loo Choo, to which they pay tribute as dependencies, and from whence they annually receive the necessaries they may require, by a junk. They had no idea that the continents of Europe or America existed. They had only heard of China, Loo Choo, and Japan, and they could hardly credit our assertions when we stated that we had lately gained a great victory over China. When we gave them a description of steam vessels, and first-rate men-of-war carrying 120 guns, they evidently disbelieved us. We were the first white men they had ever seen; and ludicrous was the repeated examination of our arms, which they bared and contrasted with their own. After great persuasion a few of the chief mandarins and their suites visited the ship, which was put in holiday attire upon the occasion. It would be impossible to attempt to describe their rapture at the neatness, order, and regularity which reigned on board. The guns were shotted and fired for their amusement: they threw up their hands in astonishment, and gazed on us and on each other with looks of blank amazement. During the whole of our peregrinations over these islands we never saw a female, for on our approach to any village a courier was sent ahead to warn the inhabitants of our arrival, when the women either shut themselves up or retired to an adjacent village until we had passed through. The men assisted us in our labours and attended to our comforts by all the means in their power. Horses were provided every day, houses for us at night, and good substantial repasts. Wherever they enter, the natives invariably eat and drink, more, I believe, from custom than from hunger. On these occasions tea is the general beverage, the kettle being a large shell, which admirably answers the purpose. It may be worthy of remark, that on entering a house, the shoes or sandals are invariably left at the door. Two of the chiefs were deservedly great favourites with our party; they were given the famous names of Chesterfield and Beaufort, the former from his gentlemanly manners, the latter from the profound knowledge he displayed of all rocks, shoals, &c. On the 17th of December, having completed our survey of Pa-tchu-san, we returned to the ship: on the 22d we left our anchorage, which was christened Port Providence, and ran round to Kuchee Bay on the opposite side of the island. This noble bay was called Port Haddington, in honour of the late first lord of the Admiralty. On the 27th the first barge, cutter, and gig left the ship to survey the island Ku-king-san, the nearest port of which was about twenty miles from Kuchee Bay, alias Port Haddington, where we lay at anchor. The boats carried with them provisions for three weeks, by which time it was supposed that the survey would be completed. As the formation of this island is similar to Pa-tchu-san, it would be but repetition to describe it minutely, but it is worthy of remark that it is indented with numerous deep bays, in each of which there is sufficient water for a ship of the line. Many of these bays have natural breakwaters, created by shoals, with a deep water passage on either side of them, and which may be easily distinguished from the shoals by the deep blue colour of the water. On the 15th of January, 1844, the surveying party returned, having been absent twenty days. We were again visited by the mandarins, who came to bid us farewell: they quitted us with many expressions of good will, and expressed a wish that we would return again, and as _individuals_, I had no doubt of their sincerity. On the 18th of January we sailed for Ty-ping-san, which is situated about seventy miles north of Pa-tchu-san. On the following day we sighted the land, and late in the evening anchored off the coast. This island is low, compared with the other islands of the group. The following morning the captain landed and presented a letter of introduction given him by the mandarins of Pa-tchu-san. The letter of introduction had the best effects, for we were immediately visited by the principal mandarins, who informed us that we should be furnished with horses and every thing else that we might require. It was on a reef to the northward of this island that the Providence, of twenty guns, was wrecked about fifty years back. Captain Broughton and the crew arrived safely at Ty-ping-san, but the present inhabitants, when it was mentioned, either did not or would not recollect any thing of the circumstances. As a proof of the morality of these people, and how much crime is held in abhorrence, I have the following little history to narrate. During our survey, we fixed a station upon the extremity of a bleak and desolate point of land running more than a mile into the sea. There, in a cave formed by a reef on a mass of rock, we discovered two skeletons. This would not have so much excited our suspicion, had it not been from the remarkable locality, as in all the graves we fell in with the corpses were invariably uncoffined. We expressed a wish to know why such a spot should have been fixed upon as a last resting-place, as it was many miles from the nearest habitation. It was not until after much entreaty that they at length, very reluctantly, consented to give us the desired explanation, which, as nearly as I can recollect, was as follows:-- A young girl, who was considered as the belle and pride of the nearest town, had formed an attachment to a youth who had been brought up with her, as a playmate, from their earliest years; and it was acknowledged by the inhabitants of the town that a more fitting match could not be made, as the young man was of most graceful mien, and equally well favoured as his mistress; but the father of the girl, who had been all along blind to the natural consequences of their long intimacy, had other views for his daughter, and had selected a husband for her whose chief recommendation was his wealth. So far it is the old story. To oppose her father's commands was not to be thought of, for filial obedience is, with this people, one of the most sacred of duties. The bridal day approached; presents had been exchanged between the parents of the parties; and every thing was in a forward state for the celebration of the nuptials, with all the magnificence befitting the wealthy condition of the bridegroom. The lovers were in a state of phrensy, but solaced themselves with stolen interviews. At length the poor girl, urged by her lover, confessed every thing to her father, and implored his mercy. He was thunderstruck at this intelligence, for till that moment he had imagined that his daughter had not a thought to which he was not privy. The most rigorous discipline was resorted to--the girl was confined to her chamber, and spies placed to watch every motion. Those to whom she thought she could trust were suborned by her father, and to him were conveyed all the letters which she believed to have been safely conveyed to her lover. His notes being also intercepted, at last each considered the other as faithless. The poor girl, imagining that her lover had forsaken her, at last sent to her father, to acquaint him that she had returned to her duty, and was ready to receive the man whom he had selected for her husband. They were married: but she deceived herself; as soon as the ceremony was over, the courage which had supported her gave way, her former feelings returned stronger than ever, and she hated herself for her fickleness. Her heart whispered that it was impossible that one possessing every great and every amiable quality, as did her lover, could ever have proved faithless, or would have abandoned one who loved him so dearly. As she sat in the garden and wept, a slight noise attracted her attention, and she found in her presence her lover, disguised, who had come to take a last farewell. Explanations immediately ensued--they found that they had been tricked--their love and their despair overcame their reason, and they fled. The father and bridegroom pursued the guilty pair, and after a most rigorous search, they were discovered. They knew that their fate was sealed, and they bore up bravely to the last. They were arraigned, found guilty, and condemned to death; after which their bodies were to be removed far from any dwelling-place. The sentence was carried into effect, and their remains were deposited in the cave in which we discovered them. Many parents might draw a lesson from this tragedy, and anybody who feels inclined may write a novel upon it; it must not, however, bear the same title as the Chinese one translated by Governor Davis, which is styled the "Fortunate Union." In ten days we completed the survey of the island, and sailed for Batan, where we arrived on the 7th of February. There we remained a few days, and then sailed for Hong Kong, having but three days' provisions on board. We encountered a heavy gale; but, fortunately, it was in our favour. On the 9th a junk was reported in sight; and in the course of an hour we were sufficiently near to perceive that the people on board of her were making signals of distress, and cutting away her masts. We hove to as near to her as we could venture, for the sea ran high, and lowered a boat, which reached the junk in safety. They found her to be in a sinking state: a hawser was made fast to her, with the intention of towing her into Hong Kong, then not fifty miles distant. We again made sail, towing the junk at a rapid rate; but the strain caused her planks to sever, and consequently increased the rush of water in her hold. The Chinese hailed the ship, and entreated to be rescued from their perilous condition. She was immediately hauled alongside, and twelve of her crew succeeded in getting on board of us; but the hawser gave way, and the junk drifted astern, with five men still remaining on board. Sail was immediately made, and in a short time we ran alongside of her, staving in her bulwarks, for both vessels were rolling heavily. Fortunately her mainmast had gone by the board; had it been still standing, and had become locked in our rigging, we should have been in great peril ourselves. The remaining five men and a dog gained the ship, and the junk again went astern, and in three minutes afterwards went to the bottom. When they saw her sink, the Chinese raised up a cry at their miraculous escape. One poor fellow had his hand shockingly mutilated, it having been crushed between the sides of the two vessels. The wind had now much subsided, and we made sail for Hong Kong, where we arrived on the following day. There we found the Agincourt, Sir Thomas Cochrane, who was now commander-in-chief, Sir William Parker having sailed for England. The cutter and two of the Company's steamers were also here; and the Minden hospital ship, as usual, crowded with the sick and dying. Our first lieutenant, Mr. Wade, took this opportunity of leaving the ship, and Mr. Heard succeeded him. On the 6th we sailed for Macao, which is too well known to require any description here. On the 10th we sailed for Manilla, an account of which I shall reserve for our future visit. On the 1st of April we again sailed, on a surveying cruise, to the southward. After fixing the positions of several small islands in the Mendoro Sea, we steered for Samboangan, a Spanish penal colony, situated at the southern extremity of Mindanao. On the 8th we arrived there, and took up our anchorage close to the town. Samboangan is built on an extensive plain; most of the houses are supported on poles ten or twelve feet from the ground. The roofs are thatched, and the sides covered with palm leaves, ingeniously secured by strips of bamboo. The fort is well built; and although a century old, is in very good preservation. It has a numerous garrison, and is defended by guns of large calibre. There is also an establishment of gun-boats, which scour the coast in search of pirates. On each side, and at the back of the town, are groves of cocoa-nuts, bamboos, plantains, and other fruit trees, through which narrow paths are cut, forming delightful shady walks to a stranger, who gazes with astonishment and pleasure upon the variety of delicious fruits, of whose existence he had no idea. The plain on which the town is built extends about eight miles inland, when it is bounded by a chain of mountains, which divides the Spanish territory from that of the warlike tribes who inhabit the interior. The plain I have spoken of is covered with small villages, pleasantly situated among thick groves of trees; and it is watered by numerous streams. The whole country around Samboangan abounds in scenery of the most picturesque description; and the groups of gaily-dressed and joyous natives in no small degree add to the beauty of the landscape. Horses can be obtained at very moderate charges; but unfortunately no one has ever thought of establishing an hotel, and the want of one was much felt. We were, therefore, thrown upon the hospitality and kindness of the natives, who made us welcome by every demonstration in their power. Fruit, chocolate, and sweet biscuits, were the ordinary refreshments, for which the charges made scarcely repaid the trouble of preparing them. The church, priests' and governor's houses, are the only respectable buildings in the colony; the other houses in the town are very inferior, being inhabited by liberated exiles from Manilla. We remained here five days, and early on the morning of the 13th ran down to a watering-place about fifteen miles from the town, and completed our water. The same night we sailed for Sooloo; and the next day, when performing divine service, it being Sunday, the officer of the watch reported five prahus in sight, full of men, and each armed with a long gun, pulling towards the ship. It was quite calm at the time, and our main deck ports were open. No doubt they perceived the daylight through the ports, and satisfied themselves that we were a man-of-war, for they soon afterwards altered their course, and made for the shore. We presumed that they were pirates from the island of Baselan, who, fancying we were a merchant vessel, had come out with the intention of attacking us. At noon on the 16th of April we made the town of Sooloo, the capital of the island of the same name. It being calm, and the ship at some distance from the anchorage, the gig was sent ahead to board one of the three schooners lying in the bay, and hoist a light, as a guide to the ship; and a rocket was put into the boat to fire in case of being attacked by superior numbers. There were but five men in the gig! After two hours' hard pulling, they arrived alongside the largest of the three vessels. She proved to be the Velocipede, an English vessel, trading to Sooloo for pearl oysters. The owner of the schooner soon came from the shore, having been sent off by the sultan of Sooloo to know the object of our visit. He was accompanied by several Datus or chiefs, who went back to the town perfectly satisfied with the explanation given. But the arrival of a man-of-war appeared to excite the fears of the natives, for gongs were sounding throughout the night, and lights were flitting to and fro, by the aid of which it was perceived that there was a strong assemblage of the natives. The ship anchored on the afternoon of the following day, and the captain, attended by several of his officers, visited the sultan. We were received by the prime minister, who informed us that the sultan was somewhat indisposed, and begged to postpone the interview until the following day. Leaving the palace, we strolled through the town, which is partly built in the water; bridges, formed of interlaced bamboo, were the means of communication between the houses. As these bridges were some hundred yards in length, the walking was somewhat dangerous; a slip would have been the cause of a good ducking and a swim to any unlucky wight, which, I have no doubt, would have given great satisfaction to the townspeople, who, armed with spears, krisses, and shields, were watching our motions; but no such mishap occurred, and we returned on board before sunset. Next day the captain and the same party went again on shore, and were received by the sultan in person. He was dressed in the extreme of Malay fashion. He was an excessively plain young man, and seemed to be ill at ease during the whole of the conference. He appeared to be a mere puppet in the hands of his ferocious chiefs, who had all the conversation, without referring to their royal master at any time. The sultan's dress consisted of a purple satin jacket and green velvet trousers, both trimmed with gold and silver lace; a red sash confined his trousers at the waist; and in the sash he wore a kris of the most costly description. He wore diamond buttons on his jacket, which, being open, exposed his naked chest. But the party who mostly excited our interest was the heir apparent, a child of four years old, who was dressed as an adult, even to his miniature kris. He bids fair to be a handsome man. His laughing face and engaging manner caused him to be caressed by the whole party, a circumstance which evidently gave much pleasure to the sultan. We were regaled with chocolate, sweet cakes, and fruit; and every attention paid to us by the chiefs. At our departure the sultan and ministers shook hands warmly with every one of our party, and we returned on board, accompanied by Mr. Wyndham, of the Velocipede schooner, who, being a perfect master of the tongue, had acted as an interpreter on this occasion. The Samarang was the first English man-of-war that had called at Sooloo since the visit of Dalrymple in 1761, when he reinstated on the throne the sultan (grandfather to the present one), who had been deposed by his rebellious subjects. Great Sooloo is about fifty miles in length, and twenty-five in breadth, being the largest of a group of islands known as the Sooloo Archipelago. This group of islands is inhabited by a fierce and warlike race, bearing in their personal appearance a strong resemblance to the Malays, although the two languages differ materially from each other. Great Sooloo, the residence of the sultan, is very mountainous. Many of the mountains are wooded to the summit, while others are covered with patches of cultivation. These islands are thickly populated; and if the islanders do not practise piracy as a profession, they are always ready to aid, assist, and protect those who do. The town of Sooloo is well known to be the principal rendezvous of pirates, who, whenever they have made a capture, resort there to dispose of their lawless booty. The ministers, and even the sultan himself, are not able to resist the temptation of being able to purchase European goods, and articles of value, for less than half their real value. If not the stealers, they are the receivers, and thus they patronise piracy of every description. Governed by their own prince, and independent of any other power, the people of Sooloo have most extravagant notions of their own prowess, and of the strength of their fortifications; and they ridicule the idea of any one venturing to interfere with or attack them. [Illustration: SOOLOO VILLAGE.] On the 18th of April we sailed from Sooloo, and visited several islands in the Archipelago, on one of which we grounded, but escaped without sustaining any damage. On the 23rd we anchored off Unsang, the eastern province of Borneo, where we remained four days surveying the coast. A shooting and fishing party visited the shore daily: the former killed several wild hogs, and the latter brought every evening a plentiful supply of fish. On the 27th of April sailed from Unsang. This day we first served out our ship-brewed porter, in addition to the usual allowance of spirits. It continued to be served out nightly, but opinions were very different about its merits. For several days after leaving Unsang, we had but little or no wind, and we were borne away by a strong easterly current, till we were carried in sight of Celebes, which is high and mountainous, and covered with dense forests of gigantic trees. On Sunday, the 4th of May, we arrived off Cape Rivers (Celebes), the position of which was determined by astronomical observations. It was the intention of the captain to have passed through the Straits of Macassar, but light wind, and a strong current from the southward, would not permit us to gain a mile per day. After experiencing very disagreeable weather while off the coast, we bore up and made sail for Monado, a Dutch settlement on one of the north-western promontories of this remarkably shaped island. Our passage was any thing but agreeable; scarcely a night passed that we were not visited by strong squalls, accompanied by thunder, lightning, and heavy rain. On Sunday, the 18th, we anchored in forty-eight fathoms off the town of Monado, within two cables' length of the shore, which shelves very suddenly into deep water. A kedge was laid out in-shore of the ship, and kept well taut; a requisite precaution, as otherwise, if the land breeze blew off strong, the ship would have dragged her anchor down the steep beach, and drifted out. The town of Monado is built on a plain surrounded by mountains, the highest of which, Klabat, is 6000 feet above the level of the sea. The houses are well built, and neatly thatched; they are all detached, and enclosed in a yard or garden. The roads are excellent, and reflect great credit upon a Prussian engineer, who undertook the task. The fort, which is at the water's edge, is small, but strongly built, and well adapted to resist the attack of any native force, although I should imagine it could not hold out any time against the well-directed fire of a frigate's broadside. A party of us enjoyed a pleasant ramble through the town and suburbs, which are dotted with neat cottages, where their owners invited us to enter and partake of refreshments. We went into several, and found them scrupulously neat and clean, as Dutch houses usually are. The people who entertained us refused all compensation, and it was with difficulty that we prevailed upon the black-eyed damsels to accept our silk handkerchiefs by way of reminiscences. Very few Europeans reside here, although their half-bred offspring may be seen in every tenth person, and they boast of the European blood which flows in their veins. Monado abounds with poultry, fruit, vegetables, and all the necessaries of life. Cocoa and sugar are cultivated. Stock is easily obtained, and very moderate; and water is procured from a small river which divides the town. Boats should enter the river at last quarter flood, and return first quarter ebb, as the tide falls rapidly; and at low water the bar at the entrance is dry. During our stay we surveyed the major portion of the bay, finding nothing under 150 fathoms of water at one-third of a mile from the shore. We found here a Mr. Hart, who had been left at this place in consequence of his precarious state, from a gun-shot wound he had received on the Coti River (Borneo). Mr. Hart was a volunteer in the ill-fated expedition undertaken by Mr. Murray, who attempted to establish a colony in the Coti River, and who lost his life in an encounter with the natives. The vessels employed--a brig and a schooner--were fitting out at Hong Kong while we were there. We fell in with the schooner (the Young Queen) the day after we left Manilla. The captain of her came on board to give us the intelligence of the failure of the expedition, with the death of its leader. Misfortune appeared to cling to them, for, soon after the schooner left Coti, the crew of her mutinied, and the mutiny was not put down but by the death of the ringleader, who was shot by the commander. He was bound to Hong Kong to deliver himself up for trial for taking the life of the man, and I hardly need observe that he was fully acquitted. This gentleman was a brother of Mr. Hart. On the 26th of May, our observations being completed, we sailed from Monado; Mr. Hart, with the captain's permission, taking advantage of this opportunity of reaching Sincapore. The following day we ran through the Straits of Banca, and steered for Ternate, off which island we arrived on the following Saturday. On Sunday morning, before daylight, we struck heavily on a coral reef, but by dint of great exertion we got off, and floated at six. A boat was despatched to the Dutch governor of the town to state that it was not our intention to anchor. The island of Ternate is, I believe, governed by a sultan, who has sway over several other islands. The Dutch have a settlement here, and have long been on good terms with the ruling powers. It is the most important of the Molucca group, as it produces a vast quantity of cloves, beside every variety of tropical fruits. It was taken by us in 1810, and restored in 1815. This island, as far as I could judge, is perfectly round, and about twenty-five miles in circuit, the land gradually rising to a huge peak in the centre. It is of volcanic formation. It is well wooded, and abounds with game; and on this island the boa constrictor grows to the largest size, being often found upwards of thirty feet in length. The Dutch town is built on the south-east side of the island. The houses appear to be better constructed than those of Monado, and the whole town better arranged. There are several forts, two churches, and apparently about 400 houses. The one occupied by the governor is distinguished from the others by its size, and superiority of architecture and decorations. We obtained quantities of every description of fruit from the boats which crowded round the ship: in addition to shaddocks, pineapples, oranges, bananas, and many other common varieties, we had the delightful treat of the mangosteins, which grow only in these latitudes. It is impossible to describe the peculiarly grateful taste of this cool and refreshing fruit. It is a mixture of the sweet and acid, blended in the most luscious manner. It is in size somewhat smaller than an apple, and the skin, which is very thick and bitter, of a dark plum colour. This when dried is used as a remedy for the dysentery. The inside, which is nearly white, is divided into four parts, resembling in substance a firm jelly; and, in my opinion, gives one more the idea of what nectar was, or ought to be, than any thing else which enters into the mouth of man. We decided that the Peak of Ternate was the true Mount Olympus, and that it was there that the gods were assembled and, in ancient days, ate mangosteins, called nectar by the Greeks. The boat which had been sent on shore to the governor at length returned, and we made sail to the southward, to survey a portion of the coast of Gilolo (another of the Spice Islands), which was supposed to be laid down incorrectly in the charts. On the morning of Monday, the 3rd of June, the ship being off the coast of Gilolo, the gig with the captain, and the barge with several officers, left the ship with four days' provisions to survey a portion of the coast. At 11 A. M. they landed on a reef, running out about a cable's length from a small island. About two in the afternoon a body of natives, armed with spears and krisses, issued with loud yells from the jungle, and advanced towards them. At the same time a prahu pulled round a point, and made towards the barge, which was at anchor about fifty yards from the shore. The captain was at the time on shore taking observations, but as the natives approached he retired to the gig and got the arms in readiness. The natives came within 100 yards of us, and then halted. The captain signed them to go away: they approached nearer; we gave them a volley, and they hastily retreated into the jungle. The barge was now prepared for the expected attack of the prahu, which by this time had approached within point blank range of the barge's gun, which was a brass six-pounder. Observing, it is to be presumed, that the boat was so well-armed, and the men were loading the gun, the prahu ceased pulling, and hoisted Dutch colours. They were ordered to pull for the Gilolo shore, which they did; a rocket fired at them quickening their speed considerably. At 3 P. M. the observations being completed, the astronomical instruments were re-embarked on the barge, and the captain quitted the gig and went into the barge. Both boats were pulled towards the main land. On the in-shore side of the small island I have mentioned, we discovered a village consisting of fifteen or twenty houses. The gig was despatched with two officers to burn the village, which was done; the natives who were in the huts escaping into the jungle. In the mean time, the barge proceeded towards a large village in search of the prahu. On their way they fell in with a large canoe, at anchor in one of the creeks. Taking the canoe in tow, we again took to the oars, and in a short time perceived the natives hauling the prahu into a creek. A round of grape quickly decided the matter; the natives fled, and the prahu was quietly taken possession of by our crew. Having effected our object, we proceeded along the coast with our two prizes in tow. At sunset, after rifling the boats of arms, flags, and gongs, we set them on fire, and made sail to the southward; the gig, which had rejoined us, being in company. About midnight we anchored in a small and lonely bay,--I should say, twenty miles from where the above occurrences took place. We took our meals, but did not attempt to repose till after two in the morning, although we were quite tired after the events of the day before. We then lay down, and composed ourselves to sleep. We had not, however, been recumbent long, ere the sounds of gongs were heard at a distance; and shortly afterwards the man on the look-out reported that three prahus were coming into the bay. A short time sufficed to have every thing in readiness for the expected conflict. The foremost of the prahus approached within ten yards of the barge, lowered her sail, and rounded to. A native, one of the chiefs we presumed, inquired in broken English if we belonged to a ship. The captain would not satisfy him on that point, but desired him to go away. The other two prahus, having been joined by a third (making four in all), had now closed within half pistol shot, and lowered their sails. Seeing that we were completely enclosed, a musket-ball was fired over the largest prahu. The men in the prahus gave their accustomed yell, and the whole force advanced towards us. The six-pounder, loaded with round and grape, was now fired into the largest prahu; the cries and confusion were great; the crew of the prahu leapt into the water, but few arrived on shore,--they sunk under the fire of our muskets. The three other prahus then commenced a spirited fire from their guns and small arms, assisted by a flight of arrows and spears. Pulling within twenty yards of them, we plied them alternately with grape and canister from our six-pounder. The engagement continued with great vigour for some time, when their fire slackened; and shortly afterwards two more of the prahus were deserted by their crews, who made for the shore; the fourth made off. The three prahus were taken possession of, towed into deep water, and anchored. Leaving the gig in charge of them, we went in pursuit of the fourth prahu, and soon came up with her; but her crew escaped by running the boat on shore. Another prahu now hove in sight, pulling, or rather paddling, towards us. Leaving our prize, we faced our new antagonist, saluting her with grape and musquetry, and causing so much havoc, that, shrieking and yelling, they made for the nearest shore without returning a single shot. We followed her, firing into her as fast as possible. On coming up with her we found her aground, with six dead and one mortally wounded; the remainder of the crew had saved themselves by wading to the shore. After getting this prahu afloat, we brought the other prahu, which we had just before captured (No. 4.), alongside. This boat was crowded with dead and dying. Among the latter was a female child, apparently about eight months old, in a state of nudity. The poor little creature's left arm was nearly severed from its body by a grape shot. She was removed into the boat, where the rest of the wounded were placed, with as much care as possible. A low moaning sound escaped from her lips, her eyes were glazed, and she evidently was fast dying: it would have been a mercy to have put an end to her sufferings. The dead were then thrown overboard, and the prahu set on fire; the last prahu, containing the wounded, was left to her fate. It was now daylight, and on looking around we perceived five more prahus off a point between the gig and ourselves in the barge and several others pulling in from seaward. We gave way for the five prahus, which were drawn up in a line ready to receive us. Notwithstanding their fire, assisted by their spears and other missiles, we pulled within fifteen yards of the outermost prahu of the five, and discharged our gun, accompanied by a volley of musquetry. The other prahus now closed and poured in a heavy fire; but, although the barge was struck, not one of our men was injured. The repeated fire from the boats soon caused the people in the prahus to make for the shore through the water, when many of them fell from our musquetry. It was now about six o'clock in the morning, our last charge of canister shot was in the gun, the last rocket in the tube, and nearly all the percussion caps expended. The barge was pulled closer to the nearest prahu to give more effect to the discharge, and the captain was in the stern of the barge with the rocket tube in hand, when one of the prahus on shore fired her swivel; the ball struck the captain, and knocked him overboard. He was hauled in, and we found that he had received a severe wound in the groin, which was dressed by the surgeon. _Lieutenant Baugh_ now took the command, and the gun was discharged with good effect, and all the people on board of the prahus, who were able to escape, made for the shore. One of our marines was wounded in the neck with an arrow, and, with the exception of the captain, no other casualty took place. The fight would have been continued with the round shot still left in the barge, but the assistant surgeon was anxious that the captain should return to the ship and have the ball extracted. The barge therefore pulled for the ship, whose royals were just visible above the horizon. The pirates, finding that we were retreating, returned to their prahus and fired their guns at us, but without effect. We arrived on board about 9 A. M., and the ship's head was put towards the scene of action, while the barge and two cutters were despatched in search of the gig, of whose safety we had great doubts. About 11.30, A.M., the second cutter, being in advance, discovered a sail in shore, and which, by the aid of our telescopes, we made out to be the gig. When we closed with her, and found that all was right we were greatly relieved. We heard from Mr. Hooper, the purser, who was in her, that after waiting in vain for the barge's return, he set fire to the prahus. In one of them he found a woman and child alive, whom he landed at the nearest point. He then pulled in the direction we had gone, being guided by the sound of our guns. On his arrival in the bay we were not in sight, and perceiving several prahus with flags flying and gongs beating, he naturally concluded that we had been overpowered, and he was making the best of his way towards the ship. The boats continued pulling towards the shore, leaving the gig to return to the ship and ease the minds of the ship's company respecting her safety. On our arrival in the bay with the barge and cutters, we found that the prahus had hauled into a creek, on the banks of which was a masked battery, which opened a spirited fire upon us as soon as we came within range. After an hour's cannonading on both sides we were joined by the gig, with orders for us not to land, but to return to the ship at sunset. This order was not received with pleasure, as we hoped to have a chance of punishing the fellows a little more. We pulled a short distance along the coast, and entered another bay, in which we destroyed two prahus; after which we returned to the ship. Calms, and a strong current setting to the northward, detained the ship near the scene of action for several days. We at length passed through the straits of Patientia, but did not get the breeze until we sighted the Isle of Bouro. Passing through the Bonta passage, straits of Salayer, and Java sea, we arrived at Sincapore on the 28th of June. Here we found the Harlequin, which had had a brush with the pirates on the coast of Sumatra. The Harlequin, Wanderer, and Diana were sent to the villages of Micedo and Batta, to demand the murderers of an English captain. On the rajah refusing to deliver them up, the vessels opened their fire and burnt the villages. The Harlequin lost two men killed and five wounded; among the latter was Lieutenant Chads, whose arm was nearly severed by a Malay kris. While here the Superb arrived from Hong Kong on her way to England; the Driver, with Sir Henry Pottinger on board; and the Cambrian, Commodore Chads. Also the Iris from England, and the Dido from Hong Kong, which latter vessel sailed for Sarawak. I may as well here remark, that the Dutch made a formal complaint against our captain for having attacked their prahus, which they asserted were not pirates, but employed by them against the pirates. It is but fair to give the arguments that were used against us, particularly as the authorities at Sincapore appeared to think that we were to blame. They said, you were in boats, and you touched at Gillolo; the natives, accustomed to be taken off by the Illanoan pirates, were naturally jealous and suspicious, seeing no vessel. They came alone, armed, to ascertain who you were. At 100 yards they stopped; you signalled them to go away, and they advanced nearer to you, but they committed no act of hostility. You fired a volley at them, and they retreated. Here the aggression was on your side. At the same time, you say, a war prahu pulled round the point, and approached to within range; when the prahu was close to you she ceased paddling, and hoisted Dutch colours. You desired it to pull for the Gillolo shore, which it did. There was no aggression in this instance, and nothing piratical in the conduct of the prahu. After she had obeyed your order to pull to the Gillolo shore, you wantonly fired a Congreve rocket at her; your conduct in this instance being much more like that of a pirate than hers. In the afternoon you pull along the Gillolo shore, and you discover a village; you send your boat ashore and set fire to it. Why so? You state that you were attacked by Illanoan pirates, who reside at Tampassook, some hundred miles from Gillolo, and you then burn the village of the people of Gillolo, and that without the least aggression on their part. Is it surprising that you should be supposed to be pirates after such wanton outrage? To proceed: you state that you then go in search of the prahu which you ordered away, and that on your way you captured a large canoe, which you take in tow, and afterwards perceive the pirates hauling their vessel into a creek. You attack them, and they run away, leaving the prahu in your possession, and, as usual, after rifling the prahu and canoe, you set them on fire. Up to this point there has been nothing but aggression on your part; and it is not, therefore, surprising that you were supposed to be pirates, and that the communication was made along the coast, and the vessels employed against the pirates were summoned for its protection. Again, the prahus came out and surrounded you; they did not fire at you, but hailed you in English, requesting to know if you belonged to a ship. Now, if any thing could prove that they were not pirate vessels, it was their doing this; and had you replied, they would have explained to you what their employment was: but you think proper to give no answer to this simple question, order them to go away, and then fire a loaded musket into them, which brings on the conflict which you so much desired. That these observations were true, it must be admitted, and the complaint of the Dutch, with the hoisting of the Dutch flag, gave great weight to them: however, pirates or no pirates, the Admiralty Court, on our arrival in England, considered them to have been such; and, as will be seen by the extract from the "Times" below, awarded head money to the amount of about 10,000l. to the captain and crew of the Samarang, and for his wound received, our captain obtained a pension of (I believe) £250 a year.[1] "ADMIRALTY COURT. (_Before Dr. Lushington._) "ILLANOAN PIRATES.--BOUNTY. "In this case a petition was presented by Sir Edward Belcher, the captain, and the rest of the officers and crew of Her Majesty's ship-of-war Samarang, setting forth that on the 3d of June, 1844, the Samarang being then engaged in surveying duties, and near the island of Gillolo, on her passage towards the Straits of Patientia, Sir E. Belcher, with two officers and four men, quitted her in the gig, accompanied by the second barge, armed with a brass six-pounder gun and small arms, and manned with twenty officers and men. While engaged on the extreme side of a reef, extending from a small islet, in taking astronomical observations, they were disturbed by an extraordinary yell proceeding from about forty men of colour, who were advancing from the islet along both sides of the reef, with the evident intention of surrounding Sir E. Belcher and his party, on nearing whom they commenced hurling spears and arrows, though without effect. They were soon repulsed and put to flight by musketry. In the course of the day several large prahus made their appearance, manned by large crews of Malay pirates, and severe conflicts took place between the respective parties, in one of which a ball from the leading prahu struck Sir E. Belcher on the thigh, and knocked him overboard, severely and dangerously wounding him; but, having been lifted out of the water, and dragged into the barge, _he shortly after resumed the command_, and ultimately succeeded in destroying all the prahus. "Dr. Addams applied to the Court to award the bounties specified in the 6th of George IV. c. 49. for the capture and destruction of piratical ships and vessels. He submitted that the affidavits produced clearly showed the character of the persons on board the prahus, and that not less than 1,330 persons were alive on board the several prahus at the beginning of the attack, 350 of whom were killed. "The Queen's Advocate, on behalf of the Crown, admitted that a very meritorious service had been performed, and made no opposition to the application. "The Court pronounced for the usual bounties on the number of pirates stated." [Footnote 1: The account of this transaction is taken from the private log of one of the officers who was present in the barge during the whole time. I was not there myself. In his narrative it will be observed that he makes no mention of the natives who came down upon them having _thrown spears_ at them, although in the extract from the "Times" it is so stated. It would appear also that there was some mistake as to the number of men on board of the prahus and the number killed. A war prahu generally contains from fifty to eighty men. Some are smaller, and occasionally they are larger, but not often. Capt. Keppell states fifty men to be the usual number in his work; and, in his conflict with the pirates, estimates the force accordingly. Now the first day there was one war prahu, which ran up a creek; and, on being fired at, the crew deserted her. On the second day there were five prahus, all captured. On the third day the five prahus engaged were not captured, the boat returning to the ship after the captain was wounded; so that in all it appears that there were nine prahus; and, allowing eighty men to each, the force would only amount to 720 men, or about one half of the number stated, viz. 1330. How the killed, amounting to 350, or about half the number, were arrived at and estimated, it is impossible to say; but in the narrative of the officer, which I have given, the major portion of the crews deserted the prahus and got on shore.] Our captain having now nearly recovered from the wound which he had received, we found that our destination was Borneo; but previous to the ship getting under weigh, the boats were ordered to be manned and armed, to proceed on an excursion to Romania Point, distant about thirty miles from Sincapore. It was expected that we might there fall in with some of the piratical vessels which so completely infest the Indian Archipelago; and if so, we trusted to give them a lesson which might for a time put a check to their nefarious and cruel system of plunder and rapine. I found that my name was down in the list of the party selected for the expedition. Bidding, therefore, a temporary adieu to Sincapore, on the 2d of August we set off on the expedition, with a force consisting of two barges, one cutter, and a gun-boat belonging to the merchants of Sincapore, which had been expressly built to resist any attacks of these bold assailants. Although the real object of the expedition was, as I have above stated, to fall in with the pirates, our ostensible one was to survey the islands off the Point Romania, which is the most unfrequented part of the Malay peninsula. We arrived there late at night, as ignorant whether the pirates were there, as the pirates would have been of our arrival. We had, therefore, nothing to do but to anchor close under the land, and keep a sharp look-out, in case of being the attacked instead of the attacking party. As we were not indifferently provided with the creature comforts which Sincapore afforded, we amused ourselves pretty well; but if we occasionally opened our mouths, we took good care not to shut our eyes, and were constantly on the alert. There is a far from pleasant feeling attached to lying in an open boat, in a night as dark as pitch, expecting a momentary attack from an insidious enemy, and wholly in a state of uncertainty as to from what quarter it may be made, or as to what odds you may be exposed. Under these circumstances, we remained in watching and silence during a night which appeared interminably long; and daylight was gladly welcomed by the whole party; and when it arrived we found ourselves anchored among a crowd of small islands, which were covered from the beach to their summits with the most luxuriant foliage. Within shore of us was a beautiful little sandy bay; while the whole coast, as far as the eye could reach, was one extended jungle, by all accounts extending many hundred miles inland, and infested with tigers and other beasts of prey. As for pirates, we saw nothing of them, or any signs of their having been in that quarter; either they were away on some distant marauding party, or, having received intelligence of our approach and force, had considered us too strong to be opposed, and had kept out of the way. Our warlike expedition, therefore, was soon changed into a sort of pic-nic party--we amused ourselves with bathing, turning of turtle, shooting, and eating the wild pine-apples which grew on all the islands. We remained there for three days, during which nothing occurred worth narrating, unless it is an instance of the thoughtless and reckless conduct of midshipmen. We were pulling leisurely along the coast in one of the boats, when we perceived a very large Bengal tiger taking an evening stroll, and who, by the motion of his tail, was evidently in a state of much self-satisfaction. We winded the boat's head towards him, and were preparing to give him a round of grape from the gun, but before we could get the gun well pointed, he retreated majestically into the jungle, which was in the bight of a small bay, and cut off from the main jungle by some large rocks. Three of our party immediately declared that they would have a tiger-hunt, and bring back his skin as a trophy. They landed, two of them having each a ship's musket, a very uncertain weapon, as they are at present provided, for, whether from damp or careless manufacture, the percussion caps will not often go off; and the third armed with nothing but a knife. On their landing, they took their position on the rocks, and were delighted to find that the tiger could not retreat to the main jungle without passing them. They had not long taken up their position before they heard the crackling of the wood in the jungle, announcing the tiger's approach towards them. They fixed their bayonets and cocked their locks; the young gentleman with the knife was also prepared; but the noise in the jungle ceased. Whether it was that the tiger was afraid to attack three at the same time, or was making a circuit for a more convenient spring upon them, certain it is that our three young gentlemen either became tired of waiting for him, or had thought better of their mad attempt. One proposed returning to the boat, the others assented; and after denouncing the tiger as a coward, and wholly unworthy of the name of a royal tiger, they commenced their retreat as the dark set in; gradually their pace quickened, in two minutes they were in a hard trot; at last the panic took them all, and by the time they arrived at the boats they could not speak from want of breath, so hurried had been their retreat. We sincerely congratulated them upon their arrival safe and sound, and having escaped without loss of life and limb from a very mad adventure. I subsequently related this incident to an old Indian sportsman, who told me that my messmates had had a most fortunate escape, as they would have had little or no chance had the tiger made his spring, which he certainly would have done had they remained much longer, and that one of them at least must have been sacrificed. On the morning of the fourth day, the ship, having made sail from Sincapore, hove in sight, and picked us up. The boats were hoisted in, and we steered for Borneo, to complete some surveys on the north-east coast. The island of Borneo, throughout the whole of the N. E. coast, is, with few exceptions, a low land, covered with jungle; but so beautifully verdant does it appear when viewed from some distance, that you would be led to suppose that it was widely cultivated. This idea is, however, soon dispelled on a near approach, when you discover the rich groups of acacias, palms, pandani, and numerous trees as yet unknown, so luxuriant in themselves, but forming one entangled mass, alike impenetrable to European or native. What, in the distant view, we fancied a verdant meadow, where we might relax from our long confinement, and amuse ourselves with recreation, now proved to be ranges of long damp grass, interspersed with swamps, and infested with venomous snakes. In short, I never yet was on a coast which, on arriving on it, promised so much, and, on landing, caused such a series of disappointments to those who love to ramble about, than the coast of Borneo. To the naturalist, however, confined as he is to the shelving beach, there is ample food for employment and research: the island abounds in novel objects of natural history, both in the animal and vegetable kingdom. Nothing certain is as yet ascertained relative to the interior of this immense island, if island it can with propriety be called. From the accounts of the natives (which, however, must be received with due caution), it consists of a large plain, devoid of jungle, and inhabited by cannibals. Two adventurous Dutchmen have latterly set off from Pontiana, the Dutch settlement, on an excursion into the interior; but it is doubtful if they succeed, where so many others have already failed. [Illustration: KEENEY-BALLO. (OOSOKAN BAY, BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] Borneo has but small elevation for so large an island; in the immediate vicinity of Keeney Ballu the country is hilly, but by far the greatest portion of Borneo is but a few feet above the level of the sea. Keeney Ballu is the highest mountain in the island,--its height is estimated at 14,000 feet or more,--and it can be seen at 150 miles distant on a very clear day. It is very singular that there should be a mountain of so great a height rising from an island of otherwise low land. Near Sarawak there is mountainous country, where live the Dyaks, previously described, and a mountain of the name of Santabong, which has already been made mention of. On the S. E. coast of the island we saw no elevation of land of any consequence. I have given a drawing of the mountain of Keeney Ballu, distant forty miles. At this distance, with the aid of the glass, you may perceive the numerous cascades which fall from its summit in every direction. The Dyaks of Borneo imagine that a lake exists at the top of this mountain, and that it is to be their receptacle after death. As the island is in most parts a flat and marshy jungle, extending about 200 miles inland, and the rivers are not rapid, although numerous, it would be presumed, especially as the dews of the night are very heavy, that the island would be fatal to Europeans. Such, however, proved not to be the case. During our repeated visits to the island (a period of nearly two years), we only lost one man, by a most imprudent exposure to the night air, sleeping in an open boat, without the awning being spread, and exposed to a very heavy dew. Borneo abounds with rivers, some of them very fine, running inland for one or two hundred miles. Most of these rivers have been taken possession of and colonised by the various tribes indigenous to the neighbouring isles and continent, to wit, Arabs, Malays, Illanoans, Bughis, the natives of Celebes, Chinese, &c. The reason for this emigration to Borneo is the protection afforded by these rivers; for as all these tribes live entirely by piracy, they here find a safe retreat for themselves and their vessels. How long ago their settlements may have been first made, or what opposition they may have received from the Dyak aborigines, it is impossible to say; but as most of the head men in Borneo claim to be of Arab descent, it may be presumed that many years must have elapsed since the aboriginal tribes of Dyaks and Dusums were dispossessed of the rivers, and driven into the interior. Of these people I shall speak hereafter; there is no doubt but that they were the original inhabitants of the whole island, and that the various tribes I have mentioned are but colonists for piratical purposes. These piratical hordes generally infest the high lands upon the shores of these rivers, which are difficult of navigation; and, moreover, from their numerous branches, their resorts are not very easily discovered. These towns are fortified with stockades, guns of various calibre, and the passage up the river defended by booms or piles of timber, which admit of but one narrow passage for their prahus. It must be understood that these piratical hordes are not only independent of each other, but often at war, in consequence of their spoliations. Some of their chiefs have taken upon them the titles of princes; and one has assumed, as is well known, that of Sultan of Borneo, another of Sooloo,--how far entitled to such a rank it would be difficult to say; but this is certain, that there must be a beginning to every dynasty; and if we trace back far into history, we shall find, both at home and abroad, that most dynasties have had their origin in freebooting on a grand scale,--even the House of Hapsburg itself is derived from no better an origin; and the Sultan of Borneo, whoever he may be, and if a Sultan does exist, some 800 years hence will, by the antiquity of his title, prove his high descent, as the German emperor now does his own. On the 20th of August we came to an anchor at the mouth of the Sarawak river, where we remained three weeks completing some very important surveys. When our work was done, the captain, accompanied by several officers, went up the river. On our arrival at Kuchin, we found the Dido corvette, commanded by Captain Keppell, lying abreast of the town. We also found that Kuchin was at present nearly deserted, as the Dido's boats, with the Phlegethon steamer, and all the native war prahus which could be mustered, had proceeded with Mr. Brooke to the Sakarron, a neighbouring river, to punish some of the mixed tribes who had lately been detected in an act of flagrant piracy. On the change of the tide we started for the Sakarron, with the hope of gaining the Dido's boats, and rendering them some assistance. Our men exerted themselves to the utmost; but it requires time to pull eighty miles; and I will therefore, _en voyage_, explain more fully the cause and the object of the expedition. The river Sakarron, with its tributaries, the Linga and Serebis, have been for a long while in the possession of a proverbial piratical tribe of Malays, governed by chiefs, who are of Arab descent, and much better acquainted with the art of war than those lawless communions are in general. Their towers and fastnesses on the banks of their rivers they have contrived to fortify in a very superior manner. Living wholly by the proceeds of their piratical excursions, and, aware of the efforts made by the European rajah, Mr. Brooke, to put it down, they resolved to take the first opportunity which might offer to show their hostility and contempt to their new-raised enemy. The occasion soon presented itself. Seven of the Kuchin Malays, having ventured in a canoe up the Sakarron river, were all murdered, and their heads cut off, and kept, as usual, as trophies; and the intelligence of this outrage communicated by them to Mr. Brooke, with defiance. Captain Keppell, of the Dido, had just arrived at Sarawak when this news was brought to Mr. Brooke. Captain Keppell had been sent by Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane to the island on purpose to look out for pirates, and to destroy them and their nests wherever he could find them. He therefore gladly offered his assistance to Mr. Brooke to punish these murderous wretches; and the Phlegethon steamer coming in while they were preparing for the expedition, was, of course, added to the force employed. This fortunate accession of strength, assisted by all the Malay war boats which Mr. Brooke could muster, enabled them to give an effectual check to a band of pirates, so numerous and so warlike as to have become most formidable. To proceed:-- That night we anchored with the last of the flood at the entrance of the Sakarron. We had great fear, from the intelligence we had received from time to time, from boats we fell in with on our passage, that we should arrive too late to be partakers of the affray; and so it proved, for the next morning, while proceeding higher up the river, we perceived a large force of native boats coming down with the ebb, and all of them filled to the gunwale with plunder. The Malay and Dyak canoes are made out of a hollowed tree, or, as they are termed in many ports of India, "dug-outs." They are long and narrow, and are capable of being propelled with great swiftness. Although very easy to capsize, they are constantly loaded till so deep that at the least inclination the water pours over the gunwale, and one man is usually employed baling with a scoop made out of a banana leaf. Custom, however, makes them so used to keep the equilibrium, that you often see the Dyaks, whose canoes are similar to the Malays', standing upright and propelling them with their spears. [Illustration: NATIVE BOAT--BORNEO.] The Malay war-boat, or _prahu_, is built of timber at the lower part, the upper is of bamboo, rattan, and kedgang (the dried leaf of the Nepa palm). Outside the bends, about a foot from the water line, runs a strong gallery, in which the rowers sit cross-legged. At the after-part of the boat is a cabin for the chief who commands, and the whole of the vessel is surmounted by a strong flat roof, upon which they fight, their principal weapons being the kris and spear, both of which, to be used with effect, require elbow-room. The Dyak war-boat is a long built canoe, more substantially constructed than the prahu of the Malays, and sufficiently capacious to hold from seventy to eighty men. This also has a roof to fight from. They are generally painted, and the stern ornamented with feathers. Both descriptions of war-boats are remarkably swift, notwithstanding such apparent top-weight. To proceed:-- [Illustration: DYAK WAR PRAHU.] We hove to, to speak to those on board of the canoes, and were informed by them that the pirates had sustained a severe defeat, and that the European force was about to descend the river on their return to Kuchin. As a proof of the victory having been gained, they produced several heads which had been taken in the fight. We proceeded about six miles further up the river, when we discovered the European boats and crews lying at anchor abreast of the smoking ruins of what had been a Malay town. Here we learnt that the pirates had been completely routed, after a desperate resistance, that four large towns had been burnt, and seventy-five brass guns of the country, called leilas, had been captured. The victory, however, had not been gained without loss on our side, and had the pirates been better prepared, we must have suffered much more. Several of the people of Kuchin had been killed, and of Europeans we had to lament the loss of Mr. Wade, first lieutenant of the Dido, and formerly of the Samarang, and Mr. Stewart, one of the residents at Kuchin; the latter gentleman lost his life by an excess of zeal which quite overcame all prudence. Mr. Wade had landed with his men after an attack and capture of a fort, and when in advance received a bullet in the heart. He fell instantly dead; his body was recovered by his shipmates, and borne to the boat, and during a temporary cessation of hostilities was conveyed to the river. His loss was much deplored by his shipmates in both vessels, by whom he was respected as an officer, and beloved as a friend. Mr. Stewart, pulling in advance in a small canoe, with some of the natives belonging to Kuchin, was suddenly pounced upon by three or four of the enemy's prahus full of men. They ran down the canoe, and thus were Mr. Stewart and his companions at their mercy. Mercy!--a wrong term to use when speaking of those who never show any. They were all krissed, to the number of seventeen, in sight of their companions in the other boats, who were too far behind to arrive in time to render them any assistance, although it hardly need be said that every effort was made. The last that was seen of poor Stewart was his body being carried by one of the Dyaks into the jungle by the side of the river, and the fellow was so anxious to obtain the much-valued trophy of a white man's head, that, as he bore it along, he kept his knife sawing at the head to sever it from the body. Indeed, so much do these people value a white man's head, that they will build a separate room on purpose to contain it. Whilst lying at this place, riding to a strong flood tide, a canoe floated past us, in which we could discern two dead bodies; they were both dressed as Malays, and the garments were good. Over the bows of the canoe there hung a handsomely ornamented kris. We tried to hook the canoe with the boat-hook, but the strength of the tide was so great that we could not succeed in securing it, and it floated away with the stream. We presumed that they were the bodies of some of the Malays killed in the recent conflict, who probably inhabited a higher portion of the river, and that they had been put into the canoe by their friends to be carried home, and had been swept away by the tide from not having been securely fastened, for nothing would have induced the enemy thus to make us a present of _two heads_. "We weighed, in company with the steamer and boats, on the same evening, and returned to Kuchin, where we arrived on the following day. The men-of-war boats having been towed by the steamer, we arrived some time before the native prahus belonging to the river, which had accompanied us. On the following day they arrived, and the scene was novel and interesting. They all rounded the point together, dressed out with flags of all descriptions, beating their gongs and tom-toms, and firing blank cartridges from their "Leilas." Highly elated with their victory, and with the plunder which had accompanied it, they celebrated it by all getting excessively drunk that night upon shamsoo. We remained at Kuchin for three days, enjoying Mr. Brooke's hospitality; and during that time it was proposed and arranged that we should pay a visit to the river Loondoo, the residence of a very remarkable tribe of Dyaks under Mr. Brooke's authority; but not being able to fix the exact period for the visit, on that night we returned to the ship. We had not been much more than twenty-four hours on board, when the captain, who had been away, returned at midnight; and, at this unusual hour, ordered all the boats, manned and armed, to be piped away immediately. We were informed that the river Sakarron was again our destination; and at four o'clock in the morning we started, with fourteen days' provisions, and armed to the teeth, to join the Dido's boats at the mouth of the river Morotabis, from thence to be towed with them by the steamer to our destination. The cause of this new expedition was the intelligence that the Arab chief, Serib Saib, who had escaped during the late conflict, had returned to the Sakarron to collect together and re-organize his piratical subjects. We soon arrived at the same spot which we had before visited when the town had been burnt down; but the expedition proved to be one of little interest. Notwithstanding his threats, Serib Saib's confidence gave way at the approach of our force, and he made a precipitate retreat up the river, accompanied by four or five hundred of his warriors. Nevertheless, we continued to force our way up the river, with the expectation that, when fairly at bay, he would make a stand. Our advance was made known to the enemy by fires lighted on the different hills abreast of the boats. This speedy mode of communication is adopted by all the natives in this part of the world. Determined not to abandon the pursuit while a chance remained, we followed the redoubtable Serib Saib for eighty miles up the river, which in some parts was too narrow for our boats' crews to make use of their oars; but all obstacles were overcome in the ardour of the chase. To impede our progress, large trees had been felled so as to fall across the river where it was narrow; but these were removed, and we forced our way on. At last the river, as we approached the source, became little wider than a ditch, the barges grounded, and could proceed no farther; the gigs only could float, and we continued, till, after forty-eight hours of severe labour, we found ourselves at the head of the river; and we also discovered that Serib Saib had escaped, having with his whole force landed, and made his way through the jungle into the interior, leaving at our disposal the forty war canoes which had carried him and his men. To follow him was impossible; so we were obliged to content ourselves with the capture of the war canoes, which were all that we had to show for our exertions. Disappointed, and hungry withal, we were not sorry to find ourselves once more with our heads down the river. I must not omit, however, to narrate a little trick played upon our gallant captain. I have stated that the river was so narrow near its source that we could not use the oars, and the gigs, which continued the pursuit, had to be hauled through the bushes by the boat-hooks. Returning to where the larger boats had been left aground, our bow-man, who was employed shooting the gig along by such aid as the branches of the trees, or the tendrils which hung to them, afforded him, stuck his boat-hook into what appeared to be a suspended ball of moss; but he soon discovered that it was something more, as it was a nest of hornets, which sallied out in great numbers, and resented the insult to their domicile by attacking the bowman first, as the principal aggressor, and us afterwards, as parties concerned. Now the sting of a hornet is no joke; we covered our faces with our handkerchiefs, or any thing we could find, and made a hasty retreat from the spot, pushing the gig down the stream, till we were clear of their attacks. In the hurry of our escape we left the boat-hook hanging in the hornet's nest, and not feeling at all inclined to go back for it, we hailed the captain's gig, which was following us, and requested very humbly that they would be pleased to recover our boat-hook for us, as we could not well re-ascend the stream from the want of it. As we did not mention that it was so peculiarly situated, the captain saw no objection, and as they came to where it hung, his bow-man caught hold of the staff, and wrested it from its position; but this time such force was used that the tendril gave way, and the nest itself fell down into the boat, and the irritated insects poured out their whole force to revenge this second aggression. The insects after all appeared to have a knowledge of the service, for they served out their stings in the same proportion as the prize-money is divided: the captain came in for his full share. Returning rather in a bad humour at having had so long a pull for nothing, we anchored off a fortified Malay town, which went by the name of Bintang, and which had been brought to terms by Captain Keppell on a previous expedition up the river. The people had consequently remained neutral, although it was well known that they were not to be trusted, and that, had we been defeated above and beaten back, they would, in all probability, have attacked us in the rear. As the evening closed in, by way of astonishing the natives, and giving them some idea of our perfect equipment, the boats were directed to give a _feu-de-joie_. Some fifteen guns, with rockets, port-fires, blue lights, supported by a well-sustained roulade of musketry, had a very warlike effect; and, no doubt, gave the natives an impression of our superiority in the use of fire-arms. At the conclusion, Captain Keppell, who was always ready for fun, gave out the order that all hands were to join in "God save the Queen," taking the time from him. A dead silence was immediately produced, waiting for him to lead off, which he did; but, to our great amusement, he, by mistake, commenced with "Rule Britannia;" and this, being more to the seamen's taste, certainly, as far as lungs were concerned, was done most ample justice to. The saying is, "No song no supper;" of course it must be presumed that a song deserves a supper. It proved so in this instance; for just as the chorus was hushed, the Sultan of Bintang, as he styles himself, sent off to the head boat (the one I happened to be in) a superb supper for seven people, consisting of seven bronze trays, each tray containing about a dozen small plates, in which were many varieties of flesh and fowl cooked in a very superior manner. To each tray was a spoon, made of the yellow leaf of some tree unknown; but, as specimens of primitive elegance and utility combined, they were matchless. We had some doubts, from our knowledge of the treachery of the Malays, whether we should fall to upon these appetising viands, as there was no saying but that they might be poisoned. Mr. Brooke, however, who, although not the commandant, was the mentor of the party, explained that he invariably observed one rule when treating and dealing with these people,--which was, never to exhibit any unworthy suspicion of them, as, by so doing, they became convinced of our own integrity and honour. That this confidence might have, in many instances, proved dangerous, unless adopted with great caution, must be admitted; but in our relations with the people on the rivers of Borneo it was of great service. The Malays are so very suspicious themselves, that nothing but confidence on your part will remove the feeling; and, in treating with Malays, this is the first object to be obtained. The remarks of Mr. Brooke, which were not a little assisted by the tempting nature of the viands, and no small degree of hunger, had the effect, and the trays were all cleared out in consequence. While I was in this river I was capsized by a _bore_. This, I must explain to my non-nautical readers, is a huge rolling wave, which is as upright as a wall, and travels almost as fast as a locomotive. It is occasioned by the flood tide pouring in and overcoming the feeders to the river, forcing them back to their source. On this occasion I was pulling down the river in a small gig, following the other boats, which had turned up another branch of it, when I perceived it rapidly advancing, and making a noise not unlike the animal of the same name, only a great deal louder. Had I been steering a straight course down the river I should have faced it, and probably have got off with the boat half full of water; but I calculated upon reaching the point and entering the branch of the river before its arrival. But I had not calculated upon its speed, and a strong eddy current at the point was wicked enough to draw our boat broadside to the middle of the stream. The wall of water rushed on us, turned us over and over; but fortunately by its force it also threw us all, with the gig, upon the point. It did not, however, throw us our oars, which were performing a _pas de quatre_ in a whirlpool close to us. This was a narrow escape, as, had we remained in the agitated waters, the alligators would soon have dragged us under. For two minutes the river was in a state of ebullition, but gradually subsided. We then launched the boat, regained our oars, and proceeded to join our comrades. Thankful as we were for our lives having been preserved, still as we were wet through and had lost all our provisions and necessaries, we were compelled to admit that it was a very great bore. Shortly after our leaving this river a fatal accident happened to one of our best men. The wind was blowing a heavy gale from the westward, accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as is only to be seen and heard on the coast of Borneo. The carpenters were on shore felling trees for masts and yards, and as we were anchored some distance from the shore a tent was pitched for their accommodation. They had not been in the tent long when a large iron-wood tree was struck by lightning, and fell, burying one of the carpenters, Miller by name, in the sand underneath it. He was extricated with great difficulty; but before any surgical assistance could be rendered him he was a corpse. On examination most of his bones were found to be crushed. Soon after our return from the Sakarron the expedition to Loondoo was arranged, and we started in the barge and gig, accompanied by Captain Keppell in his own boat, and Mr. Brooke and Hentig in one of the native boats, called a Tam-bang. The distance was about forty miles, and we should have arrived at four o'clock in the afternoon, but, owing to the narrowness of the channel, and a want of knowledge of the river, we grounded on the flats, where we lay high and dry for the space of four hours. Floating with the following tide, we discovered the proper channel, and found our way up the river, although the night was dark as pitch: when near the town, we anchored for daylight. I may as well here give a slight description of the scenery on the Borneo rivers, all of which, that we have visited, with the exception of the Bruni, bear a close resemblance to each other. They are far from picturesque or beautiful, for the banks are generally low, and the jungle invariably extends to the water's edge. For the first fifteen or twenty miles the banks are lined with the nepa-palms, which then gradually disappear, leaving the mangrove alone to clothe the sides of the stream. When you enter these rivers, it is rare to see any thing like a human habitation for many miles; reach after reach, the same double line of rich foliage is presented, varying only in the description of trees and bushes as the water becomes more fresh; now and then a small canoe may be seen rounding a point, or you may pass the stakes which denote that formerly there had been a fishing station. At last a hut appears on the bank, probably flanked with one or two Banana trees. You turn into the next reach and suddenly find yourself close to one or more populous and fortified towns. As you ascend higher the scenery becomes much more interesting and varied from the mangroves disappearing. Few of the rivers of Borneo are more than eighty miles in extent. The two rivers of Bruni and Coran are supposed to meet in the centre of the island, although for many miles near their source they are not much wider than a common ditch. Before day-light of the following morning our slumbers were disturbed by the crowing of a whole army of cocks, which assured us of the proximity of the town we were in search of. We got under weigh, and, rounding the point, Loondoo hove in sight, a fine town, built in a grove of cocoa-nut trees, and by no means despicably fortified. We found our progress arrested by a boom composed of huge trees fastened together by coir cables, and extending the whole width of the river. Had our intentions been hostile, it would have taken some time to have cut the fastenings of this boom, and we should, during the operation, have been exposed to a double line of fire from two forts raised on each side of the river. The Chief of Loondoo had, however, been duly advised of our intended visit, and as soon as our boats were seen from the town, a head-man was sent out in a canoe to usher us in. After a little delay we got the barge within the boom. When within, we found that we had further reason to congratulate ourselves that we came as friends, as the raking fire from the forts would have been most effectual, for we discovered that we had to pass an inner boom equally well secured as the first. The town was surrounded by a strong stockade made of the trunks of the knee-bone palm, a wood superior in durability to any known. This stockade had but one opening of any dimensions. A few strokes of the oars brought us abreast of it, and we let go our anchors. The eldest son of the Chief came to us immediately in a canoe. He was a splendidly formed young man, about twenty-five years old. He wore his hair long and flowing, his countenance was open and ingenuous, his eyes black and knowing. His dress was a light blue velvet jacket without sleeves, and a many-coloured sash wound round his waist. His arms and legs, which were symmetrical to admiration, were naked, but encircled with a profusion of heavy brass rings. He brought a present of fowls, cocoa-nuts, and bananas to Mr. Brooke from his father, and an invitation for us to pay him a visit at his house whenever we should feel inclined. [Illustration: DYAK WOMEN IN CANOE.] Preparatory to landing, we began performing our ablutions in the boat, much to the amusement and delight of the naked groups of Dyaks who were assembled at the landing place, and who eyed us in mute astonishment. The application of a hair brush was the signal for a general burst of laughter, but cleaning the teeth with a tooth brush caused a scream of wonder, a perfect yell, I presume at our barbarous customs. There were many women among the groups; they appeared to be well made, and more than tolerably good looking. I need not enter into a very minute description of their attire, for, truth to say, they had advanced very little beyond the costume of our common mother Eve. We were soon in closer contact with them, for one of our party throwing out of the boat a common black bottle, half a dozen of the women plunged into the stream to gain possession of it. They swam to the side of our boat without any reserve, and then a struggle ensued as to who should be the fortunate owner of the prize. It was gained by a fine young girl of about seventeen years of age, and who had a splendid pair of black eyes. She swam like a frog, and with her long hair streaming in the water behind her, came pretty well up to our ideas of a mermaid. As we had contrived to empty a considerable number of these bottles during our expedition, they were now thrown overboard in every direction. This occasioned a great increase of the floating party, it being joined by all the other women on the beach, and for more than half an hour we amused ourselves with the exertions and contentions of our charming naiads, to obtain what they appeared to prize so much; at last all our empty bottles were gone, and the women swam on shore with them, as much delighted with their spoil as we had been amused with their eagerness and activity. About 10 o'clock we landed, and proceeded to pay our visit to the Chief. We were ushered into a spacious house, built of wood and thatched with leaves, capable of containing at least 400 people. The Chief was sitting on a mat with his three sons by his side, and attended by all his warriors. The remainder of the space within was occupied by as many of the natives as could find room; those who could not, remained in the court-yard outside. The Chief, who was a fine looking grey-bearded man of about sixty years of age, was dressed in velvet, and wore on his head a turban of embroidered silk. The three sons were dressed in the way I have already described the one to have been who came to us in the canoe. Without exception, those three young men were the most symmetrical in form I have ever seen. The unrestrained state of nature in which these Dyaks live, gives to them a natural grace and an easiness of posture, which is their chief characteristic. After the usual greetings and salutations had been passed through, we all sat down on mats and cushions which had been arranged for us; a short conversation with Mr. Brooke, who speaks the language fluently, then took place between him and the Chief, after which refreshments were set before us. These consisted of various eatables and sweetmeats made of rice, honey, sugar, flour, and oil; and although very simple as a confectionery, they were very palatable. We remained with the Chief about an hour, and before we went away he requested our company in the evening, promising to treat us with a Dyak war dance. We took our leave for the present, and amused ourselves with strolling about the town. I will take this opportunity of making known some information I have at this and at different times obtained relative to this people. The villages of the Dyaks are always built high up, near the source of the rivers, or, should the river below be occupied by the piratical tribes, on the hills adjoining to the source. Their houses are very large, capable of containing two hundred people, and are built of palm leaves. A village or town may consist of fifteen or twenty houses. Several families reside in one house, divided from each other by only a slight partition of mats. Here they take their meals, and employ themselves, without interfering with each other. Their furniture and property are very simple, consisting of a few cooking utensils, the paddles of their canoes, their arms, and a few mats. In all the Dyak villages every precaution is taken to guard against surprise. I have already described the strength and fortifications of Loondoo, and a similar principle is every where adopted. The town being built on the banks of the river, the boom I have described is invariably laid across the stream to prevent the ascent of boats. Commanding the barriers, one or more forts are built on an eminence, mounting within them five or six of the native guns, called leilas. The forts are surrounded by a strong stockade, which is surmounted by a cheveaux-de-frise of split bamboos. These stockaded forts are, with the houses and cocoa nuts adjoining, again surrounded by a strong stockade, which effectually secures them from any night attack. Great respect is paid to the laws and to the mandates of their Chiefs, although it but too often happens that, stimulated by revenge, or other passions, they take the law into their own hands; but if crimes are committed, they are not committed without punishment following them, and some of their punishments are very barbarous and cruel: I have seen a woman with both her hands half-severed at the wrists, and a man with both his ears cut off. The religious ideas of the Dyaks resemble those of the North American Indians: they acknowledge a Supreme Being, or "Great Spirit;" they have also some conception of an hereafter. Many of the tribes imagine that the great mountain Keney Balloo is a place of punishment for guilty departed souls. They are very scrupulous regarding their cemeteries, paying the greatest respect to the graves of their ancestors. When a tribe quits one place to reside at another, they exhume the bones of their relations, and take them with them. I could not discover if they had any marriage ceremony, but they are very jealous of their wives, and visit with great severity any indiscretion on their parts. The Dyaks live principally upon rice, fish, and fruit, and they are very moderate in their living. They extract shamshoo from the palm, but seldom drink it Their principal luxury consists in the chewing the betel-nut and chunam; a habit in which, like all the other inhabitants of these regions, from Arracan down to the island of New Guinea, they indulge to excess. This habit is any thing but becoming, as it renders the teeth quite black, and the lips of a high vermilion, neither of which alterations is any improvement to a copper-coloured face. They both chew and smoke tobacco, but they do not use pipes for smoking; they roll up the tobacco in a strip of dried leaf, take three or four whiffs, emitting the smoke through their nostrils, and then they extinguish it. They are fond of placing a small roll of tobacco between the upper lip and gums, and allow it to remain there for hours. Opium is never used by them, and I doubt if they are acquainted with its properties. They seldom cultivate more land than is requisite for the rice, yams, and sago for their own consumption, their time being chiefly employed in hunting and fishing. They appear to me to be far from an industrious race of people, and I have often observed hundreds of fine-looking fellows lolling and sauntering about, seeming to have no cares beyond the present. Some tribes that I visited preferred obtaining their rice in exchange from others, to the labour of planting it themselves. They are, in fact, not agriculturally inclined, but always ready for barter. They are middle-sized, averaging five feet five inches, but very strong-built and well-conditioned, and with limbs beautifully proportioned. In features they differ very much from the piratical inhabitants of these rivers. The head is finely formed, the hair, slightly shaven in front, is all thrown to the back of the head; their cheek-bones are high, eyes small, black and piercing, nose not exactly flat--indeed in some cases I have seen it rather aquiline; the mouth is large, and lips rather thick, and there is a total absence of hair on the face and eyebrows. Now the above description is not very much unlike that of an African; and yet they are very unlike, arising, I believe, from the very pleasing and frank expression of their countenances, which is their only beauty. This description, however, must not be considered as applicable to the whole of these tribes,--those on the S. E. coast of the island being by no means so well-favoured. [Illustration: SEREBIS DYAK. (N. W. COAST OF BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] The different tribes are more distinguishable by their costumes than by their manners. The Dyaks of Loondoo are quite naked, and cover the arms and legs with brass rings. Those of Serebis and Linga are remarkable for wearing as many as ten to fifteen large rings in their ears. The Dusums, a tribe of Dyaks on the north coast, wear immense rings of solid tin or copper round their hips and shoulders, while the Saghai Dyaks of the S. E. are dressed in tigers' skins and rich cloth, with splendid head-dresses, made out of monkeys' skins and the feathers of the Argus pheasant. [Illustration: TEETH OF DYAKS.] The invariable custom of filing the teeth sharp, combined with the use of the betel-nut turning them quite black, gives their profile a very strange appearance. Sometimes they render their teeth concave by filing. [Illustration: COSTUMES OF DYAK WOMEN.] [Illustration: SUM-PI-TAN--BLOW-PIPE WITH POISONED ARROWS.] Their arms consist of the blow-pipe (sum-pi-tan), from which they eject small arrows, poisoned with the juice of the upas; a long sharp knife, termed pa-rang; a spear, and a shield. They are seldom without their arms, for the spear is used in hunting, the knife for cutting leaves, and the sum-pi-tan for shooting small birds. Their warfare is carried on more by treachery and stratagem than open fighting--they are all warriors, and seldom at peace. The powerful tribes which reside on the banks of the river generally possess several war prahus, capable of holding from twenty to thirty men, and mounting a brass gun (leila) on her bows, carrying a ball of one to two pounds weight. These prahus, when an expedition is to be made against a neighbouring tribe, are manned by the warriors, one or two of the most consequential men being stationed in each prahu. Before they start upon an expedition, like the North American Indians, they perform their war dance. [Illustration: SAGHAI DYAK. (S. E. COAST OF BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] Should their enemies have gained intelligence of the meditated attack, they take the precaution of sending away their women, children, and furniture, into the jungle, and place men in ambush on the banks of the river, who attack the assailants as they advance. The Dyaks are all very brave, and fight desperately, yelling during the combat like the American Indians. The great object in their combats is to obtain as many of the heads of the party opposed as possible; and if they succeed in their surprise of the town or village, the heads of the women and children are equally carried off as trophies. But there is great difficulty in obtaining a head, for the moment that a man falls every effort is made by his own party to carry off the body, and prevent the enemy from obtaining such a trophy. If the attacking party are completely victorious, they finish their work of destruction by setting fire to all the houses, and cutting down all the cocoa-nut trees; after which they return home in triumph with their spoil. As soon as they arrive another war dance is performed; and after making very merry, they deposit the heads which they have obtained in the head-house. Now, putting scalps for heads, the reader will perceive that their customs are nearly those of the American Indians. Every Dyak village has its head-house: it is generally the hall of audience as well. The interior is decorated with heads piled up in pyramids to the roof: of course the greater the number of heads the more celebrated they are as warriors. [Illustration: DYAK VILLAGE.] The women of the north-east coast are by no means bad-looking, but very inferior to the mountain Dyaks before described. I have seen one or two faces which might be considered as pretty. With the exception of a cloth, which is secured above the hips with a hoop of rattan, and descends down to the knees, they expose every other portion of their bodies. Their hair, which is fine and black, generally falls down behind. Their feet are bare. Like the American squaws, they do all the drudgery, carry the water, and paddle the canoes. They generally fled at our approach, if we came unexpectedly. The best looking I ever saw was one we captured on the river Sakarron. She was in a dreadful fright, expecting every moment to be killed, probably taking it for granted that we had our head-houses to decorate as well as their husbands. While lying off the town of Baloongan, expecting hostilities to ensue, we observed that the women who came down to fill their bamboos with water were all armed. And now to resume the narrative of our proceedings:-- I stated that after our interview with the old chief, and promising to return in the evening to witness a war dance, we proceeded on a stroll, accompanied by the chiefs eldest son, who acted as our guide, and followed by a large party of the natives. We first examined the forts: these were in a tolerable state of efficiency, but their gunpowder was coarse and bad. We next went over the naval arsenal, for being then at peace with every body, their prahus were hauled up under cover of sheds. One of them was a fine boat, about forty feet long, mounting a gun, and capable of containing forty or fifty men. She was very gaily decorated with paint and feathers, and had done good service on the Sakarron river in a late war. These war prahus have a flat strong roof, from which they fight, although they are wholly exposed to the spears and arrows of the enemy. We then invaded their domestic privacy, by entering the houses, and proceeded to an inspection of the blacksmith's shop, where we found the chiefs youngest son, with his velvet jacket thrown aside, working away at a piece of iron, which he was fashioning into a pa-rang, or Dyak knife. The Dyak pa-rang has been confounded with the Malay kris, but they differ materially. The Dyaks, I believe, seldom use the kris, and the Malays never use the knife; and I observed, when we visited the south coast of Borneo, that the knife and other arms of the tribes inhabiting this portion, were precisely similar to those of the Dyaks on the northern coast. Customs so universal and so strictly adhered to proves not only individuality, but antiquity. Having examined every thing and every body, we were pretty well tired, and were not sorry that the hour had now arrived at which we were again to repair to the house of the rajah. On our arrival we found the rajah where we left him, and all the chief men and warriors assembled. Refreshments had been prepared for us, and we again swallowed various mysterious confections, which, as I before observed, would have been very good if we had been hungry. As soon as the eatables had been despatched, we lighted our cheroots, and having, by a dexterous and unperceived application out of a brandy bottle, succeeded in changing the rajah's lemonade into excellent punch, we smoked and drank until the rajah requested to know if we were ready to witness the promised war dance. Having expressed our wishes in the affirmative, the music struck up; it consisted of gongs and tom-toms. The Malay gong, which the Dyaks also make use of, is like the Javanese, thick with a broad rim, and very different from the gong of the Chinese. Instead of the clanging noise of the latter, it gives out a muffled sound of a deep tone. The gong and tom-tom are used by the Dyaks and Malays in war, and for signals at night, and the Dyaks procure them from the Malays. I said that the music struck up, for, rude as the instruments were, they modulate the sound, and keep time so admirably, that it was any thing but inharmonious. A space was now cleared in the centre of the house, and two of the oldest warriors stepped into it. They were dressed in turbans, long loose jackets, sashes round their waists descending to their feet, and small bells were attached to their ankles. They commenced by first shaking hands with the rajah, and then with all the Europeans present, thereby giving us to understand, as was explained to us, that the dance was to be considered only as a spectacle, and not to be taken in its literal sense, as preparatory to an attack upon us, a view of the case in which we fully coincided with them. [Illustration: WAR DANCE OF THE DYAKS. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS] This ceremony being over, they rushed into the centre and gave a most unearthly scream, then poising themselves on one foot they described a circle with the other, at the same time extending their arms like the wings of a bird, and then meeting their hands, clapping them and keeping time with the music. After a little while the music became louder, and suddenly our ears were pierced with the whole of the natives present joining in the hideous war cry. Then the motions and the screams of the dancers became more violent, and every thing was working up to a state of excitement by which even we were influenced. Suddenly a very unpleasant odour pervaded the room, already too warm from the numbers it contained. Involuntarily we held our noses, wondering what might be the cause, when we perceived that one of the warriors had stepped into the centre and suspended round the shoulders of each dancer a human head in a wide meshed basket of rattan. These heads had been taken in the late Sakarron business, and were therefore but a fortnight old. They were encased in a wide net work of rattan, and were ornamented with beads. Their stench was intolerable, although, as we discovered upon after examination, when they were suspended against the wall, they had been partially baked and were quite black. The teeth and hair were quite perfect, the features somewhat shrunk, and they were altogether very fair specimens of pickled heads; but our worthy friends required a lesson from the New Zealanders in the art of preserving. The appearance of the heads was the signal for the music to play louder, for the war cry of the natives to be more energetic, and for the screams of the dancers to be more piercing. Their motions now became more rapid, and the excitement in proportion. Their eyes glistened with unwonted brightness. The perspiration dropped down their faces, and thus did yelling, dancing, gongs, and tom-toms become more rapid and more violent every minute, till the dancing warriors were ready to drop. A farewell yell, with emphasis, was given by the surrounding warriors; immediately the music ceased, the dancers disappeared, and the tumultuous excitement and noise was succeeded by a dead silence. Such was the excitement communicated, that when it was all over we ourselves remained for some time panting to recover our breath. Again we lighted our cheroots and smoked for a while the pipe of peace. A quarter of an hour elapsed and the preparations were made for another martial dance. This was performed by two of the rajah's sons, the same young men I have previously made mention of. They came forward each having on his arm one of the large Dyak shields, and in the centre of the cleared space were two long swords lying on the floor. The ceremony of shaking hands, as described preparatory to the former dance, was first gone through; the music then struck up and they entered the arena. At first they confined themselves to evolutions of defence, springing from one side to the other with wonderful quickness, keeping their shields in front of them, falling on one knee and performing various feats of agility. After a short time, they each seized a sword, and then the display was very remarkable, and proved what ugly customers they must be in single conflict. Blows in every direction, feints of every description, were made by both, but invariably received upon the shields. Cumbrous as these shields were, no opening was ever left, retreating, pursuing, dodging, and striking, the body was never exposed. Occasionally, during this performance, the war cry was given by the surrounding warriors, but the combatants held their peace; in fact they could not afford to open their mouths, lest an opening should be made. It was a most masterly performance, and we were delighted with it. As the evening advanced into night, we had a sort of extemporary drama, reminding us of one of the dances, as they are called, of the American Indians, in which the warriors tell their deeds of prowess. This was performed by two of the principal and oldest warriors, who appeared in long white robes, with long staves in their hands. They paraded up and down the centre, alternately haranguing each other; the subject was the praise of their own rulers, a relation of their own exploits, and an exhortation to the young warriors to emulate their deeds. This performance was most tedious; it lasted for about three hours, and, as we could not understand a word that was said, it was not peculiarly interesting. It, however, had one good effect: it sent us all asleep. I fell asleep before the others, I am told; very possible. I certainly woke up the first, and on waking, found that all the lights were out, and that the rajah and the whole company had disappeared, with the exception of my European friends, who were all lying around me. My cheroot was still in my mouth, so I re-lighted it and smoked it, and then again lay down by the side of my companions. Such was the wind-up of our visit to the rajah, who first excited us by his melodramas, and then sent us to sleep with his recitations. The next morning, at daylight, we repaired to our boats, and when all was ready took leave of the old rajah. The rajah's eldest son had promised to accompany us to the mouth of the river, and show us how the natives hunted the wild pigs, which are very numerous in all the jungles of Borneo. We got under weigh and proceeded down the river accompanied by a large canoe, which was occupied by the rajah's son, six or seven hunters, and a pack of the dogs used in hunting the wild boar on this island. These dogs were small, but very wiry, with muzzles like foxes, and curling tails. Their hair was short, and of a tan colour. Small as they are, they are very bold, and one of them will keep a wild pig at bay till the hunters come up to him. [Illustration: OBTAINING FIRE.] We arrived at the hunting ground at the mouth of the river in good time, before the scent was off, and landed in the _Tam-bang_. Our captain having a survey to make of an island at the mouth of the river, to our great delight took away the barge and gig, leaving Mr. Brooke, Hentig, Captain Keppell, Adams, and myself, to accompany the rajah's son. Having arranged that the native boat should pull along the coast in the direction that we were to walk, and having put on board the little that we had collected for our dinners, we shouldered our guns and followed the hunters and dogs. The natives who accompanied us were naked, and armed only with a spear. They entered the jungle with the dogs, rather too fatiguing an exercise for us, and we contented ourselves with walking along the beach abreast of them, waiting very patiently for the game to be started. In a very few minutes the dogs gave tongue, and as the noise continued we presumed that a boar was on foot; nor were we wrong in our conjecture; the barking of the dogs ceased, and one of the hunters came out of the jungle to us with a fine pig on his back, which he had transfixed with his spear. Nor were we long without our share of the sport, for we suddenly came upon a whole herd which had been driven out of the jungle, and our bullets did execution. We afterwards had more shots, and with what we killed on the beach, and the natives secured in the jungle, as the evening advanced we found ourselves in possession of eight fine grown animals. These the rajah's son and his hunters very politely requested our acceptance of. We now had quite sufficient materials for our dinner, and as we were literally as hungry as hunters, we were most anxious to fall to, and looked upon our pigs with very cannibal eyes. The first thing necessary was to light a fire, and for the first time I had an opportunity of seeing the Dyak way of obtaining it. It differs slightly from the usual manner, and is best explained by a sketch. Captain Keppell, who was always the life and soul of every thing, whether it was a fight or a pic nic, was unanimously elected caterer, and in that capacity he was most brilliant. I must digress a little to bestow upon that officer the meed of universal opinion; for his kindness, mirth, and goodness of heart, have rendered him a favourite wherever he has been known, not only a favourite with the officers, but even more so, if possible, with the men. In the expeditions in which Keppell has been commanding officer, where the men were worn out with continued exertion at the oar, and with the many obstacles to be overcome, Keppell's voice would be heard, and when heard, the men were encouraged and renewed their endeavours. Keppell's stock, when provisions were running short, and with small hopes of a fresh supply, was freely shared among those about him, while our gallant captain, with a boat half filled with his own hampers, would see, and appeared pleased to see, those in his company longing for a mouthful which never would be offered. If any of the youngsters belonging to other ships were, from carelessness or ignorance, in trouble with the commanding officers, it was to Keppell that they applied, and it was Keppell who was the intercessor. In fact, every occasion in which kindness, generosity, or consideration for others could be shown, such an opportunity was never lost by Keppell, who, to sum up, was a beloved friend, a delightful companion, and a respected commander. As soon as our fire was lighted, we set to, under Keppell's directions, and, as may be supposed, as we had little or nothing else, pork was our principal dish. In fact, we had pig at the top, pig at the bottom, pig in the centre, and pig at the sides. A Jew would have made but a sorry repast, but we, emancipated Christians, made a most ravenous one, defying Moses and all his Deuteronomy. We had plenty of wine and segars, and soon found ourselves very comfortably seated on the sand, still warm from the rays of the burning mid-day sun. Towards the end of a long repast we felt a little chilly, and we therefore rose and indulged in the games of leap-frog, fly-the-garter, and other venturous amusements. We certainly had in our party one or two who were as well fitted to grace the senate as to play at leap-frog, but I have always observed that the cleverest men are the most like children when an opportunity is offered for relaxation. I don't know what the natives thought of the European Rajah Brooke playing at leap-frog, but it is certain that the rajah did not care what they thought. I have said little of Mr. Brooke, but I will now say that a more mild, amiable, and celebrated person I never knew. Every one loved him, and he deserved it. After we had warmed ourselves with play, we lighted an enormous fire to keep off the mosquitoes, and made a bowl of grog to keep off the effects of the night air, which is occasionally very pernicious. We smoked and quaffed, and had many a merry song and many a witty remark, and many a laugh about nothing on that night. As it is highly imprudent to sleep in the open air in Borneo, at ten o'clock we broke up and went to repose in the boats under the spread awnings. Just as we were selecting the softest plank we could find for a bed, we had an alarm which might have been attended with fatal consequences. I omitted to mention that when we rose to part and go into the boats, one of the party threw a lighted brand out of the fire at the legs of another; this compliment was returned, and as it was thought very amusing, the object being to leap up and let the brand pass between your legs, by degrees all the party were engaged in it, even the rajah and the natives joined in the sport, and were highly amused with it, although with bare legs they stood a worse chance of being hit than we did. At last the brands were all expended and the fire extinct, and then, as I said, we went away to sleep under the boats' awnings. We were in the act of depositing our loaded rifles by our sides in a place of security, when the unearthly war cry rose in the jungle, and in the stillness of the night these discordant screams sounded like the yelling of a legion of devils. Immediately afterwards a body of natives rushed from the jungle in the direction of the boats, in which we supposed that our European party were all assembled. Always on our guard against treachery, and not knowing but that these people might belong to a hostile band, in an instant our rifles were in our hands and pointed at the naked body of natives, who were now within twenty yards of us. Mr. Hentig was on the point of firing, when loud shouts of laughter from the Dyaks arrested his hand, and we then perceived that Mr. Brooke and others were with the natives, who enjoyed the attempt to intimidate us. It was fortunate that it ended as it did; for had Mr. Hentig been more hasty, blood must have been shed in consequence of this native practical joke. We joined the laugh, however, laid down our rifles, then laid ourselves down, and went fast asleep, having no further disturbance than the still small voice of the mosquito, which, like that of conscience, is one that "murders sleep." The following morning we bade adieu to our friendly hunting party, and I must not here omit to mention a trait of honesty on the part of the Dyaks. I had dropped my pocket handkerchief in the walk of the day before, and in the evening it was brought to me by one of the natives, who had followed a considerable distance to bring it to me. It must be known, that a coloured silk handkerchief is to one of these poor Dyaks, who are very fond of finery, an article of considerable value. He might have retained it without any fear; and his bringing it to me was not certainly with any hope of reward, as I could have given him nothing which he would have prized so much as the handkerchief itself. He was made a present of it for his honesty. We bade farewell to our friends at Kuchin, and continued our survey on the coast. The boats were now continually employed away from the ship, which moved slowly to the westward. At this time exposure and hard work brought the fever into the ship. The barge returned in consequence of four of her men being taken with it, and our sick list increased daily. A few days afterwards the coxswain of the barge died, and was buried along side the same morning. This death, after so short an illness, damped the spirits of the officers and men, particularly of those who were ill. After this burial we sailed for Sincapore. At this time our sick report contained the names of more than thirty men, with every probability of the number being increased; but, thanks to God, from change of air, fresh provisions, and a little relaxation from the constant fatigue, the majority were in a short time convalescent. On the 25th of September we arrived at Sincapore. [Illustration: VIEW OF SINCAPORE.] From the anchorage the town of Sincapore has a very pleasing appearance. Most of the public buildings, as well as some of the principal merchants' houses, face the sea. The church is also close to the beach, I presume to allow the congregation the benefit of the sea breezes. It has no architectural beauty to recommend it, being a plain building with a spiral steeple, surmounted by a cross. The interior is fitted up with more regard to neatness than elegance. It has an organ, and is supplied with a host of young choristers from the academy. Between the beach and Government Hill is a delightful upland, which is generally attended by all the beauty and fashion of Sincapore in the cool of the evening. A canal or small river divides the town into two parts. On the western side of it, stand all the stone houses of the merchants, and it is here that all commercial business is transacted. It is densely populated with Armenian Jews, Chinese, and people from every part of India, each nation residing in its own quarter, in the houses peculiar to and characteristic of their country. Indeed, one of the first things that strikes the stranger in Sincapore is the variety of costume; Chinamen, Malays and Indians, Armenians and Jews, all mingle together in every variety of picturesque costume, giving you an idea of a carnival. The palanquins resemble an omnibus on a small scale, they are drawn on four wheels, have a door on either side, and seats for four people. They are very high, and drawn by one horse. The conductors, however, are not perched up on high, but run by the side of the horse, as do all the syces in India. There are two hotels, the proprietors of which are of course rivals. One is kept by an Englishman, the other by a Frenchman; both are equally attentive, but the Frenchman's house has the preference, in consequence of its superior locality, facing the esplanade, and looking upon the sea. The governor's house is situated on the summit of a hill, about a quarter of a mile from the beach. From it you have a bird's eye view of the whole town, and also of the country in the interior for some distance. From this eminence the town has a very picturesque appearance; the houses on the east side of the river (the May fair of Sincapore), are built apart and surrounded by pretty gardens and lawns; beyond this you have the roads and the sea studded with every variety of vessels; and the island of Binting rises from sea in the distance. The interior is not without beauty: the eye ranges over a vast expanse of grove and forest, interspersed with plantations of nutmegs, cinnamon, cloves, and sugar canes, and from which a most delightful perfume is brought by the breeze, while here and there white houses may be perceived, looking like mere specks in the dark foliage by which they are surrounded. It is surprising, when we reflect how short a space of time has passed since this settlement was first made, how such a mass of building and such a concourse of people can have been collected. It certainly does appear strange, but it is no less true, that no nation can colonise like the English, and I have often made that remark in my wanderings and visitings of the various parts of the globe. England fills the world and civilises the world with her redundant population, and all her colonies flourish, and remind you of a swarm of bees which have just left the old hive and are busy in providing for themselves. The Dutch colonies are not what you can call thriving; they have not the bustle, the enterprise, and activity which our colonies possess. The Dutch have never conciliated the natives, and obtained their goodwill; they have invariably resorted to violence, and to a disregard of justice. One would have thought that the French, from their _bonhomie_, would have been one of the very best nations to civilise, and certain to have succeeded; but such is not the case. What can be the cause of this, if it be not that, instead of raising the character of the native population by good example and strict justice, they demoralise by introducing vices hitherto unknown to them, and alienate them by injustice? There was an outcry raised at the French taking possession of Taheite, as if any attempt on their part to colonise was an infringement on our right as Englishmen of universal colonisation. I think if we were wise, we should raise no objection to their colonising as much as they please. The whole expence of founding the colony, raising the fortifications, and building the towns, and, if I may use the phrase, of settling every thing, may safely be left to them. If a war breaks out, they will have done a great deal of expensive work for our benefit, as we are certain then to take possession. Algiers has cost an enormous sum to France, and will cost still more, and yet it can hardly be considered as a colony. It is a military possession, an African barrack, no more; and what will be the result in case of the breaking out of hostilities? Their possession of Algiers will be most advantageous to England, for defend it they will with all their power. We, with Gibraltar as a rendezvous, shall of course have a most favourable position for assailing it, and the consequence will be, that the whole focus of the war will be drawn away from our own coasts, and the Mediterranean will be the arena of all the fighting. The struggle must be before the Pillars of Hercules. The more we increase our fleets, the larger must her force be, and she will have no squadron to spare to send out to annoy our trade and colonial possessions. But as this is a digression, and has nothing to do with my narrative, I beg pardon and go on. We found that the Dido had anchored there before us, and had received her orders to proceed to England. Oh! how we envied her good fortune; and surely if envy is a base passion, in this instance it becomes ennobled by the feelings of home and country which excite it. The Dido left on the 10th, and we regretted the loss of Captain Keppell most deeply. Many merchant vessels had been lately wrecked on the north coast of Borneo, and their crews made prisoners by the pirate hordes. Some of the vessels had had females on board, who had not been heard of since. A letter from a master of a merchant vessel was received by the authorities at Sincapore, wherein it was stated on oath, that, having lately put into the port of Ambong, in Borneo, an European woman had been seen near one of the huts of the village; but that on their approach, she disappeared. This account was corroborated by the evidence of some Lascar seamen, who formed a portion of the crew of the vessel. The contents of this letter being forwarded by the authorities to our gallant captain, he determined upon proceeding to Ambong, accompanied by our old ally, the Phlegethon steamer. Fortunately the town lay in our track, as we were about to proceed to Labuan, and from thence to Manilla. We again weighed anchor for Sarawak, whither the steamer had already proceeded. On our arrival at the mouth of the river we anchored, and the captain went up in his gig. The following day, to our great surprise, we received an intimation that we might make a party of pleasure (a party quite unknown in the Samarang), and go up to Kuchin. We hurried away before the captain had time to repent his indulgence, and set off, some seven or eight of us, in the cutter, and pulled away as fast as we could, till we were first out of hail, and then out of sight, when we considered that we were safe. I have already stated that the native houses are built on the left side of the Sarawak river, and those of the Europeans on the right. These latter are pretty commodious little bungalows, built of cedar and pine wood. At present there are but three, belonging to Mr. Brooke, Mr. Williamson the interpreter, and Hentig, a merchant who has lately settled there. Ruppell, Mr. Brooke's superintendent, and Treecher, the surgeon, live in a large house on the native side of the river. Each of these European houses has its chatty bath adjoining to it, and this luxury is indulged in at all hours of the day. At nine o'clock a gong summons all the Europeans to the breakfast table of Mr. Brooke. When breakfast is over, they all separate, either to follow business or pleasure, and seldom meet again till six in the evening, when dinner is served, and the time is passed away till all retire to bed. Let me describe the view from the front of Mr. Brooke's house:--The schooner lying half way across the river is the Julia, belonging to Mr. Brooke: she sails every month for Sincapore, laden with antimony ore; and thus, at the same time, she forms a mail-packet between Sincapore and Kuchin. The large open building, with a wharf, leading down to the river, is the store in which the antimony is sifted, smelted, and weighed. On the point near the bend of the river is the fort. It is a strong building of large timbers, and mounts eight 24-lb. iron guns, in very excellent condition. This is a very necessary defence, as the European rajah has many enemies. The building whose top just appears above the trees is the Chinese joss-house, or temple; for there are many Chinese settlers at Kuchin, who are very useful in their capacities of carpenters, blacksmiths, and agriculturists. Sweeping with the eye a range of dwelling houses built on stakes, you stop at one of tolerable proportions, which has a platform in front of it, on which are mounted about twenty small guns, and there is a flag-staff, on which is hoisted a red and yellow flag: that is the palace of Rajah Muda Hassan. Take a canoe, and cross over to it. You will find Muda sitting cross-legged in the centre of it: he shakes hands with you, and offers you cigars and tea. You will also meet his brother, Bud-ruddeen. You take your leave of the rajah, and amuse yourself with a walk round the town, during which you examine the natives and their wives, their customs, their houses, and their gardens. With the exception of the more civilised tribes in the vicinity of the Sarawak, the Malays who inhabit the coast of Borneo are a cruel, treacherous, and disgusting race of men, with scarcely one good quality to recommend them. The numerous tribes of these people are separately governed, either by a rajah or petty sultan. Their laws are much more respected than would be supposed in a country where every man is armed, and is a robber by profession. The dress of the Malay is very uniform, consisting of a loose jacket, a sash, and trousers: in some parts a cloth is worn round the head; in others, a hat, made of leaves or rattan. Their arms are the kris and spear; occasionally they carry the sum-pi-tan, and poisoned arrows. Their houses are built upon stakes, probably for the sake of cleanliness; as the flooring consists of a kind of grating made of rattan, all dirt falls through. The houses are small, and contain but one family, and, like those of the Dyaks, are built of the lightest materials. The Malays pretend to Mahomedanism, and there is generally a large empty building in every town which is dignified with the name of a mosque: on the outside are hung drums or tom-toms, of huge dimensions, which are used as gentle reminders of the hours of prayer. I have already stated that these Malay tribes live almost wholly by piracy, to carry on which each town possesses several large prahus, which they man, and send out to intercept any unfortunate junk or other vessel incapable of much resistance, which fate or the currents may have driven too near their coast. When the vessels are captured the cargoes are deposited in their warehouses, the vessels are broken up, and the crews are retained as slaves, to dig yams or pound paddy. Unless they are irritated by a desperate resistance, or they attack an inimical tribe, they do not shed blood, as has generally been supposed; restrained, however, by no other feeling than that of avarice, for the slaves are too valuable to be destroyed. In their physiognomy these Malays are inferior to the Dyaks: they have a strong resemblance to the monkey in face, with an air of low cunning and rascality most unprepossessing. In stature they are very low, and generally bandy-legged. Their hair and eyes are invariably black, but the face is, in most cases, devoid of hair; when it does grow, it is only at the extreme point of the chin. The Borneo Malay women are as plain as the men, although at Sincapore, Mauritius, and the Sooloos, they are well favoured; and they wind their serang, or robe, so tight round their bodies, that they walk in a very constrained and ungainly fashion. Many of these tribes are intermixed with the natives of the Celebes, such as the inhabitants of Sooloo. [Illustration: MALAY WOMAN.] The Malays deal with criminals in a very summary manner, the knowledge of which prevents many crimes among this semi-barbarous people. Robbers, for the first offence, lose their right hand; for the second they undergo the penalty of death. When we were at Kuchin a Chinaman was convicted of selling sam-schoo without permission: his goods were confiscated for a time, to be redeemed only by his good behaviour. I am not acquainted with their punishments for minor offences, except in the above instance; but I believe it is generally by fine. Every rajah holds despotic sway over the inhabitants of his province, and punishes as he thinks proper, without reference to any tribunal, even in cases where the sentence is death. The method of executing criminals with the kris is as follows:--He is made to sit down in a chair, with his arms extended horizontally, and held in that position by two men. The executioner, who stands behind him, inserts his kris above the collar-bone, in a perpendicular manner, which causes instant death, as the weapon enters the heart. [Illustration: MALAY CHIEF. (SOOLOO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] The following anecdote, related to me by some of the Roche people, may amuse the reader:--A celebrated Malay pirate, whose sanguinary deeds had filled the Archipelago with terror, became violently enamoured with one of the slaves of a rajah living on the river Sarawak. After vainly endeavouring to obtain her from her master by offers of money and entreaties, he lay in wait for her, and ran away with her into the jungle. He had hardly passed his honeymoon before the rajah discovered his retreat, and he sent to the Malay to inform him, that, if he would make his appearance at the audience upon a certain day, he should have justice done him. The Malay chief, who was a man of undaunted courage, and who felt confident that the reputation he had acquired by his piratical exploits was alone sufficient to awe his enemies, consented to appear, hoping that arrangements might be made which would permit him to leave the jungle, and allow him to enjoy his new bride in quiet. On the day appointed he appeared before the council, armed, and accompanied by his brother, both resting their hands upon the handles of their krisses, a movement which among the Malays proclaims no feelings of amity. In this attitude of preparation they walked into the audience room, which was crowded with a host of enemies. The council decided, that if on a certain day he would produce a specified sum of money the girl should be his, and he should return unmolested. The sum named was exorbitant, but the Malay chief agreed to the payment, and was permitted to depart. When the day of payment arrived, the council sat as before, and the Malay chief again made his appearance; but this time he came alone, his brother being absent on a piratical expedition. He had, in consequence of his violent affection for the girl, made every attempt to raise the stipulated sum, but could not succeed. He brought all that he could collect, but it fell far short of the sum which had been agreed upon, and he requested time to procure the remainder. The council consulted a while, and then stipulated, that the chief, not having brought the sum agreed upon, should leave his kris as a pledge till the rest should be forthcoming. The kris that the chief wore was itself of great value, very handsomely ornamented with precious stones. It had belonged to his ancestors, and was, as they always are, highly prized, and they knew that it would, if possible, be reclaimed. The chief was most reluctant to part with it, but his love for his mistress overcame his scruples, and also his prudence, for it left him unarmed amidst his implacable enemies. He pulled out his kris, and laid it on the table upon the money, and was busy disengaging the sheath to add to it, when, by a signal from the rajah, he was seized from behind. He started up, but it was too late; his trusty weapon, which had so often stood by him in his need, was no longer within his reach, and he was in a moment transfixed with a dozen blades, falling a victim to his love of the girl and the treachery of his foes. After passing two very pleasant days at Kuchin, we prepared to descend the river. I have omitted to say that Mr. Treecher, the surgeon, was fond of natural history, and possessed a very tolerable collection of birds, and other animals indigenous to the country. I was shown several skeletons of the orang outang, some of which were of great size. There is no want of these animals in the jungle, but a living specimen is not easy to procure; I saw but one, an adult female, belonging to Mr. Brooke. It was very gentle in its manners, and, when standing upright, might have measured three feet six inches. [Illustration: PROBOSCIS MONKEY.] On board of the Phlegethon there were two specimens of the wa-wa, or long-armed ape, which had been presented to Mr. Brooke by one of the neighbouring rajahs, and they are by the natives considered very valuable. Their affection when domesticated is remarkable; their first act when they meet one they know is to leap upon your breast and embrace you with their arms, just like a child will its mother, and they will remain, if permitted, in this position for hours, and complain if removed. Their cry is very plaintive, and, heard at night in the jungle, sounds like that of a female in distress. I was given to understand that in the presents made by chiefs, a scarce variety of monkey is often the principal gift, and most esteemed. The scarcest monkey in Borneo is the proboscis, or long-nosed. I saw but two specimens of this animal, one a female, with the nose very long, and pendulous at the extremity; the other a male, very young, and with the nose more or less prominent, and giving its face a more actual resemblance to that of a man's than I had ever before seen. This monkey has never, I believe, been brought to England alive. The British Museum has a stuffed specimen. It is not so mischievous in its habits as the tribe in general. As Rajah Muda Hassan has been so frequently mentioned, it may be as well to give a succinct outline of his history. At the death of the late sultan, Muda Hassan was the heir-apparent to the throne, but he resigned in favour of his nephew, retaining the office of prime minister, which office he had held during the former reign, not only to the satisfaction of the sultan, but also of the people, with whom he was deservedly a great favourite. His influence, being even greater than that of the sultan, occasioned a jealous feeling, and a contention of party, which induced Muda Hassan to retire to Sarawak with his wives and personal attendants. He was succeeded in his office of prime minister by an Arab, Pangeran Usop, a man of unbounded ambition, who by his harsh and tyrannical conduct soon became hated by the Brunese, who longed for the return of Muda Hassan, under whose sway they had been quiet and happy. Pangeran Usop, aware of the popular feeling, now considered Muda Hassan as his enemy, and took every opportunity of vilifying and creating suspicion of Muda Hassan on the mind of the sultan, who was little better than an idiot. He asserted that Muda Hassan and his brother Bud-ruddeen were leagued with the English, and were their only supporters in their pretensions to the isle of Labuan, and that they would assist the English in taking possession of Borneo. These reports, although at first treated with disdain, continually repeated had their effect, not only upon the sultan, but upon the people; and Muda Hassan, who was informed of what had been going on, and had not deigned to notice it, now considered that it was advisable to repair to Borneo, and refute the charges brought against him. When Mr. Brooke purchased the rajahship and mines of Sarawak, he agreed to compensate Muda with a life annuity of two or three hundred per annum, and give him a passage to his native city, Bruni, whenever he should feel disposed to leave Kuchin. Some time had now elapsed since the signing of the contract, during which Muda had remained at his palace at Kuchin, enjoying his income, and living on the very best terms with the Europeans. He now, however, expressed a wish to return to Bruni, and as it was Mr. Brooke's intention to proceed to that port in the Samarang, it was proposed that the Phlegethon steamer should embark Muda and his suite, and that on our arrival at Bruni we should see this rajah and his brother Bud-ruddeen installed in their positions which by their birth they were entitled to. Another object was in view, and expected to be gained by this step. Up to the present, no efforts had been made by the Bornean government to discountenance piracy; on the contrary, the plunder of the pirates was brought in and openly disposed of at Bruni, which is the royal residence. Muda and his brother Bud-ruddeen were stanch friends to the English, and it was anticipated that by their being appointed to offices of power, and forcing the sultan to a treaty to put down piracy, and pay respect to the English flag, a very important advance would be made towards the extermination of these marauders, and commerce, once rendered secure, and property respected, Borneo would soon be brought to a state of comparative civilisation. As soon as the two rajahs, with all their wives and suite, &c., could be got on board of the Phlegethon, Mr. Brooke, and Mr. Williamson the interpreter, came on board the Samarang, and we sailed. On our arrival at the island of Labuan, we anchored the ship, and despatched the steamer, with her cargo, up to Bruni. The captain of the Samarang and one or two officers proceeded up to Bruni in the barge on the following day; and I was the midshipman in charge of the boat. We did not arrive at the city till 8 o'clock in the evening; and it was too dark to distinguish the houses. With some difficulty, we discovered the steamer, which was anchored on the main street. We pulled alongside, and landing the captain and Kuchinians, Adams, the surgeon of the party, and I, found ourselves in undisturbed possession of the barge. [Illustration: BRUNI. (BORNEO PROPER.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] Bruni is called by Crawfurd the Venice of the East; and he is so far correct, that it is built in the same peculiar way, and is a most extraordinary town. It is built almost entirely on the water. It is of great size, containing from thirty to forty thousand inhabitants, most of whom are Malays, but who, from having so long intermixed with the tribes on the coast, now style themselves Brunese, after the town. This town, which is situated where the river forms a wide and shallow estuary, is built with little regard to regularity. There are, however, two large main streets, intersecting each other in the form of an irregular cross. These divide the town into four parts, one of which is partly built upon terra firma, while the other three portions are composed of massive wooden houses, built on piles, and just sufficiently separated here and there to admit of the passage of a canoe. On the portion which is on dry land is built the sultan's palace, a church or mosque, and most of the more prominent buildings. It was in the main street (if such a term may be used), and as near as possible in the centre of the town, that the steamer was anchored. When we awoke and roused up it was broad daylight, and the scene was most novel: surrounding the steamer and the barge, and extending many yards from them, lay hundreds of canoes, filled with natives of every tribe to be found on the coast, and dressed in every variety of costume. From the wild Dusum to the civilised Arab and Malay rajah, natives in every posture, and decked in every colour, impelled by curiosity, were crowded around us. Here was a chief, dressed in an embroidered jacket, sitting cross-legged, and shading himself with a yellow silk umbrella. There were some wild-looking Dyaks, with scarcely as much covering as decency demanded, standing up on their narrow canoes, one hand resting on the handle of their knives, the other on their hips, eying us from under their long matted hair with glances that told of no good feeling towards us. In another quarter were women, in a covered boat, whose jealous lattices only permitted us a glimpse of sparkling eyes, and of the yellow array which proclaimed them as some of the royal favourites. As far as you could see on all sides there was a confused mass, composed of embroidered chiefs, black-eyed women, grey-bearded Arabs, spears, shields, paddles and umbrellas. Taking out my sketch-book, I amused myself with drawing the various costumes--no very easy task, as the canoes were continually on the move; and before I could well catch the head and shoulders of a native, when I raised my eyes from the paper he had often disappeared in the crowd, and I found another party and another costume in his place. [Illustration: NATIVES OF BRUNI.] Rajah Muda Hassan had already landed, and 10 o'clock had been fixed upon as the hour for a full-dress visit to the sultan. As the time approached, Mr. Brooke, with our captain and the officers composing the party, came into the barge, and were pulled up to the sultan's audience chamber. This was a large three-sided building, facing the water, with a platform in front, on which were mounted five or six leilas, or native guns. The roof was slightly carved, and the gables ornamented with large wooden rams' horns. The red and yellow flag of Borneo waved above it. We were received at the platform by a numerous party of chiefs, handsomely dressed in silks, satins, and gold embroidery. They ushered us into the audience chamber, the walls of which were lined with a sort of cloth, and ornamented with shields. The floor was matted. The chamber was filled with natives, all well dressed and armed. They sat cross-legged, preserving a respectful silence. A vacant aisle was preserved between them leading to the throne, which was at the upper end of the chamber. The throne was a frame of painted wood, gilt and carved, and bearing a very suspicious resemblance to a Chinese bedstead. On this, sitting cross-legged, was the sultan of Borneo, to whom we were all separately presented as English warriors, &c. &c. Chairs were then placed in a half circle in front of the sultan, and we seated ourselves. The sultan, a man of about sixty years of age, is said to be very imbecile, and under the control of his ministers, who do with him as they please. He was dressed in a loose jacket and trousers of purple satin, richly embroidered with gold, a close-fitting vest of gold cloth, and a light cloth turban on his head. In his sash he wore a gold-headed kris of exquisite workmanship. His head was bald, and his features wore a continual air of suspicion, mixed with simplicity. The first is not to be wondered at, as he lives in the happy expectation of being poisoned every day. He has two thumbs on the right hand, and makes the supernumerary one useful by employing it in charging his mouth with the beetle-nut and chunan, in which luxury he indulges to excess. Immediately below him were his two body attendants, who have charge of his beetle-nut box and his weapons. In front of the throne, and inside the half aisle formed by the Europeans, Seraib Yussef, the prime minister, Muda Hassan, and Bud-ruddeen, were seated on their hams. On each side and below the throne were hundreds of attendants or guards; those in the front row sitting cross-legged, with drawn krisses; those behind them standing with long spears, tipped with bunches of red horsehair, in their hands. The remainder of the chamber was occupied by chiefs, all of them armed. [Illustration: COURT OF THE SULTAN OF BORNEO. (SIGNING THE TREATY WITH ENGLAND.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] The communications and demands we had to make were carried on through Mr. Williamson, the interpreter. The speakers were Mr. Brooke, our captain, the sultan's prime minister, Muda and Bud-ruddeen, the sultan occasionally nodding his head in approval of replies made by his prime minister. The whole of the conversation was carried on in so low a tone as not to be heard except by those sitting nearest to the throne. The subject of it was, however, no secret; and it was as follows:-- Near to the mouth of the river, is an island called Pulo Cheremon, on which the sultan has built some forts. On our entering the river, one of our boats had been fired at from one of these forts, although the English flag was hoisted at the time. The demands made in this conference were, that the proper respect should be paid to the English flag, that the forts upon Pulo Cheremon should be dismantled, and that the sultan should reinstate Muda and Bud-ruddeen in offices becoming their rank. Now, that the first demand was reasonable must be admitted; but what right we had to insist upon the forts being destroyed, and the sultan's uncles put into office, I really cannot pretend to say. Seraib Yussef, who was inimical to the English, expressed his disapprobation of their demands in very strong terms: as for the sultan, he had very little to say. As it appeared that there was no chance of our demands being complied with without coercion, the conference was broken up by our principals pointing to the steamer, which lay within pistol-shot of the palace, and reminding the sultan and the ministers that a few broadsides would destroy the town. Having made this observation, we all rose to take our departure, stating that we would wait for an answer to our demands upon the following day. Our situation was rather critical, only eight Europeans among hundreds of armed natives taking their sultan in this manner by the beard, when, at a signal from him, we might have all been despatched in a moment. More than one chief had his hand upon his kris as we stalked through a passage left for us out of the audience chamber; but whatever may have been their wishes, they did not venture further without authority. On reaching the platform outside, a very strange sight presented itself. With the exception of a lane left for our passage to the boat, the whole space was covered with naked savages. These were the Maruts, a tribe of Dyaks who live in the mountains. The word marut signifies brave. These naked gentlemen, who are very partial to the sultan, had come down from the mountains to render assistance in case of hostility on our part. They were splendidly framed men, but very plain in person, with the long matted hair falling over their shoulders. They were armed with long knives and shields, which they brandished in a very warlike manner, occasionally giving a loud yell. They certainly appeared very anxious to begin work; and I fully expected we should have had to draw and defend ourselves. I was not sorry, therefore, when I found myself once more in the stern sheets of the barge, with our brass six-pounder loaded with grape, pointed towards them. The poor fellows little knew the effect of a shower of grape-shot, or they would not have been so anxious for a "turn-up." The sultan had offered a house for the accommodation of the Europeans during our stay at Bruni. It was a small wooden building over the water and resting upon piles. It communicated by a platform with the Mahomedan mosque, which was built of brick and of tolerable dimensions. The interior of this mosque had no other furniture in it except a sort of pulpit painted, which stood in the centre. Outside on a raised platform was a very large tom-tom or drum, upon which a native played from morning to night, much to our annoyance, as it was so close to us. Religious worship appears at a very low ebb at Bruni, for during the whole time that we remained there I did not see one person enter the mosque. At the back of the mosque there was a piece of green sward, which separated us from the royal buildings. Passing through the mosque we strolled over this piece of pasture, when, close to the water's edge, we discovered several fine old brass 32-pounders, dismounted and half-buried in the swamp. On inspection we found them to be Spanish, bearing the inscription of Carolus Tertius, Rex Hispaniorum, with the arms of Castile above. How they came into the sultan's possession we could not find out. He was said to value them exceedingly; if so, he did not show it by the neglect paid to them. Bruni on a calm day presents a novel and pretty appearance. The masses of houses appear to float on the water, and the uniformity is broken by gay flags and banners, which indicate the rank and the office of them who hoist them. The large square sails of the prahus, the variety of boats and canoes, the floating bazaar, and the numerous costumes continually in moving panorama before you, all combine to form a very admirable picture. Add to this the chiming and beating of gongs and tom-toms in every cadence, and from every quarter, and you are somewhat reminded of an Asiatic Bartholomew fair. The right-hand side of the river, which is opposite to the town, consists of a series of small hills, which are partially cleared, but present little appearance of cultivation. Here we were shown a specimen of the upas tree: it was growing close to a small stone fountain in the vicinity of some straggling huts. It was a solitary tree, tall and red-stemmed, with the foliage branching out in a canopy at the top. So much has been said for and against this tree, usually supposed to be fabulous, that we looked upon it with great curiosity; and although aware that its noxious qualities have been much exaggerated, we were anxious to test its powers, if we could. We procured a ladder, which we raised against the tree, and one of our party ascended to the uppermost branches without experiencing the fainting sensation ascribed to be produced by close contact with its foliage. We then tapped the tree at the bottom, and there issued from it a white viscous fluid, which the natives asserted to be a virulent poison, and used by them for dipping the points of their arrows. We carried off a bottle of this poison, and having drunk from the fountain beneath the tree, without fear and without injury, we went away. This was the only specimen of the upas tree that I saw in Borneo. The lower orders at Bruni, in addition to a jacket and trousers, wear an immense straw hat of a conical shape, with a brim as wide as an umbrella. This hat, unless thrown back on the shoulders, entirely conceals the face. At times, when the river is crowded with canoes, nothing is to be seen but a mass of these straw hats, which present a very strange appearance. But the greatest novelty at Bruni is the floating bazaar. There are no shops in the city, and the market is held every day in canoes. These come in at sunrise every morning from every part of the river, laden with fresh fruit, tobacco, pepper, and every other article which is produced in the vicinity; a few European productions, such as handkerchiefs, check-cotton prints, &c., also make their appearance. Congregated in the main street the canoes are tacked together, forming lanes through which the purchasers, in their own canoes, paddle, selecting and bargaining for their goods with as much convenience as if the whole was transacted on terra firma. Iron is here so valuable that it is used as money. One hundred flat pieces an inch square are valued at a dollar, and among the lower classes these iron pieces form the sole coin. They are unstamped, so that every person appears to be at liberty to cut his own iron into money; but whether such is really the case I cannot vouch. We remained at Bruni for a week, during which time a great deal of diplomatic duty was got through by the seniors of the party, leaving the juniors to amuse themselves with discovering fresh objects of interest, and illustrating every thing worthy of notice. Our whole party met every evening at the small house which had been appropriated for our use by the sultan. It staggered fearfully upon its wooden legs under our accumulated weight, and we constantly expected that we should be let down into the water. Here we dined and passed the evening in conversation, with our arms all ready at hand, guns and pistols loaded, and the boats anchored close along side of us, in case of any treachery. Every day an interview was had with the sultan, but no definite answer had been obtained to our demands. On the 6th, however, it was resolved by our diplomatists that no more time should be wasted in useless discussion, but that the sultan must be at once brought to terms; indeed, our own safety demanded it, for the popular feeling was so much excited, and the people were so indignant at our attempt to coerce their sultan, that we were in hourly expectation of an attack. At seven in the evening the party repaired to the audience chamber, leaving their arms behind them, for they felt that any effort from five Europeans to defend themselves against so many hundreds, would be unavailing, and that more would be gained by a show of indifference. They landed at the platform, and the barge, in which were Lieutenant Baugh (since dead) and myself, was ordered to lie on her oars abreast of the audience chamber, and to keep her 6-pounder, in which there was a fearful dose of grape and canister, pointed at the sultan himself during the whole of the interview. It was an anxious time: the audience chamber was filled with hundreds of armed men, in the midst of whom were five Europeans dictating to their sultan. The platform outside was crowded with the wild and fearless Maruts: not a native in the city but was armed to the teeth, and anxious for the fray. We, on our parts, were well prepared for fearful vengeance; the barge was so placed that the assassination of Mr. Brooke and the Europeans would have been revenged on the first discharge of our gun by the slaughter of hundreds; and in the main street lay the steamer, with a spring on her cable, her half ports up, and guns loaded to the muzzle, awaiting, as by instruction, for the discharge of the gun from the barge, to follow up the work of death. The platform admitted one of the steamer's guns to look into the audience chamber, the muzzle was pointed direct at the sultan, a man held the lighted tow in his hand. Every European on board had his musket ready loaded, and matters assumed a serious appearance. From where I was on the barge, all appeared hushed in the audience room. I could see the prime minister, Muda, and Bud-ruddeen, as they rose in turns to speak. I could perceive by the motion of their lips that they were talking, but not a sound came to our ears. This state of things lasted about half an hour, and then there was a slight stir, and Mr. Brooke and his party marched towards us through the crowd of warriors. By dint of threats he had gained his point. The sultan had signed a treaty by which he bound himself to respect the British flag, to make over to us the island of Labuan, to destroy the forts on Pulo-Cheremon, to discountenance piracy, and to instal Muda and Bud-ruddeen into offices becoming their birth and high rank. I have since heard Mr. Brooke remark, that considering the natives were well aware that our guns were directed against them, the self-possession and coolness shared by every one of them were worthy of admiration. They never showed the slightest emotion, their speeches were free from gesticulation, and even their threats were conveyed in a quiet subdued tone; and every thing was carried on with all the calmness and deliberation that might be expected at a cabinet council at St. James's. Whilst at Bruni, we picked up several specimens of coal, and asking one of the chiefs if much could be procured, he showed us a few sacks. Ignorant of its value, he was still cunning enough to perceive how much interest Ave felt in the discovery, and immediately asked a most tremendous price for his stock. One would really have thought that we were bargaining for precious stones; at all events he must have had an intuitive idea that we considered them as "black diamonds." On the other hand, an old Arab at Bruni, who had supplied us with one or two live bullocks, when he saw the Samarang at anchor at the mouth of the river, had the modesty to offer our captain 400 dollars for her, less than 100l. sterling. Sell dear and buy cheap is the way to get rich, and proves how fit for commerce are all the people of the archipelago. While we were lying at Bruni in the barge, one day, when Adams the assistant-surgeon and myself were sole occupants, we were surprised at the appearance of a handsomely dressed Malay youth, who stepped into the boat, greeting us, although strangers, _sans cérémonie_. Always wishing to study native character, we amused him as well as we could, and on his departure gave him to understand that he might come whenever he pleased. About dark we were surprised by a canoe coming under our stern, and the occupant throwing into the barge several fine fowls and a large basket of fruit. We could not imagine to whom we were indebted for this civility, but suspected our Malay friend, and when he came again we taxed him with it, and he acknowledged it. On this visit he sat in the boat for some time, appearing to take a great interest in every thing connected with us, and observed that we were bargaining with the natives in the canoes alongside of us for the various arms of the country, which they are content to sell provided they obtain a most exorbitant price. Our Malay friend went off in his canoe, and in the course of an hour returned with a large collection of shields, spears, krisses, and mats, which he begged our acceptance of. Every day did he bring us presents of some description or another, refusing to take any thing in return, except perhaps an English pocket handkerchief or something of very trifling value. Suddenly his visits were discontinued, and we saw no more of him. One day, dining at the house lent us by the sultan, Mr. Brooke was talking with some of our party of a young Malay chief, who, being mad, had attempted to kill his wife, and had in consequence been placed in durance, but had since been liberated. Mr. Brooke wishing to speak to him, sent for him, and on his appearance this madman proved to be our generous unknown. The day after the signing of the treaty we left Bruni, the steamer taking the barge in tow, and the same afternoon we joined the Samarang at our newly-acquired possession, the isle of Labuan. This island is about thirty miles in circumference, flat, and covered with thick jungle. It has no inhabitants. Its anchorage is good, being protected by the main and two smaller islands. The embouchure of a rivulet forms a small bay, which we dignified with the title of Victoria. We found water plentiful, and several specimens of coal. From Labuan we proceeded to Ambong, a place where it was supposed that an European female had been detained as a slave. Ambong is a pretty little bay, with a Malay village built in the bight of it, and there is a fine view of Keeney Balloo, the great mountain of Borneo, in the back-ground. This mountain, estimated to be 14,000 feet high, is about forty miles from Ambong, and with the aid of a glass we could discern cataracts and ravines innumerable. It is certainly a most splendid affair, on one side rising almost perpendicularly, and in appearance nearly flat at the top. At sunset, from the bay, its appearance was splendid. We found nothing at Ambong to lead us to suppose that European females had at any time been made prisoners by the inhabitants: they were apparently a quiet, peaceable people, living entirely by agriculture. Their close neighbours, however, the Moros of Tampassook, are a notorious tribe of the Illanoan pirates, who are the terror of the Asiatic seas. It was not improbable that these people might have many European prisoners as their slaves, but from what we knew of their character, we felt assured that if they possessed white female prisoners, they would never consent to their being ransomed. After making a survey of Ambong, we only waited to take in a supply of fresh beef, and then started the Phlegethon on her return to Sarawak with Mr. Brooke and Mr. Williamson, while we shaped our course in an opposite direction on our way to Manilla. I may here remark that the bullocks at Ambong were remarkably fine and the price of them ridiculously cheap. Two of the largest were to be purchased for about twenty-five shillings worth of calico or any other European manufacture. Wherever we went on this island, and I may say over the Indian archipelago generally, the spirit of trade and barter appeared to be universal; and if the inhabitants of Borneo were inclined to look into the riches of their island, and with them procure English manufactures, which when piracy is abolished they will do, the commercial opening to this country will be great indeed. The scenery in the bay of Ambong varies from that of the Borneo coast in general. The bay is backed by a series of small hills, cleared away and partially cultivated, instead of the low jungle which is elsewhere so universal. On our way to Manilla we touched at the entrance of a river up which is situated the town of Tampassook. Bodies of armed men came down in haste to oppose our landing, which we did with a view of taking sights to verify the chronometers. We came to a parley before we came to blows, and the captain drew a line close to the beach, telling the Illanoans that his men would remain inside of it, on condition that they would remain outside. This arrangement was agreed to, and the observations were taken between four or five hundred armed warriors on one side, and four boats with the guns ready to fire on the other. The pirates were all very well dressed in stuffs and cloths: they carried shields so large as to cover the whole body, and long heavy swords with the handles ornamented with balls and human hair. Many were on horseback, and formed a very respectable irregular cavalry, wearing a light loose dress, and armed with long spears and short round shields. One costume was quite novel, being a coat of armour made of buffalo leather scaled with oyster shells. Both parties adhered to the agreement, and all therefore passed off quietly; the observations were completed, and we returned to the ship. Tampassook, it is asserted, would be a grand place for booty if it was stormed, as the inhabitants possess a great deal of money and diamonds. They are, however, a very brave people, and would not part with their riches without a terrible resistance. While off this river we had notice given us that there was a fleet of 100 piratical prahus lying off the island of Balabac. We shaped our course thither, hoping to surprise them, but we were disappointed: the birds had flown, and the bay of Balabac was untenanted. We cruised for a week among the islands in search of them, but could not discover their retreat; so we shaped our course for Manilla, taking the passage to the eastward of Palawan, which was considered the best at this season of the year. While off the north-east coast of Palawan, our boats left to survey discovered an Illanoan prahu at anchor off one of the small islands that surround the coast. The boats gave chase, and the pirates used every exertion to get away. The gig soon headed the other boats, but gained very slowly on the pirate, and her muskets caused no apparent execution, but one of the cutters with the grape from her gun killed several of their fighting men, who stood on the roof brandishing their krisses, and fearlessly exposing themselves to the fire. On turning a point the prahu kept before the wind, and walked away from us so fast that we gave up the chase. In about a fortnight afterwards, the Corregidor, a small island at the mouth of Manilla Bay, hove in sight. On our arriving abreast of it, a gun-boat came out to board us, and inquire after our bill of health; but as we had a spanking breeze, and men-of-war do not heave-to to be boarded, the gun-boat returned to the island as wise as she came out. Manilla Bay is of immense size, being thirty miles deep, and twenty wide. Near the mouth of the Bay the land is high, but at the head, where the city of Manilla is built, it is remarkably low and flat. As we had the wind in our teeth, and Manilla was twenty-five miles distant, we did not arrive there till sunset. After shaving the sterns of several merchant ships, who would have been better pleased if we had given them a wider berth, we at last dropped anchor about two miles from the town. Manilla, from the anchorage, has not an inviting appearance. I have said that the land upon which it is built is very low, and as the town is strongly fortified, nothing is to be seen from the shipping but a long line of sea wall, with the roofs of the largest buildings, and a mass of brick, which we were told was the cathedral, overtopping it. At one end of this sea wall is the canal, or river, flanked on one side by a mole, and on the other by a light-house. Manilla is, however, a very delightful place; and to us, who had been so many months among savages, it appeared a Paradise. The canal I have alluded to divides the fortified city from the suburban towns of San Fernando, San Gabriel, and others, in which are situated all the commercial houses, stores, godowns, dock-yards, and saw mills. All the Chinese and lower orders also reside in these suburbs, and I may add that all the amusements, feasts, &c., are carried on in this quarter. The city of Manilla within the fortifications is a very quiet, clean, and well-regulated town, inhabited entirely by the higher orders: the streets are well laid out, the houses regular, and built of white freestone. In the centre of the city is the Plaza, on one side of which is the cathedral, and opposite it the governor's palace; both very insignificant buildings. The cathedral, which is very ancient, is devoid of all attempt at architecture, and resembles a huge barn; while the governor's palace, in appearance, reminds you of a stable. [Illustration: CITY OF MANILLA.] During the day the streets of Manilla are perfectly quiet and deserted. At dusk the people begin to move, and show signs of life. The sallyport gates are closed at eleven o'clock at night, after which hour there is neither ingress or egress, and on this point they are most absurdly particular. The natives of Luzon are much below the middle size. The men are slightly made, weak, and inoffensive; the women, on the contrary, are remarkable for their pretty faces, feet, and figures, set off by a dress of the most picturesque description: a short petticoat, of gaily-coloured silk or cotton, and a boddice of similar material, of sufficient height to cover the bosom, is their usual costume. Their long jet black hair is allowed to fall in tresses down their backs. Many have a kerchief tastefully thrown over their heads; and they wear little velvet slippers, embroidered with gold and silver thread. Their appearance is extremely captivating to foreigners, who do not in a hurry forget their graceful mien and the arch glances from their brilliant eyes. Manilla supports a considerable body of infantry and cavalry, the whole composed of natives of the island. Their horses are small, as well as the men, and are not well trained; but the object of the Spaniards is to make a show to intimidate the Indians, who, having no discipline whatever, are, of course, inferior even to these very moderate troops. Not long ago, one of the strongest forts was taken possession of by a party of rebels, assisted by some soldiers who had revolted: the fort was recaptured, and, as an example, a dreadful slaughter ensued. The parade ground, outside the citadel, was the scene of carnage. A large pit was dug, at the brink of which the victims were placed; they were then shot, and thrown into this grave. Eighty-two were thus butchered, and buried in the pit, over which a mound has been raised, to commemorate their execution. Outside the town, and half encircling it, there is a splendid esplanade, between an avenue of trees. This leads to the water, when the road runs parallel with it for nearly a mile, terminating at one of the piers of the canal. This is known by the, I presume, correct name of Scandal Point. A number of carriages, filled with all the _élite_ of Manilla, turn out on this drive a little before sunset, and the scene is very gay and exciting. I leave the reader to conceive upwards of 200 carriages passing and repassing, besides equestrians and pedestrians. The reader may say that it must be like the ring at Hyde Park; but it is more brilliant, although not in such good taste; and then it is the beauty of the climate--the contrast between the foliage and the blue ocean--which gives the effect. No buttoning up to an east wind, nor running away from a shower; but ever gay, and fresh, and exhilarating. Here you meet the old Don, enjoying his quiet stroll and cigar, all alone. Soldier officers, in plain dress and long mustachoes, doffing their hats to every señora. The English merchant, in his unassuming undress of a white jacket; the British naval officers, with their gay uniforms and careless manners, prying, with a sailor's curiosity, into every pretty face; and now and then a saucy mid, mounted on a hack, dashing between the line of carriages at a full gallop, disturbing their propriety, and checking the cavalcade, to the great consternation, real or assumed, of the ladies. All was gaiety and gladness; on every side was to be heard the merry laugh and hail of recognition. To add to the excitement, the bands of the several regiments played the most popular airs on a parade adjoining to the esplanade. While the carriages were driving up and down, the vesper bell tolled from the cathedral. In an instant every carriage stopped--every head was uncovered, and bent in an attitude of devotion. Horses, women, men--all as if transfixed: every tongue silent--nothing heard but the bell of the cathedral, and the light breeze which bore away its vibrations. The bell at last ceased, and in a moment every thing was in full activity as before. Twice a week a military band plays at the public almeda from nine till ten in the evening; and on one of these nights we started in a carriage to the spot. The almeda is situated close to the gates of the city, and joins to the esplanade. It is an open square, bordered with a row of trees, to which are suspended lamps; while in the spaces between the trees there are seats for the accommodation of the public. In the middle of the almeda is a stand erected for the musicians. On our arrival there we found it well lighted up; the place was surrounded by carriages, which were empty, their occupants having joined the parade. Following the example, we mixed with the throng, which was numerous. The women were mostly collected in groups, and the men were smoking their cheroots and beating time to the music, which was excellent. Lighting our cigars, we strolled lazily along, and, by dint of lamp-light and impudence, managed to form a very tolerable idea of the beauty of the senoras. At ten o'clock, the band struck up a lively polka, which was the signal for a general dispersion. This is considered one of the principal and most favourite recreations at Manilla. The inhabitants of Manilla are composed of the pure Spaniard, and the Mustichas, or mixed breed. The former are very proud and inhospitable; the latter are, on the contrary, very friendly, and, for any little civility, request that you will make their house your home. The women of the latter are by far the most preferable: the former are said to be very deficient in good-breeding and education; like the Indians, they sleep half the day, and are scarcely alive till sun-down, when they dress for the almeda or esplanade. There are very good subscription rooms in the city. Every month they give a ball, concert, or amateur performance. Strangers are presented with tickets for these amusements--no thanks to the Spaniards--but from the kindness of the English merchants, who are nearly all members. I went to one of these balls: there were plenty of women--more than could get partners; the music was good, the women well dressed, and they waltzed exquisitely. Adjoining the ball-room was a billiard-room, in which those who preferred smoking cigars in a cool room to dancing, with the thermometer at 90°, had retreated. Nothing can be done at Manilla without the cigar: they smoke for an appetite, they smoke for digestion, they smoke when they are too hot, they smoke when it is chilly. As the hands of the time-piece approached the hour of eleven, every one who lived outside the city was obliged to be off. We, among others, took our departure; but when we sought for our carriage, it had disappeared. We set off at a hard trot, to reach the gates before eleven, but in our haste we missed the road, and came to a cul-de-sac. We retraced our steps, but when we reached the gates they were closed. A request to the officer of the guard we knew to be useless, so we turned back, and prepared to pass the night in the streets, in our uniforms and swords. After wandering half an hour up and down without seeing a light or meeting a soul, I heard a violent hammering at a door at a little distance. I found it was one of our party, who hammered away, and called out for "Soda water" between each hammering. "All's right!" said he; "look here!" And sure enough there was a board outside, with "Soda Water" painted in large letters in English. This repeated hammering and demand for soda water at last produced the desired effect. A person in a dressing-gown and slippers came out into the balcony, and demanded our business. We explained our extreme thirst and benighted condition; and as the gentleman hesitated, we again applied to the door, intimating that if we had no admission, at all events he should have no repose. At last he sent down to have the door opened. We found that he was a German chemist, who fabricated soda water, among other articles, and, knowing the partiality of the English for the beverage, had advertised it in our language over the door. We passed the night with him very comfortably at his house, breakfasted with him the next morning, and, promising to bring the whole of our shipmates to drink soda water for his benefit till we were blown out like balloons, we wished him good-bye, and returned to the ship. Gambling is carried to a great extent in Manilla: the game played is Monté. We visited one of their gambling houses. Winding our way down a dark and narrow street, we arrived at a porte-cochère. The requisite signal was given, the door opened cautiously, and after some scrutiny we were ushered up a flight of stairs, and entered a room, in the centre of which was a table, round which were a group, composed of every class. An Indian squaw was sitting by the side of a military officer, the one staking her annas, the other his doubloons. I stood by the side of an old Chinaman, who staked his doubloon and lost every time. The strictest silence was observed, and nothing was heard but the chinking of the dollars, and the occasional _à quien_ of the banker, who inquired the owner of the stakes. Every thing was conducted with the greatest order; when one man had lost all his money he would retire, and make room for another. The authorities of Manilla have made every effort to put a check to this demoralising practice, but without much success. It is universal, from the highest to the lowest, from the civilised to the most barbarous, over the whole of the Indian Archipelago. The Indians of the Phillippines are among the best favoured of the Asiatic islanders, but they are not reckoned so brave as the Malays. They are a quiet inoffensive race, clean and well shaped, and are all converted to the Catholic faith. Their principal amusement is cock-fighting, which, indeed, is carried to a great extent in all the islands. Every man in the streets has his fighting cock under his arm, and groups may be seen at all hours of the day, pitting their cocks and betting on the issue. The country about Manilla is very pretty, well cultivated, and studded with thriving villages. The Spanish possessions in this part of Luzon are confined to about twenty miles in every direction; the interior of the island being peopled with a race of savages who occasionally make incursions into the country, carrying away cattle or any thing else that they can lay their hands upon. I could obtain no particulars of these aborigines, except that they go nearly if not altogether naked. On the 1st of December, our old acquaintance, the Velocipede schooner, arrived from Sooloo, having on board six Lascars, who had been ransomed from the sultan of Sooloo by Mr. Wyndham. They had formed a portion of the crew of the Premier, an English merchant vessel, which had been wrecked on a reef off the eastern coast of Borneo. The crew, consisting of Europeans and Lascars, had been divided between the sultans of Sooloo, Gonong Tabor, and Balungan. One of the Lascars was the bearer of a letter from the captain of the Premier, stating that he and his crew were still captives, and trusting that a vessel would be sent to rescue them, as they were strictly guarded by the natives, and had no hopes of escape. The Samarang being the only man-of-war at Manilla, the English consul requested our captain to proceed again to Borneo to obtain these people, calling at Sooloo in order to obtain information and a pilot. On the 10th of December we sailed for Sooloo, where we arrived on the 15th. We found the natives preparing for an attack, which they anticipated from the French, and suspicious that our intentions were also hostile. Having already described Sooloo, I shall confine myself to events. The captain, with his officers, went on shore, and had an audience with the sultan; and having brought an interpreter with us from Manilla, the conversation was carried on without difficulty. Refreshments, as lemonade, &c. were handed round as before, and, as before, the room of audience was crowded to suffocation. The prime minister, who was a little corpulent man with an aquiline nose, wore such an expression of low cunning, and eyed us with such ill-concealed hatred, that we christened him Daniel Quilp, and he was ever afterwards spoken of by that soubriquet. Our object being made known, and the sultan's assistance demanded to obtain the remainder of the prisoners, every obstacle that Quilp could throw in our way was resorted to; and thus the audience became very tiresome, and I paid little or no attention to what was said, amusing myself by using my eyes, instead of tormenting my ears. A heavy red curtain was hung up, dividing the room into two compartments. Observing that this moved once or twice, I endeavoured to find out the cause, when several pairs of black eyes, half hidden in the folds and rents, explained the mystery; and whilst they were loudly disputing, I was winking and making faces at the sultan's wives, who, stimulated by curiosity to behold the white men, were thus transgressing the rules of the harem. But old Quilp looked very hard at me, and for the ladies' sakes I was obliged to desist. Behind the sultan stood a young man very handsomely dressed in crimson silk, who held in his hands an English finger-glass. We were very much at a loss to know what his office might be, and also what might be the office of the finger-glass; but our curiosity was soon gratified; the sultan beckoned the youth to approach, and as the latter presented the finger-glass, his highness blew his nose in it. Indeed, the misappropriation of English utensils in this part of the world is very absurd, although it is not surprising that an article coming into their hands, the use of which they have no idea of, should be appropriated to that use which they consider it best adapted to. On the occasion of a dinner given to us by the sultan of Bruni, the whole party were seized with a fit of very indecorous and immoderate laughter, by finding the centre dish, which was a curry, served up in a capacious vessel, which in Europe is only to be found under a bed. The curry, nevertheless, was excellent; and what matter did it make? "What's in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."--But to return. We remained eight days at Sooloo, during which time there was much altercation and excitement. At last the sultan of Sooloo agreed to send a prahu with us to pilot us up the river, to the town where the crew of the Premier were in durance. During the time that we were at Sooloo, we had evidence sufficient of the vindictive feeling held by the rabble against Europeans, and at the same time the various ways they resorted to, to give us an idea of their superiority. They drew our attention to some old cannon mounted on rotten gun-carriages; they pointed out the strength of their fort, the sharpness of their krisses and spears; and we could not but smile at the false estimate of their and our capabilities. They expressed curiosity to see our swords, which are always made of finely tempered steel, although not sharp edged, as they are required more for thrusting and parrying. Of our mode of self-defence they are ignorant, as they invariably cut with their krisses; their first attention was, therefore, drawn to the edge of the sword; passing the thumb along it, and finding it blunt, they expressed the greatest contempt for the weapon. It was useless to show them the thrust and parry movements, or to prove the well-tempered steel by bending the blade till the hilt and point were almost meeting. A sharp iron hoop in their ideas was preferable to all the best English workmanship. The Sooloo knives are larger than they usually are in the Archipelago, and of superior manufacture. By rubbing them with limes and exposing them to the sun, they stain them in a manner quite peculiar to the place. Partly to the machinations of our friend Quilp and the irritable and proud disposition of the people, who considered that the sultan was humiliated by listening to reason and remonstrance, we were more than once very near coming to blows. At last every thing was arranged amicably; and just before starting, the prime minister, Quilp, and a large party of chiefs, condescended to pay a visit to the ship. To guard against treachery, for Quilp was equal to any thing, the marines were kept under arms, and supplied with ball cartridges. The ship was soon crowded with chiefs, armed to the teeth, and accompanied by men with muskets, spears, and shields. It certainly did not look like a very amicable visit on their part, or a very friendly reception on ours; but the ship wore a very gay appearance. The guns, nettings, and booms were covered with the chiefs and attendants dressed in very gay colours. Groups of them sat down on the decks, and made their remarks upon what they beheld; while numbers prowled about up and down, examining, peeping, and wondering. We amused them with firing congreve rockets, guns, &c., which gave them some idea of our value, and we therefore combined instruction with amusement. They departed highly pleased and astonished, and it was evident that we were some degrees higher in the estimation of Quilp himself. The prahu ordered to pilot us having come alongside, we hoisted her up abaft, and took the people on board, and then made sail for the hitherto unknown territory of Panti river. We anchored off the main land on the 25th December, that we might discover the mouth of the river, which was unknown to us. Our Christmas-day was not a very happy one; we did nothing but drink to the hopes of a better one the ensuing year. On the following day we weighed, and moved some distance up the river, and then anchored, waiting the return of the prahu, which had been despatched up to the town the night before. We had, by the means of warping and towing, gained about fifteen miles up the river, when we found that it divided into two branches, and, not knowing which branch to take, we had anchored, waiting the return of the prahu. As she, however, did not make her appearance, although she had had quite sufficient time allowed her, the boats were therefore manned and armed, and we started in search of the town Gonong Tabor. As bad luck would have it, we chose the left branch of the river, and, after two days' unsuccessful search, came back just as we went, but not quite so fresh as when we started. The prahu had not yet returned, so, taking a new departure, we proceeded up the right branch. This proved a fine broad river; one portion of it, studded with small islands, was very picturesque. We soon hove in sight of what appeared to be a town, although there were no signs of life visible. It was built on the left side of the river on two small hills, but we heard no gongs or tomtoms sounding, the usual alarm of all the Malay settlements on the approach of strangers. When we arrived off it, we found that the town was deserted. It had evidently but a short time back been a populous and flourishing place, but it had been destroyed by the enemy, as, although the houses were standing, the cocoa-nut and other trees had been all cut down. On the brow of the hill were many graves; one, which was stockaded and thatched, and the remnants of several flags fluttering in the wind, denoted the resting-place of a rajah. He little thought when he was alive that his head would be transported to a head house some 20,000 miles distant, but such was his fate: science required it, and he was packed up to add to the craniological specimens in the College of Surgeons, the gentlemen presiding over which are as fond of heads as the Dyaks themselves. We moved up the river till nightfall, and then anchored. We were satisfied from appearances that we were not far from a town, and, loading our arms, we kept a very strict look-out. At daylight the next morning we weighed anchor, and, having passed two reaches of the river, we came in sight of the towns of Gonong Tabor and Gonong Satang. We pulled towards them, with a flag of truce, and were immediately boarded by a canoe, which contained the prime minister, who made every profession of good-will on the part of his master, the sultan of Gonong Tabor. We observed with surprise that he hoisted a Dutch flag, which he requested that we would salute. The captain replied, that they must first salute the English flag, and, if they did so, he promised to return the salute. This was complied with; the English flag was saluted with twenty-one guns, and an equal number returned. The boats were then anchored off the town. Immediately after we had returned the salute, we heard an attempt at music, and this was soon explained by the appearance of a procession filing through the gates of the town towards the boats. It was headed by a Malay, bearing the standard of Gonong Tabor,--red, with a white border; he was followed by another carrying a large canopy of silk, highly ornamented, and fringed with lace. After this personage came the prime minister; then two musicians, one playing the drum, and the other a flageolet of rude construction. These musicians were dressed in red bordered with yellow, with cowls over their heads. The rear was composed of a body-guard of Malays, well armed. The whole advanced towards the landing-place, having been sent by the sultan to escort the captain to the palace. The captain and officers landed, and, escorted by the natives, proceeded to the palace, the red silk canopy being carried over the head of the captain as a mark of honour. The sultan, a corpulent but fine-looking man, received us very courteously. He informed the captain that all the white people belonging to the Premier had been ransomed by the Dutch, whose trading vessels were in the habit of visiting Gonong Tabor. The captain of the Premier had refused to acknowledge the Lascars as British subjects, and, in consequence, the poor fellows had been retained as slaves. They were not, however, at Gonong Tabor, but at Baloongan, a town of some importance up a neighbouring river. He added, that four of the Lascars had fallen victims to the climate, and that there were twelve still remaining at the above-mentioned town. It appeared that, from some misunderstanding between the sultans of Gonong Tabor and Gonong Satang relative to the disposal of the English prisoners, they had come to blows, and were at this time at open warfare, the two towns being within gunshot of each other. Gonong Satang was built on a hill on the opposite side of the river, and was strongly stockaded as well as Gonong Tabor. [Illustration: PROCESSION OF THE SULTAN OF GONONG TABOR.] The sultan expressed his desire to enter into an amicable treaty with the English, and offered our captain his assistance in procuring the release of the Lascars at Baloongan. This offer was accepted, and, when we left, a prahu accompanied us to that town. In the course of the evening the sultan's prime minister and suite visited the barge, which was moored within a few yards of the landing-place. We surprised them very much with our quick firing, but their astonishment was unbounded at the firing of a congreve rocket, which they perceived carried destruction to every thing in its flight. The grand vizier was in ecstasies, and begged very hard that the captain would go up to Gonong Satang, and just fire one or two at their adversaries in that town. This, of course, was refused. [Illustration: EARS OF DYAKS AT GONONG TABOR.] We here fell in with a most remarkable tribe of Dyaks: they wore immense rings in their ears, made of tin or copper, the weight of which elongated the ear to a most extraordinary extent. On their heads they wore a mass of feathers of the Argus pheasant. They wore on their shoulders skins of the leopard and wild cat, and neck-laces of beads and teeth. They were armed with the usual parang, blowpipe, and shield. They were a much larger race of men than the Dyaks of the north coast, but not so well favoured. We remained here five days, and on the 1st of January, 1845, went down the river to the ship, accompanied by the prahu which was to be our guide to Baloongan. The following day we sailed for Baloongan, and on the 3rd we anchored off the bank where the Premier was cast away. Her ribs and timbers were left, but the natives had carried away every thing of value, except a small anchor, which they had not ingenuity enough to recover. Leaving the ship at anchor here, we again manned the boats, and, accompanied by the pilot prahu, proceeded up the Saghai river: the next day we arrived in sight of Baloongan. Heaving to, to load our guns, and get our fire-arms in readiness (for we expected a hostile reception), we then hoisted a flag of truce and pulled up to the town. What first occupied our attention was a green plot in front of the town, on which were mounted from fifteen to twenty guns, which were continually pointed so as to bear upon us as we pulled up, and which were backed by some thousands, I should think, of Malays and savages, all well armed with spears and knives. This looked like business, but we pulled on, with the white flag still flying. A canoe came off, containing, as at Gonong Tabor, the prime minister. He waved with his hand, ordering us to anchor, and pointing to the guns, which the natives still continued to train after us. The captain refused to anchor, and pulled on; we were then almost abreast and within thirty yards of the battery. As we passed it within ten yards, the natives kept the muzzles pointed at our boats, and we expected them every moment to fire. Had they done so, we might have received considerable damage; but what would their loss have been when we had opened with round, grape, and canister, and congreve rockets, upon such an exposed and densely crowded multitude? They contented themselves, however, with yelling, which does not kill, and, passing the battery, we dropped our anchor close to the gate of the stockade by which the town was surrounded. In passing the battery, and refusing to anchor, the captain adopted the most prudent and safe course; for we had long before discovered that decision is absolutely necessary with these people. The least hesitation on our part would have fortified their courage to attack; but they are so much awed by our superior arms, and I may safely add the superior courage of our men, that they never will, however much they may threaten, be the first to come to blows, provided there is no vacillation or unsteadiness on our parts. This the captain knew, and acted accordingly. After returning their salute of twenty-one guns, the captain, with some of the officers and a party of small-armed men passed through a line of Dyaks to the hall of audience, which, as usual, was crowded to excess with armed Malays. The sultan, who was a stout athletic man, received us very cordially, but his confused manners and restless eyes showed that he was not at his ease. His dress consisted of a yellow satin jacket, over which he wore another of purple silk, worked and hemmed with lace. His trousers and turban were made of similar materials. Shoes and stockings he had none, and wearing both jackets open, his chest was exposed. The sultan acknowledged that the Lascars were still in his territory, but, as two of them were at some distance in the interior, it would require a few days to bring them in. He appeared very glad that the business was settling so easily, for he no doubt expected an inquiry and a demand for all the ship's stores, the major portion of which had found their way to Baloongan. The chain cables must have been invaluable to the natives, and I detected several links which had been partly converted into spear-heads. There was nothing worthy of remark in the town of Baloongan. We were very much interested in the Dyak tribes, who were the same as those described at Gonong Tabor, and in greater numbers. They were equally tall, and appeared to be the very perfection of savage warriors. They invited us several times to pay them a visit on the hills, where they resided. These Dyaks appeared very friendly to us, and one of them, an intelligent fellow, of the name of Meta, volunteered to take a letter overland to Mr. Brooke: his mode of travelling was by pulling up the Saghai river to its source in his canoe, till he came close to the source of the Coran, and by his account the two rivers nearly meet. He took the letter, binding it round his head with a piece of linen; but I do not know if ever it was delivered. One observation I made relative to these Saghai Dyaks, which was, that much as they must have been astonished at our arms and equipments, like the North American Indians, they never allowed the least sign of it to be perceived. At the end of a week the prisoners returned in a very miserable condition. They had been at work, pounding paddy and digging yams; and they stated that they had not sufficient allowed to eat to support existence, besides being beat about the legs with bamboos. Two of the twelve died evidently from ill treatment and exhaustion. Their gratitude at being delivered from their slavery was beyond bounds; and it certainly is not very creditable to the master of the Premier to have abandoned them in the way he did, when a word from him would have procured their liberty. We returned to the ship, and the next day ran down to the Premier Reef; the captain then went again to the Panti river, in the boats, to conclude the treaty with the sultan of Gonong Tabor. This was soon accomplished; and giving him an union jack to hoist, at which he was much pleased, we bade him farewell. We finished the survey of the Premier Shoal, as it is now named, and then steered for the island of Maratua, which the sultan of Gonong Tabor had by his treaty made over to the English, representing it as having an excellent harbour and good water; but on our arrival we were much disappointed to find an island surrounded by reefs, with only one intricate passage through them and sufficiently wide only for boats. Probably the sultan knew no better. As we were very short of water, we now made sail for Sooloo, and fell in with the Sooloo prahu, which had been sent to us as a pilot, and which we had never seen since she went up the river Panti before us. She had been waiting for us outside, and the people were very much pleased at finding us, as they feared being taken by the pirates of Tawee-Tawee. After having been nearly wrecked on a reef, and having grounded on another, we anchored off the Lugutan islands, and despatched the two cutters in search of water. One of them attacked and burnt a prahu, because she looked suspicious; the other did better, she discovered a stream of water, off which we anchored the same evening. Having completed wood and water, we sailed for Sooloo, where we arrived on the Sunday. We were surprised to find a French squadron anchored in the bay. It consisted of the Cleopatra, 50-gun frigate, Rear Admiral Cecile, with an ambassador on board, the Victorieuse, 22, and the Alchimede war steamer. They were treating with the sultan of Sooloo for the island of Basilan, the natives of which had beat off their boats, with the loss of a lieutenant and four men killed and many wounded. The island of Basilan is subject to Sooloo, although the natives have refused to pay tribute for many years. The French, aware of this, and wishing to establish a colony in the East, offered the sultan 20,000 dollars if he would make over the island to them; but this was not acceded to, the chiefs being divided on the question. The people of Sooloo have a great dislike to all Europeans, but particularly to the French. Treacherous as we and the French knew them to be, we little thought to have it proved in so fearful a manner. About a mile to the right of the town is a spring, where all the ships watered. One day some peculiar looking berries were found in the pool, which, on examination, proved to be deadly poison, the natives having thrown them in with the intention of poisoning us _en masse_. The water was of course started overboard, and intelligence sent to Admiral Cecile, who was highly incensed. [Illustration: PORTRAIT OF MAHOMED PULLULU, SULTAN OF SOOLOO.] It was singular by what means this discovery was made. One of the seamen of the Samarang complained of a stinging sensation in his feet from having wetted them in the pool. Our assistant surgeon happening to be on shore at the time, caused the watering to be stopped, and the pool to be examined. Buried in the sand, at the bottom of the pool, and secured in wicker baskets, were found those poisonous berries, which the natives had concealed there. As soon as Admiral Cecile received the information, all the water was thrown overboard, and the boats of the whole squadron, manned and armed, landed the French admiral, the ambassador, and our captain. They repaired to the palace of the sultan, who not only expressed his abhorrence of the attempt, but promised to put to death the parties if they could be discovered. The attempt did not, however, stop here. In addition to fruit, the boats at Sooloo brought off rice cakes, which were eagerly bought by the seamen. Some of the chiefs issued an order for a large number of poisoned cakes, which they intended for our consumption; but fortunately the order was so extensive that it got wind, and we were warned of what was intended by a native of Manilla, who had been captured by pirates and sold at Sooloo. In reward for this intelligence, we gave him, and others of the same place, a passage to Manilla, taking care, however, that they should be smuggled on board. Sailed for Manilla, staid there a few days, and then went to Batan, from thence to Hong Kong, where we arrived on the 1st of April, and found the Iris and Castor in the harbour. [Illustration: TANKA BOATS--HONG KONG,] There never was, perhaps, so rapid a rise in any settlement made by the English as that of Hong Kong, considering the very short time that it has been in our possession. Where, two years back, there existed but a few huts, you now behold a well-built and improving town, with churches, hotels, stores, wharves, and godowns. The capacious harbour which, but a short time ago, was only visited by some Chinese junks or English opium clippers, is now swarming with men-of-war and merchant ships. The town extends along the base of the mountain. Every day some improvement takes place in this fast-growing colony, but, from the scarcity of building ground, house rent is very dear, and every thing has risen in proportion. The town which, from the irregularity of the ground, has but one street of importance, lies under the highest part of a rock, which is called Possession Peak. It is built on a kind of ledge, but this is so steep that the basements of the back houses can be seen over the roofs of those in the front, although the houses are no further apart than is necessary for the streets. Above the town the rock rises almost perpendicularly; but every spot which can be built upon is appropriated, and scattered buildings may be seen half way up the rock, only accessible by tortuous and narrow paths. The houses are built of white freestone; many of them are handsome erections, and on a fine day the town of Victoria has an imposing appearance. The island is now intersected by roads, in some parts necessarily precipitous, but equestrians can make the circuit of Hong Kong without any other risk but from the marauding Chinese, who, in spite of the police, still find means of exercising their vocation. To the left of the town of Victoria is a very pretty valley, but in the middle of it is a swamp, which renders the place so unhealthy that no one can reside there: some who did, died there; and there are one or two neat little villas on it, now untenanted and falling into ruins. Strange to say, it still bears the name of Happy Valley. The harbour is completely land locked, and has two entrances. One side of it is formed by Hong Kong, the other by Kow-loon, which is part of the mainland. [Illustration: WEST POINT. HONG KONG. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] But all this has its reverse. The unhealthiness of the climate is very great, and this is impressed upon the stranger while at anchor in the roads; for the first object that meets his eye is the Minden hospital ship, with her flag continually half mast high, announcing that another poor sailor had gone to his long home. When you land you will certainly meet a funeral; and watching the countenances of the passers by, their sallow complexions, and their debilitated frames, with the total unconcern with which they view the mournful processions, you may assure yourself that they must be of daily and hourly occurrence. And such is the fact. I was sorry to find that murders and robberies were most frequent at Hong Kong, although the police force has been augmented from London, and is under the charge of an experienced officer. While on shore, I observed the body of a Chinaman rise to the surface, disfigured in a horrible manner, and although notice was sent immediately to the authorities, it was allowed to remain beating against the wharf till late in the afternoon, when it was towed out and sunk in the middle of the harbour. I once witnessed the punishment of a Chinese robber at the market gate; he had been apprehended on the preceding night. His tail, which was false, and filled with blades of knives, needles, &c., came off in the officer's hands. However, he was secured, and received a daily allowance of fifty lashes, which was continued as long as he was capable of bearing the punishment, and then he was sent to work on the roads. I left H. M. S. Samarang at this port, and joined the Iris, commanded by Captain Mundy, whose high character as an officer and a gentleman I well knew; unfortunately I was only lent to the Iris, and the consequence was, as will be seen, I had ultimately to return to the Samarang. I found that the Iris was to sail for the north coast of China, and I was delighted at the idea of visiting those parts, which there was little chance of if I had remained in the Samarang. [Illustration: CHINESE FISHERMEN.] One object of the Iris proceeding to the coast of China was to carry General D'Aguilar and suite on a visit to the most interesting of the hostage ports. We sailed on the 6th of April, and after a week's beating arrived at Chapel Island, at the mouth of Amoy bay. This bay is very spacious, being nearly thirty miles deep. To the left of the entrance is a high peak, on the summit of which is built a splendid pagoda, serving as a landmark to vessels coming from seaward. The town of Amoy is built at the bottom of the bay. Close to it, and forming an inner harbour, is the island of Ku-lang-so, near to which we dropped our anchor. Ku-lang-so is a pretty island, about a mile in diameter. Up to the evacuation of Amoy it had been occupied by our troops; and the remains of a race course and a theatre prove that the gallant 18th had contrived to amuse themselves. At the present time it is all but deserted, the only European residents being Mr. Sullivan, the Vice Consul; the Chinese, who had been driven from it at the capture of the city, not having as yet returned. The houses on it are prettily disposed, and some rich foliage and green pasture give an English character to the scenery, and are very refreshing, after continually looking at the everlasting paddy fields, which constitute the principal features of the sea coast of China. It is to this circumstance that I ascribe the exaggerated accounts we have of the beauty of the island of Ku-lang-so. It forms, however, a very pleasant promenade, and may be enjoyed without interruption from the inhabitants. The city of Amoy is built on a low neck of land. The houses are of a dusky tint, and from the anchorage are indistinguishable through forests of junks' masts, which surround the town. To the right of the town, and extending to some distance, is a fortified wall, which gave some trouble at the capture. I landed with a party to walk through the city. The streets are narrow and dirty, the open shops on either side reminding you very much of Constantinople. The population is immense, the streets are always crowded. We soon found that we were objects of attention, and were followed by a mob. It was with difficulty that we could force our way; and, moreover, the town having been lately evacuated by our troops, the Chinese thought themselves secure in venting their animosity, by pushing, jostling, and throwing stones at us. In this, however, they were mistaken, for being a tolerably strong party, and knowing that they had a very wholesome fear of us, we were not slow in resorting to blows when intreaties proved in vain; and, before we were in the middle of the town, more than one celestial head had come in contact with the pavement. One had the impudence to bellow in my face; for which impertinence he received a facer, which gave him something to bellow for. Those, however, who "were at a distance had the means of annoying with impunity, and we were glad to take refuge in a pastry cook's shop, which happened most opportunely to present itself. [Illustration: COOK'S SHOP.] On our entering, we were each presented with a pair of chop sticks, and a large tray was placed before us, filled with sweetmeats of every description. There were nutmegs and other spices, ginger, sugar cane, bamboo, and the knee-bone palm, preserved in the most exquisite manner. Every thing was so novel, chop sticks not excepted, that it was quite fearful the extent to which we indulged in the sweetmeats; however, as we had no maiden aunts ready with their doses, as in our infancy, we ate and spared not. Cakes of the most recherche description, and pastry, the lightness of which would have shamed Gunter, were each and all in their turn discussed; and what was our astonishment to find that, on calling for the bill, the charge amounted to about sixpence. We visited as much of the town as the mob would permit, but I shall reserve my description of a genuine Chinese town until our arrival to the northward. The joss-houses at Amoy are not remarkable, and one description of these buildings will suffice for all. We lay at Amoy for about a week, during which the Mandarins paid us a full dress visit. They were extremely cautious, and remained on board for a couple of hours. At their departure we gave them the economical Chinese salute of three guns. During our stay here I amused myself principally on the island of Ku-lang-so, and I was not sorry when we weighed anchor, and, with a fair wind, made sail for Chusan. Chusan is the largest of a closely packed group of islands, near to the main land of China, and about 500 miles to the northward of Amoy. These islands, many of them very diminutive, are so close to each other, that on threading them to approach the town of Chusan, the channel wears the appearance of a small river branching out into every direction. If the leading marks were removed it would be a complete marine labyrinth, and a boat might pull and pull in and out for the whole day, without arriving at its destination. Narrow, however, as is the passage, with a due precaution, and the necessary amount of backing and filling, there is sufficient water for ships of the largest size. At sunset we anchored off the town of Chusan. Here the islands form a beautiful little harbour, sufficiently capacious. The island being covered with tea plants, the panorama is pretty and refreshing. From the anchorage little can be seen of the town, as it is built on a flat, and hidden by a parapet and bank of mud, which runs along the bottom of the harbour. This temporary fortification is called a bund, and was erected by the Chinese previous to the capture of the place. Behind this bund is an esplanade, parallel with which are houses, which serve as barracks for the troops, and the residences of the civil and military functionaries. The country is hilly, and several commanding forts are visible from the anchorage. On landing, we directed our steps to the town by a causeway which leads from the landing-place to the gates between the fields of paddy, which are, as usual, swamped with water. The sides of this causeway are lined with shops; and the island being occupied by the English, soon stared you in the face, in the shape of boards in front of each shop, bearing such inscriptions as "Snip, from Pekin," "Stultz, from Ningpo," and others equally ludicrous, in good English letters. There were "Buckmasters" and "Hobys" innumerable; Licensed Victuallers and "Dealers in Grocery." Passing a tolerably well constructed gate, guarded by an English sentry, we entered the town. The streets are cleaner than those of Amoy, and not so narrow; but what gave us most satisfaction was, that our appearance excited no attention; and we enjoyed our walk, and made our observations uninterruptedly. Our first visit was to a toy-shop: a great many articles were exposed for sale, and many very beautiful carvings; they were, however, far too delicate for a midshipman's chest, and the price did not exactly suit a midshipman's pocket. A silk warehouse next occupied our attention: here we were shown some beautiful embroidery, some of which was purchased. After walking over the whole town, we proceeded to the principal joss-house: this was very handsome; but I was sorry that it had been selected as a barrack, and was occupied by a company of sepoys. The altar was converted into a stand for arms, and the god Fo was accoutred with a sheath and cross belt. To complete the absurdity, a green demon before the altar was grinning maliciously from under the weight of a frieze coat. At the entrance of the joss-house is a covered porch, under which are two figures sitting, and in this posture nearly twenty feet high. The interior of the house is handsomely ornamented and gilt; and behind the altar there is a row of some fifteen figures, in a sitting posture, all gilt from head to foot, and forming a very goodly assembly: they represented old men wrapped in togas, with faces expressive of instruction, revelation, and wisdom. There was nothing Chinese in their features; the heads were shaved, and it is to be presumed that they represented the prophets and holy writers who flourished antecedent to the great Fo. The expression on their countenances was admirable; and surprised us the more, from a knowledge how fond the Chinese are of filling their temples with unnatural and unmeaning devils. We then visited a smaller god-house: this the 8th regiment had converted into a theatre. Very little traces of a holy temple were discernible; and the great Fo occupied a corner of the green-room. The scenes were painted in fresco, and the whole affair was very tolerably arranged. Most part of the scenery had been painted by my brother during his stay at this port in the Cambrian. The Chinamen consider this no sacrilege, as they always use the temples as theatres themselves. During the winter months Chusan is very cold, and the snow lies on the ground. The country there abounds with game--deer, swans, partridges, pheasants, and wild fowl of every description: the prices are very moderate; a fine buck may be purchased for a dollar, and a brace of pheasants for a rupee. It was now the month of May, and the swans and geese had departed, and game was becoming scarce as the weather became fine; still, however, there was a duck or so to be picked up, so I joined a party bent on trying their luck, and we prepared for a hard day's work. No one who has not tried it can have an idea of the fatigue of a day's shooting at Chusan. Having a Chinese covered boat, we loaded her with quite sufficient to support nature for twenty-four hours; and pulling about four miles through the channels intersecting the islands, we landed about daylight. Before us was a vast paddy field, into which we plunged up to our knees in mud and water. As we approached one of the dykes which convey the water for the irrigation, caution was observed, not a word was uttered by one of the party, and our good behaviour was rewarded by a brace of fine birds, which were deposited in the bag, carried by a celestial under-keeper. Crossing the dyke, we continued to wade through the paddy fields, shooting some plover and a red-legged partridge, until we arrived at a Chinese village. We passed through it, and fell in with a herd of water buffaloes, as they term them. One of them charged furiously, but the contents of one of our barrels in his eyes made him start in mid career; and having had quite enough into his head, he turned to us his tail. These animals show a great antipathy to Europeans, probably from not having been accustomed to their dress. Red, of course, makes them furious, and, thanks to his jacket, a drummer of one of the regiments was killed by these animals. Towards evening we felt it quite impossible to wade any further; and although nightfall is considered the best time for shooting ducks, we thought it was the best time to return to the boat, which we did not regain, fatigued, hungry, and covered with mud, till ten o'clock at night. [Illustration: VIEW ON THE ISLAND OF POO-TOO. (NEAR CHUSAN.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] One day, strolling in the country about four miles from Chusan, we fell in with a very pretty little house surrounded with trees. The courtesy usually shown to the English at Chusan induced us to enter it, that we might inspect the premises. Its owner, a mandarin, was absent, but his major-domo took us over the whole house. The round doors and oyster-shell windows amused us greatly. The garden was ornamented with artificial rocks, studded with flowering shrubs, with great taste. There were two or three grottoes, in one of which was a joss; and an arbour of lilacs and laburnums, in full bloom, gave a charming appearance to the whole. Thanking the Chinaman for his civility, we went away, much pleased with the mandarin's country retreat. During our stay at Chusan we had made a party to go to the island of Poo-too, but we were hurried away sooner than we expected, and our design was frustrated. I will, however, give a description of the island of Poo-too, as described to me. This island is about forty miles from Chusan, and is inhabited solely by priests. These being condemned to a life of celibacy, no woman resides on the island, which is covered with temples of all descriptions, many of them very handsome, but one in particular, which was built by the emperor. The island is not large, and is laid out like a vast garden, with squares and walks, bridges, &c. We left Chusan, and soon afterwards anchored off the mouth of the Ningpo River, which is only thirty miles to northward and westward of the Chusan isles. The first object of interest before us was the famous joss-house fort, which gave us so much trouble at the capture. General D'Aguilar and Captain Mundy being about to visit the city of Ningpo, a party of us obtained a week's leave of absence for the same purpose. We landed in a ship's boat at Chinghae, a small but tolerably fortified town, which, however, needs no description. There we obtained a covered Chinese boat, in which we put our beds and blankets, intending to live on board her during our stay at Ningpo. Starting with a fair wind and tide, by noon we were within five miles of the city, which is built about forty miles up the river. The banks of the river appeared to be highly cultivated, and the river was crowded with boats of all descriptions, some going up with the tide, others at anchor, waiting for the tide to change, to go in an opposite direction. The first that we saw of Ningpo was a low wall, from the middle of which rose a tall pagoda. This, with innumerable masts of the vessels lying off the town, was all that was visible: nor could we discern much more on a nearer approach. Threading the crowd of vessels which filled the river, on our left we could only see the wall and battlements of the town, the before-mentioned pagoda soaring above every thing. To the right, on the side of the river opposite to the town, were several detached houses, surrounded with low shrubberies; behind these was the Chinese country, and then the eye wandered over countless paddy fields, until it at last rested upon some faint blue mountains in the distance. Among the houses on the right was that of the vice-consul, Mr. Thorn. Anchoring our boat as near to his landing-place as possible, we made arrangements for the night, it being then too late to pay him the accustomed visit. We had, however, scarcely spread our mattresses, and put some supper on the fire, when we were hailed by a Chinese boy, and requested to come on shore. Ignorant from whence the invitation might come, but nothing loath, we hauled our boat to the jetty, and, landing, followed young pigtail, who ushered us through a court-yard into a house of tolerable dimensions, agreeably arranged according to English ideas of comfort. In five minutes more we were introduced to Mr. Mackenzie, an English merchant, who, having been informed of our arrival, had sent for us to request that, during our stay at Ningpo, we would make his house our home. We would not tax his hospitality so far as to sleep at his house, having already made our own arrangements; but we willingly accepted his kind offer of being his guests during the day, and proved our sincerity by immediately sitting down to an excellent dinner, and in the evening we retreated to our boat. The next morning we breakfasted with our host, and then crossed the river, to inspect the city. Having landed at one of the gates, we hired a sort of sedan chairs, which were carried by two athletic Tartars, and proceeded to examine a very remarkable building called the Ruined Pagoda. I shall give Dr. Milne's description of it, taken out of the Chinese repository, as I think it will be better than my own:-- "We bent our steps to the Tien-fung, called by foreigners the Ruined Pagoda. Foreigners make for it as soon as they enter the east gate. After shaping their course in a south-east direction through numberless streets, it abruptly bursts upon the view, rising 160 feet above their heads, and towering high above the surrounding houses. The pagoda is hexagonal, and counts seven stories and twenty-eight windows. Above every window is a lantern, and when the pagoda is illuminated, the effect is very brilliant. This building is in much need of repair, and is daily becoming more dilapidated. It has already deviated many feet from the perpendicular, and might not unaptly be described as the Leaning Tower of Ningpo." Dr. Milne thus describes the view from the summit:-- "The entire city and suburbs lay beneath us; the valley of Ningpo, with its hamlets and villages, hills and rivers, on every side; and away in the distance, on the one hand chains of lofty mountains, the sea, with all its islands, on the other." Dr. Milne asserts that Ningpo is 10,000 years old, and that the pagoda was raised antecedent to the city being built. He concludes by explaining the object of the Chinese in raising these monuments. [Illustration: PAGODA--NINGPO.] The view from the summit is remarkably fine, and the ruinous condition of the pagoda almost warrants the supposition of its being nearly as ancient as Dr. Milne asserts. I made a drawing of it, and we then proceeded to the joss-house, which is considered as the handsomest in the Celestial empire. No part of the building was visible from the street, and we stopped at an unpretending door where we dismounted from our vehicles. A Bhuddist priest, clothed in grey and his head shaved, ushered us through a long gallery into the court-yard of the temple. To describe this building accurately would be impossible. It was gilt and carved from floor to ceiling. The porch was supported by pillars of stone beautifully carved with figures of griffins and snakes. In the court-yard were two lions carved out of a purple marble, and in the middle of the yard was an immense brazen ram highly ornamented with hieroglyphics and allegorical designs. As for the temple itself, it was so vast, so intricate, and so various in its designs and gildings, that I can only say picture to yourself a building composed entirely of carving, coloured porcelain, and gilding, and then you may have a faint idea of it. I attempted to make a drawing of it, but before I had obtained much more than the outline, it was time to recross the river. We dined and passed the evening with Mr. Mackenzie as before. The next morning I walked to the Chinese cemetery with my gun in my hand, and shot a few snipe and wood pigeons, and after breakfast we crossed the river to pay a visit to the shops of Ningpo. The streets of the city are narrow, but superior to any that we had yet seen. The principal streets are ornamented with stone arches, and the huge painted boards used by the Chinese for advertisements give them a very gay appearance. We first entered into a furniture warehouse, some 300 yards in length, and filled with Chinese bedsteads carved and gilt in a very splendid manner. These bedsteads consist of moveable frames about twelve feet square, and within them are disposed couches, chairs, tables, and the requisites for the toilet, besides a writing desk, so that a bedstead in China contains all the furniture of the room. Some of these were valued at five and six hundred dollars, but were very highly ornamented and of exquisite workmanship. A hat shop was the next visited. Its interior would have been considered splendid even in Regent Street. A long highly polished counter with a top of cane-work, was loaded with the hats and caps of Mandarins of every class, and the display was very tempting to those who wanted them. We then passed five minutes in a porcelain warehouse; from the warehouse we went to a toy-shop, and being by this time pretty well encumbered with mandarins' hats and caps, gongs, and a variety of other articles which we did not want, at the same time making the discovery that our purses were not encumbered with dollars as they were when we set forth, we thought it advisable to leave off shopping for the day. The next day we visited the Hall of Confucius, which was not worth seeing, nor could we discover to what use it was dedicated, so we turned from it and went off to see a Chinese play. As we proceeded to the theatre we were surprised to hear a lad singing "Jim along Josey," we turned round and found it was a real pig tail who was singing, and we inquired where he learnt the air. We found that he had served on board one of our vessels during the Chinese war, so we hired the young traitor as a cicerone during our stay at Ningpo, and ordered him to follow us to the theatre, which as usual was a temple or joss-house. [Illustration: CHINESE JOSS HOUSE AT NINGPO. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] We found it crowded with Chinese, and the actors were performing on a raised platform. Our entrance caused a great sensation, and for a short time the performance was unnoticed by the audience. Our beaver hats quite puzzled them, for we were in plain clothes; even the actors indulged in a stare, and for a short time we were "better than a play." The Chinese acting has been often described: all I can say is, that so far it was like real life that all the actors were speaking at one time, and it was impossible to hear what they said, even if the gongs had not kept up a continual hammering, which effectually drowned the voices. At all events they were well off in the property line, being all very showily dressed. Fireworks were at intervals exploded, and occasionally a tumbler would perform some feat, but I felt little interest in the performance, and kept my eyes on the gallery containing the ladies, among whom I saw one or two very pretty faces. The wall round Ningpo is built wide enough for a carriage drive. It has embrasures, but no guns were mounted. By ascending some steps near to the town gate we found ourselves on the top of the wall, and walked half round the town on the parapet. It was very extensive, and, as far as the eye could reach, the plain was studded with country houses of a slate colour. I forgot to mention that while here we visited a sect of Chinese nuns or female devotees. They were assembled in a large room, at one end of which was an image of the god Fo. Each nun was seated at a small table on which was a reading stand and a book of prayers. They were all reading, and at the same time beating a hollow painted piece of wood: the latter duty was, we were informed, to keep up the attention of the god. What with them all gabbling at once, and the tapping noise made with the wood, god Fo appeared more likely to have his attention distracted than otherwise. However, it was of no consequence, as Fo was one of that description of gods mentioned in the Bible, among whose attributes we find, "Ears have they, but they hear not." We remained here a week, and I was much interested with what I saw; but so much has already been written about the Chinese, that I wish to confine myself to what may be considered unbroken ground. As the time fixed for our departure approached, we determined to go to Chinghae overland, in chairs. Taking a farewell of our kind and hospitable host, Mr. Mackenzie, we each took a chair, and took our departure. The road was interesting, being at one time through tea plantations, and at another through paddy fields. Our bearers were strong muscular fellows, and thought little of carrying us twenty-five miles. We passed crowds of Chinamen irrigating the land, and working in the paddy fields. In some instances they favoured us with a salute of yells and stones; and as we approached Chinghae, the unwashed vented their feelings in some very unpleasant ways. In the town we were followed by a mob; and by the time we had reached the quay, and procured a boat to take us off to the ship, the whole town had turned out. Tapping one or two of the most officious with the bamboo oars, we managed to shove the boat off, and pulled on board. We sailed for Chusan the same evening, but this time I unfortunately was attacked by one of the prevailing diseases of the country, and was confined to my hammock. We revisited Amoy, and then shaped our course for Hong Kong. On our arrival, we found no ship there but the Castor, the admiral and fleet being employed on the coast of Borneo, subduing the pirates in Maludu Bay. The ship being again about to start for the northward, I was considered too unwell to remain in her, and was sent on board the Minden hospital ship, to live or to die, as it might please God. The Minden hospital ship is a fine 74; and as all the guns, masts, and stores, had been landed at the time that she was selected for the duty, there was great accommodation on board of her; but great as it was, unfortunately there was not sufficient to meet the demands upon it in this unhealthy climate. A description of her internal arrangement may not be uninteresting. The quarter-deck and poop was set apart for the convalescents; but the heat of the sun was so overpowering, that it was not until late in the afternoon that they could breathe the purer atmosphere. Long confinement below had left them pale and wan, and their unsteady gait proved how much they had suffered in their constitution, and how narrowly they had escaped the grave. To some this escape had been beneficial, as their constant perusal of the Bible established; others, if they even had during their illness alarms about their future state, had already dismissed them from their thoughts, and were impatiently awaiting their return to health to return to past folly and vice. The main deck was allotted to the medical and other officers belonging to the ship, the seamen who composed the ship's company, and also on this deck were located the seamen who had been discharged cured, and who then waited for the arrival of their ships, which were absent from Hong Kong. On this deck, abaft all, was the inspector's cabin, and adjoining it the mess-room of the assistant-surgeons, who, like all their class, rendered callous by time and habit to their dangerous and painful duty, thought only of driving away the memory of the daily mortality to which they were witnesses by jovial living and mirth. Indeed nothing could be a more harassing scene than that of the lower deck, where the patients were located. Under any circumstances an hospital is a depressing and afflicting sight, even with all the advantages of clean well-regulated wards, attentive nurses, and pure ventilation. Imagine then the feelings of a sick wretch, stretched on a canvass cot, who is first hoisted up the ship's side, and then lowered down a dark hatchway (filled with anxiety and forebodings as to his ever leaving the vessel alive) to the scene of misery which I am about to describe--the lower deck of the Minden hospital ship. This lower deck has on each side of it three rows of iron bedsteads, for the most part filled with the dead and dying; an intolerable stench, arising from putrefaction, which it is impossible by any means to get rid of, salutes his descent; and to this is added the groans of lingering sufferers. He may chance, God help him, to be lowered down at the very hour of the inspecting surgeon's visits. The latter is seated by a bed, having probably just performed, or in the act of performing, an operation. The goodly array of instruments meets his eye, and he wonders, as they are displayed, what these several instruments of torture can be applied to; the groans of the patient fall upon his ear, and his nerves are so shattered and debilitated by disease, that the blood curdles to his heart. The inspector writes the particulars of the case on a printed form, while the dressers are passing bandages round the fainting patient. As soon as he is out of the cot which lowered him down, the new arrival is washed, and clothed in hospital linen, ready to be put into a bed. Not unfrequently he has to wait till room can be made for him, by removing the corpse of the last occupant, just deceased. He is then placed on it, a coarse sheet is thrown over him, and he is left to await the inspector's visit, which, as that officer has all his former patients first to prescribe for, may perhaps be not for an hour or two, or more. At last he is visited, prescribed for, a can of rice-water is placed at the head of his bed, and he is left to his own thoughts, if the groans of those around him, and the horror that he feels at his situation, will permit him to reach them. If he can do so, they must be any thing but agreeable; and a clever medical man told me that this admission into the hospital, and the scene which the patient was introduced to, was quite sufficient, acting upon a mind unnerved by disease, to produce fever. Excepting that the hospital was too crowded, which indeed could not be prevented, there was, however, every arrangement for the comfort of the patients which could be made under such a climate. No one was to blame--the hospital for the military was building, and until it was ready for the reception of the patients, the men of both services were received on board of the Minden. But if the day is so trying, who can describe the horrors of the night? The atmosphere becomes still more foul and pestilential, from the partially closed port-holes, and from the indifference of the nurses to the necessary cleanliness required. The whole becomes alive with cockroaches and other vermin, creeping over the patients; and the mosquitoes prey upon the unfortunate sufferer, or drive him mad with their unceasing humming preparatory to their attacks. Add these new trials to the groans of the dying, which, during my residence on board, never ceased, and at night were more awful and painfully distinct. The nurses were all men, obtained from the scum of the sea-ports, for no others would volunteer for the duty--a set of brutes indifferent to the sufferings of others. As long as they were, during the day, superintended and watched by the officers, they did their duty, but at night the neglect was most shameful. In fact, these wretches composed themselves to sleep instead of watching. Patients may in vain call, in a feeble voice, for water--the only answer is a snore. On one occasion, having listened to the call of a poor fellow for more than an hour, and each time in a weaker voice, for drink, I was obliged to get up myself to wake the nurse, that the man might not die of thirst.[2] [Footnote 2: These rascally nurses have all been discharged. When enlisted as nurses in England, they signed for three years' service. When their time was expired, they applied to Admiral Cochrane for their discharge. After some demur their request was complied with; but their conduct had been so disgraceful, that, as it was not in the agreement, they were refused a passage home in a man-of-war. I met some of them ashore at Hong Kong, looking in vain for employment, and at a distance of 20,000 miles from their own country. The retribution was just.] My cabin, for all the officers were separated from the men, commanded the whole view of the lower deck, and I was compelled to be witness of scenes of the most frightful description. An English sailor had been hung for murder, in consequence of his accomplice, who was by far the most criminal of the two, having turned queen's evidence. This latter soon afterwards was brought on board the Minden, having been attacked with the fever, and never was there such an evidence of the racking of a bad conscience. In his ravings he shrieked for mercy, and then would blaspheme in the most awful manner. At one moment the spectre of his dead comrade would be invoked by him, requesting it to depart, or desiring those around him to take it away. At others, the murdered man was standing at his bed-side, and he would attempt to run, that he might flee from the vision. Thus was he haunted, and thus did he disturb all around him till his very last hour, when he died in an extreme of agony, physical and mental. What a relief it was when this poor wretch was at last silent! Almost every day there was to be seen a Roman Catholic priest administering the last unction to some disciple of his faith, some Irish soldier or sailor, whose hour was come. On these occasions the amputation table was his altar, and a brass flat candlestick the only ornament. He never failed to be at his post every day, and was a good old man. At the same time that the old priest was officiating by the side of one bed, the chaplain of the ship would be attending the last moments of some other victim. On these occasions all would be silent on the deck, even the groans were stifled and checked for the time, and nothing would be heard but the muttered prayer of the Catholic priest, or the last, and often futile, attempts of the clergyman of our own creed to extract some sign of faith and hope from the fast-sinking and almost senseless patient. "He dies, and makes no sign! O God, forgive him!" At times the uproar on the deck would be appalling. Some powerful man in the strength of delirium would rise from his bed, and, bursting from some half-dozen of the nurses, would rush through the tiers of beds roaring like a bull, and dealing blows right and left upon the unfortunate sick men who fell in his way. Then there would be general chase after him, until, overpowered by additional help, he was brought back to his bed and confined by force. An hour or two afterwards, the nurses who watched him would quit the side of the pallet; a sheet would be thrown over it; no other communication was necessary to tell me that the storm had been succeeded by a calm, and that life's fitful fever was over. At the forepart of the hospital deck is a bath room; adjoining to that is a small dark cabin, with no other furniture than a long white-washed board, laid upon two tressels, with hooks fixed to the carlines of the deck. Above these the dead bodies are removed: immediately after their decease a _post mortem_ examination is made by the assistant surgeon, a report of which is sent into the inspector. A port-hole has a wooden shoot or slide fixed to it, by which the bodies are ejected into the boat waiting to convey them for interment. The church service is read every morning on the hospital deck, and during the performance the strictest attention was paid by the patients. When convalescent I enjoyed the privilege of walking on the poop with the others who had been spared, and truly grateful was I for my recovery. Such scenes as I have described could not but have the effect upon me: I hope that I left the hospital a wiser and a better man. At last the time came when I was pronounced by the doctors to be quite cured, and at liberty to leave the ship. I hardly need say that I did so with alacrity. I had always before this considered Hong Kong as a most disgusting place; but now that I had been so long cooped up with disease and death, it appeared to me as a paradise. I had made one or two acquaintances during my former visits, and now found their kind offers too welcome to refuse them. Having nothing to do, and not being even obliged to present myself on board of the Mind en, I enjoyed myself excessively in journeys and excursions to the other side of the island. My acquaintances were the officers of the 42d regiment, who were remarkably kind and intelligent men, and during my stay I was a great deal in their society. We one day made up a party to visit Pirate's Bay, a spot on the Chinese main, about twelve miles from Hong Kong. Starting early, we took our guns and the requisites for a pic-nic. When we arrived at the spot, we hired the only respectable house in the place, left a native to make the necessary arrangements for our dinner, and then started on a cruise to view the country. We shot at any thing that came in our way, and by noon our game-bag contained a curious medley of ducks, paroquets, swallows, and water rats. By this time the sun became so overpowering that we returned to the house which had been hired for our accommodation. Here we dined, and returned to Hong Kong well pleased with our trip. The roads at Hong Kong, though not particularly good, have been made at great expence. Large rocks have been cut through to afford communication, and the quantity of rivulets running down from the mountains, have rendered it necessary to build innumerable bridges. There were but few good horses on the island; but I managed to procure a tolerable one, and in the evening would ride out by "Happy Valley," and return by dark, the only exercise which the heat of the climate would permit, and which was necessary to restore me to health. Society is in a queer state here, as may be imagined when I state, that the shipowner won't associate with the small merchant, and the latter will not deign to acknowledge a man who keeps a store. Under these circumstances, the army and navy keep aloof, and associate with no class. There were very few ladies at Hong Kong at this time, and of what class they were composed of may be imagined, when I state that a shopkeeper's sister was the belle of the place, and received all the homage of the marriageable men of Hong Kong. Hospitality to strangers is as yet unknown, and a letter of introduction is only good for one tiffin, or more rarely one dinner. I made several excursions in the country, but did not find any thing worth narrating, or describing with the pencil. [Illustration: TANKA BOAT WOMEN.] It is here worthy of remark, that there is every prospect of all the enormous expense which has been bestowed upon this island being totally thrown away, and that those who have speculated will lose all their money; in fact, that in a few years Hong Kong will be totally deserted, and all the money expended upon it will be lost. To explain this I must mention a few facts, not probably known to my readers. When, many years ago, the trade with foreigners was first permitted by the Chinese government, Canton was selected as the port from which it should be carried on. The Chinese government had two reasons for making this selection: their first was, their dislike and jealousy of foreigners induced them to select a port at the very confines of the empire where the communication with them should take place, so that by no chance the foreigners should obtain any thing like a footing in or knowledge of their country; the second reason was, that by so doing they obtained, at the expence of the foreigners, a very considerable inland revenue from the tea trade. Canton is situated at least 500 miles from those provinces in which the tea is grown, and the transit to Canton is over a very mountainous range, at the passes of which tolls are levied by the government, which are now said to amount annually to seven millions. The assertion, therefore, of the Chinese government that they do not care about the trade is very false, for they have derived a great revenue from it. The opening of the more northern ports, which was obtained by the war with China, has already made a great difference, and every year will make a greater. Shang-hai, one of the ports opened, and the farthest to the northward, is situated on the confines of the great tea country, and vessels going there to take in their cargoes avoid all the duties of transit, and procure the tea in a much better condition. The merchants of Canton, moreover, who traffic in tea, are all of them for the most part people of the province of Shang-hai, who resort to Canton to look after their interests, but now that the port of Shang-hai is opened, their merchants are returning to their own country, the English merchants are settling at Shang-hai, and the vessels are going there to load with tea direct. Already a large portion of the traffic has left Canton and gone to Shang-hai, and it is but natural to suppose, that in a few years the tea trade will be carried on altogether from that port, as the expence of transit over the mountains and the duties levied will be avoided, as well as the advantage gained of having the tea in a much better condition when shipped on board. How the Chinese government will act when it finds that it loses the great revenue arising from the trade being carried on at Canton remains to be seen, but it will, probably, succumb to another war, if such is considered necessary. It will be a curious subject of interest to watch the fall of Hong Kong, of Macao, and also of Canton itself, with its turbulent population, which must, when the trade is withdrawn, fall into insignificance. The great error of the last war was, our selection of such an unhealthy and barren island as Hong Kong as our _pied-à-terre_ in China, when we might have had Chusan, or, indeed, any other place which we might have insisted upon. We thought that Chusan was unhealthy because we barracked our soldiers in the swamps, and consequently lost many of the men, when, as it is a most healthy and delightful climate, had the barracks been built on the hills, we probably should not have lost a man. Even now it is not too late. The Chinese dislike our propinquity to their coast at Hong Kong, and the last expedition will have the effect of increasing this dislike. I think, with very little difficulty, the Chinese government would now exchange Chusan for Hong Kong, if it were only to keep such unpleasant barbarians, as the English have proved to be, at a more respectable distance. If we had possession of Chusan, the trade would come to our ports. The Chinese junks would come to us loaded with tea, and take our goods in return. The trade would then be really thrown open, which at present it is not. [Illustration: MAN-OF-WAR JUNK.] Murders and robberies were of daily, or, rather, nightly occurrence at Hong Kong, the offenders being Chinese, who are the most daring robbers perhaps in the world. [Illustration: TRADING JUNKS.] I must now detail the events of a cruise of the Samarang during the time that I was in the Iris, and I avail myself of the private journal of one of my friends. May 9th, sailed from Hong Kong to Batan, to complete the survey of the Bashee group. On the 20th we left Batan to run to Ibyat, about twenty miles from the former island, and although a high table land, it is low when compared with Batan. I never saw an island less inviting in appearance than Ibyat. We landed at the foot of a precipice, nearly perpendicular, and ascended to the summit by means of rough ladders, placed upright against large masses of rock; on either side of which were gaping chasms, the very sight of which were sufficient to unnerve us. This plan was not only the best for landing on this strange island, but, as the natives informed us, was almost the only one where a landing could be effected without great danger. It was near sunset when we landed; the boats returned to the ship, leaving us to partake of the hospitality of the padres from Batan, who had taken a passage in the ship, as they had some spiritual business to transact on this island. About 8 P. M., we arrived at the village of San Raphael, where we slept in a house set apart for the use of the padres. This village is situated in the centre of the island, built in a valley and on eminences which surround it. The most commanding position is occupied by the church and mission house, both of which are much larger, although built of the same materials, and on the same plan, as the houses of the natives. There was but one room in the mission house, which was scantily furnished with some heavy wooden chairs, and some cane settees for bed places; however, thanks to the kindness of the padres, we contrived to make ourselves very comfortable. There are four villages in the island, San Raphael, Santa Maria, Santa Lucia, and Santa Rosa; each consisting of about forty houses, containing about 300 people; so that the population may be taken, at a rough guess, at about 1200. The natives profess the Roman Catholic religion, and appear to be very sincere in their devotion. Divine service is performed morning and evening, at which time the boys and girls of the village walk to the church in two lines, chanting a hymn to the Virgin Mary. Each line is headed by the youngest of either sex, bearing a cross. The boys wore nothing but the middle cloth, and the girls were almost as scantily clothed; the only garment being a skirt or petticoat, not larger than a moderate sized pocket-handkerchief. During two days our friends, the padres, were fully occupied with the important ceremonies of marriage and baptism. Many of the parties joined in matrimony were mere children. They all had, on this important occasion, some addition to their general costume. The bridegroom, for instance, wore a shirt; some of them had actually a pair of trousers. The bride had an additional and large petticoat, and an embroidered handkerchief. They were not at all bashful--there was no blushing--no tears, and, on the contrary, marriage appeared to be considered as an excellent joke, and the laughing and flirtation were carried on to the church door. The padres appeared to be almost worshipped by the poor natives, who, on their arrival and departure, respectfully saluted their hands. But their great affection was shown in a more satisfactory and substantial manner, by the continual supply of goats, pigs, fowls, vegetables, and fruit, which were liberally supplied during our stay. I forgot to say that the marriage certificates were of a very primitive kind; they consisted of a laurel leaf, in which were rudely inscribed the names of the bride and bridegroom. At length, having finished our survey, we bid farewell to our hospitable entertainers, and on the 27th made sail for St. Domingo. We remained two days at St. Domingo, and then weighed and steered to the northward. On the 3d of June we landed on the island of Samazana, near the south point of Formosa. The inhabitants of Samazana are Chinese, although they pay no tribute to the emperor. This island was first inhabited, about twenty years since, by a party of Chinese sailors, who were thrown on shore in a tempest. They afterwards returned to Amoy, where, having persuaded several families to join them, they returned to Samazana, and colonised it. The fertility of this island has richly repaid them for their labour. The village contains about 100 people, who are located in about ten or fifteen houses. Paddy, sugar-cane, and yams are grown in abundance, and ground nuts cover nearly one third of the island. These Chinese settlers keep up a trade with Amoy, from whence they obtain what they require, in exchange for the productions of their island. We found these people very civil and obliging, but excessively dirty in their persons and apparel. About seven o'clock in the evening, while we were dining on the beach, an earthquake shook the island, the glasses jingled together, and all our party were in involuntary see-saw motion, like the Chinese figures. This lasted about ten seconds. Several of us, who had never before experienced the sensation, were much relieved when the shock was over, as it created a suffocating sensation. During the evening there were several other shocks, but none of them equal to the first in violence. We remained all night on the island, to ascertain the latitude by the stars. On the following morning we returned on board, when we were informed that the ship had struck on a reef on the preceding evening, at 7 P. M. The lead was thrown overboard, but no soundings were obtained, proving, beyond doubt, that the concussion had been communicated to the vessel. She was about four miles off the land at the time, and many would not then be convinced that it was an earthquake; although I believe it has been satisfactorily proved that the shock has been felt by a vessel which has been out of sight of any land. On the 6th of June sighted one of the Madjicosima islands. The master in the second cutter left the ship, with a week's provisions, to survey the island, while we made sail for our former anchorage at Pa-tchu-san, to obtain water. On the 8th of June we arrived at Pa-tchu-san, where we were received by our friends, the chiefs, who appeared delighted to see us again. We learnt through our interpreter that a French frigate had left Loo-choo for Corea two months before--twenty-seven of their countrymen, chiefly missionaries, having been murdered by the Coreans. It would appear that the French missionaries, exceeding their vocation, had wished to make some alterations in the Corean form of government, but their attempts not meeting the approbation of those in power, they fell a sacrifice to their good intentions. On the 9th we sailed for Sabangyat to pick up the two cutters. We arrived there the next day, and were joined by the master. We received every attention from the hospitable and inoffensive natives, who supplied us with pigs, fowls, and vegetables, refusing to accept any thing in return. We returned to Pa-tchu-san to rate our chronometers, and sailed on the same day. The next morning we landed on Hoa-pen, an island, but the cloudy weather prevented us from obtaining the latitude. We landed during the day, and remained on shore the whole night to obtain our objects, and, I may add, were most cruelly bitten by the mosquitoes as a reward for our zeal. When we were returning to the ship on the following morning, a large albatross alighted on the water close to the boat. As we passed it, it made several futile attempts to rise again on the wing. It is well known that this bird cannot fly while under the influence of fear, and so it appeared in this instance, for, while we were passing it, a shark thrust its head out of the water and took the unfortunate bird down with him. On the 16th we landed at Tea-qua-san, where we captured great numbers of albatrosses, ferns, and boobies. They actually refused to move at our approach. This island is very small and uninhabited, but it was evident that people had landed on it lately, for in a cave we discovered several grass beds, remains of game, and remnants of cooking. The weather prevented us from making any observations, but it did not prevent us from collecting several hundreds of eggs, which we took on board with us. The next day we saw a large rock, marked doubtful on the charts. A heavy squall, which forced us to run before it for several hours, prevented us from ascertaining its position. June 19. We found ourselves close to the southern extremity of Loo-choo, the land of which is low. About noon we anchored in the harbour of Napa-kiang, and were boarded by several mandarins, one of whom the captain recognised as the interpreter of the Blossom, whose interesting cruise has been published by Captain Beechey. The natives of Loo-choo are so similar to those of the Madjicosima group that it would be useless describing their manners and customs, the more so as we have already the works of Captain Hall and Captain Beechey, in which they are described most accurately. A great many junks were anchored in the inner harbour, their enormous masts towering far above the highest buildings. The burial ground is a large tract of land to the left of the town; the tombs are large, and in shape resemble the last letter in the Greek alphabet ([Greek: Omega]). Strange that it should be the last letter. Most of them are painted white, and they have from the anchorage a very picturesque appearance. It was the captain's intention to have sailed on the day after our arrival, but the weather proving unfavourable for astronomical observations, our departure was postponed for another day, when, having obtained sights, some live stock, and vegetables, we sailed for Guilpat, a large island off the southern extremity of Corea. Previous to our sailing, a French missionary called on the captain. He had been left at Loo-choo by the Alcimene frigate, with a view of introducing Christianity into the island, but the chiefs did not appear to relish his sojourn there, and were anxious to get rid of him. He offered to accompany us to Corea and Japan; at the latter place he would have been of great service, as he was acquainted with the Japanese language. June 24. Sighted the Goth island, a portion of the Japanese empire. The next morning the wind had increased to a heavy gale, and we were compelled to reduce our canvass to a close-reefed main topsail, staysail, and trysail. We rounded Cape Goth within a quarter of a mile, and lay to under the lee of the island, where the sea was comparatively smooth. Towards the evening the wind subsided, and we again made sail. Saw the island of Guilpat, and the next morning anchored off the north-east side of it, in a channel between Guilpat and a small island. We landed on the small island, where we were received by about sixty natives, who did not appear well pleased at our intrusion, but knew that resistance to us would be useless. In the course of the day several thousand natives had assembled on the opposite shore. By the aid of good telescopes we could discern forts and flags. The natives informed us that Guilpat had a standing army, well supplied with matchlocks, swords, and bows and arrows. They added that guns are not wanted to defend the island in case of need. This assertion we afterwards found, making allowance for a little exaggeration, to be quite correct. The island of Guilpat is subject to the kingdom of Corea, and is the largest in that archipelago, being about thirty miles in length and fifteen in breadth. It is composed of innumerable hills in every variety of form, such as cones, saddles, and tables. Most of these hills have forts built on their summits. From these, lights were displayed every evening, and it was astonishing the rapidity with which these signals were answered. I have seen the whole coast illuminated in less than five minutes, each hill appearing like a little volcano, suddenly bursting out. As soon as the boats had surveyed this part of the island, we shifted the ship to where the survey was being carried on; and this we continued to do during the whole time that we were employed in the survey, the boats returning on board every night. Good anchorage is to be obtained all round the island. Innumerable forts and batteries are built along the coast; every rising ground being surmounted with one, although the major portion of them were not supplied with guns. We found as we coasted along that all the forts were manned, the people being armed with matchlocks, spears, and arrows. On several occasions they fired their matchlocks, and the salute was returned by the 6-pounders in the barges, which never failed of putting them to flight. In the centre of the island the land runs to an enormous height, and terminates in a sharp peak, which, in consequence of its always having been enveloped with clouds, we did not see till several days after our arrival. At last we arrived at the principal town, which is situated on the western side of the island. The town was inclosed with thick walls, higher than we had observed before as we coasted along. These walls form a square, each side of which is about half a mile in length, and has batteries, parapets, and embrasures. In some of the latter there were guns, which were occasionally fired. The whole ground before the town, for the distance of a mile and a half, was crowded with people; but if they waited for our landing they were disappointed, as the captain would not land. They gave us two bullocks, which were put into the barge, as the ship was then ten or twelve miles off. The mandarins used every argument to persuade the captain to come on shore and visit the chiefs of the island; but, as we had but twenty men in the boats, he refused to trust himself among eight or ten thousand whose intentions were any thing but satisfactory. However, he promised that he would come on shore on the following day, but that at present he was obliged to visit a point of the bay to obtain observations before sunset. We now prepared to move in the barge, but found ourselves encompassed by twelve or fourteen large boats, fastened to each other by strong ropes. We desired them to make a passage, but they either did not, or would not, understand us. This looked very much like treachery, and decided measures were become requisite: the nearest boats were boarded, and the crews made to cut their ropes. Some of them appeared inclined to resist, but a smart stroke of the cutlass put their courage to flight. This affair took place within twenty yards of the beach, and in sight of 10,000 people on the shore. We now being clear, pulled for the point and secured our station. A great crowd collected around us while we were observing; the chiefs expressed a wish, in a peremptory sort of way, that the officers should partake of some refreshment at a short distance from the beach. This the captain, who suspected treachery, refused, and as we were going near to our boats, some of the natives laid violent hands upon our men, but having received from them a few specimens of our method of boxing, they soon quitted their hold. The Chinese interpreter was now missing; our men in consequence procured their arms, and landing, a strict search was made for him. He was found some little distance on land, having been enticed away by one of the chiefs, who was plying him with sam-schoo. On his way to return they forcibly detained him, and were in the act of conveying him away, when the appearance of the armed party from the boat surprised them, and they hastened to convey their own persons out of reach of our bayonets. It was not, however, our intention, or our policy, to commence hostilities, only to show them that we would not be trifled with. We returned from the point to the beach before the town, when the boat's guns were loaded with round and grape, and pointed at the crowd assembled, in case of any further treachery. The captain then landed with the small armed party, all ready for resistance. Music was now heard in the distance, and soon afterwards one of the principal chiefs arrived, walking beneath a silken canopy. He was attended by two young lads and a band of spearmen, who prevented the mob from approaching too close to his highness's person. The multitude shouted, and bowed their heads to the ground as the chief passed them; the latter took no notice of their acclamations, but advanced in a very stately dignified manner towards the captain, apparently keeping time to the music, which was played by a band of men, dressed in a very fantastic manner, on cymbals and instruments resembling our clarionets. The negotiations were now opened: the captain expressed his surprise and disgust at the treatment he had experienced at the point, where he had been taking observations. The chief inquired of the captain, in reply, why he did not shoot the offenders? and assured him that, if the next time he was annoyed by the rabble he would shoot a few of them, it would have a very salutary effect upon the remainder. In the course of conversation, the captain informed the mandarin that England possessed ships carrying 120 guns of larger caliber than those on board of the vessel he commanded; and that altogether, including large and small, the Queen of England had 800 vessels. This account was evidently discredited, as it always was when such an assertion was made in those seas, for looking round him and explaining the nature of the communication to his followers, they all laughed. Asang, the interpreter, then gave them a history of the Chinese war, on which he dwelt upon our immense resources, the size and number of our vessels, and the fire ships (steamers) which we had employed; but it was evident that the Quelpartians did not believe one word of his assertions. Before the conference was over, rice, cakes, and sam-schoo were handed round, and the captain promised that he would visit the chief mandarin on the following day. By this time, the ship had come to an anchor in the bay, and we returned on board. The next morning we got the ship under weigh, and brought her nearer to the town, so that her guns could be brought to bear in case of need; but when within 100 yards of the shore, and in the act of going about, the ship struck with great violence against a rock. Hawsers were laid out, and with our usual good fortune, we again got into deep water, and in half an hour anchored off the town in a favourable position for cannonading it. We then landed our force, consisting of all the marines, with the drummer and fiddler, besides a party of small-arm men from the blue jackets, all armed with muskets, bayonets, and cutlasses. The officers, in addition to their swords, carried pistols in their belts. A feu-de-joie was now fired, for the double purpose of creating an awe among the crowd, and ascertaining that all the muskets were in good order; for the mandarin resided some miles from the beach, and in case of attack we must have fought hard to regain our boats and the protection of the ship's guns. All being ready, the drummer and fiddler struck up a lively air, and we commenced our march towards the mandarin's house, the officers being accommodated with horses. After passing over a morass, the waters of which ran sluggishly through the arches of a bridge, connecting the suburbs with the city, we ascended a rocky eminence, from the summit of which we had a bird's eye view of the city, and some portion of the interior. We observed that the ramparts of the city were lined with people. Our train was nearly a mile in length, although the natives were walking ten or twelve abreast. Immediately after our party came the band of the natives, dressed in russet-coloured cloth, with shawls of the same material; after them the mandarin, followed by above 200 soldiers, a dense mob bringing up the rear, with flags and banners displayed. On the inland side of us was an immense plain, bounded in the distance by high mountains, whose tops were enveloped in clouds. This plain was mostly cultivated; that portion of it which was barren had been appropriated to burial grounds, several of which we passed through. At the head of the graves were stone figures intending to represent human beings, but Chantry had not been employed. At length, having walked round two-thirds of the walls, we entered a defile, leading to one of the gates of the city, but to our surprise, when we arrived at the gate, we found that it was locked, and when the cause was demanded, we were informed that the mandarin refused to allow the soldiers to enter, but that the officers would be admitted alone. This communication greatly irritated the captain, and our position caused us some uneasiness. We were inclosed within two high walls in a narrow lane, our advance prevented by the locked up gate, and our retreat must be through thousands who had formed the cavalcade, and were now in our rear. Our only passage was through this multitude, and I hardly need say that we were convinced of the treachery of the people. However, there was no time to be lost: the word was given, the marines formed a front line, cocked their muskets, and then brought them to the charge bayonets; and in this way, the crowd retreating before us, we forced our way back, until we were again clear of the high walls which had flanked us; but our position even then was not pleasant. We had to pass the fort and several encampments before we could arrive at the beach, which was at least four miles distant. However, we put a good face on the matter, and forcibly detaining one of the mandarins upon the pretence that he must show us the way back, with the threat, that upon the slightest molestation on the part of his countrymen, we would blow his brains out, we commenced our march back to the beach, our two musicians playing with great energy, "Go to the devil and shake yourselves," which tune, struck up upon their own suggestion, was the occasion of great laughter among our party. At last we reached the beach without opposition, and the mandarin, who was terribly alarmed, was released. When we arrived, the chiefs attempted to throw all the blame upon the head mandarin, but the captain would no longer stand their humbug. He replied to them, that if any of their principal men had visited the ship they would have been treated with respect and kindness, and that the number of their armed retainers would have made no difference in their reception; that he considered them as faithless in all their protestations of good-will, and from thenceforth he should place no reliance on any thing that they said; that for the future he would act as he thought proper without consulting them, and that he would shoot any one who attempted to interfere with him. We then got into the boats and returned on board, where we heard that the cutter's crew had been compelled to kill or wound some of the natives, who had come down in a body and attacked one of the men with fire-brands. The cutter was at anchor a short distance from the shore; on the natives approaching they seized their muskets, but did not fire until their shipmate was in danger of his life. Two of the natives had fallen and had been carried off by their comrades. [Illustration: QUELPARTIANS. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] The Quelpartians cultivate paddy (from which they distil their sam-schoo), sweet potatoes, and radishes, which, with shell-fish, form the principal articles of food with the lower classes. Pigs, bullocks, and fowls appeared to be plentiful, although we obtained but few. All their towns are enclosed with a stone wall; the houses are also built of stone, and mostly tiled with a species of red slate; but we had few opportunities of inspecting them, as the natives kept so strict a watch upon us, and so outnumbered us. These Coreans presented a strong contrast to the Loo Chooans, who are so polite in their manner and kind in their demeanour. These Quelpartians, on the contrary, are very unprepossessing in their appearance, rude and boisterous in their manner, and of very gross habits. They insisted upon feeling and inspecting every article of our clothing, even baring our breasts to ascertain their colour, and in many other respects proving themselves very annoying. This was submitted to at first, with the hope of securing their good-will, but afterwards very decided measures were taken to repulse these dirty wretches, whose clothes smelt most offensively. They have the high cheek bone and elongated eye of the Tartar, or northern Chinese, from whom I am inclined to think they are descended. The crown of the head is closely shaved, leaving a circle of long hair, which is tied in a knot on the top of the skull (similar to the people of Loo Choo), but without any ornament. Round the forehead is fastened a bandanna, about four inches in width, resembling fine net-work in texture, but it is made with horsehair. This is used to keep the hair in its proper position. But the most singular part of their costume is the hat, which is made of the same materials as the fillets: the brim is about four feet in width, and this gives to the wearer a very grotesque appearance. The crown in shape resembles a sugar-loaf with the top cut off, and is very small in diameter. It admits the top-knot of hair, and nothing more. [Illustration: MANDARIN OF QUELPART. (COREA.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] The lower orders generally wear a felt hat, but of the same dimensions and shape. The hats of the mandarins are secured on their heads by strings of amber beads and large ivory balls, and then passed under the chin. Rank is denoted by the peacock's feather in the hat. The army are distinguished by a tuft of red horsehair stuck in the crown. The respectable part of the inhabitants have several garments; the outer ones are of various colours, but the cut of them extends to all ranks. I can liken it to nothing but a long pinbefore, slit up in front, behind, and at the two sides. Under this they wear other garments, the texture and quality of which, as well as quantity, depend upon the wealth of the wearer. The sleeves of their dresses are wide and long. In spite of their thick mustachios and long flowing beards, they have the appearance of a very effeminate people. One evening we saw a large turtle asleep as we pulled along the coast. A Sandwich Islander, belonging to the gig's crew, went in the water and turned him, holding him in this position till a rope was made fast to him, and he was secured. At night we landed on a small island, and we cooked our prize for our supper. I mention it as a proof of the man's dexterity. Completed our survey of the Quelpart, and stood to the N. E. The next morning we found ourselves close to a labyrinth of islands, not laid down on any chart. The captain named the group after the ship; and, having in three days completed the survey of them, we stood further to the northward and eastward. It would be tedious to detail our surveying operations. We saw the main land of Corea, but did not go on shore; and our provisions getting low, we bore all for the southward. After calling again at Quelpart, where we remained a few days, we made sail for Nangasaki, a seaport town in the empire of Japan. We were some distance in the offing in sight of the town of Nangasaki, when several boats, gaily decorated with flags of various shades and colours, came out to meet the ship and accompany us to the anchorage. One of them brought a letter, written in mingled Dutch and French, inquiring from whence and why we came. The bearer, who was a great man in authority, desired the captain to anchor immediately; but this the captain refused, telling him that he should anchor his ship when and where he pleased. We afterwards discovered that these were all government boats, and that they were always placed as a guard upon any ship which visited Nangasaki. [Illustration: JAPANESE BOAT.] The crews were all dressed alike, in chequered blue and white cotton dresses; the boats are propelled with sculls used as oars, the men keeping time to a monotonous song. Forts, or rather the ghosts of forts, appeared as if raised by magic; they were easily distinguished to be formed out of immense screens of coloured cotton, and they were surrounded by flags and pennons. Although not effective, their effect was good at a distance. [Illustration: JAPANESE. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] In the evening, a large assembly of the principal men visited the ship; they wore very loose jackets and trowsers. The jackets reached no lower than the hips, where they were confined by a silk or silver girdle, containing two swords, one somewhat larger than the other. The handles and sheaths of their swords were beautifully inlaid with copper, and japanned in a very peculiar manner. They were very curious to know the name and use of every article which excited their attention, and we were much surprised at their display of so much theoretical knowledge. They particularly admired the touch-hole of our guns, which are fired with the detonating tube. The properties of the elevating screws were minutely examined; and we were inclined to believe that many of our visitors were artificers, sent on board to examine and make notes of every thing new. The Samarang was the first British man-of-war which had visited Nagasaki since the Phaeton, in 1808. The day after our arrival the chiefs sent off a present of pigs, fowls, and vegetables, but would receive nothing in return. I accompanied the master to a small island, to make observations. Several of the great men desired us to return to the ship, but we refused. They appeared greatly annoyed, and drew their hands across their throats, intimating that their heads would be forfeited for their breach of duty. However, seeing that we were determined to remain, they made a virtue of necessity, and consoled themselves by examining our instruments. A laughable occurrence took place while we were on shore. The cutter was at anchor about ten yards from the beach. Two of the crew having an argument, one of them drew his bayonet, and made a lunge at the other in jest. Observing the natives looking on with amazement, and fancying that the men were engaged in deadly fray, it drew our attention to the scene. They no doubt came to the conclusion that we must be a desperate set of fellows, and killed one another upon the slightest provocation. At all events, this little incident appeared to have a very good effect, as the natives, who had continually been interfering with our observations, now left us, not wishing to be so near to people who were so prone to mischief. During the whole night we were surrounded by a squadron of boats, which, with lanterns lighted, and drums beating, continually moved round the ship, to intercept any boat leaving it. The captain, finding that the suspicious character of the Japanese would prevent any thing like correct surveying, which was the principal object of his visit to Nagasaki, determined upon leaving this inhospitable shore of Japan as soon as possible. On Sunday the 6th, we weighed, and although the weather was unfavourable, contrived to work out of soundings until 3 P. M., when we made sail for Loo-Choo. At daylight we found ourselves abreast of a burning volcano. Dense clouds of smoke were issuing from a peaked island, about three miles distant. We soon afterwards landed upon an adjacent island, which, to our surprise, also began to smoke. The day was sultry, and without a breath of air, so that in a short time, the atmosphere we were in became overpowering; at last a fresh breeze sprang up, and the disagreeable sensation wore off. The whole of the islands between Loo-Choo and Japan appear to be volcanic, and at certain seasons of the year they break out in a similar manner to those which we saw. At noon the smoke from the large volcano became lurid; but whether this was the breaking out into flame, or from the rays of the sun pouring down upon the smoke, it was impossible to say, as we were then several miles off. During the whole of the following night we were becalmed, and during that time impelled, by a strong current, towards the volcanic island. Strange noises were heard, and large columns of smoke ascended from the crater, which, from there not being a breath of air, soon enveloped it from our sight. On the following day we again landed upon an island, some little distance to the southward of the volcano, which now vomited flames, ashes, and smoke, during the whole day. The master landed on another of these volcanic islands, but the showers of ashes and suffocating atmosphere soon drove him away. The captain had finished his observations on the first island where we landed, and we prepared to return on board. Since the morning the swell had got up considerably, causing the surf to break heavily on the rocks. However, the instruments were safely embarked in the boat; but while the captain was waiting for an opportunity to get in, a surf drove the boat on a shelving rock, and suddenly receding, her stern was dropped so low, while her bow remained fast, that she capsized. Although the officer and men in the boat had to swim for their lives, and were much bruised by being dashed against the rocks by the succeeding surf, fortunately no lives were lost; but all the instruments, to the value of about 150l., went to the bottom, and, no doubt, have since the accident very much puzzled the sharks as to their use, as they often had done the natives of those seas. A signal was hoisted on the summit of the island for the ship to send boats to assist, and, on their arrival, the gig was baled out, and by sunset we were again on board. August 18th.--Exchanged numbers with her Majesty's ship Royalist, which was anchored in Napa Kiang harbour (Loo-Choo). At 3 P. M., we anchored alongside of her, impatiently expecting letters by her, and we were not a little depressed at being disappointed. Still we had one comfort, which was that, instead of having brought us, as we expected, three months' provisions, to enable us to continue our survey, she had only fourteen days' provisions for us, which was not more than sufficient to carry us back to Hong Kong. Many and various were the surmises that this recall and alteration of our planned employment gave us; the most prevailing one was that our orders from England were at Hong Kong. Others supposed that the ship would be hove down, and subsequently condemned; but the rejoicing was universal at the idea that there would be some speedy end to our hardships and vexations. A day or two after our arrival the captain and senior officers landed, to partake of a dinner given by one of the principal mandarins. They were well plied with soup, fish, fowls, and sam-schoo, being attended on by minor mandarins. After dinner they were escorted through the town, accompanied by a large concourse of natives, who were kept by the police at a respectful distance. One of the multitude forced his way to join the captain's party, but was forcibly ejected, and preparations made to bamboo him, when, to the captain's surprise, he discovered that the unfortunate culprit was our greatest friend and ally during our visit to the Madjicosima islands. He had been christened Beaufort by our officers, in consequence of his accurate knowledge of all the shoals, bays, deeps, &c. A word from the captain released him, and to the astonishment of the mob, the captain and officers shook him cordially by the hand, and made him walk in their company during the remainder of the day. We did not find out why Beaufort left Pa-tchsu-san, where he appeared to be one of the principal chiefs; while at Loo-Choo he appeared to have no rank whatever. August 21st.--Sailed for Loo-Choo, the Royalist in Company. After looking in at Pa-tschu-san, we made all sail for Hong Kong; but arriving off the island of Botel Tobago, we were annoyed with light airs and calms, varied with squalls and heavy rain. For several days we were at the mercy of the current, until, at length, we sighted Batan, and steered towards it. The wind still continuing light, the captain went in the gig, which was my boat, on board of the Royalist; and we soon left the Samarang far behind. We landed about three o'clock, and were received by the padre, the governor and his lady being at San Carlos. The commander of the Royalist and two of his officers landed with us, and were much pleased with the hospitality of the old priest. In the course of the evening the governor and his lady returned from San Carlos; we adjourned to his house, where we passed the evening. Several dances were performed by the native women; but we did not admire them--they shuffled with their feet, and threw their bodies into anything but graceful postures. At midnight we sat down to an excellent supper, and then returned on board of the Royalist. The following morning the ship was about three miles from the anchorage. Bidding adieu to our hosts, we pulled on board, and made sail for Hong Kong. September 8th.--It being calm, the ship's company were permitted to bathe. In a minute all those who could swim were in the water, playing about in every direction round the ship, and enjoying the luxury. While this continued, the man at the mast-head reported a shark close at hand. The word to come in quickly was given by the first lieutenant and all the officers. It required no second call--every one knew why, and swam to the ropes, which were thrown out in every direction. It was touch and go, as the saying is--one of the marines, who was last, was actually touched by the shark, who made at him; but before he could turn to bite, the fellow had jerked himself up out of his reach. It was very fortunate that the man at the mast-head kept so good a look-out, for generally they are more occupied with the gambols of the bathers than looking out for sharks. As it was, many of the swimmers were so unnerved that it was with difficulty they could get out of the danger. After the men were on board again, the great object was to have revenge upon the animal who had thus put an end to the enjoyment. The shark-hook was baited with a piece of bull's hide, and the animal, who was still working up and down alongside the ship, hoping that he would still pick up a marine I presume, took the bait greedily, and was hauled on board. The axe was immediately at work at his tail, which was dismembered, and a score of knives plunged into his body, ripping him up in all directions. His eyes were picked out with fish-hooks and knives, and every indignity offered to him. He was then cut to pieces, and the quivering flesh thrown into the frying-pans, and eaten with a savage pleasure which we can imagine only to be felt by cannibals when devouring the flesh of their enemies. Certainly, if the cannibal nations have the same feeling towards their enemies which sailors have against sharks, I do not wonder at their adhering to this custom, for there was a savage delight in the eyes of every seaman in the ship as they assisted to cut to pieces and then devour the brute who would have devoured them. It was the madness of retaliation--an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. September 14th.--Arrived at Hong Kong, where we found the Castor, Vixen, and Espiègle. The next day the Agincourt, Dædalus, Vestal, and Wolverine, arrived from Borneo, having been engaged with the pirates of Maludu Bay. The squadron had suffered a loss of one officer and eighteen men killed, and about double the number wounded. This heavy loss was occasioned by their having to cut through a large boom which the pirates had thrown across the creek within half pistol shot of their forts. But the official reports of Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane have already been published, and I need not, therefore, enter into further particulars. One incident is, perhaps, worthy of notice, as it shows the respect invariably paid by the British officers and seamen to a brave enemy, although a pirate. The colours from the pirates' fort had been twice shot away, when, to the surprise of the boat squadron, a native was seen to ascend, without regard to our fire, and nail the colours to the flagstaff. Instead of taking aim at him, he was enthusiastically cheered by the seamen; and, as if with one consent, the muskets were all dropped, and the firing discontinued until he had again got down under cover, and was safe. The boom being at length severed, the fort in a few minutes was in our possession. Our late first lieutenant, Mr. Heard, who had left our ship, in consequence of the treatment he received from the captain, was wounded in this attack. Mr. Wade was the first lieutenant who sailed from England in the Samarang, and who also left us, not being able to put up with the treatment he received. It is singular that poor Mr. Wade should be killed so soon after he left the ship, and that his successor, Mr. Heard, as soon as he also left us, should have been wounded. But these were not the only officers who had quitted the ship: Lieutenant Inglefield, who joined the ship as assistant-surveyor, was, like most of the other officers, soon under an arrest; and after having had a report spread against him that he was mad, he determined to leave the ship, and obtained his Admiralty discharge. The second master, appointed by the Admiralty as one of the assistant-surveyors, also left the ship, but was compelled to join again. A court-martial was now held on board of the Castor, to inquire into the conduct of Lieutenant Heard (our late first lieutenant), during the time that he served under Sir Edward Belcher. The court-martial had been demanded by Lieutenant Heard, in consequence of Sir Edward Belcher having written a private letter to Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane, accusing Mr. Heard of conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman. The whole of the officers of the Samarang were subpoenaed, and there is no doubt what the result of the court-martial would have been; but the court was broken up on the plea that the charges were not _sufficiently specific_, as neither date nor circumstances were specified. Before the court broke up, however, they did so far justice to Lieutenant Heard, as to return his sword, and state that there was not the slightest stain upon his character, and that he was honourably acquitted. The reader may perhaps ask, why the court was dissolved? It was to save the honour of the cloth, that the court, composed of captains, came to that decision. Had the court-martial proceeded, what would it have proved?--that a superior officer had been guilty of slander, and had attempted by this means to ruin a most excellent officer. The court declared that the charges were not sufficiently specific. Surely, they were plain enough. Lieutenant Heard was charged with conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman--a charge sufficient to dismiss him the service, if it could have been proved. But let us reverse this case: suppose that Lieutenant Heard had thus slandered Sir Edward Belcher. Would the court of captains then have discovered that the charges were not sufficiently specific? Most certainly not. The trial would have proceeded, and the lieutenant, for making such false charges in a private letter, would have been dismissed with ignominy from the service. November 1st.--Sailed from Hong Kong, after a detention of some days, in consequence of a row between Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane and our gallant captain; the admiral, as we understood, refusing to allow the Samarang to leave the port until Sir Edward Belcher had apologised for his insubordination towards him. After a detention of a few days, the apology was forced from Sir Edward Belcher, and we were permitted to get under weigh. Of course, I cannot exactly vouch for the correctness of this statement, but such was the _on dit_ of the day. On the second we experienced a heavy gale, and the Royalist, who was with us as a tender, parted company. After a weary beat of nineteen days, we arrived at Batan, the capital of the Bashee islands; but I have already described this place. We remained here eight days, anxiously expecting the Royalist, but she did not make her appearance, and we concluded that she must have received some injury in the gale, and had borne up for Manilla. We sailed for that place, and arrived there on the 2d of December. Our conjectures relative to the Royalist were correct: she was here at anchor, having crippled her foremast in the gale, so as to render it necessary for her to bear up for this port. [Illustration: SALT SMUGGLERS.] We had always enjoyed ourselves at this place. During our repeated visits we had made many acquaintances and friends, and it was with no small pleasure that we found that we were to remain here till the first day of the new year. It is the custom at Manilla for the inhabitants to throw most of their houses open on that day: any one may enter, and be sure of a hearty welcome from the hospitable Spaniards. We anticipated great pleasure,-and we did nothing but talk about it, as our last Christmas Day had been a most dreary one, and we were delighted at the idea of passing this one among hospitable and civilised people. The reader may therefore imagine our disgust and vexation when, on the 23d, without our having the least notice of his intention, the captain gave orders for the anchor to be weighed, and ran the ship down to Caviti, a town about seven miles distant. Caviti was deserted; all the inhabitants had gone to Manilla to enjoy the holidays; not a soul remained to welcome us; but if they had, it would have been of no good to us, as, on Christmas morning, about two o'clock, we were almost all of us sent on shore to take a set of magnetic observations, which were not completed until the same hour on the following day. At the same time, to make "assurance doubly sure" that we should have no pleasure on that day, leave was stopped to all those remaining on board of the ship. I will not enter further into this affair. All I shall say is, that Christmas Day, the day of rejoicing, the day of good-will, was turned into one in which the worst passions were roused, and in which "curses not loud but deep" were levelled at the head of the man who, "dressed in a little brief authority," took this opportunity of exercising the power entrusted to him. After completing the observations, we moved further down the Bay, and surveyed the shoals of St. Nicholas; after which we returned to Manilla, where all gaiety had ceased. Caviti was once a place of great importance, having been the capital of Luzon, from whence the galleons conveyed the treasure to Spain. The arsenal still remains, but in a very dilapidated state: we found the artificers busily employed completing some gun-boats and small schooners, which were intended to accompany the Esperanza, Spanish frigate, in an expedition to an island off Borneo, where the Esperanza had latterly sustained a defeat from the pirates who inhabited the island. At Caviti lie the remains of an old Spanish galleon, one of the few which had the good fortune to escape Commodore Anson. The whole of one side of the vessel is gone, and she is now fast falling to pieces, but the Spaniards look upon her with great reverence. She is a relic of their former grandeur; and I was informed by a Spanish gentleman that she never would be broken up. I looked upon her, if not with reverence, at least with sympathy; and as I made a sketch of her my thoughts naturally turned to the rise and fall of empires, and I communed with myself as to what would be the date in which England would be in the same position as modern Spain, and fall back upon her former glories by way of consolation for her actual decay. [Illustration: SPANISH GALLEON.] On our arrival at Manilla, whether it was that the captain thought that we might too readily console ourselves for our Christmas disappointment, or that he had heard (which I doubt not was the case) the expressions of disgust which had been so universal, we found that all leave was stopped. A few of us, not relishing this confinement without just cause, made our appearance on shore in plain clothes; for we had become reckless. We could but be turned out of the ship and out of the service: we longed for the first most especially, and were not alarmed at the prospect of the second. But although the captain was very willing to oblige us with the latter as soon as he had done with us, upon the paying off of the ship, he was not at all inclined to enter into our views as to the former; for he knew that he never would get another officer to join him. He therefore took all the work he could out of us for the present, bottling up his indignation for a future opportunity. We visited the cigar manufactory. About three thousand women are daily employed in making and packing up the cigars. One party selects, cleans, and moistens the leaf; a second cuts; a third rolls; another packs them; and thus they are passed through a variety of hands before they are completed. The best cheroots made here are sent to the royal family, and are called Finas. No. 3. are the next best: of these there are two kinds--one for consumption, another for exportation. The cheroots sold in England under the name of Government Manillas are of inferior quality. In consequence of the failure in the preceding tobacco crop, cheroots were very scarce during the time we were at Manilla. There is a fine lace sold at Manilla, called Pina-work. It is made by the women of an island bearing that name, which is close to Luzon. Although not so fine as some of the European manufactures, it fetches very high prices in this country. There is not sufficient made for exportation. The night on which we went on shore contrary to orders proved to be a festival, and the city was illuminated. There is a variety in illuminations all over the world, as those who have been to various countries well know. The lower classes of Manilla construct animals of all sorts, ships, &c. out of coloured paper--very good imitations of the reality--and these they illuminate by putting candles within them. We had amused ourselves with looking at the variety of objects exhibited by the various whims of the illuminating parties, when, on passing through a street, we observed a large illuminated pig--such a beauty! He was standing at the door of a shop, and the owner was quite proud of our unqualified admiration. We examined him very carefully, and at last we unfortunately discovered that he was fixed on a board with four wheels. Wheels naturally reminded us that they were vehicles of locomotion; the pig could move--that was certain--and we decided that, if possible, pig must go on board of the Samarang. This was agreed to, _nem. con._, by all parties, with the exception of the owner, who was not summoned to the consultation, which, I grant, was an omission. A ball of twine, some fifty fathoms long, was purchased, and stretched along the street, so as to give us a good start in case of a rescue. We manned it with all hands except one, who was appointed to make it fast to the pig, which he effected with great dexterity, and without being perceived. As soon as he rejoined us, off we set, followed by pig, who galloped and capered down the streets in capital style, preserving his equilibrium in a most astonishing manner. But the owner of the pig soon discovered his loss, and gave the signal for the chase. As we passed the gates, the soldiers joined in the pursuit, and a large mob followed; but pig beat them all, and arrived safely at the hotel where we resided. Of course, the owner soon came in to claim his property; but he was so nobly remunerated for his animal, which became ours by purchase, that he went away jingling the money, and agreeing with us that it was an excellent joke. We placed our pig in the centre of the table, and passed our last night at Manilla in a most agreeable manner. [Illustration: NATIVES OF LUZON. F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS] We then sailed again for Caviti, which was now again inhabited. The society is confined to the families of the civil and military officers who are stationed there. Some of the villages in the vicinity of Caviti are very picturesque: the bamboos planted on each side of the road meet over head, and form shady lanes. The women at these villages were handsomer than any I had seen at Luzon, and were dressed very tastefully. A petticoat, reaching from the hips to between the knees and ankles, a not too jealous boddice of light muslin, their long hair flowing down their backs, and a neat straw hat, composed as graceful a costume as I have ever witnessed. See two of these girls, both riding one pony, taking eggs to Caviti, as they pass through the shady lanes, and you cannot desire a more agreeable picture. [Illustration: WATER CARRIERS--MANILLA.] January 3rd.--From this day till the 20th of February we were surveying various portions of the Phillippine group; but as there is nothing to interest the reader, I shall pass over a dry catalogue of mostly uninhabited islands. One of the islands was covered with cocoa-nut trees. We found on it some Malays, who had come there on an annual visit, and were loading their boats with the nuts. They were the rudest of the Malay tribe we had yet seen. Every article in our possession excited their cupidity, and they expressed their wonder and admiration by clacking their tongues against the roofs of their mouths, and emitting a very strange sound. A needle was valued by them at ten cocoa-nuts, a button at five. For the value of a few shillings we filled the ship with those highly esteemed fruit. On the 21st of February we proceeded to Samboangan, a Spanish penal settlement at the south extremity of Mindanao. The town, which is insignificant, is built on a plain. Most of the houses are constructed of leaves and bamboo, supported by stakes. The governor, however, and some of the most respectable of the inhabitants, occupy neat little white-washed cottages. There is a fine fort, in good condition, and mounting several guns, which is garrisoned by about 400 Manilla troops. The town is surrounded nearly by groves of cocoa-nut trees and bananas, and the roads cut through them form pleasant shady walks. The plain on which the town is built is well cultivated, and watered by a fine river. It is bounded by a range of mountains, which separate the Spanish possessions from the country inhabited by the warlike natives of the interior. The people appear well-conditioned and industrious, and are remarkably neat in their dress and persons. There are several gun boats stationed here, which are employed to scour the coast of the pirates, who are very numerous and formidable. Horses can be obtained here in any quantity, but saddles and bridles are scarce. Unfortunately, there is nothing so civilised here as an hotel, so few vessels visiting the port. The little commerce that exists is carried on by small schooners which run between this island and Manilla. [Illustration: VIEW IN SAMBOANGAN. (MINDANAO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS] I have mentioned that this is the penal settlement of the Spanish colonies. The prisoners are confined within the fort, and there is none of that awe of restraint and doubtful position which you find in a place where half the population consists of liberated convicts. It is a flourishing and happy little colony. Many officers of an inferior grade reside here, holding appointments either in the fort, gaol, or the gun boats. These people and their wives are Mestichas (or half-breed), and it is among them and their families that some of the prettiest women in the Asiatic archipelago may be found. Our first object after we were on shore was to procure horses, that we might have a view of the country, as far as prudence would admit. We were surprised at starting to find such fine roads, lined with gardens and cottages, embowered in groves of cocoa-nut, bananas, and bamboos. Where the road was not shaded, arches of wood were raised to protect passengers from the heat of the sun. The whole country was alive with natives, dressed in every variety of colour, and sledges drawn by water buffaloes, carrying fruit, vegetables, and Indian corn. We put our horses to a swift canter, and passed through many villages, all in appearance as populous, as thriving, and as happy as Samboangan. At last we arrived at an open plain, covered with cattle, and bounded by the mountains in the distance. We remained some time admiring and sketching; the inhabitants showed us every kindness, and were more courteous in their demeanour than might be expected from their isolation from the rest of the world. On our return, we stopped at a little shop by the road side, close to the town. It contained fruit, grain, and tobacco; but ascertaining that coffee and chocolate could be had here, we ordered some of the latter, which proved to be excellent, and moderate in price. This little shop, for want of an hotel, became our principal rendezvous during our stay here. About nightfall, as we were strolling through the town, we were attracted by the sounds of music in an adjoining street. We altered our course accordingly, and on arrival at a large thatched house, perceived through the open windows that it was filled with musicians and dancers. We were immediately observed, and the owner of the house, in the most courteous manner, and in tolerable English, requested us to enter, which request we immediately complied with. We imagined that it was a ball, perhaps a wedding; but what was our surprise on entering to see a table in the middle of the room, on which was placed a dead child! It was neatly dressed, and ornamented with flowers, looking more like a wax doll than a corpse. The ball, we were informed, was given in honour of its funeral. The dancing had not yet commenced, so we were in excellent time. The master of the house was extremely polite, and requested that we would consider ourselves at home. We took his advice, and immediately separated, and paid our addresses to the ladies which most interested us by their appearance. A great many of them were exceedingly pretty, and they were dressed enchantingly. Their hair was drawn back, and collected in a knot behind, their bosoms covered by a light muslin jacket with short sleeves. A petticoat of many colours was sufficiently short to disclose their naked feet, on which was a slipper of velvet, embroidered with gold or silver lace. Two or three great gold ornaments completed their costume. Add to this their sparkling black eyes, regular features, and an air of naiveté--inseparable from Spanish girls, and you have some idea of the witchery of the belles of Samboangan. We were very soon on excellent terms, and the table with the dead child being removed to a corner, the father and mother of the deceased opened the ball with a slow waltz. This being concluded, we selected our partners, and a livelier air being struck up, off we all went at a splendid pace. The women waltzed well. The music was excellent. In the first round all the ladies lost their slippers, which were without heels; and in the second the pace became fearful, and the old house shook under the active bounds and springs of some twenty or thirty couples. Spanish quadrilles succeeded the waltz, and then we had the country dance. This latter is complicated, but very pretty, and, with the assistance of our partners, in a short time we were quite _au fait_ to its mysteries. The music, which consisted of violins and guitars, bore up indefatigably. About twelve o'clock we ceased dancing, and preparations were made for supper. This was laid on the floor, clean grass mats serving as table cloths. The contents of the dishes were of the most novel description, and rice was the only article which I could recognise as unmixed. The repast spread, the host requested us to place ourselves. I followed my pretty partner's example, and came to an anchor on the floor alongside of her. I was most assiduous in helping her to whatever she pointed out; and, as nearly as I can recollect, the plate contained a curious medley of rice, prawns, fowls' legs, apples, besides other articles unknown, at least to me. I had observed a total want of knives, forks, and spoons, but this was explained when I saw that all ate with their fingers. Seeing no objection to this primitive plan, I was about getting a plate for myself, when I was informed by my partner, in the most insinuating way, that I was to consider her plate as my own. I fully appreciated the compliment, and at once commenced, assisting her to demolish the pile that I had collected, as I thought, for her use alone. On looking round I found that we were not singular, and that every couple were, like us, dipping into one dish. Never was there a more merry and delightful supper. As soon as it was over, which was not very soon, for I could have gone on eating a long while for the very pleasure of meeting the pretty little fingers in the plate, we rose, the mats and dishes were cleared away, and we resumed the dancing, and it was at a late hour that we made our _buenas nochas_ to the fair girls of Samboangan. We remained in this delightful little place for two days. Many of us were inclined to remain there for life, if we could have escaped. We made several excursions into the interior, and the more we saw the more we were convinced that no place was so pretty as Samboangan. March 3d.--Anchored in a port at Baselan, where the Spaniards had very lately founded a colony. We found them very busy felling trees, clearing backwood, and completing the stockade or fort. The natives of Baselan are a courageous race, and were continually attacking the Spaniards, occasionally with success. Two gun boats were lying off the town, but the Spanish force is not sufficient to meet the attacks of the natives, who continually surprise their outposts and decapitate their prisoners. On our arrival a discharge of guns and fire-arms was kept up during the whole night, fully proving the trouble which the Spaniards would have in establishing and retaining their settlement here. It was a few miles from this that the French were beaten off by the Malays or pirates, for the terms are at Baselan synonymous. March 5th.--Having completed the survey of this port, we made sail for Balam-bangan. On our route we stopped at Cagayan Sooloo, where we fell in with two piratical prahus. For reasons, not explained, these vessels were not interfered with, although there was not the least doubt of their occupation. March 9.--The ship struck several times while threading her way through a line of dangerous shoals to the eastward of Bangay; and on the same evening we arrived at Balam-bangan. The Royalist had been despatched about a month before to Sincapore, to obtain provisions to enable us to survey the coast of Borneo. Balam-bangan was the rendezvous appointed, and we expected to have found her anchored there; but in this we were disappointed. The survey of Balam-bangan was now commenced, and during our survey we discovered the remains of the old English settlement. It may be as well here to concisely narrate the history of its rise and fall. About the year 1766, four ships, filled with troops and every thing requisite for the formation of a colony, arrived at Balam-bangan, which was formally taken possession of in the name of his Britannic Majesty. But unexpected difficulties arose one after the other. The natives of Bangay, about three miles distant, were hostile, and made repeated attacks upon them. The soil was discovered not to be of that fertile nature which had been represented; and unfortunately two of the ships were thrown on shore in a gale, and every soul on board perished. These several disasters damped their energies, and created a feeling of distrust among the settlers, but still the original intention was not abandoned. The forts were completed, a few houses rose, and as their comfort and security increased, so did their hopes arise, and they worked with renewed vigour. But their prosperous state excited the jealousy of the people of Sooloo, which island is the emporium of the commerce between Borneo and the other islands. The ruling powers of Sooloo considered that this commerce must fall off if the English established themselves on an island so well adapted for it in every respect as Balam-bangan, and they resolved to attack the colony in its infant state. Perhaps they had another reason, which was that they anticipated a rich booty, if successful, and no doubt they were not disappointed. The attack was made with an overwhelming force, and the English, although they bore themselves bravely, could not resist it. Most of the colonists were butchered, some few gained the ships in the harbour and sailed away to the port from which the expedition was fitted out. Since that time no further attempt to colonise this island has been made, nor, indeed, is it likely that there will be, as Labuan is much more advantageously situated in every respect. The Royalist at last arrived: she had but few letters, but, valuable and dear to us as letters always were, she brought intelligence that made every heart, except one, beat with delight. Was it possible? Yes, it was true--true! We were _ordered home_. Oh, the delight, the frantic joy, which was diffused through the whole ship. To have witnessed the scene we should have been considered as mad. Every one embracing one another, shaking hands, animosities reconciled at once, all heart-burnings forgotten: we could have hugged every thing we met--dogs, monkeys, pigs--except the captain. All our sufferings and privations were forgotten in the general ecstasy, and, although thousands of leagues were still to be run before we could arrive at the desired goal, and months must pass away, time and space were for the time annihilated, and, in our rapture, we fancied and we spoke as if we were within reach of our kindred and our homes. Could it be the Samarang that we were on board of?--the same ship that we were in not one hour ago?--the silent, melancholy vessel, now all hands laughing, screaming, huzzaing, dancing, and polkaing up and down the deck like maniacs? And then when the excitement was a little over, and we became more rational, Why were we ordered home? was the first surmise. We had been sent out on a seven years' expedition, and we had not yet been out four. The surveys were not half finished. Was it the row that the captain had had with the admiral, and the reports of many officers who had quitted the ship? We made up our minds at last that it must have been upon the representations of the admiral to the Admiralty that we had been ordered home. There could be no other reason. We drank his health in nine times nine. [Illustration: ILLANOAN PIRATE. (TAMPASSOOK, BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] On the 24th of March we sailed from Balam-bangan, with the intention of making a flying survey of the coast of Borneo, as far as the island of Labuan and the country at Sarawak, to make the best of our way to Sincapore, at which place we hoped to arrive about the 1st of May, there to receive our final orders and start for England. It would be tedious, and it is not necessary, to give a description of the survey which we afterwards made. We went over the same ground as before, and we surveyed with a musket in one hand and a sextant in the other, for the natives were not to be trusted. Our warlike friends at Tampassook did not much relish our re-appearance on their coast. A Spanish slave made his escape from them and came on board, begging a passage to any where. He had been taken prisoner, with six or seven others, in an engagement between the Manilla gun boats and the Illanoan pirates, and had been very cruelly treated. We learnt from this man that the pirates of Tampassook are very rich, and possessed a large number of fine prahus. They had also plenty of fire-arms, but were afraid of them, preferring their own weapons. It was here that we heard the news of the murder of our old friends Rajah Muda and Bud-ruddeen. It appeared that they had been accused of being privy to the attack of the English on Maludu, and supporting our claims to the island of Labuan. Bud-ruddeen died as he had lived, a brave man, and worthy of a better fate. On the approach of his enemies he retired to his house with his sister and favourite wife, both of whom insisted upon sharing his destiny. For some time he fought like a lion against a superior force, until his servants one by one fell dead. He then retired dangerously wounded to an inner chamber, with his wife and sister, and, allowing his enemies to follow him till the house was filled with them, he fired his pistol into a barrel of gunpowder, which had been placed in readiness, and at once destroyed himself, his friends, and his enemies. But this barbarous murder on the part of the sultan of Borneo and his advisers was not left unpunished. Sir Thomas Cochrane went to Bruni with his squadron, and reduced the sultan to submission and a proper respect for the English, and those who were friendly with them. As we approached Labuan we found it necessary to be on the _qui vive_, as all the natives were hostile to us, and would have cut off our surveying parties if they had had a chance. In the bay of Gaya, we met a brother of Bud-ruddeen. He was the Rajah of the small province of Kalabutan. Both he and his followers burned to revenge the death of a man so universally beloved as Rajah Muda, and offered to accompany us with their whole force to attack the city of Bruni. They came on board of us with fowls, eggs, and fruits. They placed little value on dollars, preferring white linen, handkerchiefs, and bottles, to any other article in the way of traffic. We, therefore, as we were so soon going to England, made no ceremony of parting with our old clothes in exchange for stock; and the next vessel that visits the river will be surprised at the quantity of midshipmen's jackets, sailors' hats, and marines' boots, which will be worn by the inhabitants, in addition to their own costume. Mr. Adams, the assistant surgeon, had obtained permission to accept the Rajah's invitation to visit the town, which was some five or six miles up the river. He saw nothing worthy of remark except some of a tribe of aborigines (Dusums). Their only covering consisted of large metal rings worn round the neck and hips. [Illustration: NATIVES OF N. E. COAST OF BORNEO.] While a party were observing on shore, a short distance to the northward of Kalabutan, they were fired at by a party of natives concealed in the jungle. The only person who was wounded was the Spaniard, whom we had rescued at Tampassook, who was standing by the captain. The ball passed through his arm, and grazed his body. The arms were handed out of the gig, which was close at hand, and the enemy retreated into the wood. The cutter then joined, and having a three-pounder on her bows, opened fire upon the natives, who had re-assembled.. The first two or three shots passed over their heads, and encouraged by no injury being done to them, they came forward dancing, yelling, drawing their knives and spears in defiance. But a shot passing through the body of the chief set them all off. They bore him away on their shoulders, and did not afterwards make their appearance. After cannonading the village for an hour, and doing them all the mischief that we could, by destroying their fortifications, burning one and carrying off another prahu, we returned on board, and then made sail for the island of Labuan, where we arrived on the 25th of April, 1846. Here our surveying was completed, and we made the best of our way to Sarawak, where we arrived on the 30th of April. We learnt all the news of the little colony from Dr. Treecher, who came to visit us. [Illustration: DUSUM. (N. COAST OF BORNEO.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] We found that Mr. Brooke had been recognised by Government, and that Captain Bethune had been testing the capability of making Labuan a coal dépot. Poor Williamson, the interpreter, and a great friend of ours, had been drowned some months previous, while crossing the river at night in a small canoe, and no doubt fell a prey to the alligators. He was not only a very amiable, but a very clever fellow, and his loss was deeply felt by every body. Mr. Brooke was absent from Kuchin on an expedition to the Sakarran river, in the Phlegethon steamer, to inquire into the particulars, and punish, if necessary, an attack upon his Dyak allies by the natives of Sakarran. Two Sakarran chiefs, accompanied by a great many war prahus, had paid a visit to Mr. Brooke, and had been entertained by him in his usual hospitable manner. At their departure he loaded the chiefs with presents, for which they appeared to be extremely grateful. As a return for this kindness, and to prove their sincerity as allies, the principal chief left his son, a boy of twelve years of age, with Mr. Brooke. But notwithstanding that this boy was as a hostage, they could not resist an opportunity of plunder, and that very evening they ascended one of the tributary streams of the Sarawak, attacked a village, and brought off with them twenty-seven heads of the unfortunate Dyaks. When the news arrived, Mr. Brooke was so much enraged at their treachery, that he almost determined upon sacrificing the boy chief, as the natives expected; but not wishing to visit the sins of the father upon the lad, who was innocent, and fearful that his own people would not be so forbearing, he returned the boy to his parents. We all felt annoyed that we had not an opportunity of bidding farewell to Mr. Brooke, and thanking him for his kindness to us whenever he had an opportunity of showing it. He was, indeed, beloved by every body who had the pleasure of his acquaintance. Sailed for Sincapore. The next night we communicated with the Julia (Mr. Brooke's vessel). She had on board Captain Elliott, and twenty-five sepoys[3], who were to be stationed as a garrison at Kuchin. We were much pleased to find that Government had taken up this cause so warmly, and that Mr. Brooke was likely to be recognised by it, after all his individual exertions. Our passage to Sincapore proved very tedious, all hands upon short allowance, and no grog. We touched at Barren Island, and obtained a large quantity of sea birds' eggs, but they were mostly rotten; but this did not prevent our making omelets of them, for we were now with only three days' provisions on board at half allowance, and the calm still continued. Three days we were in sight of the island, the sails flapped idly against the masts, and not a breath disturbed the surface of the ocean wave. We thought of the tale of the Ancient Mariner, and there were not wanting those on board who declared that this continued calm was a judgment upon us, not for shooting an albatross, but for robbing the nests of the eggs. [Footnote 3: These sepoys were raised and _paid_ by Mr. Brooke.] Our barges were sent to Sincapore for provisions, for famine was staring us in the face, but that same night a breeze sprang up, and on the 20th of May we dropped our anchor in the roads. At Sincapore we found the Hazard, 18, whose crew suffered so much at New Zealand; and here also we found, to our inexpressible delight, our orders for England, of which we had begun to have some doubts. On the 14th of June arrived the Admiral, in H. M. S. Agincourt, towed by the Spitfire steamer. As soon as he was joined by the rest of the squadron, it was the intention of Sir T. Cochrane to make sail for Bruni, and punish the six-fingered sultan and his piratical advisers. Sincapore, like all new settlements, is composed of so mixed a community, that there is but little hospitality, and less gaiety. Every one is waiting to ascertain what is to be his position in society, and till then is afraid of committing himself by friendly intercourse; moreover, every body is too busy making money. The consequence is, but few parties are given, and a ball is so rare that it becomes the subject of conversation for months. There are some good-looking girls at Sincapore, but it is only at church or on parade that a stranger obtains a glimpse of them. Prudery is at present the order of the day, and this is carried to such an extent from non-intercourse, that at a farewell ball given to the Cambrians, the women would only polka and waltz with each other. The country immediately outside the town of Sincapore is spotted with little bungaloes, the retreat of the merchants from the monotonous business-life which they are compelled to lead. The plantations of nutmegs and beetle-nut which surround these country residences are very luxuriant; and at this time the fruit was on the trees, and the odour quite delightful. One male tree is planted for every ten females. Very little cloves or cinnamon are grown at this settlement, but I saw some specimens. A nutmeg tree is valued, when it once arrives to full bearing, at a guinea a year. The Areca-palm is a very beautiful tree, and requires but little attention: these and cocoa-nut are valued at a dollar per year. Large quantities of sugar-cane are now grown here, and some fine sugar-mills are built in the vicinity of the town. The roads are kept in good repair by the convicts, and are now really very respectable. The Chinese joss-house here is considered very fine, and I made a drawing of it. It has some good stone carving and figures, but is very inferior to that of Ningpo. During the time that I was drawing it was filled with Chinese, who were very inquisitive and troublesome: the only method I could devise for keeping them off was by filling a bowl full of vermilion, and when their curiosity overcame their prudence, and they came rubbing up against me, daubing their faces with the colour--this plan, accompanied with a kick, proved effectual. [Illustration: CONVICT.] Sincapore being the penal settlement of India, there are a large number of convicts here, who are chained, and work at the roads and bridges. One night I visited the gaol, and was taken over it by an overseer. We first visited the Chinese department. Two long benches ran along the room, on which were stretched some thirty men. As the overseer passed he struck each man with his rattan, and in a moment they were all sitting up, rubbing their eyes, and looking as innocent as possible. They were all confined for murder, and were a most rascally-looking set. From this room we proceeded to another, fitted in the same manner, and filled with Indians. Many of them were branded on the forehead with "Doomga," which signifies murder; and in some cases the brand was both in Hindostanee and English. Leaving them, we entered a small room close to the gates of the gaol, and guarded by a sentry. In this room were confined the most reckless characters. They were but eight in number. Parallel to the bench ran a long iron rod, and to this they were shackled, both hands and feet. The first man among them pointed out to me by the overseer was a fine-looking grey-bearded Indian, of great stature, and with the eyes of a tiger. He had been formerly a rich shipowner at Bombay; but having been convicted of insuring his vessels to a large amount, and then setting fire to them, his property was confiscated by the government, and he was sentenced to work for life in chains. It is said that he has offered a million rupees to any man who will knock off his irons. His son carries on the business at Bombay, and it was reported that a vessel was always lying at Sincapore ready to receive him in case he should effect his escape; but of this there does not appear to be the slightest chance, as he is particularly watched and guarded. [Illustration: KLING WOMAN.] The next culprits pointed out to us were two of the heads of the secret society of India. So much has already been said of this extraordinary association, that I need not discuss it here. There is, however, a society in Sincapore of a similar nature, composed of all the lower orders of the Chinese. It is said to amount to 15,000; and the police is much too weak to prevent the robberies, although some check is put to them by the presence of the military. It must not be supposed that because there are 15,000 in the society, that there are that quantity of robbers: such is not the case. Of course it is difficult to arrive at the regulations of any secret society, but as far as can be collected, they are as follows. A certain portion of the society are regular thieves, and these in a body compel those who are inoffensive to join the society, by threats of destruction of property, &c. If the party joins the society, all that is expected of him is, that he will aid and assist to prevent the capture, and give an asylum to any one of the society who may be in danger. The richest Chinese merchants have been compelled to join, and lend their countenance to this society, upon pain of destruction of their property, and even assassination, if they refuse; and as they have more than once put their threats into execution, the merchants have not the courage to resist. Shortly after our arrival at Sincapore, the burial of one of the chiefs of the society took place; and such was the concourse assembled to witness the funeral, that it was thought advisable to call out the troops, as a skirmish was expected to take place. However, every thing passed off quietly. The richest Chinaman at Sincapore is Whampoa: he supplies the navy with stores, and has a thriving business. His country house is a favourite resort of the naval officers, and he gives excellent dinners, and very agreeable parties. His champagne is particularly approved of. There is little or no amusement at Sincapore. During the afternoon every body is asleep. In the cool of the evening half a dozen palanquins, and perhaps a few gigs, may be seen driving on the parade: these proceed at a steady pace round the grass-plot for about an hour; and this is the only exercise taken. Fashion is very drowsy here, and only wakes up occasionally, that she may sleep the longer afterwards. From the want of hospitality, the evenings are passed by strangers at the hotels, playing billiards, smoking, and drinking. The hotels are very good, in consequence of the steamers from Bombay to Hong Kong touching here; they are fitted up with an unusual degree of comfort; and the charges are, of course, not very moderate. The markets are well supplied with fruit, vegetables, and stock of all kinds. Among the fruits must be mentioned the mangostein, which is brought from Malacca; and the pine-apples from the island of St. John's. The opposite side of the island upon which Sincapore is built is well wooded. A great many tigers swim over from the main, and pits are dug for their destruction, 100 dollars being given by government for every tiger killed. On the 18th we received our final orders, and took our farewell of Eastern India; but it must not be supposed that we made the best of our passage to England. On the contrary, the captain was as anxious to remain out as we were to get home; and we were six months and twelve days from the time that we left Sincapore till our arrival at Portsmouth. The fact was, that the pay and emoluments of a surveying captain are such, that our captain felt no inclination to be paid off; and as he never spent any money, he was laying up a nice provision for his retirement; besides which he hoped that, upon his representations to the Admiralty, the order for his recall would be cancelled, and that he would find a letter to that effect at the Cape of Good Hope. His object, therefore, was to spin out the time as much as possible, so as to allow the answer of the Admiralty to arrive at the Cape before we did. We were ordered to survey some shoals, the Cagardos Carahos, on our passage home; but I believe nothing more. On Sunday, the 22d, we anchored off a small island near to the isle of Billaton. At two A. M. we weighed, and ten minutes afterwards the ship struck on a shoal. All our exertions to get her off proved abortive, and in this uncomfortable position we remained till the following Thursday, when she again floated, after throwing overboard the guns, and landing such stores as we could on the island. This accident and light winds lengthened our passage to Anger (the Dutch settlement in Java) to twenty-one days; and there we remained five days, to ascertain the rate of our chronometers. This Dutch settlement at Anger, although slightly fortified, might be made a place of great consequence: both outward and homeward bound vessels touch here for water and stock; and were it properly supported and improved by the Dutch, as it should be, it would command a great deal of trade, and during war be of great consequence. It is governed by a Dutch military officer, and is garrisoned with about fifty soldiers. The country is remarkably fine here, the plains richly cultivated and covered with cattle. The farmers complain bitterly of the taxes imposed upon them by the Dutch, taxes so onerous that no native has a chance of realising any profits of consequence; but this is Dutch policy, and very unwise policy it is. We now thought that we were about to proceed to the isle of France direct, but we were mistaken: we weighed anchor, and proceeded to the Cocoa islands. This is a low group of islands literally covered with cocoa-nut trees. These islands are possessed by a Mr. Ross, formerly mate of a merchant vessel. His family consisted of two sons and two daughters, and are the only Europeans who reside there. We could not help thinking that the Misses Ross had very little chance of getting husbands. The remainder of the population, amounting to about 120 souls, are all black. They extract the oil from the cocoa-nut, and trade with it to Java, from whence they procure the necessary supplies. Whalers occasionally call here to obtain fresh provisions; but the visit of a man-of-war was quite an event. From the Cocoas we steered for the Cagardos Carahos shoals, where we remained for more than a fortnight, surveying. There are several islands close to these shoals, which are in the shape of a crescent. They are very dangerous, being in the direct track of ships from China and the Indies. Indeed, we had ocular proof of their dangerous position, for there were seven or eight wrecks upon them, and the small islands of sand were crowded with masts, spars, chests, interspersed with human bones bleaching in the powerful sun. On one of the islands we discovered the remains of the British ship Letitia, which was wrecked in September, 1845. At a short distance from the beach was the grave of the captain, who was drowned in attempting to reach the shore with a bag of dollars. Had he not held on so tight to the bag, he would in all probability have been saved, as were all the rest on board of her. It certainly would be very advisable to build a lighthouse upon these shoals; the expense would be nothing compared to the loss of property and life which they occasion every year. From the Cagardos Carahos we proceeded to the Mauritius. Here we found the President, bearing the flag of Admiral Dacres, and the Snake brig just arrived from England. Port Louis has been too often described to be mentioned here. Behind it rose a range of mountains, the highest of which are about 1400 feet above the level of the sea, and completely shelter the town from the S. E. gales, which at this period of the year blow with great violence. Among these mountains is the famous Peter-Botte, and we looked upon it with great interest, in consequence of the daring and successful attempt made a few years since by some Englishmen to attain the summit of it. Even now, although we know that it has been done, it appears to be impossible. One of the leaders of this expedition was Lieutenant Thomas Keppel, the brother of our favourite Captain Henry Keppel, and this circumstance gave it more interest to us; but T. Keppel has since left the service, and is now a Reverend, moored in a snug _Creek_, and has quite given over climbing up Peter-Bottes. During the short time that we remained at this delightful island, we received every kindness and attention from the governor and his lady, and the officers of the two regiments stationed there. [Illustration: PORT LOUIS. (MAURITIUS.) F. M. DELT. M. N. HANHART LITH. PRINTERS LONDON; LONGMAN & CO. 1848] From the Mauritius we proceeded to the Cape of Good Hope. On the morning of the 24th of September we hove in sight of the Table Mountain, but it was not until the 26th that we cast anchor in Simon's Bay. Here we remained for a month, waiting for the arrival of the mail from England. At last it arrived, but not bringing us, as our captain hoped, the order for his return to India, on the 24th of October we made sail for England, and, calling at St. Helena and Ascension _en route_, on the last day of the year we dropped our anchor at Spithead. We were not, however, emancipated till the 18th day of January, on which day the ship was paid off, for which, and all other mercies, may the Lord be praised! OBSERVATIONS UPON THE EASTERN ARCHIPELAGO. It is with diffidence that I take up my pen to offer a few remarks upon the prospects afforded to our commerce and manufactures by the opening of the Eastern Archipelago. Hitherto I have done little more than narrate what I have seen, and have seldom made any attempt to express what I have thought. However, as my thoughts have been generated from what I have observed, whether I am correct or not in my opinions, I shall venture to lay them before my readers. How it is that until lately we have never taken any notice of this immense archipelago it is difficult to say, unless we are to suppose that, up to the present, the other portions of the inhabited globe have been found sufficient to consume our manufactures as fast as they could be produced. It does appear strange that an assemblage of islands, which, large and small, amounting to about 12,000 in number, equal in territory to any continent, and so populous, for the inhabitants, including the more northern islands, are estimated at fifty millions, should have hitherto been unnoticed, and, at all events, have not attracted the attention of our government. Moreover, there are such facilities of communication, not being compelled, as with the Chinese, to confine ourselves to five or six ports, at which the whole trade is centred in the hands of a monopoly, taxed with the expences of land-carriage, port duties, and other exactions. Here, on the contrary, from the division of the territory into so many portions, we possess all the advantages of inland navigation, if I may use such a term, for the straits and channels between them serve as large rivers do on the continents to render the communication with the interior easy and accessible. And yet, although we have had possession of the East Indies for so many years, this archipelago has been wholly neglected. At all events, the discovery of it, for it is really such, has come in good time, and will give a stimulus to our manufactures, most opportune, now that we have so much increased them, that we are in want of customers. Still we have, almost unknown to ourselves, been advancing towards it step by step. The taking possession of the island of Sincapore was the first and greatest stride towards it. Had it not been that we had founded that settlement, we probably should not have been nearer to Borneo now, than we were fifty years ago. Sir T. Raffles conferred a great boon upon this country, and is entitled to its gratitude for pointing out the advantages which would accrue from this possession. Till we had made a settlement there, we knew no more of the eastern archipelago, than what had been obtained by our circumnavigators, or of the produce of it, further than that Borneo was the country from which could be obtained the orang-outang. Latterly we have been at some trouble and expence in forcing our trade with China, little aware that almost in the route to China we had an opening for commerce, which, in a few years, judiciously managed, will become by far the most lucrative of the two, and what perhaps is still more important, may be the means of a most extended trade with China, as we can drive the Chinese from the archipelago, and supply China from them ourselves; but of that hereafter. One cause, perhaps, which has prevented us from turning our attention in this direction has been, an unwillingness to interfere with the Dutch, who have been supposed to have been in possession of all the valuable islands in the archipelago, and from long-standing to have a prior right to this portion of the East; but, although the Dutch have not been idle, and are gradually adding to their possessions, there is little chance of our interfering with them, as there is room, and more, for the Dutch, ourselves, and every other nation which may feel inclined to compete with us. The possessions of the Dutch are but a mere strip in this immense field; and, although it is true that they have settlements on the Spice Islands, so named, yet we now know that every one of these islands may be made spice islands, if the inhabitants are stimulated by commerce to produce these articles of trade. It was the settlement at Sincapore which first gave us a notion of the trade which might be carried on with this archipelago. Every year large fleets of prahus have come up to Sincapore laden with commodities for barter, and have taken in exchange European goods to a certain extent; but their chief object has been to obtain gunpowder and shot, to carry on their piratical expeditions. In fact, they are traders when they can only obtain what they want by exchange; but when they can obtain it by force, they then change their character, and become pirates. But our possession of Labuan has brought us about eight hundred miles nearer to these people, and enables us to take more effectual steps towards the suppression of piracy than we have hitherto done; for this we may lay down as an axiom, that we never shall reap the advantages promised to us by commerce in this archipelago till we have most effectually put an end to the piracy which has existed in these quarters for centuries. Before I go on, I cannot help here observing how much this country is indebted to Mr. Brooke for his unwearied exertions in the cause of humanity, and his skilful arrangements. It is to be hoped, that our gratitude to him will be in proportion, and that Her Majesty's ministers will, in their distribution of honour and emoluments among those who have served them, not forget to bestow some upon one who has so well served his country. The largest, and perhaps the most important of the islands in this archipelago, although at present the most barbarous, and the most hostile to us, is that of Papua, or New Guinea. The inhabitants are as well inclined to commerce as the other natives of the archipelago, and do at present carry on a considerable trade with the Chinese, who repair there every year in their junks, which they fill with valuable cargoes adapted for the Chinese market. The Chinese have found the trade with New Guinea so lucrative, that they are doing all that they can to secure the monopoly of it, and with this view take every occasion, and do all that they possibly can, to blacken the character of the Europeans in the minds of the inhabitants. It is to this cause that the Papuan's hostility to Europeans, and especially to the English, is to be ascribed; and before we have any chance of commerce with this people, it is necessary that the Chinese should be driven away from the island, that they may no longer injure us by their malicious fabrications. This will be but a just retribution for the falsehoods and lies which they have circulated to our disadvantage. And there is another reason why we should be little scrupulous in taking this measure, which is, that one of their principal articles of commerce with the Papuans consists in slaves, which are taken on board by the Chinese, and sold at Borneo, and the adjacent islands of the archipelago, at a great profit. To obtain these slaves, the Chinese stimulate the Papuan tribes to war with each other, as is done for the same purpose in Africa. As this traffic is very considerable, and we are as much bound to put down the slave trade in the east as in the west, we have full warrant for driving their junks away, and, by so doing, there is little doubt but that in a few years we shall secure all the valuable trade of this island to ourselves. Borneo is, however, the island (or continent) to which our first attention will be particularly devoted. Up to the present we know little of it except its coasts and a portion of its rivers; but it is here that our principal attention must be given, as in its rivers and the island of Sooloo the chief piratical hordes exist. We have already had some sharp conflicts with them, and have given them some severe lessons; but although we have given them a momentary check, and some idea of our immense superiority, we must not imagine that two or three successful conflicts are sufficient to put an end to a system which has been carried on for centuries, and which is so universal, that the whole of the present generation may be said to have been "born pirates." In fact, we shall be compelled to subdue them wholly, to destroy them in all their fastnesses, to leave them without a prahu in their possession, to depose or confine their chiefs, to destroy their forts, and to carry on a war of extermination for some years, before we shall put down the piratical system which at present exists. It is not quite so easy a task as may be imagined to reform so many millions of people: for it must be remembered that it is not only at Borneo that we shall have to act, but that we must destroy the power of the sultan of Sooloo, and other tribes who frequent other islands, and who follow the same profession. It must not be forgotten that one of the principal objects of these piratical excursions is to procure slaves for sale at other ports; and perhaps this is by far the most profitable part of the speculation. As long as there is no security for the person, commerce must languish, and be proportionably checked. In putting down these marauders, we are, therefore, putting down the slave trade as with the Chinese at New Guinea. The sooner that this is effected the better; and to do it effectually we should have a large force at Labuan, ready to act with decision. Let it be remembered that, with people so crafty and so cruel as the Malays and descendants of the Arabs, lenity is misplaced, and is ascribed to cowardice. No half measures will succeed with them. Indeed, I have my doubts whether it will not be necessary to destroy almost every prahu in the archipelago, and compel the natives to remain on their territory, to cultivate or collect articles for barter, before we shall effect our purpose; for the prahu that sails as a trader is changed into a pirate as soon as temptation rises on her way. Indeed, if Labuan becomes, as it will probably be, an emporium and dépôt for European commerce, without such stringent measures a great stimulus would be given to piracy. The peaceable trading parties, on their return, would be laid in wait for by the piratical prahus, and the English manufactures on board would be so tempting, and such a source of wealth, that they would be irresistible. Neither should we be able to afford any protection to the traders, as they would be laid in wait for at the mouths or up the rivers, and would be captured without our knowledge; with this difference, perhaps, that the fear of detection would induce them to murder all the prisoners, instead of selling them as slaves, as they do at present. Unless, therefore, the most stringent measures are resorted to on our parts, an increase of commerce with this archipelago would only occasion in a reciprocal ratio an increase of piracy. The occupation of Labuan and Sarawak will, I should imagine, prove hardly sufficient to effect the important change to be desired, _i. e._ that of the total suppression of piracy. Stations, with forts, must be established at the mouths of the principal rivers, that we may have a constant watch upon the movements of the occupants. In so doing we should be only encroaching upon those who have encroached upon others: these rivers have been taken forcible possession of by the Malays and Arabs, who have driven away the proprietors of the soil, which are the Dyaks, the aborigines of the island; and they have no more right to the possessions which they hold, than their chiefs have to the high-sounding titles which they have assumed. That in taking this step we shall interfere with no vested rights is certain: we shall merely be dispossessing these piratical marauders of their strongholds; and the cause of humanity will sufficiently warrant such interference on our parts. In our first attempts to establish, a peaceful and secure commerce with this archipelago, it appears to me that it would be advisable for the Government to take some share in the venture. Ten or twelve schooners, well manned, confided to intelligent officers, and armed with one heavy gun, and swivels in the gunwales, should sail for Labuan, with assorted cargoes, with the view of both trading and checking piracy. Much depends upon the way in which the barter is first commenced, and it would be as well that it should not be left in the hands of adventurers, whose mercenary feelings might induce them to excite doubt or irritation in the minds of the natives, and, by such means, do great mischief, and impede the trade. The constant appearance of these vessels in the archipelago, the knowledge that they were sent, not only to barter, but also to protect the well-disposed against violence and rapine, would soon produce most beneficial effects, and would impose confidence. Merchant vessels which entered the trade should be empowered, by letters of marque, to put down piracy, and should be armed in a similar way. Although there is little doubt but that in a short time vessels would sail from Labuan with full cargoes for Europe, still it is more than probable that the most important part of the trade, and which would employ most vessels, would be the colonial trade, or rather, country trade, to the several marts in the Indus and China. There are many productions of the archipelago which are only valued in the East, such as bêche-de-mer, or trepang; edible birds' nests, &c. This trade we might very soon monopolise to ourselves, and a most lucrative one it would prove. The following are the articles to be found in more or less quantities over the whole of the Indian archipelago:--Antimony, tin, gold, diamonds, pearls, sapphires, ivory, gums, camphor, sago, pepper, tortoise-shell, mother-of-pearl, skins, wax, honey, cocoa-nut oil, coffee, rice, and coal, edible birds' nests and trepang; all the varieties of spices, as cinnamon, cloves, nutmegs, can be grown as soon as there is a market for them; the cotton tree nourishes; and, although not yet worked, it is proved that there is abundance of copper and lead. An archipelago containing such rich productions, and which we may, with some little trouble, receive in exchange for our manufactures, becomes a national concern, and it is the paramount duty of the Government to take every measure to facilitate the communication with it. The expedition of Mr. Murray to the river Coti, on the south side of Borneo, although, from imprudence, it ended not only unsuccessfully but tragically, fully establishes that an opening for commerce is to be established. In this expedition Mr. Murray, by his imprudence and unguarded conduct, brought upon himself the attack of the natives, in which he lost his own life, and the vessels with great difficulty escaped. Since that failure, no English vessels have attempted to trade to the south of Borneo; but we discovered that the Macassar boats paid the coast an occasional visit, under Dutch colours, exchanging beads and other trumpery for rich cargoes of ivory and skins. We also discovered that commercial negotiations with this country would not be attended with any risk, provided that the vessels employed were well armed, and the arrangements were so made as not to excite the jealousy and suspicion of the natives. European manufactures would be eagerly purchased by the natives, and would be paid for in ivory, rough ores, or dollars. Mr. Wyndham, who has settled at Sooloo, has already sent a vessel to trade on the south-east side of the island, near Gonong Tabor. So much for the southern portion of this immense archipelago. We have still to examine the more northern. Indeed, when we look upon the map, and see the quantity of territory with which we may eventually find the means of trading,--the millions who, but for the jealousy of the governments, would be glad to receive our manufactures,--we are lost in conjecture as to what extent it might eventually be driven. In the north we should certainly have more difficulties to contend with; and it will require that the whole of the naval force in India should be, for a time, devoted to this object. I believe it is as much from their utter ignorance of our power, as from any other cause, that we have hitherto been so unsuccessful at Japan; but the object we have in view may be effected, provided that a certain degree of the _fortiter in re_ be combined with the _suaviter in modo_. The Japanese now carry on a large trade with China, and also a confined trade with the Dutch, to whom they have allowed a factory upon a small island; but they treat the Dutch with the greatest indignity, and the Dutch submit to it, and, in so doing, have rendered the Europeans vile in the estimation of the Japanese. This is the error which must be destroyed by some means or other, even if it should be necessary to pick a quarrel with them, as we have already done with the Chinese. At the same time that I admit the expediency of so doing, I by no means assert that we shall be altogether justified. There is another point worthy of consideration, which is, that a whale fishery dépôt might be made with great success in this archipelago, any where to the southward and eastward; and we might recover a large portion of that lucrative employment, which, by the means of British seamen employed in American vessels, has been wrested from us; for although, at the commencement, the whale fishery from the States was carried on by Americans only, since it has so enormously increased, at least two-thirds of the people employed in the vessels are English seamen, who have become expert in the profession. It is much to be lamented that the laudable exertions of Mr. Enderby and others to revive this lucrative employment for our vessels and seamen has hitherto failed, and that some part of our surplus capital has not been devoted to an object so important to us as a maritime country. I shall conclude with a reflection which I made while I was on the coast, leaving the reader to agree with me or not, as he may be disposed. How is it, as I have already observed, that all the colonies founded by other nations, either languish or have been swept away,--not all, perhaps, as yet, but the major portion of them; while every colony founded by our little island appears to flourish, till it becomes so powerful as not only no longer to require the nursing of the mother country, but to throw off its dependence, and become a nation of itself? How is it that it can so truly be said that the sun never sets upon the English flag? It cannot be from any want of energy, or activity, or intelligence, or judgment in other nations; for surely in these qualifications we are not superior to the French or to the Dutch, although we may be to the present race of Spaniards and Portuguese. Our colonies have not been more carefully fostered than theirs: on the contrary, they have been neglected, and, if not neglected, they have been but too often oppressed. Why, then, should this be? Can religion have any thing to do with this? Can it be that Providence has imperceptibly interfered, and has decided that England shall perform the high mission; that she has been selected, as a chosen country, to fill the whole world with the true faith, with the pure worship of the Almighty? Has it been for this object that we have been supported in our maritime superiority? Has it been with this view that we have been permitted to discomfit the navies of the whole world? May it not be that when our naval commanders, with a due regard to propriety, have commenced their despatches with "It has pleased the Almighty to grant us a splendid victory," at the same time that they were trusting to the arms of flesh and blood which have so well supported their endeavours, and in their hearts ascribed their successes to the prowess of man,--may it not be, I say, that the Almighty has, for his own good reasons, fought on our side, and has given us victory upon victory, until we have swept the seas, and made the name of England known to the uttermost corners of the globe? Has this been granted us, and have we really been selected as a favoured nation to spread the pure light of the gospel over the universe? Who can say? "His ways are not our ways;" but if so, it is a high destiny, which we must act up to at every sacrifice and at every expence. THE END. London: Spottiswoode and Shaw, New-street-Square. Transcriber's Notes: The author's original (and inconsistent) spelling of place and person names has been preserved, although in some cases, the modern equivalents are substantially different. In the original text, most illustration captions had terminating punctuation but a few did not. In this transcription, terminating punctuation has been added to those captions which did not have them in order to remain consistent with the style most commonly seen in the text. Lithographs facing pages 85, 142, 199 and 201 were missing a line specifying the publisher "Longman & Co" which is present in the other lithographs. It is possible that the pages used for this transcription had been physically truncated. The original appearance of the physical page has been preserved and the publisher line, if missing, has not been added. Inconsistencies in hyphenation of words preserved. (orang outang, orang-outang; blowpipe, blow-pipe; bow-man, bowman; daylight, day-light; flagstaff, flag-staff; goodwill, good-will; gunshot, gun-shot; lighthouse, light-house; parang, pa-rang; pineapples, pine-apples; tomtoms, tom-toms; whitewashed, white-washed; pic nic, pic-nic; Nepa palm, nepa-palms) In the original text, the characters in abbreviations were separated by either a half-space or a full-space. This has been standardized to a full-space in all cases for this transcription. Pg. 19, unusual or archaic spelling of "musquitos" retained. (musquitos, scorpions, lizards, and centipedes) Pg. 20, there is a reference to date 27th May. Context suggests it should probably be 27th July. The original text has been preserved. (On the 27th May every thing had been prepared) Pg. 21, "wth" changed to "with". (delightful bay studded with small) Pg. 35, unusual or archaic spelling of "phrensy" retained. (The lovers were in a state of phrensy) Pg. 90, unusual or archaic spelling of "segars" retained. (We had plenty of wine and segars) Pg. 206, word after comma begins with uppercase, most probably it represents the start of an unspoken thought in the author's mind. Original text retained. (and we became more rational, Why were we ordered home?) Pg. 211, "dépot". On Pgs. 227 and 230, it is spelled "dépôt". Original spelling preserved in all cases. 
61599	----	THE GARDENS OF THE SUN: OR A NATURALIST'S JOURNAL ON THE MOUNTAINS AND IN THE FORESTS AND SWAMPS OF BORNEO AND THE SULU ARCHIPELAGO. By F. W. BURBIDGE, TRINITY COLLEGE BOTANICAL GARDENS, DUBLIN, AND FORMERLY OF THE ROYAL GARDENS, KEW. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. LONDON: JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 1880. I Dedicate this Work TO MY WIFE, BECAUSE WHILE I WORKED ABROAD SHE WAITED AT HOME. MOST OF US KNOW HOW EASY IT IS TO LABOUR-- ALL OF US KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO WAIT. PREFACE. This record of a time spent among the less well-known portions of Malaysia may be interesting to those whom the goddess of travel has wooed in vain, as perchance to some of those "birds of passage" to whom the islands and continents of the world are as well known as the church-spires and mile-stones of their own land. In the islands of the Malay archipelago--the Gardens of the Sun--Nature is ever beautiful, and man, although often strikingly primitive, is hospitable to the stranger, and not often vile. A voyage of a few weeks brings us to these beauty-spots of the Eastern Seas--to an "always-afternoon" kind of climate--since they are blessed with the heat and glory of eternal summer--to a place where winter is unknown--monsoon-swept islands oasis-like basking in a warm and shallow desert of sea. Warmed by perpetual sunshine, deluged by copious rains, and thrilled by electricity, they are really enormous conservatories of beautiful vegetation--great Zoological Gardens inhabited by rare birds and curious animals. In these sunny garden scenes man is the Adam of a modern Eden, primitive in habits and numerically insignificant; he has scarcely begun his battle with things inanimate, or his struggle for existence as it is known to us. At home we have man as in some sort the master of Nature, but in the Bornean forests Nature still reigns supreme. Here with us man wrests his sustenance from her--there she is lavish in the bestowal of gifts unsought. The immediate future of an island larger in area than Great Britain cannot fail to be of interest to political thinkers, especially to those who belong to the "scientific frontier" school. Malay Government is weaker now than it was even at the time Sir James Brooke received Sarawak, and the aid of our own Government is now being sought in favour of the cession of the whole of Northern Borneo--from Gaya Bay to Sabuco--to a public company! Unaided by England, Borneo seems likely to suffer in two ways--either to be annexed by the Government of Manilla, or else to fall into the hands of the promoters of public companies. The Sulu Archipelago has already thus lost its independence; and the question which now suggests itself is, What will England do with her foster-colony, Borneo the Beautiful? Borneo offers to the student of nature an ever-interesting field for research and study. The local government is very peculiar and interesting. Every village of any pretensions has its "Orang Kaya," or head man, and his house is at the service of the passing stranger. In any matter of dispute he may be referred to, and my own experience of these petty rulers was on the whole very satisfactory. I found them honest and just in their advice, although at times a little grasping in their bargains. The ease with which food is obtained in such a tropical land is of course inimical to any great exertion or progress on the part of the natives. That most generous of all food-giving plants, the Banana, is everywhere naturalised in Borneo up to an altitude of 3000 feet. It fruits all the year, its produce being to that of wheat as 133:1, and to that of the potato as 44:1. With rice and a few esculent roots, all easily grown, it gives a profusion of food at a slight expenditure of labour--labour for the most part performed by the women. The Malays of Borneo are morally far inferior to the inland tribes; and, wherever it is possible to them, live in voluptuous ease. Borneo is the home of the "Orang-utan," or "wild man of the woods," an animal which, with its African relative, the "Gorilla," has occupied the attention of so many of the first thinkers of our time. Here, in its native forests, this large man-like ape lives in the great natural orchards, swinging itself from bough to bough with its peculiarly long arms, building its platform or nest of leafy branches, and eating its meal of fruit in peace. "Let any naturalist," says a modern observer, "who is prejudiced against the Darwinian views go to the forests of Borneo. Let him there watch from day to day this strangely human form in all its various phases of existence. Let him see it climb, walk, build its nest, eat, and drink, and fight. Let him see the female suckle her young and carry it astride her hip precisely as do the Coolie women of Hindostan. Let him witness the human-like emotions of affection, satisfaction, pain, and childish rage. Let him see all this, and then he may feel how much more potent has been this lesson than all he has read in pages of abstract ratiocination." After all, the Orang-utan is a poor creature, with but an outer resemblance to the human species. In intelligence he is not only far below the lowest savage, but even inferior to the horse or the dog. No amount of teaching will make the Orang-utan or any other ape practically useful to man. Do all we can for them in a state of confinement, they are simply big helpless monkeys to the last! The avifauna of the island is very rich. Its pheasants rival those of China in beauty. The great hornbills abound in the fruit groves, and are giants in comparison with their representatives the toucans of South America. Here the humming-birds of the new world are amply represented by the sun-birds. Mound-building megapodia are common, their earth-works rivalling those of the termites; and the edible nest-making swallow works in its dark cave dwellings to satisfy the epicurean tastes of those Eastern aldermen, the mandarins of the Celestial Empire. One peculiar species of kingfisher always makes its nest in company with that of a colony of wild bees. Its young may be fed on the young larvae, or perchance the company of the bees may be courted for the sake of their protection in the event of the nest being attacked. Amongst my own introductions to European gardens is a singular species of pitcher plant or nepenthes, the urns of which are armed with two sharp and strong spines (see p. 341). Its pitchers always contain insects of various kinds, and I am convinced that the spines are present to prevent birds and insect-hunting animals such as the tarsier from removing these insects from the urns. The stalk of this nepenthes is swollen quite near to the pitcher in a singular manner, and is there punctured by a peculiar species of ant, but I could never satisfactorily account for their presence, unless it be in search of water. Beccari, during his travels in Borneo, discovered a singular plant--Myrmecodia--parasitic on low jungle trees. Its economy is most interesting. The young seedlings, when about an inch in height, are punctured or bitten by an ant, an operation which causes the stem to become gouty and eventually hollow; in fact, a natural living hive in which the ants then shelter themselves. This is their own gain, and they in turn rush out to resent any attack which may be made on their living nest. A case analogous to this of mutual protection is recorded of an African species of acacia. The most singular thing in connection with this co-operative affair is that unless the young seedling plants are bitten in due course they are said by Beccari to die. I saw this plant daily for a long period, and often amused myself by attacking it in order to see how invariably the ants rushed out in force to repel the intruder. I also noted many young seedlings both living and dead, but of my own knowledge could scarcely venture so far as to say that the dead ones had succumbed owing to the ants having neglected to bite them! An account of some of the more remarkable of my discoveries and introductions may be found in the Appendix to this volume, p. 339. In conclusion, I may be allowed to say that the far interior of Borneo still remains to be explored. It is emphatically a wild land without roads or bridges, and a march right across the island from the north-east to the north-west coast, although a formidable undertaking, would if accomplished reveal much that is at present unknown. F. W. B. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. EASTWARD, HO! PAGE Gibraltar--Port Said--Suez Canal--Kantara--Aden--Life Afloat--Floating Homes 1 CHAPTER II. SINGAPORE. Hotels--Singapore--An Eastern Port--A Tropical Island--Chinese Settlers--Chinese Play--Tropical Night--Climate 14 CHAPTER III. VISIT TO JAHORE--GUNONG PULOI. On the way--Gambling--River-travel--In the forest--Vegetation--A resting-place--Tropical fruits--Breed of dogs--On the summit--Wild animals--Wild men--Sale of women 31 CHAPTER IV. RIVER AND FOREST TRAVEL. A Sea-snake--A dreary landing--Native dancing--Orchids at home--Tropical flowers--The jungle leech--A bad dinner--Rough paths--The blow-pipe--Head-hunting--A Murut reception 47 CHAPTER V. KINA BALU, OR CHINESE WIDOW MOUNTAIN. Journey to Kina Balu--Visit to Pangeran Rau--Agricultural implements--Sea gipsies--Datu of the Badjows--Musa--Fertile plain--River-side gardens--Women gardeners--Fording the Tawaran--Bawang--Good scenery--Si Nilau--Kalawat--Rat-traps--A wet journey--Bungol--Koung village--Native traders--Rice culture--Kiau--Hiring of guides--Ascent of Kina Balu--A curious breakfast--Rare plants en route--Mountain flowers--Large pitcher plants--A cave dwelling--Scarcity of water--Mountain orchids--Cool climate--Slippery descent--Lost in the forest--Return to Kiau--Native produce--Journey to Marie Parie Spur--Return to the coast--Native women of the interior--Hire of native boat--Return to Labuan 77 CHAPTER VI. LABUAN ISLAND. Labuan--Inhabitants--Industries--Coal mines--Revenues and acreage--Oil spring--Climate--Rare ferns--Tropical flowering trees--Fruit culture--Birds--Pitcher plants--Snakes--Sun birds--Large spiders--Ants--Salt making--Pratchan--Old gardens--Lizards--Mason wasp--A favourite horse--Annual games on the plain--Church--River travel 114 CHAPTER VII. BEAUTIFUL BORNEO. Borneo--Wild animals--The Malays--Poetry--Romances--Dewa Indra--Native government--Pile dwellings--Intermarriage--Language--Clothing--Courtship--Marriage --Inland tribes--Land culture--Native villages--Food products-- Textile fabrics--Bark cloth--Native women--Climate--Native produce --Kayan weapon--Rivers--Gambling--Opium smoking 139 CHAPTER VIII. A CITY OF LAKE DWELLINGS. Brunei the capital--Market Chinese traders--Gun foundry--The Istana--Weak government--The Sultan Moumein--Native jewellery--Native smithy--Public executions--Punishment for robbery--Sago factories--Inter-marriage--Morality--Old mission church--Boat journey inland--Murut hospitality--Canoe travel--Forest travel--New aroids--Native insects--Day flying moths--River travel by moonlight--Sago-washing station 161 CHAPTER IX. A VOYAGE TO SULU. Sulu Archipelago--Long drought--Jungle fires--Sandakan--Good water supply--Insects and birds--How an alligator was utilised--A boat excursion--Visit to the shore--A Chinese trader--Chinese hospitality--Slavery--A walk by the river--Manilla hemp--Native tombs--Frangipane, or the "dead man's flower"--Rough walking--Interesting birds 183 CHAPTER X. A ROYAL PIG HUNT. A royal boar-hunt--The Sultan of the Sulus--Sultana and ladies of the Court--Sulu costume and arms--Fine breed of ponies--Rough ground--Pig-sticking--Food for the dogs--A pleasing sight--Invitation to the Istana--Datu Mahomed--The Sulu "Prince of Wales"--Curious saddles--Pony racing--Meimbong stream--Pleasant evening light--Birds--Large bats--Abundance of butterflies--Fine fish--Good angling--The "Hill of Tears"--Sugh, the old capital--Market at Meimbong--Tobacco--Native produce--Chain armour--Chinese settlers 193 CHAPTER XI. THE SULTAN'S ISTANA AND THE "HILL OF TEARS." A moonlight ride--A fragrant weed--The Istana--Modern armament--"Gelah"--Royal hospitality--A social servant--The Sultan--State sword or "Barong"--A Sulu dinner--A long audience--Curiosity of the ladies--Departure to the mountain--A newly-made grave--Orchids at home--A treat for our cattle--Rough climbing--Ferns and mosses--The summit--Good views--Old traditions of the mountain--A picnic under cocoanut palms--"Gelah" v. Hennessy--Return to the Istana--Further audience of the Sultan--Former civilisation--Carved wood-work--Old manufactures--Old enemies--Physique of the Sulus--A pearl among the swine--Market-people--Slavery--Language--Land culture--Native food products--Domestic animals--Sea fruit 207 CHAPTER XII. A ROYAL VISIT. Exploring rides--A state visit--Culinary business--Arrival of the Sultan and suite--Procession of boats--Armed attendants--A royal salute--Visit to the ship--Use of dogs aboard--Amusements ashore--Eastern singing--A royal interpreter--Dress of the ladies--Influence of the women--An early rising Sultana--Marine amusements--Departure--Journey to Bu'ut Dahau--Hospitality of the mountaineers--Ascent--Fine views from the top--Flowers and insects--A Hadji's tradition--Siassi Island--A horned steed--Sandakan--Pulo Bahalatolois 223 CHAPTER XIII. KINA BALU, viâ TAMPASSUK. Preparations--"Salaamat jelan" or safe voyage--Contrary winds--A total wreck--A sea bath--Making the best of it--Native visitors from the Bornean shore--Drying stores--Pigeon shooting--Foraging--Football--Tent life--A new boat--A marine visitor--Pulo Tiga--A fish dinner--Shore plants--Big fish-- The Tampassuk--"The fatted calf"--Start for Kina Balu--Bare hills--Land culture--Bad roads--Ghinambaur village--Textile fibres--A chance shot--Thrifty natives--Buffalo riding--A friendly chief--Sineroup--Native wealth--Charms--Crossing swollen river--New orchids--Kambatuan--Rokos--Butterflies--Koung Green--Aboriginals from the interior--Pretty weeds--Lemoung's death--Native ornaments--Native cloth--Bee keeping--How to manage "guides"--"Kurow"--Start for "Kina Balu"--Sleeping rock--Dusun cookery!--New plants--More of the "guide" nuisance 239 CHAPTER XIV. Plant collecting--Large Nepenthes--Sociable birds--Mountain climbing--Cold nights--Descent--Safe return to Kiau--Old skulls--Tree ferns--Fine climate--Land culture--Crossing rivers--"Lapayang's" welcome--Tarippe fruit--"Beuhan"--Pleasant evening at Kambatuan village--Graceful young girls--Bundoo--Little gardens en route--Ghinambaur village--A hard day's walking--Return to the Tampassuk--Short-tailed buffaloes--Two-horned rhinoceros--Return to Labuan--Smith's illness--Success of the expedition 278 CHAPTER XV. TROPICAL FRUITS. Tropical fruits--Culture of--Natural fruit orchards--The Durian--A macédoine of fruits--The Mangosteen--"Prada Prada"--Mango--The Rambutan or "hairy fruit"--Bread fruit--Jack-fruit, or "Nangka"--"Champada"--Jintawan, or Manoongan fruits (Willughbeia spp.)--Tampoe fruit--Red "Bilimbing"--"Mandaroit"--"Rambeneer"--"Mambangan"--"Luing"-- "Langsat" or "Duku"--"Rambi"--"Mangalin"--"Jambosa," or "Rose-apples"--Melons--Oranges--Pomoloes--Custard apples--Cocoa-nut--Wild onion fruit--Banana, or "Pisang" fruit 304 CHAPTER XVI. NOTES ON TROPICAL TRAVEL. Hints on travel--Food supplies--Bathing--Medicines--Modes of travelling--Shelter--Resting-places--Barter--Articles for exchange--Arms in a wild land--Products of the island--Prospects of Borneo 323 APPENDIX. List of Ferns collected in Borneo 345 Report on Burbidge's Ferns of the Sulu Archipelago 350 A Contribution to the Avifauna of the Sulu Islands 352 On Collections of Birds from Kina Balu Mountain in North-Western Borneo 359 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE MALAY DANCING GIRL Frontispiece EGYPTIAN WATER COOLER 5 SHE OF THE MARKET 7 ARAB DHOW 10 "KAYU KUTOH" 27 ORANG UTAN OR WILD MEN OF JAHORE (male and female) 44 GREATER MOTH ORCHID (PHALÆNOPSIS) AT HOME 52 PLAN OF A DUSUN COTTAGE, N.W. BORNEO 85 BAMBOO RAT-TRAP 87 PLAN OF LARGE DUSUN HOUSE, AT KIAU, N.W. BORNEO 96 TANYONG KUBONG, OR COAL POINT, LABUAN 114 ELK'S HORN FERN 119 MASON WASP 130 SECTION OF ITS NEST 131 COURTSHIP 147 MARRIAGE 148 KAYAN WAR KNIFE 158 CARVED WOODWORK OVER DOORS AND WINDOWS 216 DAPANG, OR OUTRIGGED BOAT, SULU ISLANDS 225 FORDING TAMPASSUK RIVER ON BUFFALOES 250 DUSUN BORNEANS AT A STREAM 264 RHODODENDRON STENOPHYLLUM 274 KINA BALU FROM GHINAMBAUR (EVENING) 298 ONION FRUIT 321 PINANGA VEITCHII 340 NEPENTHES BICALCARATA 341 THE GARDENS OF THE SUN. CHAPTER I. EASTWARD, HO! Gibraltar--Port Said--Suez Canal--Kantara--Aden--Life Afloat--Floating Homes. When our ship had nearly reached the mouth of the Mersey, on her outward voyage, the boatswain and his men were busily engaged in lashing everything moveable in its place on deck. "We shall get it to-night," said that man of the sea; but on the vessel went as smoothly as ever, and everybody was merry at dinner-time, hours after the "Bosun's" prophecy. We watched the setting sun, and a gorgeous after-glow of purple, grey, and gold. Then came the twilight, and a sense of chilliness. The land on the port-side was lost in a soft grey mist; then it became colder and darker, and we went below. The saloon looked bright and cheerful, with its sparkle of glasses in the swinging racks, and the mellow light of the lamps. I read for an hour or more, and then "turned in," heartily glad to think we were having such a smooth and pleasant time, and that the "Bosun's" prediction had not been verified. I was soon asleep. How long I slept I do not quite remember, but I dreamed that I was falling down a well, and the crash made when I reached the bottom awoke me. I forgot for the moment where I was, but my first impressions were that, Zazel-like, I had been shot out of a cannon, and that I was whirling round chain-shot fashion. Instinctively stretching out my hands, I found myself in my berth, but the ship was plunging and rolling very much, and everything moveable was knocking about in all directions. Another crash, similar to the one which awoke me, told of loose crockery going to destruction in the steward's pantry. I spent some time in trying to decide whether the ship was playing at leapfrog, or trying to turn a somersault. A "sea change" put an end to my deliberations. Sleep was impossible, and I was glad when morning came, and I held on to the berth with one hand, and dressed with the other. That man of the sea was right. We had "got" it, and no mistake; and we continued to "get it" until off Cape St. Vincent, when we regained smooth water. Cape St. Vincent is a rocky bluff, crested with a ruined convent and a lighthouse, the white walls of which gleam out brightly in the sunshine, although we are fully ten miles away. After we have passed it, and look back, it forms a much more picturesque object than when seen directly opposite; and in front of the nearly perpendicular cliffs is a curious cone-shaped rock, and through the narrow passage between this and the mainland, tradition says an American skipper ran his vessel for a wager, and got through safely. The whole coast here is bold and rocky, but not dangerous. Large craft may ride close in under the cliffs. A few miles further along is Cape Sartenius, a rocky headland, which rises perpendicularly from the sea, and is crowned with a fort and lighthouse; and from this point the rugged coast-line falls away towards Trafalgar Bay and Gibraltar, a distance of nearly two hundred miles. We were fortunate in seeing the red honey-combed rock at Gibraltar in the morning's sunshine, the pretty little town of St. Roque lying behind across the neutral ground. To the left the cork woods and Algesiraz. Exactly opposite "Gib," on the African side, is Ceuta, with its lighthouse and fort on the hill, and square flat-topped Moorish houses below; while Apes' Hill stands up clear and dark against the masses of fleecy white clouds. The straits here are about six miles wide, and it was near this point that the Moors used to cross, Pict and Scot fashion, into Spain in the olden time. Of course, like Mark Twain, we saw the "Queen of Spain's chair" on the hill behind Gibraltar, and a naturalist friend reminds me that the rock here is the only place in Europe where monkeys and scorpions are naturalised. The wag meant "Rock Scorpions" I suppose, but the monkeys are there all right enough. By the aid of a good glass, we saw patches of cultivated crops on the low coast hills, and whitewashed farm-houses were freely dotted amongst them. Now we were fairly into the blue waters of the Mediterranean, and the coast lines began to recede on either side. Here and there, however, over the coast hills we obtained glimpses of the snow-peaked Sierra Nevada mountains standing out clear and cool against the blue sky. It was about the middle of June, and very hot during the day time, but chilly at night. The sea is of the most emphatic blue when you look down into it, but has a purplish glow towards the horizon. The sunsets are occasionally very beautiful, with their tints of crimson, salmon, grey, vermilion, and gold. It is pleasant at sunrise, after a bracing salt-water bath under the hose-pipe, to watch the silvery dolphin as they follow each other in line and play around the bows of the ship, at times leaping clear out of the water. The velocity of these creatures is wonderful; they gambol around a ship, and keep up alongside without any apparent effort. A few black and white sea-gulls are the only aërial visitors, except that now and then flying fish are seen skimming the surface of the blue water with their glistening wings. In some places they may be seen by the hundred, rising in flocks from the water, to escape their enemies below. They fly for a distance of two or three hundred yards, rising and falling in a sinuous manner; and occasionally they dip into the crest of a wave for a moment, to moisten their wings, which enables them to prolong their flight. Many were washed or flew on board during the night, and were very delicate in flavour. The sailors say they fly at the lights, and thus fall on deck, which may be the fact, as it was only after dark that any were caught in this manner. Some specimens were sixteen inches in length, but about half that size appeared to be the average. We caught a passing glimpse of Galita and Malta on our way. Both were once little more than barren rocks; indeed, Galita is so still; but Malta has been improved by cultivation, and now yields much of the early vegetable produce brought to the Paris and London markets. Tradition hath it that formerly vessels trading to Malta were obliged to bring a certain quantity of earth with them, so anxious were the Maltese to improve their tiny farms. Port Said was our first stopping place; and, after a fortnight afloat, we were glad to see the lighthouse, like a yellow speck on the horizon. We went ashore, and saw the town, which stands close to the sea-beach, and by the entrance to the canal, with which it is contemporaneous. Behind, as far as one can see, stretches the arid desert itself. The old Arab town of square, flat-topped houses, is nearly a mile away to the right. The new town consists mainly of shops and hotels, with the exception of the consular residences, the hospital, and post-office. I visited the hospital, with the young Irish ship's doctor as a companion, and among the inmates saw an American suffering from fever and chronic rheumatism. In one of the cells, guarded by a couple of Arab sentries, we found a young, fair-haired, blue-eyed Greek sailor, who had murdered an Arab girl through jealousy the night before. I was struck by the gentle, inoffensive expression on his face; but I suppose he did not deserve the pity I felt for him. A public square, planted with trees, shrubs, and flowers, forms an oasis in the midst of the desert of dusty streets, and white-washed or stucco houses. Most of the houses are two-storied, and furnished with cool, shady verandahs; and in some cases they are covered with the green drapery of a large convolvulus, which adds much to the picturesque effect of walls and fences throughout the place. In the gardens, bananas, date-palms, bamboo, and other vegetation common to hothouses at home, here grow in the open air, with no other protection than that afforded by a belt of tall reeds. Nothing is produced here, even the necessary fruits and culinary vegetables being brought from Malta, or the Mediterranean ports. Soil and fresh water for the little gardens has to be procured from Ismalia, fifty miles away. In the markets we found plenty of ripe grapes, fine pomegranates, water-melons, and great pithy-skinned oranges. Vegetables consisted of lettuce, onions, beet, the Egyptian turnip-rooted kind, peas, okre, and gourds. Most of the stands were attended by lazy Arab women, of various ages, who sat cross-legged among their goods, and kept off the flies with switches of horse-hair. A tight-fitting cap, ornamented with little gold coins, covered their heads, and their figures were enshrouded in great black cloaks, reaching to their heels. We saw some old Arabs watering the hot and dusty streets with sea-water, which they carried in large skin "bottles," slung behind them, so that the march of modern progress has not yet obliterated all the old customs and utensils of these singularly primitive people. We took about a hundred tons of coal on board here. This was brought to the side of the vessel in lighters, and carried up sloping planks by some fifty or sixty swarthy fellows, who kept up a droning chant the whole time. They each carried up about a hundred weight at once in a basket; and the whole gang reminded one of a colony of black ants, as they swarmed up one plank in quick succession, and trotted down another, after disposing of their dirty load. Perhaps the Pyramids, and other gigantic architectural erections, were reared by myriads of ant-like workers, similar to these we now saw. Two mail steamers entered the Canal before us, and it is a very odd sight to see the masts of the first one gliding away to the left, nothing else being visible but the flat sea of sand as far as the eye can reach. Pilots are necessary for the Canal, and notwithstanding their special knowledge and skill, vessels frequently get aground. Coaling over, we get under way and enter the strip of salt water which connects the Mediterranean with the Gulf of Suez, passing through the flat desert, a distance of about eighty-seven miles. The completion of this undertaking, apart from facilitating European and Eastern commerce, has also, if local report speaks truly, benefited the climate of the district as well; a current of cool air is now attracted along its route, and the precious burden of the rain-clouds has also been brought to this tract of arid sands, which previously were almost entirely destitute of showers. Another benefit to the dwellers on its shores is the fish which travel along this strip of water-way and so are caught close to the doors of those who live or who are employed along its banks. At five mile intervals along the banks are stations for signalling purposes, and as the strip of seaway is not broad enough for two vessels to pass each other, the Canal is widened at each "gare," so that one vessel can make fast while the other passes. The whole thing is regulated by a simple telegraphic and signalling system. Nearly all these stations have little gardens, but the prettiest of them all in this way is that at the old Arab town and ferry station of Kantara, through which many caravans pass on their way to and from Cairo. Here is a tiny hotel, and several little whitewashed houses with shady verandahs laden with climbing plants of various kinds. One of the houses is sheltered by a row of poplars, and the colour and fragrance of the oleanders were delightful. The Arabs call this flower the "Rose of the Desert," and certainly at this little oasis it might fairly be said that the desert had been made "to blossom as the rose." We reached here at sunset, and the air was deliciously cool and fresh, and a sight of the dark green poplar trees was most cheering and home-like. Crickets chirped in the sand, and the splashing of the fish in the Canal was heard very frequently after we had made fast for the night. The tints on the vegetation and sand-hills by the banks just before sunset are most lovely, and the sunsets themselves very gorgeous as seen through the clear dry air. Two of the firemen had to be placed in irons soon after leaving Port Said, to prevent them from leaping overboard or injuring themselves. They were literally maddened by some villanous spirituous drink which had been smuggled on board during the hurry and bustle of coaling in the morning. Here and there we passed the bodies of dead camels, on which wolfish-looking dogs or vultures regale themselves. Flocks of flamingoes were seen in the distance. As the air becomes clearer after sunrise the distant sand-hills resemble islands in a broad lake or sea, an effect due to mirage; indeed, the semblance of a flat expanse of water lying in the full sunshine near the horizon is so perfect as to deceive all but the experienced. The hills of loose sand close to the banks of the Canal are swept quite smooth by the winds in some places, while here and there the surface is rippled like a snow-ruck, and the foot-prints on these "sands of time" made by the passing Arab are singularly like those made in frozen snow. At one of the stations an old Arab offered a basket of very fine fish for sale which he had caught in the Canal the night before. We got a view of the Khedive's Palace and M. F. de Lessep's residence at Ismalia just before running through the "Bitter Lakes," and reached Suez before sundown. The passage through the Canal takes about two days, as the rate of progress is necessarily slow to avoid washing down the banks, and there are frequent stoppages. Suez is a larger town and much older than Port Said, but its inhabitants depend almost entirely on the few residents connected with the Canal and Railway to Alexandria, and the pilgrims who land here on their way to Mecca and Medina, the birthplace and tomb of their Prophet. After leaving Suez the climate becomes hotter every day. The coast-line is backed by barren looking copper-coloured mountains, and the air smells hot and dry, like that of the greenhouse devoted to the cactus family at Kew. Two or three steamers with pilgrims on board for Suez were seen. Among the visitors from the coast were great brown locusts, a humming-bird hawk moth, and one or two small birds. A quail flew on board, and flitted about the deck for two or three days. Another little bird, as elegantly shaped as a lark, stayed on board for several days; it was brown in colour, with almost black wing-tips; it had a band of white just above the tail, and this gave the bird a characteristic appearance, especially during its jerky red-cap like flight. We went into Aden, and I never felt the heat so much anywhere before or since. It is a huge Dutch oven of sunburnt rocks without a sign of vegetation as seen from the harbour. It is astonishing how soon one begins to take a personal interest in a ship on which a long voyage has to be made. The second mate was the skipper of a China trader, and tells me of the palmy days before the Canal was opened, and when freights were £12 a ton. One of the quartermasters was an ex-royal yachtsman, a civil and obliging old fellow, with a sharp eye for grog. One of the stewards has been a photographer, and another is a hairdresser--rather a luxury to have aboard ship. The old Welsh stewardess was a character, with nightly tendencies towards hot rum and water and old superstitious stories of the sea. The captain is a fat, red-whiskered old sea-dog, who knows all about everything, but evidently never enjoyed an introduction to Mr. Lindley Murray in his youth. His politics are peculiar, and his motto appears to be that of the ultra radicals, "Down with everything what's up." Penang was our next stopping-place, and we got ashore for two days, and enjoyed a walk around the town and a ride to the "Falls" and the "Hill." Two days afterwards we stepped on to the Pile wharf at Tanjong Paggar or the "fenced cape" at Singapore, and our experiences of the tropics really began. The voyage for two days down the Straits of Malacca had been very pleasant, and we thoroughly enjoyed the smooth blue sea and clear sky, flecked now and then by tiny fleets of junks with their mat sails of a soft golden hue, reminding one of cornstacks at home. Bukit-Jugra, Cape Rachardo, and Mount Ophir towering up above the horizon behind the town of Malacca itself, were distinctly seen ere we reached the numerous islets near the entrance to the harbour and roads at Singapore. A long sea voyage has its pleasures as well as its drawbacks; and in travelling eastward, more especially, it is quite possible, after crossing "the Bay," to get a smooth voyage all the way. There are times when the Mediterranean, the Indian Ocean, and the China Sea lie sleeping in the sunshine, and a steamer runs as smoothly as a canal boat. Of course a yachtsman of the old sea-dog school is disgusted with this sort of fine weather sailing; but it is most pleasant to passengers on board steamships who can lie and read under the cool side of the awning, drinking in the fresh ozonised sea air, untroubled for the nonce by the cares of business or the whirl and bustle of the town. A curious feeling comes over one on viewing the boundless ocean for the first time on a calm, cloudless day. It makes one feel extremely small to gaze on what appears to be the eternity of sea around, with not a speck or a sail to break the view on all sides. Then when a breeze springs up a sense of freedom animates the breast as the vessel rushes through the water and shakes the milk-white foam from her bows, as though also glad to be free. The pleasure is akin to that of the saddle. The exhilarating motion of the ship stirs one's blood and sends it coursing through one's veins, as she "walks the waters like a thing of life," and the strong pure breeze fans our cheeks and the cool spray comes in our faces like a shower of dew. Well might Ruskin give our English pastime of yachting the first place amongst recreations. Nothing can be more refreshing than to stand on board a tight little vessel when there is, according to the poetry of youthful memory, "A wet sheet and a flowing sea, and a wind that follows fast." In the joy of the moment you do not wonder at the sea-fights, the brave sailors, and the corsairs of old; the men who love the sea and can struggle with it through all its moods and phases, will be brave anywhere. If the sea does not nerve a man to brave actions, nothing else ever will. Life on the sea is most refreshing to the average landsman, and on board ship time flies more pleasantly perhaps than anywhere else, if it be true that "sweet do nothing" is the acme of enjoyment. What an appetite the sea-breezes give one for breakfast, which is perhaps of all meals that least enjoyed by inland residents on shore. Our floating cities are the triumphs of modern civilised ingenuity; and during propitious weather in a warm climate, life afloat possesses for the time a freshness and novelty unobtainable elsewhere. CHAPTER II. SINGAPORE. Hotels--Singapore--An Eastern Port--A Tropical Island--Chinese Settlers--Chinese Play--Tropical Night--Climate. This port, which is also the seat of the government of the Straits Settlements, has not inaptly been called the "Liverpool of the East," and the applicability of that title soon becomes evident to the stranger from "home," who finds himself on the landing-stage at Tanjong Paggar for the first time. Here is a range of warehouses or "godowns" for the storage of goods, and coaling sheds for the supply of the mail and other steamers moored alongside. One is soon glad to get away from the heat, the noise of the steam winch, and the coal-dust; and a gharry or cab having been procured, the dusky Jehu springs to his seat on the shaft, from which "coign of vantage" he uses both whip and voice in urging on at a gallop a plucky little pony, scarcely larger than a donkey, and most probably bred either in Sumatra or Pegu. You meet other little ponies in other little gharries coming full tilt down the road to the wharf, a string of buffalo-carts, or occasionally a neat little private carriage, and you soon become aware of the fact that Singapura, as it is still called, of the Malays is both hot and dusty. On you go, and the stuffy little gharry, even if it has no windows, soon becomes as hot as an oven, and the perspiration streams from every pore. By the time you reach the hotels the chances are that your shirt and collar are in the state best described as "pulpy;" and if you are of a sanguine temperament, your face may be said to resemble "the rising sun." Of course you have kept your eyes open as you came along past the rough hedges on the right clothed with red lantanas, the neat police-station on the bank to the left, with those beautiful crimson and buff-flowered hibiscus bushes before the door. Then the rows of Chinese houses and shops, an elaborate Hindoo temple or two of white stone, and then street after street of whitewashed red tile roofed shops, until you reach the square, where you meet your agent, or to the hotels, nearly all of which are clustered around the tall spire of the cathedral, which you will have seen as the ship steamed slowly into harbour. The chances are you will have been recommended to one or other of the hotels by some knowing friend. The Hotel de l'Europe is the principal one; but at the time I arrived in Singapore the chef-de-cuisine had such a bad name that I was recommended elsewhere. One is sure to be comfortable at any of the first-class houses at prices varying from two to five dollars daily, or less by monthly arrangement. For this sum one may secure a more or less comfortable bedroom or suite simply whitewashed, the floor covered with yellow rattan matting, which is both cool and clean. The walls, as a rule, do not boast of anything great in the way of pictorial embellishment; at night, however, lively little insect-eating lizards disport themselves thereon; and then, too, the hum of the hungry mosquito is heard. In the morning you rise soon after gun-fire (5 A.M.). It is daylight about 6 A.M.; and after partaking of a cup of tea or coffee, and the inevitable two bits of toast, you have a walk. Everybody nearly seems astir. While dressing, the chances are you will hear a gentle tap at the door, or hearing it opened very cautiously, you turn suddenly, and are startled by a dusky apparition in an enormous white turban. It is an itinerant Kling, or Hindoo Figaro, who seeing you are one of the new arrivals by yesterday's mail, would like to shave you, or cut your hair, at a charge of half a dollar. Strolling outside into the main thoroughfares you see a strange motley crowd. The markets are full to overflowing with edibles of all kinds; meat, fish, vegetables, and fruit lie about in glorious profusion. Here a heap of fresh fish of the most vivid colours, there a pile of yellow pine-apples or bright scarlet chilies, oranges, pomoloes, mangosteen and rambutan, Chinese long beans, fresh green lettuces and young onions, tomatoes, and the hundred and one elements of native cookery, which are perfectly unintelligible to any but native eyes. Chinese coolies coming in from the interior of the island laden with fruit and vegetables, or other commodities. Sleek fat-faced celestials in black jackets, loose white trousers, and white European felt hats, taking their morning's stroll, and in every doorway gaunt-featured Chinese artizans of the tailor and shoemaker type sit or stand enjoying the cool fresh air and their morning's whiff of tobacco at the same time. The Chinese predominate, but you will find dusky spider-limbed Klings and the more compact little brown Malays fairly represented. You will notice gharries coming into town laden with Chinese traders, and other vehicles bring in the European storekeepers, agents, clerks, &c. You return about eight o'clock, and have a bath, and then dress for breakfast. As you sit in the verandah or open basement awaiting the gong for breakfast being struck, various itinerant traders, generally Klings or Chinese, try to tempt you with their wares, for which they ask about five times as much as they are worth, or could be bought for in London. Japanese and Chinese fans, slippers, cabinets, lacquer ware, and carved ivory goods, all of second or third rate value, form their stock in trade in general, while some offer gold brocade worked for slippers or smoking-caps, crape handkerchiefs and shawls, or Indian embroidery, and even socks and white handkerchiefs of cheap European make. Of course, to a new arrival, everything is strange, and not the least perplexing is the Babel of language on all hands. English, Dutch, German, Chinese, Javanese, Hindustani, Spanish, Portuguese, and Malay, the latter by far the most general--the lingua franca which all use in common. At last, bang! bang!! bang!!! goes the gong, and breakfast is ready exactly at 9 A.M. There is no ceremony. A little regiment,--an awkward squad rather,--of Chinese "boys" hand the dishes in turn. As a rule, everything is well cooked, and there is variety enough for everybody. Beef-steaks and mutton-chops, one or two well-made curries and rice, eggs and bacon, cold ham, boiled eggs, salads, vegetables, and plenty of fresh fruit. Coffee or tea is not so much in favour here in the East as at home, bottled Bass, claret, or Norwegian beer, being preferred instead. After a long morning's walk, however, scarcely any beverage is so grateful as an accompaniment to the post-prandial cigar as is a cup of freshly-roasted coffee. Breakfast over, the real business of the day commences. All the large stores and godowns are opened at 8.30 or 9.0 A.M., and from 10 until 12.30 everyone is alert and busy. Gharries are whisking about in all directions. The fattest and sleekest and richest of Chinese merchants arrive in their more or less imposing carriages, boats and sampans are going to or returning from the shipping in the roads, buffalo carts ply between the godowns in town and those at the wharf, the sun pours down its heat and light from the zenith, and everybody seems intent on making their hay while it shines. All the principal stores and shops are either in "the Square" or its vicinity, and here you can procure home comforts of nearly every description, together with the latest books and home papers. You will procure the latest news at Little's Store, and will see many things there to interest you. Sale & Co.'s, and Katz's Stores, are also well worth a visit, and few of the Chinese shops will compare well with that of the late Hon. C. Whampoa, C.M.G., who was a most influential trader in the place. The "Square" is an oblong plot of turf planted with various tropical trees, and one of these, although fast going to decay, is well worthy of notice, being completely enshrouded with rare orchids of various kinds. This stands immediately opposite the Singapore Dispensary, and owes its interesting appearance to Mr. Jamie, who first planted it with orchids some years ago. Amongst other plants Aerides suavissimum is especially luxuriant, completely wreathing some of the principal branches with its glossy green leaves, and many seedlings of this species have germinated and are now promising little plants. Vandas, Phalænopsis grandiflora, and P. amabilis also grow and flower well here in close proximity to the dusty streets. In Singaporean gardens the rarest of moth orchids are planted in cocoa-nut shells and hung from the verandahs, or placed on the mango or orange trees on the lawn, where they soon establish themselves. How many English orchid amateurs would wish for such a genial clime. A morning in the "Square" gives one a tolerably clear insight into the enterprise and trade of Singapore. You hear a good deal about the price of sago or gutta and rice, or about the chartering of steamers or sailing craft, or the freight on home or export goods. You are sure to meet two or three captains of trading steamers. Captain Linguard, perhaps, after one of his trips to the Coti river away on the south-east of Borneo, and then you will hear something of the rubber-market, or of the pirates, of whom, perhaps, few men know more than this energetic "Rajah Laut," or "Sea King," as he is called by the natives. Another maritime celebrity is Captain Ross, a genial sailor, who owns the mail steamer "Cleator," which runs between Singapore, Labuan, and Brunei, on the north-west Bornean coast. Captain Ross is well acquainted with the principal places in the whole Malayan Archipelago; and few residents have an equal colloquial knowledge of their languages. He has been attacked by pirates more than once in the old days, and is quite a nautical authority in every way. That tall, dark young fellow yonder, with the heavy moustache, is Captain Cowie, who ran the gauntlet of the Spanish gun-boats so successfully during the Sulu war, carrying rice, powder, and arms for the Sultan's people; and here one also meets "old sea dogs" of nearly every nationality, but more especially English and Dutch. One must of course look in at Emmerson's for tiffin, and a glance at the home papers and telegrams. Tiffin is much like breakfast, only nearly all the dishes are cold. The curries here are excellent; and a well-made salad of fresh green vegetables is a treat, when the temperature is 92° in the shade. The Raffles Institution is well worthy of a visit--an interesting museum of native curiosities and natural history specimens having recently been formed; and there is here an excellent library of books, on nearly all subjects. A collection of economic products is in course of formation, and if well carried out, will add much to the interest of the place. The Botanical Gardens are situated at Tanglin, a distance of about three miles from the town of Singapore; and as the roads are smooth and level, it is a very pleasant journey, either in the morning or evening. One night each week the military band performs in the garden; and then a good many of the residents ride or drive out to "eat the air," and hear the music before dinner. Good collections of orchids, palms, and economic plants, are here kept up, and the place forms an agreeable promenade morning and evening. In addition to the plants, a small collection of animals and birds, for the most part natives of the Archipelago, may be seen here. The island itself is tolerably flat, the elevated portions being in the form of low hills, or "bukits," the highest, Bukit Timah, being about 400 feet above sea level. Many of the rare plants, formerly found here, have died out since the destruction of the old forest for cultivation. Wild pigs are plentiful; but the tigers do not often repeat the predatory visits of twenty or thirty years ago, when two or three hundred Chinamen were devoured every year. They now very rarely cross the "Old Straits," a channel about half a mile wide, which separates the island from the mainland of Jahore. In the Singapore Times, however, for Feb. 1, 1879, the following paragraph appeared, which shows that the brutes have not quite lost their old-established man-eating desires:-- "Tigers, it would appear, are approaching Singapore town unpleasantly close. On the 29th January a Chinaman was taken away by one on a plantation only about four miles from town; and unpleasant rumours are afloat that some have lately been seen in Sirangoon and Changhie." Much fruit is grown; and there are cocoa-nut, gambir, pepper, indigo and gamboge plantations on a small scale. Vegetable crops here, as in San Francisco, are a monopoly of the thrifty Chinese gardeners. The trade in economic products of the soil of the neighbouring islands is an important one, and, ere long, when cultivation extends more fully into Jahore and Perak, this will be much increased. Some of the planters from Ceylon have already commenced extensive clearing operations in Jahore; and if these succeed, the rest is but a question of time. A few rare and interesting plants yet linger in the jungle, notably, the curious pitcher plant (Nepenthes Rafflesiana), which, singularly enough, is one of the first plants to spring up after a jungle fire. Gleichenia dichotoma clothes some of the hill-sides here as freely as the common brake-fern at home. One of the most singular of native plants, however, is that known as Amorphophallus campanulatus, a relative of the "Lords and Ladies" of our English woods; but this tropical species is of Titanic dimensions, producing a lurid spathe, nearly two feet in circumference, and exhaling the most fetid and repulsive of odours. In rambling about the island one comes across fertile little gardens and groves of mangoes, mangosteen, and other fruit trees, the tenants being generally Chinamen. The bye-streets of the town present some novel sights to a stranger, being tenanted for the most part by Chinese artizans and shopkeepers, the workshops being generally quite open to the street. Blacksmiths, tin-workers, tailors and shoemakers, carpenters, coopers, and basket-makers here ply their callings, and turn out excellent work, although some of the tools used are exceedingly clumsy in appearance from our own point of view. Passing down some of the streets beneath the shade of the piazzas, one meets with general stores of every description, each with its little stall right outside the door close to the path. Here you can purchase almost everything; tools, nails and screws, needles, pencils, cotton, cutlery, ammunition, old Tower muskets--indeed nearly everything in the way of hardware goods, whether Chinese or European. The European goods are such as are especially made for this market, and the prices are surprisingly low. It is curious to observe how some industrial products are universally used here to the exclusion of others. For example, "Bryant & May's" matches, so common at home, are here supplanted by a neatly made "Tändstickor," ten little boxes of which are made up into a packet, which sells for as low as six cents, although ten cents is always asked of strangers. In many Chinese and Kling shops European tinned provisions and patent medicines may be obtained at a very slight advance on home prices, as these petty traders watch the sales of old ships' stores very closely, and are thus enabled to purchase very cheaply. The Chinese compete with all comers in cheap labour; and their innate capacity for imitation enables them to do so very often with advantage in the case of manufactures. If you can only give a Chinese workman a pattern or sample of the goods you require--whether boots, clothing, cabinet work, or jewellery, he may be trusted to imitate the same even to a fault. They are most industrious, having apparently no regular hours of labour, but often toiling from early morning until far into the night for a scanty pittance; but no matter how small their earnings, they generally contrive to save something. Indeed it is difficult to say whether 'tis their industry or their thrift which most deserves commendation. Of course they have their faults as a people, and most serious some of them are; and wherever they are admitted as emigrants, a strong hand is needed to keep them in order. For opening up new trading enterprises or colonies in the East their aid is invaluable, as they are most frugal, and possess a peculiar habit of making the best of circumstances. In Sarawak, and also in the British colony of Labuan, the money derived from the opium and spirit farms form a main feature in the revenue, so that eastern colonies, in favouring Chinese emigration, add to their revenue by their expenditure as well as by their labour. Many, by thrift and frugality, rise to positions of affluence, and then it is curious to see how thoroughly they fall into the ways of the class to which they reach. This makes a Chinese colony so prosperous as a rule; for if a man has money he is sure to spend it either in trade, or in a fine house, garden, servants, horses and carriages, and other luxuries. As a rule they deal with their own class, but they take to European luxuries very kindly. I was asked out to dine several times at the houses of wealthy Chinese whilst in the East, and was at first rather disappointed at the thorough European character of the repast. Clean cloth, knives and forks of course; and every course might have been prepared in Pall Mall, if we except the curries; and it is but natural that the curries of the East are inimitable elsewhere. You get most delicately prepared pastry, and ten to one, roast beef and plum pudding, which are all the world over understood to be our national dishes. A gentleman told me that once when in Paris, just after the war, he was conversing with a friend near the Tuileries, when a wicked-eyed young gamin overhearing his bad French with an English accent, observed, "Ah, M'sieu rost-bif, God-dam," as he rapidly vanished round the corner. Many of the rich merchants speak English well; if not, then Malay is the medium of conversation. And the wherewithal to wash down your food is not forgotten: indeed, many of the rich "babas" give excellent champagne breakfasts, and "Bass" and good Bordeaux are as common as at European meals. However addicted to "samshu" and "shandu,"--the baleful narcotic immortalised by De Quincey,--a Chinaman may be privately, you will find him courteous, and eagerly apprehensive as to the comfort and enjoyment of his guests on all occasions when he entertains Europeans. Sometimes you meet with a surprise at a Chinese dinner--a surprise especially prepared for your benefit. I was present at one where we had small dishes of rice and condiments set before us, with "chop sticks" in lieu of knife and fork. Now a native to the manner born will use his two chop sticks as cleverly as Mr. G. W. Moore handles his bones; and as he leans over his dish you see a constant stream of food running up to his mouth, while with your chop sticks awkwardly held you simply demonstrate what "eating porridge with a knitting pin" really means. Well, dish followed dish, and we began to think the whole thing "awfully slow," when the host arose and requested us to accompany him to the "dining-room." Sure enough we found ourselves in a large and well lit interior. There was a dinner-table laid in European style, the silver and glass irreproachable, and floral decorations rather tastefully arranged graced the board. Of course there was a good deal of laughter as the neat Chinese "boys" handed round the sherry and bitters as we stood in groups; and a few minutes afterwards the gong was beaten for dinner in quite a homely fashion. A jolly old Spanish priest was present, and our long-tailed host did not omit to ask him to say grace, which he solemnly did, first in English, standing the while, and then we were all surprised as the rubicund-cheeked friar rolled out a Chinese prayer interlarded with choice maxims from Confucius, and all in the Hokien dialect of Chinese. The whole thing was much enjoyed. We had soup oxtail and "birds' nest," the latter extremely good, but perhaps rather too sweet for European liking; fish of several kinds, beef and mutton cooked in various ways, also pork cutlets excellently cooked, as indeed only Chinese cooks can prepare them; pastry, cheese, and such fruits for dessert as no money could procure from Covent Garden. Fat juicy mangoes, delicate mangosteen, rambutan, bananas, and other kinds, never eaten in perfection anywhere but in the tropics--the gardens of the sun. A "wyong" or Chinese play had been organised by our host, one portion of his house being fitted up as a private theatre, and to this we adjourned after dinner. The performers were a celebrated troupe just arrived from China, and very clever they were, especially in pantomime. Of course we understood not a word of what was spoken; and yet so expressive were the actions that the plot and motive of the play was perfectly comprehended even in detail. The music of shrieking two-stringed violins, and the rattle of gongs and tom-toms which accompanied them, however, might fairly be added to Mr. Sothern's list of things which "no fellah can understand." The plot was of an undutiful daughter of poor parents who was beloved of a youth of her own age and station. A rich mandarin, however, loves and marries her. Her young lover is the most dutiful of sons, and a good spirit helps him on; while at the same time a bad one causes the mandarin heavy losses by sea and land. The undutiful daughter has her parents driven from her husband's gates, where they had come to beg, while her former lover succours them, and they ultimately die, blessing him. Eventually the mandarin is degraded, and the dutiful youth is elevated to his place for some service he has rendered to one of the emperor's favourite ministers. He then makes a speech, telling how good and clever he has been, and ultimately marries the tiny-footed daughter of the minister who has befriended him. Nor does the play finish until his "poor, but honest parents" and the audience are convinced by ocular proof that a son and heir has been born of the union, a piece of good fortune for which the rich but wicked mandarin before him had hoped in vain. The character of the youth was excellently played throughout by a young Chinese lady from Hong Kong, and I do not remember to have seen a male part acted much better by a female actress anywhere. So that the Lottie Venns and Kate Vaughans of our own stage must look to their laurels, as ere long they may possibly have to compete with the "cheap Chinese labour" of the Eastern mimes. It was late that night as we drove back to our hotel, and such a night as one can see only in the tropics, where the moonlight is bright enough to read by, and streams down like a gloriously brilliant bridal veil over sweet-scented blossoms wet with dew, and the most elegant of palm-trees, over the gorgeous floral treasures of eastern gardens, and over the homes of thousands of dusky brides. The sounds heard during the otherwise still hours of evening or night are peculiar, the clucking sound of a lizard in the tree overhead is quite bird-like, you hear some frog-like croaking in the wet ditch beside the road, the subdued humming of distant tomtoms reaches you from the hut of a Hindoo Syce, and the almost mournful cadences of a Javanese prayer chanted by a party of labourers in a garden-house or field-hut reach you on the cool breeze. Then comes the boom of the "Kayu Kutoh," [1] or wooden gong on which the Malay "mata mata," literally "man with eyes," or watchman, beats the hour at one of the outlying police-stations. Fires are not at all uncommon, and then you are roused out of a sound sleep by a couple of shots from the signal battery, which shake the whole place. As you lean from your window enjoying just the last sweet whiff ere turning in for the night you may, perchance, hear the silence broken by snatches of song familiar to your ears--the songsters being a party of rowdy sailors returning to the ship after a "wet night" on shore. I am sadly afraid that the low grog-shops monopolise much of "Jack's" time and money when ashore, notwithstanding that there is here an excellent "Sailor's Home," furnished with many conveniences, and supplying the comforts of an hotel at a cheap rate. Towards morning the chattering of sparrows and the shouting of rival roosters are among the most familiar of sounds which remind one of home. The society of Singapore will compare favourably with that of any British Colony, and for genial hospitality its residents cannot well be surpassed. As in India, new comers are expected to call upon the residents first. In my own case I brought letters of introduction to some of the older inhabitants, and I must here acknowledge how handsomely those cheques were honoured by them. One scarcely knows how valuable genial hospitality really is at home, but far away it is pleasant to find how thoroughly English--British, one ought to say--is the welcome extended to strangers. Government House is the Court, of course, and it is needless to say, that all courtesies essential are there extended to both residents and others. Of course, in a community formed of many nationalities, and of people whose trade and other interests are liable to clash with those of their neighbours, there are sure to be little murmurings and bickerings, together with petty jealousies of various kinds. This is so, more or less, everywhere, but in the Colonies there are few, if any, old titled families to balance the commercial interest. One may see some bonny English faces in the carriages which are here driven around the Esplanade just as along the "Lady's Mile" at home; or one evening a week are gathered around the band-stand at the gardens. The climate, however, is not well suited to the development of the rosy cheeks we see at home; the peach-like bloom too soon gives place to the soft purity of the lily, and it often becomes necessary for the wife and children to return to a cooler climate, in order to regain somewhat of the health and strength of which a lovely but debilitating climate has robbed them for a time. Here, as in India, this is a serious drawback to many residents. Here, too, there are no hill stations sufficiently near, or, as yet, adapted to serve as Sanatoriums. Now that Jahore is being opened up, however, it is to be hoped that a few bungalows may be erected on Gunong Puloi, on the summit of which the air is comparatively cool and bracing, much more so than on Penang Hill, and it may be readily reached from Singapore in two days. The cost of living here, even in proportion to the large salaries received, is far in excess of that at home, and the mode of life itself is different. Here, one must have a large house, and if there is a family, five or six servants at least are needed. The wages paid to these appear small when compared with the cost of English servants, but at least three times as many are required. The master must have his "boy," the mistress her "ayah," then the cook, water-carrier, grooms, gardener, must be provided, to say nothing of nursery attendance. Native provisions are tolerably cheap, but many things essential must be imported from home at an advanced rate. Furniture is dear, and pianos, and many other necessities, to say nothing of luxuries, must also be brought from the old country, and freight, if not commission, has to be added to the cost. The very nature of the currency used adds to other expenses. Many things purchasable at home for a shilling, here cost a dollar, at the least a rupee or two shillings, and the result of all this is that with an annual income of five hundred pounds in England, one must think twice ere a jump is made at what appears a tempting bait, namely, "a thousand a year" in the East. The progress and importance of Singapore, commercially and politically, have never ceased to increase since 1819, when the British flag was first raised on the island by Sir Stamford Baffles. CHAPTER III. VISIT TO JAHORE--GUNONG PULOI. On the way--Gambling--River-travel--In the Forest--Vegetation--A Resting-place--Tropical Fruits--Breed of Dogs--On the summit--Wild Animals--Wild Men--Sale of Women. This mountain lies about twenty-five miles north-west of the native town of Jahore, and is a trifle over 2,000 feet in height. To reach it from Singapore, one must take post-horses or the coach which runs daily to Krangi, a police-station on the margin of the "Old Strait," and thence little steam ferry-boats carry one on to Jahore, from which place the mountain is reached partly in boats viâ the Scudai river, and partly on foot through the forest. I had agreed to visit the Puloi mountain in company with the government botanist, and leaving Singapore early, we reached Jahore about 3 P.M., after several little stoppages on the way. The ride from Singapore to Krangi was a very pleasant one to me, fresh as I was from the "old country." The roads are remarkably smooth, and of a bright red colour, their margins fringed with orchards of tropical fruits or rows of betel-nut palms. Here and there are patches of sugar-cane, tapioca, or indigo, little plots of great-leaved bananas, while at intervals one catches passing glimpses of neat white bungalows nestling amid tall cocoa-nut groves. Arriving at Krangi, hot and dusty, we rested some time in a clean bungalow or rest-house, built for the convenience of travellers by the Government. The native police were very attentive, and we took our luncheon here and strolled around the station, and saw abundant evidence of the wild pigs, which are said to be very plentiful. While we waited, the Maharajah drove up in a neat little carriage drawn by a pair of ponies. This was just before his visit to England, and we obtained a good view of him. He is a fine manly fellow, with a bushy moustache, and was dressed in white trousers and jacket, with a white sun-hat, and wore a coloured "sarong" around his waist. We informed him of our intended visit to the mountain, and he promised us that Mr. Hole, his secretary, should furnish us with guides and boatmen. We had arranged with a Chinese sampan man to ferry ourselves and baggage over, but just as we were about starting one of the little steam ferry-boats came over, and leaving "Johnnie" to bring on our things and a Chinese "boy" in charge, we crossed in the steamboat. We took up our quarters with Mr. Boultbee, with whom we were to stay the night. Jahore itself we found to be a straggling place built along the margin of the strait, and consisting of the Istana and a mosque, together with a few whitewashed houses roofed with red tiles, and native palm-thatched cottages. The best of the tiled houses are occupied by Chinese shopkeepers, the principal wares being rice, fruit, fish, coopery, boxes, baskets, and miscellaneous stores. The principal industry of the place is the timber trade. Extensive steam saw-mills, fitted with good machinery, are here worked by the Maharajah, a good many natives being employed in the trade, while the timber finds a market in Singapore, where a depôt exists for business purposes. A railway was projected to the forest near Gunong Puloi some years ago, and several miles of wooden tramways were actually laid down, but the work is now suspended. Were such a roadway completed, it would do much to open up a fertile country especially rich in fine timber, rattans, and other jungle produce. The culture of gambier (Uncaria Gambir, Roxb.), pepper and other products now cultivated by the Chinese settlers would also be facilitated. As it is, the timber is cut as near to the streams as is possible, and is then dragged by buffaloes through the jungle and floated down to the town, several logs being lashed together so as to form rafts, on which a man stands to steer it clear of snags and other obstacles. Gambling is one of the curses of this place, and is publicly carried on in some large buildings near the saw-mills. As the Maharajah derives a percentage from the tables, gambling is not likely to be suppressed here, as it has been at Singapore. Mr. Boultbee's house, where we stayed, is a large and comfortable one of wood, and it stands on an eminence at the north-east end of the town. From the verandah a beautiful view of the old strait is obtained, reminding one of Windermere, only that the vegetation is more luxuriant, brightened as it is by a tropic sun. We walked in the garden and forest behind at sunrise, when every flower and leaf was bathed in dew, and were much pleased with the vegetation. The elk's-horn fern (Platycerium biforme) grew on the stems of several of the trees, and we saw it high up in the branches of the forest trees behind the house. Nepenthes ampullaria, and the noblest of all ferns, Dipteris Horsfieldii, were also abundant in the jungle quite close to the sea-beach, and tall gleichenias clambered up the bushes to a height of at least twenty feet. Birds and butterflies were alike plentiful in the jungle, and some of the latter were very gorgeous in colour. After our morning walk we looked over the saw-mills, and then returned with the manager to breakfast. We afterwards visited Mr. Hole at the Istana, and found that he had already obtained guides and boatmen, so that we at once had our baggage transferred to the boats, and prepared to start on our journey. Some delay arose, however, owing to the man having to purchase stores, and so it was after four o'clock before we bade Mr. Hole adieu on the steps of the Istana jetty and got fairly off. All our heavy baggage was stowed in a native boat, manned by four Malays, while we ourselves and our stores occupied a Chinese sampan. Our craft was pulled, or rather pushed, by its owner, a stalwart celestial; and as he had never been up the Scudai river before, we had an old Malay sitting on the prow to act as pilot, the stream being very narrow in places, with numerous snags and shoals. Notwithstanding this precaution, however, we were aground twice, and the boat heeled over in the current rather uncomfortably. "Johnnie" had to plunge out into the mud of this alligator's paradise to push our craft into deep water again. These were trifling discomforts, however, not worth a thought amid much that was novel and interesting. We ate our dinners in the boat just at dusk, and enjoyed the cool breeze which swept over the water as we glided up stream. The silence of the night was unbroken, save by the regular dip of the oars; and as darkness increased, the tiny lamps of the fire-flies became visible here and there among the vegetation on the banks. As we glided onwards their numbers increased, until we came upon them in thousands, evidently attracted by some particular kind of low tree, around which they flashed simultaneously, their scintillating brilliancy being far beyond what I could have imagined to be possible. During my whole sojourn in the East I never saw them again in anything like such numbers. The moon arose about eight o'clock, revealing more distinctly the gradual narrowing of the river, the vegetation of which appeared to be very luxuriant, towering far above our heads. We could recognise the tufted leaves and tall stems of a slender-growing pandan, standing out clear and dark against the sky, and here and there the tall dead trunk of a giant tree added to the weird beauty of a scene, in which the lack of accurate knowledge left much to the imagination. Our solitary Chinese boatman dipped his oars with the same easy swing as at starting; and about nine o'clock he finished a stiff pull of nine or ten miles by running our boat into the little creek at Kanka Kaladi, he having kept ahead of the Malays, who paddled the other boat, all the way. On our arrival, all the Chinese who live here were abed; so we hauled our craft up to a boat-house at the head of the creek, and got all our things into the loft overhead, and having spread our rugs, and lighted our lamp, we turned in for the night. Before we fell asleep some of the people, who had been disturbed by our arrival, came to have a look at us, and did their best to keep us awake by talking most of the night. We awoke the next morning just before sunrise, and soon prepared our breakfast of soup and biscuit. We had a stroll around the village, which was entirely occupied by Chinese settlers. The houses were of wood, thatched with palm-leaves, and most of them were surrounded with fruit-trees and cocoa-nut palms. We tried to hire coolies, to carry some of our luggage on to the next village, Kanka Ah Tong, where we were to rest for the night, starting for the summit to-morrow. Unfortunately, the head man was away at Jahore; and some coolies, who expressed their willingness to accompany us, demanded a sum equivalent to five shillings per day for their services, so we decided to do without them; indeed, the Malays we had with us protested against this extortion on the part of the Chinese settlers, and said they would endeavour to carry all themselves. We pulled out of the creek, and proceeded further up the river, finally landing at a place where there is an excellent road, leading through the forest to Kanka Ah Tong. Here we landed all our things; and our men were fortunate to secure a couple of Javanese woodcutters, who were fishing, and who were willing to carry part of our gear for a fair payment. We rested a little in a hut beside the road, in which were two men suffering from fever, and another, who had dysentery. We gave them medicine, and pushed onwards. Monkeys were very plentiful on the tall trees beside our path; and we saw several grey squirrels, and a few birds, including a curious shrike, and a barbet, which I had never seen before. The trees around us were very tall, and in many cases festooned with rattans, and other climbing-plants. Flowers were not plentiful; and although we made several détours in the forest, nothing of interest was seen. It was very hot in the middle of the day. Our thermometer stood at 93° in the shade; and nearly all the way our path lay in the open, the sun being very hot overhead. After the first few miles we came to several open plots of land, under cultivation, gambier and pepper being the principal crops. We stayed at one place, where the raw gambier, or "terre japonica," was being prepared in a low shed. There were several low brick fire-places, over which shallow iron pans were placed; and in these the leaves and young stems are boiled. The product, when finished, looks like wet red clay, and is packed in coarse bags, and sent to Singapore, where it realises about five dollars per picul of 133 lbs. Gambier is a very exhausting crop, literally ruining the land on which it is grown. The Chinese whom we found here were very much interested and surprised at our visit, and gave us a supply of cocoa-nuts, oranges, and papaw fruit from their garden. The latter fruit are as large as a small Cadiz melon, with delicate red flesh, when perfectly ripe. They are not much esteemed; but I thought these very nice, having a flavour resembling that of apricots. The colourless milk of the young cocoa-nuts, fortified by just a soupçon of brandy, tasted really delicious, after our tramp under a hot sun. These thrifty Chinese had a fine flourishing plantation of bananas, but no ripe fruit; and clumps of yellow sugar-cane here and there attracted the attention of our followers, who helped themselves to the natural "sugar-sticks," without any compunction whatever. Refreshed by a short rest, and a cooling draught, we pushed onwards, and reached Kanka Ah Tong about three o'clock. We sought out the old Chinese headman, and through him obtained the loan of a new house, just erected in the centre of the village, so that we were soon established in quarters, and the "boy" then began to cook our evening meal. We were of course soon surrounded by a crowd of villagers; and a paraffin cooking apparatus, which the "boy" had in working order before the door, interested them very much. I noticed an excellent breed of black and white dogs at this village, in build not unlike a fox-terrier, but larger. These people evidently desired to keep the breed pure; for I noticed that all the dogs in the place were the same. A clear stream ran past the front of our house, and we were glad to get a bath before dinner. In this stream were at least two species of little fish, the largest rarely exceeding three inches in length, being beautifully spotted with dark brown on their sides. We felt deliciously cool after bathing, and ate our dinner comfortably, on seats we extemporised just outside our door. After a smoke, in the cool of the evening, we prepared our sleeping gear, and turned in for the night. We were up at sunrise, and bathed in the little stream, while my friend's servant and our men prepared breakfast. We left some of our less needful gear in charge of the headman, and then shouldering our guns, we set out for the mountain, a good ten mile walk, over bad roads, and the last three or four miles is stiff climbing most of the way. Altogether it took us about six hours to accomplish, as we started at about seven o'clock in the morning, and reached the hut at the top a little after one P.M. The first mile or two the path lies through gambier patches; and at one of the clearings we flushed a couple of fire-back pheasants, but we were too far off to get a shot at them. Their plumage shone resplendently in the morning sunlight, as they rose with the "whir-r-r," so familiar to sportsmen nearer home. A tolerably level jungle path succeeds the gambier patches for two or three miles further, and then the path commences, leading up the mountain-side. Our first stopping place was at some distance up the base of the rise, where a bit of folded paper in a split stick directed us to the "Lady Jervoise Falls;" and, as we stood quietly, the sound of the falling water fell on our ears from the left-hand side of the path. We soon plunged down the slope, and reached them, but were rather disappointed, as all the water visible was a brook rushing down a rocky gully, and falling a distance of five or six feet over into a water-worn basin below. The water was clear and cool, and we took advantage of it to secure a bath in the shade of the tall trees overhead. The rocks were beautifully draped with ferns and mosses; and a small species of anæctochilus grew here and there on the mossy rocks. Its leaves were of a rich velvety-green colour, netted with golden veins. We sat here, and rested awhile, the cool splash of the water sounding pleasantly as it fell into the spreading limpid pool at our feet. Here, for the first time, I made the acquaintance of the jungle leech, a most energetic thing, which neglects no opportunity of taking its sanguinary toll from the passing traveller. Several of them fixed themselves on our legs, the first notice of their unwelcome presence being the oozing of our blood through our white trowsers. Their first bite is rarely felt; and very often, as I afterwards found, it is only by their gorged bodies feeling cold to the skin, that their presence becomes known. The road from the falls to the summit is in places very steep, and the muscles of one's legs feel it ere the end of the journey is reached. Many of those who read of jungle travel at home will be sure to imagine it very pleasant to explore a tropical forest, accompanied by a posse of native guides and carriers--with gun on shoulder, and luxuriant vegetation on all sides, and an occasional shot at a big monkey or a beautiful bird overhead. So of a truth it is, but in common with all other pleasures it has its drawbacks. After three or four hours hard walking, varied by a rest now and then, and a few stumbles, we reached the summit, and we luckily were rewarded by a most beautiful view. The atmosphere was clear, and in all directions a vast billowy sea of jungle stretched below us--foam-like flecks of white cloud being visible here and there on the top of the low coast hills. We found the little hut on the summit rather out of repair, but a little labour in strengthening the principal supports of the roof, and the addition of a little palm-leaf thatch, made it more comfortable. We enjoyed a magnificent sunset, and lit our lamps just at dusk, nor were we loath to make a hearty meal of warm soup, rice and tea, which had been prepared while we looked around our camping ground. After a smoke and a chat we wrapped our rugs around us and were soon asleep on the side benches of sticks covered with freshly-cut palm-leaves. We were awoke during the night by the rain dripping through the roof, but managed to keep ourselves dry by suspending our waterproof sheets overhead. We awoke at daybreak, but could see nothing but a mass of snow-white clouds below us on all sides. After breakfast we started on a collecting tour down the mountain side, and soon struck a deep gully, through which a streamlet washed over the water-worn stones and pebbles. Here we found one or two very interesting aroids (Schismatoglottis), and ferns were abundant, notably two or three species of lindsayas, their bold fronds being of a rich green colour, shot with steel-blue. Dipteris Horsfieldii clothed the rocky declivities of the gorge here and there, and a large-urned variety of Nepenthes ampullaria was strikingly luxuriant, growing along the edges of wet mossy rocks. Tiny plants only three or four inches in height and half buried in wet moss, decayed leaves, and other forest débris, bore eight or ten pitchers four inches in height and three inches in diameter. N. Rafflesiana, an allied species, we saw clambering up the thick undergrowth to a height of twenty or thirty feet, but the pitchers were not larger than ordinarily are produced by the plant when grown in our hothouses at home. A large branching species of gleichenia grows luxuriantly near the top of this mountain, and seems to replace G. dichotoma, which is so common in Singapore and Pulo Penang. Orchids were sparingly represented by a coelogyne, and one or two other genera, but nothing of interest was observable. A form of our own Pteris aquilina grew luxuriantly around the hut where the forest had been cleared. A dracæna, with green undulate foliage, almost grassy in its tenuity, and the variegated Cissus porphyrophyllus were plentiful, and a red-veined echites covered mossy trunks beside the stream. We returned from our collecting about 5 o'clock, tired and wet through--a very common thing indeed in a tropical forest, so that we were glad to strip to the skin and have a bath, followed by a rub dry with coarse towels, and dry clothes. Our dinner of tinned soup and boiled beef was very acceptable, and our cook made a very appetising curry of dried fish and a few chilies collected from bushes which grew in the clearing around our hut, seeds having been sown either designedly or accidentally by former visitors. A cup of tea and a cigar were deliciously soothing after the rough falls and scrambling of the day. We were disappointed with the place as a collecting ground, and resolved to return to the richer forest of the lower slopes near Kanka Ah Tong on the morrow. Our guides gave us an account of this mountain, and assured us that tigers were not uncommon, and that the Chinamen were frequently carried off by them when working in clearings near the forest. Wild pigs, monkeys, and deer, are plentiful. The Argus and fire-back pheasant are found here, and alligators of enormous size are reported as frequenting the rivers further inland. After dinner we made up a large fire outside the hut, dragging all the fallen trunks in the vicinity to it, for we scarcely relished the idea of a "man-eater" lurking in the neighbourhood, who might wish to vary his diet. These burned brightly all through the night, although at times it rained heavily, and served for cooking purposes in the morning. We descended about eight o'clock, staying here and there to collect plants and flowers on the way. We reached the "Falls" about 10 o'clock, and I looked around for plants, while my friend bathed, and the men rested themselves awhile. "Shall you not bathe?" he asked me. I replied, "I'll just wash my face and hands presently, and let that suffice until we reach Ah Tong." We were just about to return to the path when a pretty fern I had not before observed attracted my attention, growing on a bit of jutting rock overhanging the Falls. I borrowed a chopper from one of the men, and clambered up the rocks, but to reach it I had to stride across the stream just where it falls over the boulders. I had secured my prize and was turning to leap back when slip! bump! splash! I went, plants, chopper, and all, into the water-worn basin below. When I regained the surface I was washed down again like a cork by the weight of water pouring down from above, but the next time I struck out for the side and crawled out like a half-drowned rat. My friend and our Malays had a hearty laugh over my misadventure, and I was fortunately not injured in any way. I took off my clothes and wrung them as near dry as possible and then put them on again, and it is astonishing what an excellent substitute wet clothes so treated are when dry ones are not procurable, especially if they can be dipped in sea water and again wrung dry. We walked on rapidly, staying here and there in open places where the vegetation was especially luxuriant to collect such plants as interested us. About 1 o'clock we reached Kanka Ah Tong, and I took the opportunity of at once having another bath--not an accidental one this time--and of getting into dry clothes. I also took a dose of quinine in a glass of brandy-and-water, and felt no ill effects from my accident and long walk in wet clothing. We stayed here for the night, and the next day we returned to Jahore, and crossing the straits reached Singapore about 6 o'clock. In returning down the Scudai river we saw a slender habited pandanus bearing its crimson fruit in clusters among its long glaucus leaves, and in places on the margins of the stream the beautiful red-sheathed areca palm was very beautiful. Although this journey was a singularly unproductive one so far as the discovery of new plants of horticultural or botanical interest were concerned, yet it had taught me much in other ways, and gave me an insight into the habits and customs of the Malays, whose language I had commenced to learn as soon as I landed in Singapore for the first time. It is unfortunate that this Puloi mountain is not more readily accessible, seeing that at its summit the air is deliciously fresh and cool, and beautiful views are obtainable. A good road thither, and a bungalow or two, are all that are needed in order to make this a valuable sanatorium for residents in Singapore, who are worse off in this respect than the Penang people, who have a cool health station, with bungalows, &c., on the "Hill," which is only a pleasant pony-ride from the town. Apart from the Malay and Chinese inhabitants of Jahore, there are tribes of wild men or Jakuns, who are believed to be the descendants of the aboriginal population. These reside in the interior of the country, some of the tribes even construct their rude dwellings in the trees, and wherever land culture is by them adopted it is of the most rude and primitive description. As a rule, their life is nomadic. Dr. Maclay visited these people in 1875, and the following are some of his observations respecting them:-- [2] "These people are thoroughly disinclined to improvement of any kind in their mode of life, intellectually or otherwise, although it is not occasioned by want of opportunity nor from want of brain. "3. That these tribes are gradually becoming extinct not only the Malays, but also they themselves are fully aware. "This process of extinction is due mainly to the following causes:-- "a. The constant advance into the jungle of the Malay and Chinese population displaces the original occupiers of the soil, who retire into greater solitude. "b. Owing to frequent intermarriages between the Malays and the 'utan' women, the latter race is becoming intermixed into the former, and this mixed race is fast increasing. "In spite of the almost foregone conclusion with which I set out upon my journey, and after severely criticising upon my return the observations I made, I cannot doubt the fact of the existence of an aboriginal non-Malayan population. Furthermore, previous experience and intimate knowledge of the Papuan race lead me to the conviction that this aboriginal population is not only not of Malay origin, but probably related to the Papuans. Here and there I came across individuals whom I could not consider otherwise than as retrogrades to the main aboriginal type. In most of these cases the hair, though not absolutely identical with that of the pure Papuan type, resembled in texture and in growth that of the Papua-Malay (mixed race) of the west coast of New Guinea, who are by no means inconsiderable in number. In these individual cases the hair was quite different from the curled hair of the other orang-utans. "My chief reasons for my decision on this point, are deduced from the existence of these retrograde instances from the present to the aboriginal type: the fact that the orang-utans are not easily distinguishable from the Malays inhabiting the interior of Jahore, does not diminish this decision, because these Malays gradually by intermarriages have partly inherited the orang-utan type. This intermarriage has been in practice for centuries, and is likely to have been occasioned by the flight into the interior of those of the Coast-Malays, who preferred retirement in the jungle to embracing the doctrines of Islam at the time of the Mahomedan conquest in these parts. To such causes are mainly attributable the variations in the type, and the diversity in the skull formations which I met with in my journey. In size the "orang-utan" are strikingly diminutive. The men rarely exceed four feet eight inches in height, whilst I came across many instances of women, mothers of several children, whose stature was about four feet two inches. Some allowance in these cases must be made consequent on the early marriages, and the defective nourishment at all times. "Some of the 'orang-utan' whilst preserving their traditional habits and mode of existence, continue to dwell in the neighbourhood of the Malay population, selling to them the best-looking and strongest of their daughters. It is rare for the 'orang-utan' to change to Islamism or to adopt the Malay habits of life. In these cases their aboriginal language has yielded to the Malay and become entirely forgotten as if it had never existed. Such are the conclusions arrived at after wandering in Jahore, which I traversed from the Straits of Malacca to the China Sea. In the study of these people I felt as if I were commencing the perusal of an interesting old work, of whose semi-effaced pages some were missing." [3] CHAPTER IV. RIVER AND FOREST TRAVEL. A Sea-snake--A dreary landing--Native dancing--Orchids at home--Tropical flowers--The jungle leech--A bad dinner--Rough paths--The blow-pipe--Head-hunting--A Murut reception. Setting forth for the first time in a new country, of which but little is generally known, is always exciting work, and as a rule things turn out to be very different to what one had imagined they would be. I had pictured to myself landing in Borneo beneath a hot sun, and at one of the trading stations; but, on the contrary, it was a dark stormy night when I reached its shores amid a perfect deluge of cold rain; the thunder and lightning was more impressive than I ever saw it before or since, and the place where I landed was an obscure little village of scarcely a dozen palm-leaf huts, and up a river nearly twenty miles from the coast. It came about in this way. The Hon. W. H. Treacher, of Labuan, very kindly undertook to introduce me to the Bornean Kadyans and Muruts--the last a head-hunting tribe--who had settlements near the head of the Lawas and Meropok rivers a little to the northward of the capital. We crossed in a small open boat pulled by eight Brunei men with paddles, which is here the usual and best way of making short sea or river journeys. We started from the fishmarket pier, Labuan, about 9 P.M. on September 7th, and soon after turned into our rugs beneath the awning and slept until morning. We awoke about daybreak, and found ourselves some miles distant from the mouth of the river; but the heavy swell we had had all night had now subsided, and the men were making headway fast. About 7.30 they stopped pulling suddenly, and pointed to a large sea-snake lying full length on the surface of the water in the sun. It was about eight feet in length, and of a blue-black colour, barred with rich golden-yellow, the belly being dull white. Mr. Treacher fired at it with a shot-gun, striking it about the centre of its body; and we could see quite plainly where the shot had ripped the skin. As it lay quite motionless after the shot for several seconds, we imagined it to be dead, but on the men paddling the boat towards it it dived quite suddenly; and as the water was clear and still, we could distinguish it at a great depth below the surface. A week or two before, during my voyage from Singapore to Labuan, we had noticed a good many of these snakes on the surface of the sea, but none so large as the one seen here. The natives say it is a very dangerous kind, and some strange tales are told of their hiding themselves in boats and huts near the shore. About ten o'clock we entered the mouth of the Lawas, the well-wooded banks of which formed a beautiful foreground to the picturesque mountains behind, which rise higher and higher right away into the interior. We soon reached the first cluster of huts on the right bank, and it is here that one of the Sultan's relatives, Pangeran Bazar, resides. His house is built on nebong piles over the water, from which you climb up a rude ladder on to a spacious platform, on which are half-a-dozen or more brass swivel guns of native manufacture. This platform is roofed over, and an immense wooden drum hangs over the entrance. This is formed of a hollow tree trunk, over one end of which a deer or goat skin is stretched lightly by means of a rattan ring and wooden wedges. It is beaten in the evening after the old Pangeran has read from the Koran, and sometimes on the arrival of strangers. Beyond the platform is a large public hall, wherein strangers may rest, and where the natives meet to hear the Koran read, or to talk. The Pangeran's private residence is behind, and differs but little from the other half-dozen palm-leaf houses around it, being merely a superior sort of shed, with mats in place of doors. Duties to the amount of ten per cent. are collected from the natives who bring gutta, rice, or other produce down the river; but by many this tax is evaded, as they drop down the river on a dark night in a prahu, and creep out along the coast, lying up some creek until a favourable breeze enables them to hoist sail for Labuan. I have stayed several times at this place, and always found this river chief obliging and hospitable, but a chronic deafness on his part makes a conversation with him anything but easy. He read from the Koran most evenings when I was there, the choruses or responses being chanted--I ought to say yelled--by five or six wicked young Malay boys, who amused themselves by laughing and talking, except just when their vocal powers were needed. Two or three hundred yards further up the river is the residence of Pangeran Tanga, and here we went ashore to eat our breakfast of cold fowl and rice, eggs and fruit, followed by coffee and a weed. We bought a dozen new-laid eggs here, also some freshly-plucked bananas, and a splendid durian fruit, nearly as large as a child's head. We noticed a half-finished prahu, or native boat, under one of the sheds, the timbers of which were well modelled, being fastened together with stout wooden pegs. After our men had cooked their rice and fish, we again started up the river for Meringit, a Kadyan settlement at the head of the Meropok branch; but owing to the strong current coming down, we did not reach the place until after dark, and, as before remarked, in a drenching thunder-storm. It was so dark that our men could not find the proper landing-place, and having ourselves just left a fairly lighted boat, we could not see a yard ahead in the blinding rain, and so we were soon drenched as we floundered along up to our knees in the soft mud of the river bank. At last two boys came down from the houses in answer to the shouts of our boatmen, and under their guidance we reached dry quarters after a few stumbles over logs and through the long grass. Our first care was to throw off our wet things and get on dry ones, after a rub with a dry towel, and we then ate our dinner, surrounded by most of the swarthy-skinned villagers, who flocked in to look at us. Afterwards it cleared up a bit, and hearing music in a neighbouring house, we adjourned thereto, and found a few of the young men and women enjoying themselves. Their instruments consisted of a native-made violin on a European model, a curious kind of native banjo made of a single joint of a large bamboo, a triangle, or its music rather, being represented by two or three steel hatchet heads, which were laid across laths on the floor, and beaten in time with a bit of iron. The music so produced was of a rather melancholy description, and one or two of the girls and boys danced a little, a mat being spread for the purpose; but their dancing is merely shuffling about in a more or less slow and stately manner, a singular effect being produced by the graceful way in which the arms are waved about in all directions. This was particularly noticeable in the case of one of the performers, who waved a handkerchief about during the dance, changing it from one hand to the other, until eventually it vanished from sight altogether; still the arms waved, and the fingers, in their ever slow changing movement, resembled tentaculæ groping for their prey as they were slowly waved through the air in every possible direction, presumably in quest of the lost article, the ultimate recovery of which terminated the dance. The only light in the apartment was the lurid flickering of a dammar torch, and its reflections on the faces and slightly-draped forms of the performers and lookers-on produced a weird effect, which was intensified by the silence of all present. The next day "Bongsur," a well-known bird-hunter of the district, and a party of natives, undertook to guide us to the forest we wished to explore, and we set off up one of the largest creeks in a canoe, followed by two or three others containing our men and guides. After paddling about a mile we landed, and after walking through several clearings in the hot sun, the primæval forest was at length reached, where it was much cooler and more pleasant, the sun's rays being screened from us by the masses of leaves, epiphytes, and flowers overhead. After mountain climbing, and the wonders of the sea, perhaps nothing suggests one's own littleness more forcibly than a walk through the old forests which exist in tropical lowlands. There is a comparative dearth of undergrowth,--but a hundred feet or more overhead the birds, insects, and flowers enjoy the bright light and warmth denied to all below. The monkeys and birds too find their favourite fruits aloft, and fling the husks below at your feet. Nothing can possibly be of more interest to lovers of exotic plants generally, than to be able to form some idea of their native homes, so far as description can possibly supply the place of travel. The earth's surface is like the sea, inasmuch as it is pretty nearly the same all the world over, but in countries where the mean temperature is thirty or forty degrees higher than in England, the clothing of the earth, so far as represented by vegetation, is of a luxuriance we can scarcely imagine, and the variety caused by the addition of such distinct types as tall palms, bananas, grasses, or bamboos and tree ferns to the more ordinary kinds of tree beauty, and the further clothing of these with epiphytes and parasites of the most singular or beautiful description, makes up a scene of immense interest. Epiphytal orchids are essentially heat-lovers--like palms they are children of the sun. One may often travel a long way in the islands where these plants are most abundant without catching a glimpse of them; and this is especially true of Phalænopsis grandiflora, which is of all orchids perhaps the least obtrusive in its native habitats. This trait is, however, the unobtrusiveness of high birth, they do not care to touch the ground, but rather prefer a sphere of their own high up in the trees overhead. The plants have a charming freedom of aspect, as thus seen naturally high up in mid-air, screened from the sun by a leafy canopy, deluged with rains for half the year or more at least, and fanned by the cool sea-breezes or monsoons, which doubtless exercise some potent influence on their health--an influence which we can but rarely apply to them artificially, and the greatly modified conditions under which we must perforce cultivate them may not render this one so desirable as it sometimes appears to be abroad. In the lowland forests near the equator a peculiar phase of vegetation is not unfrequently seen. Trees one hundred feet to two hundred feet in height tower upwards on all sides; and one walks in the shade--diffused light is perhaps the more correct expression--the tree trunks being the pillars of Nature's cathedral, and the leafy branches high up above represent the roof. All the vegetation you see around you on earth, rocks or fallen trunks, is represented by a few ferns, lindsayas, with bright steel-blue fronds a yard high, broad-leaved aroids, or ginger-worts; but epiphytes of all kinds seem totally absent: and the truth is, that, like lovable "Tom Bowling," of Dibdin's minstrelsy, they, too, have "gone aloft." Above you is a world of light and air and sunshine which birds, insects, and flowers alike enjoy. You feel very small and helpless as you try to catch a glimpse of the plants and flowers so high above you, and almost envy the long-armed red monkeys that swing themselves so easily from bough to bough. The monkey, however, has a rival in the human natives of these forest wilds, and it would be extremely puzzling to find a tree so thick, or tall, or otherwise so difficult to climb, that the lithe and dusky native would fail to reach its summit. The chances are that he will literally walk up a slender tree in the neighbourhood with the aid of hands and feet, and then find a route to the one you wish him to explore by way of the interlaced branches so high above you. If any sufficiently stout lianas are dangling near, he ascends hand-over-hand in a way that would delight the most accomplished gymnast; and if the tree so stood that the ascent could only be accomplished by the direct way of its own gigantic trunk, then the chances are that a stair of bamboo pegs would enable the ingenious savage to effect his object of scouring the branches, and sending the epiphytes in showers to your feet. Nor does he neglect to glean such other jungle produce as comes in his way, such as gutta or indiarubber, camphor, dammar, or forest fruits for food or medicine. This is in the forest primæval, but near clearings, or on the skirts of the forest near rivers, which let in the light and air, the phalænopsis and other epiphytes are less ambitious, and they may then be found in positions but little above the more plebeian terrestrial kinds of vegetation. This is also the case when, as sometimes happens, they are found on the trees which fringe little islands; and then not only do the plants receive a good deal of sunshine as it streams through the leafy twigs of the branches to which they cling, but it is also reflected back again from the glistening sea. The intense light in which they thus exist, added to the fervent heat and the deluge of rain which falls during six or seven months of the year, accounts for the enormous leaf and root growth made by these plants in their native habitats. The flowering of the plants is not so extraordinary, indeed rather disappointing, after the results which may be seen in English gardens. It is not so much the paucity of flowers produced, however, as their early destruction caused by the "unbidden guests" the orchids are made to entertain. High up overhead the most lovely orchids hold their court in the sunshine: here they are really "at home" to their winged visitors. Now and then, however, you come across a newly-fallen tree--a very monarch of the woods--which has succumbed to old age and rude weather at last, and has sunk to the earth from which it sprang a seedling generations ago; its branches laden with everything inanimate, which had made a home in its branches. Some of these ruined trunks are perfect gardens of beauty, wreathed with graceful climbing plants, and gay with flowers and foliage. The fall of a large tree, and its smaller dependents, lets in the sun, and so the epiphytes do not suffer much for a time; and one may thus observe them in all their beauty. Here, right in the collar of the tree, is a plant of the grammatophyllum orchid, big enough to fill a Pickford's van, and just now opening its golden-brown spotted flowers on stout spikes two yards long. There, on that topmost branch, is a mass of the moth orchid, or phalænopsis, bearing a hundred snowy flowers at least; and in such healthy vigour is it, that lovers of orchids at home--supposing it could be flashed direct to "Stevens's" in its present state--would outbid each other for such a glorious prize, until the hammer would fall at a price near on a hundred guineas, as it has done before for exceptional specimens of these lovely flowers. There, gleaming in the sunlight, like a scarlet jewel, beneath those great leathery aroid leaves, is a cluster of tubular æschynanthus flowers; and here is another wee orchid, a tiny pink-blossomed cirrhopetalum, whose flowers and leaves scarcely rise above the bright carpet of velvety moss among which it grows. But what is that attractive gleam of gold and green swaying to and fro in the sunshine? Ah! that is a beauty of another kind! And a native, to whom it is pointed out, ejaculates, "Chalaka! ular Tuan!"--a wicked snake, sir; and we are content to move on, and leave him alone in his glory. We tramp on for an hour longer, without even the glimpse of a flower being visible, except here and there a few fragments on the ground, the remnant spolia of the flower world which exists on the roof of this grand cathedral of trees. Half an hour further, and the increasing numbers of ferns and selaginella mosses suggest the presence of water in the neighbourhood, while the patches of graceful seedling calami or rattan palms increase at every step, the stones and trunks become moss-covered, and then at last the "sound of many waters" breaks on our ears with a cool and welcome noise, and a few minutes later we have "struck" the stream, as it rushes and sparkles amongst mossy and water-worn boulders down an open and sunny ravine. Some of the larger rocks are covered with a palm-like fern (Polypodium bifurcatum); and filmy ferns, of the most delicate form and texture, abound on the dripping stones. As we sit down on the rocks, a small flock of gigantic hornbills "saw the air" with their great wings far above us, making a noise almost like a locomotive engine in their flight. Butterflies come with wobbling motion down the sunny clearing, formed by the shallow stream; and, as we are intent on the cold fowl and coffee, which forms our breakfast, the sanguinary stains on our white trousers prove that the wily jungle-leech has not been unmindful of his morning meal. How this little slimy monster loves to gorge himself with gore! The wonder, however, is how they exist when men are absent from the jungle they infest, as often happens. I suspect that human blood forms simply an accidental part of their supply. I know they exact all they can from the water buffaloes; and perhaps even the astute monkey is made to pay toll by these blood-suckers as often as may be. I have often watched them, when aroused by footsteps, as attached to a stick, or stone, or leaf, they wave their bodies about, or walk towards you with a caterpillar-like motion, in quest of happier hunting-grounds. A squeeze of wet tobacco juice is the best plan of dislodging them from your skin; for if pulled off, however deftly it be done, there is a chance of a bit of their sucker apparatus remaining in the wound, which will often cause it to become inflamed, and to fester in a troublesome manner. We suffered a good deal from mosquitoes during the night; indeed sleep was nearly impossible, and in very shaded parts of the forest to-day the little pests fixed on our hands and faces with a persistency that was very annoying. We saw very few birds. A gorgeously attired bee-eater was secured by Mr. Treacher as we paddled up the creek; and "Bongsur," who used an old Tower musket as a fowling-piece, secured a tiny spotted owl and one or two other small birds common to this district. We distinctly heard the whoops and yells of the Muruts, who were out pig-hunting, as we came along, but did not fall in with them. Just as we crossed the stream one of the men picked up a fruit of one of the several varieties of durian, which are here indigenous. It was about the size of a cricket-ball, and only contained two of its chestnut-like, pulp-covered seeds. The seeds were very large in proportion to the quantity of pulp, but the flavour was very delicious. We had a long walk back to the creek where we had left our canoes, and reached the village about three o'clock, just before the commencement of a heavy shower. As it cleared up a little about five o'clock we took our guns and had a stroll across the padi fields behind the houses, returning to dinner about sunset. I shall not soon forget that dinner. Mr. Treacher had brought his Chinese "boy" who had cooked the previous day. My "boy" was a Madras Telinga to whom, of course, the lard or pork fat which the Chinese use in cooking is an abomination, so that my ingenious fellow, as it was his turn to prepare dinner, made us a fowl curry, using rancid cocoa-nut lamp oil in which to cook the fowl. We were rather hungry, and tried to get the stuff down, but had to give it up as a bad job. The nasty taste was most persistent, however; and for several days coffee, biscuit, rice, and even fresh fruit, seemed to have somewhat of the offensive cocoa-nut oil flavour about it. I remonstrated with my "boy" about the matter, with the usual result. "Yes, sah, that China boy bad man, sah; he tell me oil very good for curry, sah!" I have no doubt, but that the "China boy" enjoyed the joke with "a smile that was childlike and bland," and doubtless he related the story to his pretty Malay wife on his return, with many "Ah yahs" and inward chuckling. We made shift with biscuit and coffee, and a smoke destroyed the bad taste for the time being. This was the evening preceding the commencement of Ramadan, the "fast month" observed by all Mahomedans, and there was a great burning of gunpowder in the village. Muskets and small cannon were being discharged all over the place in honour of the event. Salutes of this kind, and the festive firing of shot-guns, however harmless it may seem in print, is in reality sometimes a little alarming. The powder used in charging may possibly be bad in quality; but as a great noise is thought to be the thing, any defect in its quality is pretty well made up for by the quantity used. I am not a very nervous person, but I once or twice felt just a little anxious as the natives amused themselves by firing a charge of five or six inches of powder from a seven-and-sixpenny German gun. I once saw some Sulus firing a salute from some old dismounted brass guns which were lashed on the floor of the wharf at Sandakan. They coolly sat down beside the ordnance, waved a bit of rope-yarn until the smouldering fire at one end brightened up into a glowing spark, and then plunged it into the touch-hole; nor did they seem in the least disconcerted as the guns sprang a yard into the air dragging up the nebong planks with them, the whole returning with a crash by reason of their elasticity. In the morning, after breakfast, Mr. Treacher returned down the river, but could not cross to Labuan until next day, as a heavy sea was running with much wind and rain, so he had to put back to Pulo Sirra until morning. After his departure I had a consultation with "Bongsur" about the country, and eventually decided to shift my quarters from his father's house to that of his brother, from which the forests and hills of the district could be more readily reached. A party of natives and one or two Muruts who had come to the Kadyan's village to trade, soon got all my traps stowed into the canoes, and half an hour's pull brought us to the clearing in which my future head-quarters were situated. I found here half-a-dozen palm-leaf houses built on piles six feet high, a notched tree trunk serving as a ladder by which to enter. The largest house was forty or fifty yards long by eighteen or twenty feet wide, and being nearly new, it was clean and in good condition. It was occupied by "Bongsur's" brother, a lithe and intelligent young fellow named "Moumein," and three or four other families. Within, it was simply one large room open to the roof, and divided in half by the central path, communicating with doors at either end. On the right were the hearths for cooking, water-jars, bamboos, baskets, and other simple tools or utensils, the left-hand side being covered with the sleeping-mats of the separate families. Two or three mosquito nets hung over the mats, and at the head of each hung the parong, spear, musket, or other arms of the men, other spears, shields, blowpipes, &c., being laid across the timbers overhead. The floor was of open lattice-work, or rather parallel nebong laths an inch apart, so that perfect ventilation is obtained; and these houses are always cool. The owner was not at home, but his wife brought a board and desired "Bongsur" to partition off one of the corner compartments for me, which was soon done; and getting up the boxes, hammock-sleeping gear, &c., the place soon assumed a more comfortable appearance. As it was a beautiful clear afternoon I left my "boy" to prepare dinner, and started off to the forest with half-a-dozen of the native boys who had followed from the village. I shot a pretty scarlet-breasted trogan with beautifully pencilled wings, in a large fig tree near the houses. We had a rather rough walk through long grass, in which ugly concealed logs were plentiful; and the only bridges across the streams were formed of a single tree-trunk, often a very slender one not perfectly straight, so that when a particular part of it was reached in one's journey across, it had a treacherous knack of turning round and landing one in muddy water up to the neck. The natives are used to such slender makeshifts for bridges, and, being barefoot, are as sure-footed as goats. We followed one little stream for about two miles, and reached a rocky hill about five hundred feet high, where rhododendrons (R. javanicum) were flowering freely. Hoyas and various orchids were in bloom on the lowest trees; and it was on bare tree-trunks on this hill that I saw the Veitchian pitcher-plant (Nepenthes Veitchii) wild for the first time. It has a singular habit of clasping the trunks on which it is epiphytal with its leaves, and many which bear pitchers have the blade of the leaf much reduced. Four other pitcher-plants grew on this hill, namely, N. gracilis, N. hirsuta, N. Rafflesiana, and the large-urned variety of the last named, known as "glaberrima." A dendrobium bearing clusters of milk-white flowers was common, as also were bolbophyllums and several greenish-flowered coelogynes. The ground in some places was matted with a very pretty terrestrial orchid (Bromheadia Finlaysoniana) which has leafy stems two to three feet in height, terminated by a zig-zag flattened spike of white-petalled flowers as large as those of the "Spotted Indian Crocus" (Pleione maculata), and having a blotch of lemon-yellow on the lip and some bright amethystine veins or streaks. We loaded the men with roots and specimens, and then returned to the houses just before nightfall. It was during the wet season, and after dark each evening the mosquitoes were most ravenous. As a remedy for this annoyance the women lighted fires beneath the house, on which cocoa-nut husks were placed and made to smoulder gradually. This certainly kept the little pests at bay, but the smoke brought tears to one's eyes, and was almost as bad to bear as the mosquito bites. The wild forest fruits were now plentiful in this district, and, as a natural consequence, birds and monkeys were abundant also, for they migrate to different places as the fruits begin to ripen. The bird-hunters were busy, and rarely a day passed but I was gladdened with the sight of some bird or other animal that was novel to me. Argus, Bulwer, and Fireback pheasants and other large ground birds were caught in snares or springes, while hornbills, owls, eagles, or hawks, and large birds generally were killed with shot, or very often small gravel discharged from an old Tower musket. The smallest birds, especially the brilliant little sweets or sunbirds, were killed with small arrows from the blow-pipe or "sumpitan," in the use of which some of the Muruts and Kadyans are especially expert. Even large game was formerly obtained in this way, poisoned arrows being used, in which case the harmless-looking blow-pipe becomes one of the most subtle and deadly of weapons. The slightest puncture with one of these poisoned darts is as certain to terminate fatally as is the bite of the cobra; and this, added to the possibility of the arrow being propelled on its journey with lightning-like speed, without the least sound being heard, will give an idea of its deadly power in the skilful hands of savages, to whose ambition the death of an enemy and the possession of his bleached skull for the decoration of their dwellings on feast days, was the all-important feature of their social existence. I have seen a Murut strike fish after fish with unerring certainty with arrows from a sumpitan, even at more than a foot below the surface of the stream; a much more difficult thing to do than one might suppose, since allowance has to be made for the deviation from a right line which the arrow takes on touching the water. The springes in which pheasants are caught are set in artificial fences half a mile or more in length, and are simply nooses of rattan, although rarely thin brass wire is used. A bent sapling is attached to the noose in such a manner that when the bird runs against a twig in passing through the opening in the fence it becomes disengaged, and flying upwards, draws the noose tightly around the creature's neck. A device similar in principle, but much more dangerous, is used by the Muruts for capturing the wild pigs. In this case a stout spear of bamboo is made to pass through guiding loops of rattan attached to trees or stakes, so that by the aid of a stout sapling drawn back to its fullest tension it can be hurled right through the body of any passing animal, which unconsciously disengages the apparatus by pressing against or treading on a branch across its track. These pig-sticking contrivances are very dangerous to strangers, and even the Muruts themselves are sometimes injured by them. One of the Lawas Muruts showed me where the bamboo spear belonging to one of these pig or deer-traps had been driven right through his leg near the knee. His bronzed features underwent the most extraordinary and suggestive of contortions as he explained how it had taken the strength of five or six men to hold him against a tree while others tugged at the bamboo shaft until they succeeded in withdrawing it from the injured limb. In some districts these pig-traps are very numerous, and one has to be continually on the look-out for them. I visited the Lawas district several times, and had good opportunities of seeing the Muruts, and noting many of their peculiarities. Their houses are similar to those of the Dusun, but instead of living in separate houses, one enormous house is built sufficiently large to accommodate from twenty to fifty families. These houses vary from thirty to one hundred yards in length, and, like those of the Kadyans, are built on piles. As the different tribes are continually at variance with each other, and knowing each other's affection for crania, they congregate in one large dwelling so as to be better prepared for resistance in case of a sudden attack. These people, and the Kayans who live in the vicinity of the Baram river, and one or two other tribes of the aboriginal Borneans, still continue the practice of head-hunting, although the custom is now fast dying out here, as it has in the case of the Dyaks of Sarawak, and other places further south. Only a few years back a youth was not allowed to marry until he had taken the head of an enemy, and if any ill-luck or death occurred in the tribe these head-hunting raids were indulged in at once to appease the malignant spirits which were believed to have been the cause; or if a chief's favourite wife or child died, he at once took to head-hunting in a bloodthirsty spirit of revenge. The desire to shed blood seems inherent in all savage natures, and is adhered to tenaciously even after civilisation has reached them, and so it happens that human heads or skulls are considered the most valuable property of these wild Borneans, just as the Sioux and other Indians of North America still attach a peculiar value to the scalp locks of their foes. Even although head-hunting is gradually becoming a thing of the past in Borneo, still so highly are the old skulls valued even by the now peaceable tribes who have not taken a head for years, that they can rarely be induced to part with them, no matter how much may be offered in exchange. In several Murut houses I visited near the Lawas large baskets full of human crania were preserved as trophies of the prowess of the tribe. It is very rare that anything like general open fighting now takes place between the native tribes, as was formerly the case, when a party of fighting men would, after marching at night only through the forests for days together, steal up to the house of their foes just before daylight and endeavour to set fire to it, after which the place was surrounded and the men killed as they attempted to escape, the women and children being made prisoners and carried off as additions to the wealth of the victors. Sometimes, however, the besieged were too wary for their foes, and either boldly rushed out and drove them off with loss, or formed ambuscades, into which they unwittingly fell and were annihilated, or perhaps a few would break through and escape to tell the tale. In this way a good many heads and slaves were obtained, but at present the additions to the baskets are more rare, and principally obtained by stealthy murders rather than in warfare. The Muruts and other aboriginals are great believers in omens, and whether on head-hunting or pig-killing expeditions they pay great regard to the cries of birds and animals; and if they meet an alligator or a snake, they at once return and wait for a more propitious season. In travelling with these natives as guides, their careful attention to omens becomes exceedingly trying to one's temper, as they will stop immediately if the omens seen or heard be not good ones, and if anything more than ordinary duties are required of them it is astonishing how soon a bad omen will put an end to all further progress for the day. One place where I stayed for several weeks was within half a mile of a large Murut house, and their gongs could be heard very plainly sometimes all night when they were feasting and drinking a peculiar spirit, which is made of rice and tampoe fruit mixed with water and strained off for use after fermentation. These feasts seemed to be held on the occasion of any good fortune befalling the tribe, such as success in hunting pigs or deer. One night they were gong-beating and shouting louder than usual. I asked the native in whose house I slept the reason of this, and he told me that they had been out head-hunting for a fortnight, but had failed to pounce upon any Murut of another tribe; so to end the suspense they had seized one of their own slaves, who had in some way offended them, and had made a scapegoat of him. I visited this house some days afterwards, and smoked a "roko" with the "Orang Capella," or chief, while three of his lusty followers kept up an incessant din on five gongs which were suspended in the centre of the public apartment. I asked to see his collection of heads, and after a good deal of talking, a few dry old examples were brought; but after we left I was told that they had many more, including the one so recently taken, but that they were afraid to let the fact be known. This tribe had good reasons for secrecy in the matter, since one man had been hung at Labuan for a head-hunting murder a year or two previous to my visit, and another would have suffered the same fate had he not died in jail. They had actually crossed over to the English colony to look out for heads, and ascending a little river on the western side, had shot a man who was coming down in a canoe. The shot, an old nail, struck the shaft of the paddle, and passing through, entered the man's body, after which they made off, but were captured by the Government and tried for the murder. This identical paddle was one of the first things I saw when I paid my respects to His Excellency the Governor of Labuan, and when the story was narrated to me it did not sound very cheering, seeing that I expected to live among these tribes for some months at least. However, I could never hear of a white man being killed, except by the pirates from Tawi Tawi and Sulu, with one exception, which was of a man who is supposed to have been poisoned by his native mistress. St. John mentions one tribe, however, who are peculiarly addicted to poisoning anyone who may be disliked by them. The nature of the poison used is not exactly known, but it is very generally supposed to be a peculiarly irritating fibre or spiculæ derived from some species of bamboo, the effect of which is to cause a chronic state of sickness and depression, followed by death. Whatever it may be, it is a mechanical rather than a chemical irritant. When one travels in such a lovely island, however, as Borneo undoubtedly is, it is extremely difficult to believe half the tales told of the native tribes, and altogether the proportionate number of robberies and murders is not more than takes place in the most enlightened centre of civilisation in the world. The total population of the island is supposed to be from 3,000,000 to 4,000,000, and when we consider that all these unchristianised natives (excepting those in Sarawak and the Dutch territory) live together with no law--nothing in fact but their own sense of right and wrong, and public opinion to keep them in order--the wonder is that, even according to our own standard, crime is so seldom heard of. The Kadyans are a tribe of peaceable and well-disposed aboriginals, who, living along the coast near to the capital, have mixed a good deal with the Malays and speak their language. It is not uncommon, however, to find the older and more intelligent men of this tribe well acquainted with several dialects of the interior, such as Murut, Dusun, and the Brunei dialect, used by the common natives of the capital. They are mostly Mahomedans, and so are more respected by their Malay rulers than are other of the aboriginals. They form thrifty little colonies on most of the rivers near Brunei, and many have settled in Labuan, where they cultivate their rice fields, and occasionally bring fruit or fish to the markets. They are for the most part a clean and healthy race, and form a great contrast with their neighbours who live in a more irregular manner, and are often troubled with skin diseases, this being in a measure owing to the want of cleanliness and of a regular diet. There cannot be any doubt but that Islam is a great blessing to many Eastern races, especially so far as cleanliness and temperance are concerned. The Kadyans are very quick in selecting rich bits of forest and in raising fine crops of rice, which forms the main portion of their food. Rice and fish from the river or sea, fruits from their gardens or the forest, and a few simple vegetables are all the food they require. They also collect gutta and caoutchouc, camphor and rattans, from the forest, and the sale of these in Labuan, or to the Chinese traders who visit the coast, enables them to obtain cloth, muskets and ammunition, tobacco, and any other little necessaries or luxuries of Chinese or European manufacture which they may require. Although less active than the Muruts, yet there are some fine men among them, and their women, as a class, are perhaps the most refined and intelligent of all the aboriginals, some, when young, being singularly attractive. The boys are also bright fellows, with a keener sense of humour than is common in other tribes. They live a free and easy life, contented and happy, and I could not help contrasting the peace and plenty enjoyed by these people with the squalor and misery in which the poor of civilised lands are often plunged. Here, in these sunny wilds, an all-bounteous Nature, with a minimum of labour, supplies their every want, and it would be difficult to find another country where man is more truly the "monarch of all he surveys"--more truly independent on his fellow-man than here in Borneo. Although these people are nominally Mahomedans, still their women enjoy the greatest freedom and are never secluded, as is the custom of the Malays of the coast, indeed, many Kadyan houses consist of one very large room only, there being no private apartment of any kind. This is a rather singular trait of these people, since even the Muruts and the Dusan have one side of their houses partitioned off so as to allow of a separate private room for each family, the other half being open from end to end and free to guests or strangers. The Kadyans take but one wife, and are apparently good husbands and affectionate parents; large families, however, are exceptional. This question of increase of population in the island is one I could not profess to explain. Here is a rich and fertile island larger than Great Britain and Ireland, with an entire population scarcely exceeding that of London. In the old times inter-tribal warfare may have operated as a check, and even now whole villages are sometimes carried off by epidemics, such as cholera or small-pox, yet when we consider that there are practically none of the checks on marriage itself as with us, and the readiness with which food is obtainable in plenty, the easy and natural way, indeed, in which these people live, it is a puzzle that they seem scarcely able to hold their own. In the case of the North American Indians or the Maories of New Zealand, there is the competition of the white races, but here they are not crowded out by a stronger type, nevertheless, the population is supposed to be less than was formerly the case. If a Kadyan youth wishes to marry, he has only to select a site for his house, and clear the ground around it for a garden. He may take an unoccupied plot anywhere, and there is no ground-rent to pay, it is freehold so soon as he has in a manner "staked his claim," by cutting down the brush and burning the trees, in which the other "lads of the village" will assist him. The ground is cleared towards the end of the dry season, and with the commencement of the first rains a few seeds of Indian corn, cucumbers, betel pepper, &c., are sown, and yams, kaladi, sweet potatoes, together with cocoa-nuts, and banana suckers from his father's or a friend's garden, are planted. Then timbers, rattans, and nipa leaves for thatch are obtained, and, with the assistance of his friends, a good roomy house will spring up, if not quite mushroom-like in a night, at the least in a week or ten days. A dollar or two, or the jungle produce he could collect in less than a month, will enable him to obtain the few articles of furniture, cooking utensils, &c., which he requires, together with a new "sarong" or two for himself and his bride. And she, the dusky beauty, will have made a few neatly worked palm-leaf sleeping mats and other needful trifles, and doubtless looks forward to her wedding with as much pleasure as her fairer sister of the West. The actual ceremony of marriage is here very simple. A payment has to be made by the bridegroom to his father-in-law, and this varies in proportion to the charms or other good marketable qualities of the girl--an ordinary girl being worth as much as a good buffalo, or say, £4; as much as £20, however, is sometimes demanded for the "belle of the village," but in addition to the first cost such beauties are apt to give their husbands a good deal of trouble afterwards, unless, indeed, they be of Cato-like temperament. Marriages may be dissolved for the merest trifles by either party, but if by the woman herself, part of the money or goods paid to her parents is refunded. In the case of the Mahomedans, a woman retains all her real and personal property after divorcement. A native, in whose house I stayed several weeks, told me that his wife had been married to another Kadyan before he married her. "And did her husband die?" I enquired. "Oh, no," he answered. "Then why did she leave him?" "She did not like him," was the rejoinder. And such cases of mutual separation are far from uncommon. These people, unlike the Muruts of the Limbang, had plenty of rice and other food, the produce of their padi fields and gardens. In some parts of the island it is extremely difficult to purchase food of any kind, the natives possessing only barely enough for their own wants. Here, however, one could obtain fowls, eggs, rice, and vegetables in abundance. The prices may be interesting. For excellent fowls, from fivepence to eightpence was charged; eggs fivepence per dozen; vegetables enough for two or three days' supply for twopence; while lodging, fire-wood, and plenty of jungle fruit in season, may be had for nothing. Dollars and cents were current here, but cloth, especially grey shirting and a stout black fabric, were also readily received in exchange at a slight advance on Labuan prices. The men here were willing to act either as guides or carriers for tenpence to a shilling per diem. When I returned to the house at night from the forest, I generally found a liberal share of the jungle fruit which had been brought home by the men laid on my mats; and after dinner my own men and the villagers would drop in for a chat by the light of a flickering dammar torch. Twenty or thirty dusky figures smoking or eating betel-nut had a curious effect in the badly lighted hut. All through the fast month these people never eat or drink anything between sunrise and sunset, but they make up for this between sunset and sunrise, the women being busy cooking rice and fish nearly all night. At the end of the month, too, a great feast was held, at which all in the village and neighbourhood met and smoked the "roko" of peace, all old feuds and wrongs being for the nonce forgiven or forgotten. Everyone came dressed in their best head-cloths and sarongs, being armed with their war parangs, and altogether forming an animated and brightly coloured assemblage. This feast was held at night, and for several days previous the women had been busy bringing in fire-wood and cleaning rice. On the day on which this gathering was held the culinary operations were on an extended scale, and, at the appointed meal time, great heaps of rice, vegetables, fish, and fruit, were piled on fresh banana leaves right down the centre of the house. A dignified green-coated old hadji graced the repast with his presence, and he was pleased to kill the fowl for my own dinner, according to native rite, and evidently liked being noticed as a traveller, for his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure when I asked him of his voyage to Mecca. He complained very much of the insults, losses, and hardships, to which pilgrims were exposed, but his appetite was evidently as good as ever, since the clearance of rice and fish he made around him at dinner was something startling to see. These people had but few domesticated animals. The Muruts had plenty of dirty, half-starved black pigs running about the jungle near their house, and a few goats. They had also a peculiar race of small, brown dogs, resembling terriers, which are very useful in pig hunting. The Kadyans had cats wonderfully like our own, but with abnormal tails. Poultry are represented only by cocks and hens. Some of the wild birds of the forests are domesticated as pets, the most common being Java and little red sparrows; a beautiful little green ground pigeon; paroquets of two kinds, one very small like a love-bird, the other having two long blue attenuated feathers in its tail. Mino birds are not unfrequently tamed, and they may be taught to speak words or phrases quite readily. Some of the larger hornbills, the "rhinoceros" variety especially, are also tamed, and are most amusing creatures. There was one in a house where I stayed a week or two, and a more voracious bird I never saw. At night it would perch itself on a stick below the house and croak for hours together, but with daylight in the morning it would enter the house to beg for food, and the quantities it could consume during the day were surprisingly large. Everything edible seemed equally welcome--rice, fruit, vegetables, and even the entire bodies of small birds which my boy had been skinning as specimens were gulped down with apparent relish. Any trifles thrown towards it were sure of being caught in its great bill, and then thrown again in the air and caught previous to their being swallowed. The Kadyans have an ingenious way of capturing the little green or puni pigeons (Chalcophaps indica) with a bamboo call, by which their soft cooing notes are exactly imitated. These birds are gregarious, and just before breeding-time they arrive in large quantities. "The call is formed of two pieces of bamboo, a slender tube, a short piece 3''--4'' in diameter, and a connecting piece of wood. In the short piece is a hole similar to the embouchure of a flute; and the lower end of the blow-tube is fitted to this in such a manner that, on blowing, a soft, low, flute-like 'cooing' is easily producible; and this can be readily modulated so as to be heard either at a long distance or near at hand. This instrument is figured in Proc. Zool. Soc. 1879, Part II., p. 346. The native, who has taken up his position in the forest or jungle where these little birds are found, blows very softly at first; but if there be no answering call from the birds he blows louder and louder, thus increasing the radius of sound. If there really be any pigeons of this kind within hearing, they are sure to answer; and then the hunter blows softer and softer until they are enticed into the 'wigwam' of leafy branches which he has erected in order to conceal himself from sight. The door or entrance to these 'wigwams' is partially closed by a screen of palm (Nipa fruticans) leaves. This is elevated a little to allow the pigeons to enter, after which it is allowed to fall, portcullis-like, entirely, so as to close the entrance; and the bird is then easily secured. Above the entrance two holes are made, so that the hunter can look out without being seen. These huts are formed of a few poles or sticks, rudely thatched with twigs and palm-leaves, and vary from four to six feet in height. "This pigeon is migratory, and arrives in Labuan and on the opposite Bornean coast with the change of the monsoon, about April. Many hundreds are then caught by means of this 'dakut,' or 'bamboo call,' and are offered for sale by their captors for a cent or two each. They are also kept by the natives as domestic pets, along with young hornbills, the 'Mino' bird or 'Grackle,' a small species of paroquet, and Java sparrows." At this season little huts are built in the forest, and the hunter, ensconced within, blows his call, and they will actually run inside the hut, where they are caught. The Kadyans and their Murut neighbours collect a good deal of gutta and caoutchouc in the surrounding forests, which is afterwards manufactured into lumps or balls, and taken over to Labuan for sale. The gutta is obtained from four or five kinds of large forest trees, belonging to the genus isonandra, by felling the trees and girdling or ringing their bark at intervals of every two feet, the milky juice or sap being caught in vessels fashioned of leaves or cocoa-nut shells. The crude sap is hardened into slabs or bricks by boiling, and is generally adulterated with twenty per cent. of scraped bark--indeed, the Chinese traders who purchase the gutta from the collectors, would refuse the pure article in favour of that adulterated with bark, and to which its red colour is mainly due. Caoutchouc or rubber is in the N.W. districts of Borneo the produce of three species of climbing plants, known to the natives as "Manoongan," "Manoongan putih," and "Manoongan manga." Their stems are fifty to one hundred feet in length, and rarely more than six inches in diameter, the bark corrugated, and of a grey or reddish-brown colour; leaves oblong, and of a glossy green colour; the flowers are borne in axillary clusters, and are succeeded by yellow fruits, the size of an orange, and containing seeds as large as beans, each enclosed in a section of apricot-coloured fruit. These fruits are of a delicious flavour, and are highly valued by the natives. Here, again, the stems are cut down to facilitate the collection of the creamy sap, which is afterwards coagulated into rough balls by the addition of nipa salt. It is most deplorable to see the fallen gutta trees lying about in all directions in the forest, and the rubber-yielding willughbeias are also gradually, but none the less surely, being exterminated by the collectors here in Borneo, as, indeed, throughout the other islands and on the Peninsula, where they also abound. It was formerly thought that gutta was the produce of one particular species of tree--Isonandra gutta--but that from the Lawas district is formed of the mixed sap of at least five species, the juice of ficus and one or two species of artocarpeæ being not unfrequently used in addition as adulterants. The Bornean "gutta soosoo," or rubber, again, is the mixed sap of three species of willughbeias, and here, again, the milk of two or three other plants is added surreptitiously to augment the quantity collected. The gutta trees are a long time in attaining to maturity, and are not easy to propagate, except by seeds. The willughbeias, on the other hand, grow quickly, and may be easily and rapidly increased by vegetative as well as by seminal modes of propagation, hence the latter are more especially deserving of the attention of our Government in India, where they might reasonably be expected to thrive. No doubt there are yet many thousands of tons of these products existing in Bornean woods, but as the trees are killed by the collectors without a thought of replacement, the supply will recede further and further from the markets, and so prices must of necessity rise as the supply fails, or as the collection of it becomes more laborious. The demand for caoutchouc from Borneo is a very recent one, yet in many districts the supply is practically exhausted. In Assam, Java, and also in Australia, rubber is supplied by Ficus elastica, which is cultivated for the purpose. There are many milk-yielding species of ficus in the Bornean forests which might possibly afford a supply in remunerative quantities as the result of careful experiments. The Malayan representatives of the bread-fruit family also deserve examination, as excellent rubber is yielded by Castilloa elastica, a South-American plant of this order. CHAPTER V. KINA BALU, OR CHINESE WIDOW MOUNTAIN. Journey to Kina Balu--Visit to Pangeran Rau--Agricultural implements--Sea Gipsies--Datu of the Badjows--Musa--Fertile plain--River-side gardens--Women gardeners--Fording the Tawaran--Bawang--Good scenery--Si Nilau--Kalawat--Rat-traps--A wet journey--Bungol--Koung village--Native traders--Rice culture--Kiau--Hiring of guides--Ascent of Kina Balu--A curious breakfast--Rare plants en route--Mountain flowers--Large pitcher plants--A cave dwelling--Scarcity of water--Mountain orchids--Cool climate--Slippery descent--Lost in the forest--Return to Kiau--Native produce--Journey to Marie Parie Spur--Return to the coast--Native women of the interior--Hire of native boat--Return to Labuan. On the 29th of November, just as the dry season was commencing in Labuan, Mr. Peter Veitch (who had a few days before joined me after his travels in Australia and the Fiji Islands) and myself started off on a journey to Kina Balu, which we intended to reach by way of the Tawaran river. We had with us twenty-six men and two bird-hunters, so that we formed a rather imposing party of thirty, all told. The men were armed with native parangs or swords; some had krisses, and eight or ten carried muskets with which we had provided them. We embarked our men, stores, and travelling gear on board a little coast-steamer bound for Sulu, and the following morning we arrived at Pulo Gaya, and the captain lowered another boat in addition to the one we had brought with us, and put us all safely ashore near Gantisan in Gaya Bay. We waited here at a Roman Catholic Catechist's Station for some time, and I ascended to the summit of the grass-covered hills northwards. These are forest-covered below, the nebong palm being very abundant, and attaining large dimensions. The hill-tops above, which look so smooth and green when seen from the sea, are found to be clad with coarse "lallang" grass a yard high, among which the men who accompanied me pointed out several deer lairs. Fresh green tufts of Cheilanthes tenuifolia grew in the crevices of the decomposed sandstone, and among the clumps of nebong palm; a singular fern, Schizæa digitata, was very plentiful. Returning, we re-arranged our baggage, and sending our boat round to Pangeran Rau's place at Kalombini, by sea, we and the majority of the men started over the ridge of the wooded hill on foot. It was a stiff climb in the hot sun, the path being both steep and rough. In descending to the plain on the other side we shot three large swallows and a crimson and blue-painted barbet; we were also fortunate in finding a pretty pink-flowered zingiberad in bloom. The flat plain into which we descended was partly cultivated, and the rice especially looked strong and healthy. Fine buffaloes were also grazing here. We reached Pangeran Rau's house at three o'clock, and had the usual bichari or talk, arm-chairs and mats being at once brought into the head-house on our arrival. Some of the women were busy pounding the rice to separate it from the husk; and one or two ran away shrieking at our approach--it was simply affectation, and not fright. We found the Pangeran rather reserved, but hospitably inclined. He was a gray-haired old fellow of over sixty, and spoke but little, asked no questions, and spent most of his time sitting cross-legged on a mat drinking tea, chewing limed "sirra" leaf and betel, or smoking long cigarettes of tobacco rolled in nipa leaf, all being brought to him from time to time by little Malay boys. The head-house was soon filled with men from the other houses, who flocked in to see us and to hear the news from Labuan of our followers. We rested a little, and then walked out to obtain a bath before dinner. Some natives directed us to a spring about half a mile off across the plain, which here, near the houses, is of sand covered with coarse sedges and scrub. We passed two or three palm-leaf cottages on our way; and here I noticed the first implement of agriculture I saw in Borneo. It was a wooden harrow; and a native seeing me interested in it, pointed to a rude iron-shod plough which hung in a large mango tree near one of the huts. A good many of the people who live here are Badjows or "sea gipsies," so called from their habit of wandering about from place to place in boats, in which they seem more thoroughly at home than in the wretched huts they now and then build on shore. They are essentially lazy, and will not walk a yard if they can get a buffalo or anything having four legs to carry them. We saw two Badjow boys going to the spring for water, and they both rode on a buffalo calf, which seemed used to its mischievous load. We returned to dinner at dusk, and managed to get a good night's rest here, as the houses were cool, being built over the water, and the mosquitoes were not nearly so bloodthirsty as usual. Our boat did not come round until nearly ten the following morning. We had been up since sunrise, and had our breakfast; so, when our craft appeared, we borrowed a boat and a couple of men from the Pangeran, and left for the Badjow village on the Menkabong. We reached that place about noon in a drenching shower, and our guides assured us that further progress that day was impossible. We therefore had our things brought up into the head-house and soon made ourselves comfortable. We had brought two dozen fine pomoloes with us from Labuan, and the ripe ones were now really excellent in flavour; and we thoroughly enjoyed this delicious fruit for dessert after a frugal luncheon of bread and dried fish. About four o'clock the rain ceased, and the sun shone beautifully, so we took our guns, and went ashore for an hour to shoot. We secured a few pigeons and other birds, returning to dinner at sunset. Mr. Veitch lost his watch among the long grass, but was fortunate enough to find it on retracing his steps. We arose at day-break the following morning, and started off, reaching the market-place on the Tamparulie plain about seven o'clock. A large market of fruit, fish, vegetables, rice, and other native produce, was being held, and on landing we met with the Datu in whose village we had remained last night. We told him the object of our presence in his territory, and found him agreeable, although not nearly so dignified as Pangeran Rau. He sent off one of his men to fetch us some fruit, and he soon returned with a basket of fine langsat, in return for which we gave him a couple of pomoloes, and we afterwards smoked a cigar together while our men unloaded the boats. We tried to hire two or three men from him; but as he was very extortionate in his demands as to payment for them and a buffalo-sledge which we wished to load with rice for our men, we cut the matter short by refusing his assistance at any price. We sent back the Pangeran's boat, and giving our men as much rice each as they could carry, we returned the rest to the other boat and left two men in charge until our return. I am inclined to think his greed was excited by seeing the cloth and goods we had as the men unloaded the boat. We now found out the value of the man "Musa," whom we had engaged to superintend our men. He was an old man, but still powerful and active, and he possessed the secret of persuasion to the utmost degree. Under his direction the men were all loaded equally, and to their individual satisfaction, and we set off towards Tamparulie. We saw a pretty white-flowered cucurbit growing over bushes here and there, and bearing spindle-shaped fruits of a scarlet colour and about two inches long. Here and there also the red-berried spikes of an amorphophallus were seen among the tall grass. I and Veitch shouldered our guns, and pushed on across a low grassy plain inhabited for the time by a few black water buffaloes, and then came a long march in single file across a series of wet rice or padi fields, the paths through which were scarcely a foot broad, very uneven, and being of pure clay, the last night's rain had made them as slippery as wet soap. We who had only our guns to carry found it rather hard work floundering about on the greasy tracks; but the men were in good spirits, and a march of about two hours brought us to the Tawaran, close to the village of Tamparulie which stands on its banks. The plain we had just traversed was well cultivated, and very fertile, rice, bananas, cocoa-nut trees, and other vegetation being most luxuriant. Buffaloes were employed to draw the rude ploughs through the rich, moist earth. We saw immense flocks of white "padi birds," and here and there a crane, majestically stalking among the crops. At our halting-place the river is very shallow, its high banks being fringed with groves of cocoa-nuts and bananas; and in one or two places I noted neatly-fenced and well-kept gardens descending nearly to the water's edge. In these were sweet potatoes, cucumbers, maize, and "kaladi," or Caladium esculentum. The women seemed to be the principal cultivators of these little plots, and we could see them at work among the garden crops here and there as we passed along. Here we noticed a lovely palm for the first time--a caryota--having dark green plumose foliage, the pinnæ abruptly jagged, and notched along its margins. As we partook of our luncheon, an intelligent old native came along, and sent our men to his garden, which he pointed out to us, for some green cocoa-nuts, so that we obtained a delicious draught, which we found very refreshing after our hot walk. He was very talkative, and begged a little brandy; and he also gladly accepted the seeds of a fine pomolo (Citrus decumana), to plant in his garden. We did not cross the stream here, but plunged on beside the river, following a narrow, muddy buffalo track, which in places resembled a tunnel, being completely embowered with tall grasses, bound together with large convolvuli and other creeping and climbing plants. A heavy walk of a couple of hours brought us to the first group of Dusun houses, which stood on a bit of rising ground close beside the stream, being surrounded by a grove of cocoa-nut palms and other fruit-trees. We stayed here to rest our followers, and while waiting shot several birds on the surrounding trees. Let not the gentle reader blame us for wanton destruction! There was "method in our madness;" we did not "kill for sport," but only for the advancement of learning, or for food. About half a mile beyond we came to a fording-place in the stream, and descending the slippery clay banks, we crossed the river, which in places reached up to our waists; and in one place the current was rather too strong to be pleasant. Beaching the other side, our way lay along an abandoned bed of the stream for some distance. The old shingly bed was in some places quite thickly covered with Celosia argentea, forming compact little bushes, two feet high, every branchlet terminated by a rose-tipped spike of silvery bracts, forming, as seen here, a very pretty object. We reached the Dusan village of Bawang (bawang, in the Dusun dialect = river) about four o'clock, after fording a creek up to our necks, and indeed we were both tired and hungry. We took refuge in a house, which stood on the bank, quite close to the river, and our men soon had several fires ablaze on the pebbly beach below. We pulled off our wet things, and enjoyed a bath in the bubbling stream, and then a nice rub, dry and clean clothes, made us quite comfortable by dinner time. "Bongsur," one of the bird hunters, brought in two or three very pretty birds here; and Mr. Veitch added a black, red-bellied squirrel ("basing") to our collection. We slept the sleep of the weary; and the following morning pushed on up the slope beyond the village. The shady jungle through which we passed ere we began to ascend was thickly carpeted with selaginellas, S. Wallichii being especially luxuriant. S. caulescens drooped from the moist rocks here and there very gracefully. We found the climbing rather arduous work, and but for the shade of the overhanging bamboo, which grows here plentifully, we should have fared worse. On reaching the crest of the hill, an altitude of say 800 feet, we got along better. At this height we found our first nepenthes, a pretty green-pitchered form, swollen below, and having a broad, flattened red rim to its mouth (N. Phyllamphora). We rested an hour on the top, but could procure no water, excepting a few drops from the cut end of a climbing plant, which the natives call "kalobit," and of which they sometimes form rough cordage, by rending it into long strips. The juice of this plant is intensely bitter; but the water which distilled itself slowly from the cut end was quite pure and tasteless. We ascended about 1500 feet to-day, and the views from the summit of the range between Bawang and Si Nilau were very satisfying, all the intervening country to the sea being plainly visible, as well as the whole coast-line, as far as Gaya Bay. We walked along quicker than usual, for the sky became very black, and it was evident that we should soon have a drenching shower. Our guides had forgotten the way to Si Nilau, and so there was nothing for it but to push on, in the hopes of meeting with a shelter by the way. At length we suddenly came upon the site of a deserted village, and took shelter in a hut--a little better in repair than the rest--while from the trees near both langsat fruit and cocoa-nuts were procurable. Here we waited until the rain abated, when we took up our quarters in the house of a Dusun man, near the site of the old village, which had, as we afterwards heard, been deserted on account of the death of the headman. We had previously met our Dusun landlord about two miles from this village, in some patches of rice and gourds, but he had been too frightened to answer our inquiries as to the route, and rushed down the hill just as the first few drops--big, heavy, solitary drops--fell from the black rain-clouds over head. Fortunately, I had struck the right road a few yards further on, and followed it up, when in turning a rocky corner, where two roads merged into one, I came across the man again face to face. He was so surprised at my sudden reappearance, that he fairly shook with terror, and he rushed down the rocky ledge, which served as a path around the hill-top, with the speed of a startled deer. I had yelled after him to stop, but he ran all the faster; and when afterwards we entered his house, our men had a little trouble to reassure him that we meant him no harm. We soon put the old boy at his ease, however; and then a fowl for our dinner was caught and killed. For this and the fruit we had stolen we paid him a fathom and a half of grey shirting, with which he was very pleased. His house was a very neat one, having a large public room in front, with a stove, hearth, or fire-place opposite the door, and two little sleeping rooms behind. Like all Dusun houses the floor was elevated four feet from the ground, level on piles, so that the pigs and fowls had shelter beneath. The side walls and floors were of bamboo, beaten or pressed out flat, like boards, and being of a clear, yellow colour, they had a warm and comfortable appearance as the fire glowed on the hearth, above which was a rack for the storage of fire-wood, or on which clothes could be dried. After dinner we lit our lamp, and made ourselves as cosy as possible over our post-prandial cigar, after which we were not loath to turn in. Up by daybreak, and snatching our morning meal, we were soon en route for Kalawat Peak, and thence we descended to Kalawat village by a rocky mountain-path, fringed with bamboos, large ginger-worts, and ferns of various kinds. A strong growing species of bauhinia was very showy here, overrunning the branches of bushes and low trees beside the path, and bearing its pale, yellow flowers in large clusters very profusely. As seen at a distance it has a pleasing effect in the landscape--a rare thing with Bornean flowers; and a nearer sight of it is suggestive of our native woodbine. Selaginellas were plentiful near the streams, and near the crest of the Peak (alt. 2000 feet) we saw a dainty little bertolonia, rarely exceeding two inches in height, having pearly-spotted leaves, and terminal clusters of rosy-pink flowers. A stately habited nephrodium, with gracefully arching light-green fronds, nearly a yard long, a zingiberad, with richly barred foliage (Alpinia sp.), two or three species of gleichenia, and now and then an inconspicuous epiphyte, orchid, or fern occurred, to add variety to our route. We were puzzled to-day by seeing horizontal bamboo-stems fixed in the trees over our path, but we eventually discovered that they were intended to serve as bridges or paths to rats or other animals, traps being set to catch those who were unwary enough to avail themselves of the convenient crossing. A curious custom of the Dusun is to entrap and eat the common field rats, wild cats, &c., of the country. Beside all the little paths through the forest, near Kina Balu, wooden rat-traps (see Fig.) are set in the herbage through which the animals have made their tracks. A form of this trap, slightly modified, is hung on the branches of trees for the capture of squirrels and other fruit-eating rodents. I asked Kurow how long the Dusun had eaten rats? His reply was that, "Once upon a time," a horde of rats, far more than ever followed the 'Pied Piper,' I should judge by his adjectives, came and ate up all the rice and kaladi. A conference was held by the then reigning chief in the head house, and his advice was of the stern, practical kind. "Talking is of no use," said he; "the rats have eaten all our rice: we have no other food left to us; ergo, we must eat up the rats!" "And so it was, and is to this day," said Kurow; but I fancied I could see a sly twinkle in his bright eyes--just the same merry twinkle one expects to see in anyone's face, after having related a palpably improbable story with all due solemnity! We pass several very pretty little rills, at which drinking or washing was facilitated by spouts, made of the leaf-stalk of the sago palm, and placed so as to conduct the cool sparkling water on a level with one's face. Flourishing rice and kaladi fields became more plentiful; and the tree ferns, which we had first sighted after leaving Si Nilau, now became more numerous. Just ere we reached Kalawat, we noticed some splendid specimens in the jungle; and now and then even out in the clearings their great crowns of fresh green plumose fronds being fully exposed to the sun, and in some cases borne aloft on slender black trunks, 20 feet or more in height. At the village of Kalawat the houses are in one place backed by an immense grove of these feathery plumed tall tree ferns, above which the white stemmed betel-nut palm towers aloft, its dark green foliage and pendent clusters of bright orange fruit standing out clear and bright against the cool blue sky. At Kalawat we rested awhile. The straggling dwellings were built on piles over the muddy ground, and a few ill-fed black pigs were rooting up turf in all directions in quest of food. Here, for the first time, along this route, we were pleased to see tame bees hived in sections of hollow tree trunks, about two feet in length, the top and bottom being stopped up, and a hole burnt in the centre as an entrance for the busy workers. In one or two cases separate little huts were erected especially for the bees, but as a rule the hives were placed on a board beneath the overhanging eaves of the houses. The kind of bee kept is very small, much smaller than that common in England, and I was struck at the peculiar manner in which they wriggled their bodies simultaneously as they congregated in groups on the hive near the entrance. These tame bees, as well as their wild brethren, who nest in the tall forest trees, make but little honey in proportion to that of our northern kinds, and are especially kept for the wax they yield, this being used occasionally by the natives in the form of rude candles, and it is also an article of export from Borneo. Being in advance of our followers we waited here an hour. It is a singular trait of the Borneans to show no curiosity when strangers pass through their villages. We sat here on a rock for some considerable time, and yet, not even the children came out to look at us. Two men sitting outside on a verandah, basket-making, and an old woman, were all the inhabitants we saw, but doubtless many a pair of bright eyes watched us secretly through the cracks of the bamboo houses. As it came on to rain, however, we entered one of the houses, in which were seven or eight young men and several women. We tried to get some fruit here, but the langsat were not ripe, and cocoa-nuts were scarce owing to the flowering stems being cut off and the exuding sap collected in a bamboo vessel to be made into toddy, a drink of which the hill villagers are very fond. At last a couple of young nuts were forthcoming, and a dash of brandy in each gave us a most refreshing draught. As the rain ceased, we decided to proceed to Bungol, the next village along our route. To this one of our guides, Pangeran Raman of Labuan,--an artful old sweep--loudly objected, urging that the Tawaran would be flooded--that we should not reach Bungol at all that night, as it would be dark long ere we could do so--adding, that there was no intervening resting-place. I was used to these excuses, and determined to go on, to which Mr. Veitch also agreed. Our guides, who had come here from Si Nilau, refused to go further, nor would any of the Kalawat people go to Bungol with us as guides, but at last one of them pointed out the right road for us to take, and I and Mr. Veitch set out along the rocky path alone. We rested on the hill above the village, and then Pangeran Raman and our two servants, or "boys," joined us, and said the men refused to come on. This did not deter us, and we plunged down the hill-path and through one or two clearings, in which sweet potatoes, maize, and tobacco grew luxuriantly. Then down a greasy clay path, embowered with bamboos, tall canes and jungle, until at last the Tawaran was reached in the valley below, rushing and boiling among the smooth boulders in its bed. We sat on the banks of the stream to rest. Here a pretty little palm about a yard high formed strong tufts and patches, its roots being laved by the stream below. Its pinnate leaves were graceful, and had a distinct grassy appearance. Draping trees close by the river we also found a species of vanilla in bloom. It had large waxy flowers of a creamy white colour, the lip having a five-lobed hairy crest of a dark purple-brown colour. As many as twenty buds were counted in a cluster, but the flowers expanded one at a time. We crossed the river, which nowhere exceeded our knees in height, and pushed on up the next hill. The mist was gathering thick and white in the valleys, and it began to rain in torrents. In a very few minutes the path up the hill-side became a brook, and the rain beat in our faces so that we could scarcely see our way. Added to this inconvenience was the thought that we might not be in the right track, and of this our worthy "guide," Pangeran Raman, could tell us nothing. He was a very good fair-weather traveller, and the biggest man in our party when all was well around a good camp fire! At a pinch, when most wanted, he was perfectly useless--indeed, in the way. I am afraid I did not pity him as he stood shivering in the cold, and begging piteously of us to return to a miserable little hut beside the river for the night. This was out of the question, as we had not a dry thread on us and no food, so I pushed up the hill to reconnoitre. Just at the top I met a Dusun man who had come from Bungol, and who was going to Kalawat, and when Mr. Veitch and the old Pangeran came up, we induced the native to return with us to Bungol. We now felt more at ease, and splashed down the hill-side merrily, and after crossing the Tawaran four times, in one place nearly to our necks, we reached the cocoanut-crested hill on which the village of Bungol stands. Our "boys" had lagged behind and only reached the houses just before night-fall, having been mainly guided by the accidental discharge of our guns, which we had let off in order to dry them soon after our arrival. Our guide had brought us to his own house, and we soon had a good fire, and took off our wet clothes, after which we sat by the fire clad in native sarongs which our host lent us. We soon wrung out our clothes, and hung them on a beam over the blazing fire to dry, and then came the question of dinner. At last we procured a fowl and a bowl of rice, and my Chinese "boy," Kimjeck, who was a good cook, soon had these on the fire. After it was dark we heard shouting, and soon after six of our men who carried the food, clothes, and sleeping gear came in, being afraid, as they said, that we should want food. We were soon all as jolly as sandboys. The fowl was cut up and boiled with a tin of julienne soup and three or four chilies, and this and a nice white bowl of steaming rice formed a dish which to us, tired and hungry as we were, seemed "fit for a king." A cup of chocolate and a cigar followed by way of dessert, and all our troubles for the time being vanished in smoke! We paid our guide a fathom of grey shirting, and gave him a looking-glass for our night's lodging. The fowl and a couple of cocoanuts also were paid for with a fathom of shirting, and everybody was thus easily satisfied. Having only a sleeping-rug each, we found it rather chilly, and I could not sleep well. I rose about 11 o'clock, however, and made up a good fire, and then lay down beside it and slept well until daybreak. We had breakfasted in the morning and were outside ready to start, when our laggards of yesterday came in, and they looked sheepish and crestfallen when they found that we were really about to start on and had not intended to have awaited their coming. Two Dusun men now accompanied us as guides, and after crossing the Tawaran several times, we mounted the hill to the left, crossing the ridge and descending towards Koung. The way to the village was down rocky gutters seemingly worn by heavy rains, and the hill-side paths in the kaladi gardens were very bad to traverse, and we were thoroughly tired out ere we reached the grassy flat on which Koung is built, indeed, this was the most toilsome day's work we had hitherto had, although, perhaps, our long tramp yesterday had something to do with its being so. We found the Koung people peaceably inclined, although we did not forget that it was here that Mr. Low and St. John had some difficulty with the natives the first time they came this way. We slept well, and in the morning after breakfast we retraced our steps by the river to examine a scarlet flower which we had seen from the opposite bank yesterday. It turned out to be Bauhinia Kochiana, or an allied species. Mr. Veitch shot a fine white-headed hawk, which was on the look out for a breakfast of fresh fish from the river. We also secured several other birds we had not before seen. The red-fruited Rubus rosæfolius was very pretty here among the rocks, and we observed one or two orchids of interest on the trees overhanging the stream. The river is very pretty as it passes the village, and as the water comes from the hills above, it is deliciously clear and cool, quite a luxury, in fact, either for drinking or bathing. We enjoyed our morning ramble, and on returning to the house wherein we had slept we found all the men ready to start for Kiau. On our crossing the ford at the end of the village we met a large party of natives laden with baskets of tobacco and a little beeswax, going on a trading expedition. There were some women among them, who, of course, carried the heaviest loads. Several of the men were tattooed on the breast and arms, and all were armed with brass-handled parongs and slender-shafted spears. They showed no surprise at seeing us, and passed on apparently unconcerned as to our object. Our way now lay up the valley, first on the right and then on the left of the river, but there was no great difficulty in crossing, the water being rarely as high as the hips. We passed huts here and there, and irrigated patches of rice. Maize and sweet potatoes grew around the houses, and almost all had a clump of big-leaved bananas near the door. The rice land was irrigated by a ditch cut from the river, a little dam being made so as to direct the water into it as required. We noticed several fish-traps set in the river to-day. These are made of a bamboo stem six feet long, split lengthwise and made into a long basket-like shape with rattans, so that it is wide at top and narrow at the other end. In order to set them effectively, an oblique dam of stones and earth is made so as to direct a large body of water through an aperture, and in this the basket is placed. A fish once washed into it has no chance of escape, and large quantities are caught at times, especially after the river is freshened by rains. Occasionally we saw men or women working on the rice-land, and I was very much struck at the care taken in planting and cultivating the crop, not a weed being anywhere visible in the rice-patches. The planting was extremely regular, each tuft or stool being about eight inches from its neighbours, so that all obtained their due amount of earth, light, and air, a lesson indeed for some of our own cultivators of cereals here at home. We passed immense clumps of bamboo, the feathery wands rising in masses to a height of fifty or sixty feet. From one of these clumps our men secured some of the young crowns, which are white and tender, and by no means despisable as a vegetable when boiled with salt. At Bawang I had noticed them eating boiled fern-tops with their rice, and on asking for a little I was surprised at its delicate spinach-like flavour. We met a boy at one of the crossings with a basket of fine langsat fruit, some of which we purchased, giving him a Chinese looking-glass in exchange. At length, crossing the river for the last time, we rested in the shade of a huge sandstone rock for a luncheon of cold rice and fruit. Our path then lay to the left through low jungle, and on one or two of the old remaining trees we noticed masses of Grammatophyllum speciosum with stems eight feet in length--each plant a good cartload, and evidently in the most luxuriant health, with foliage fresh and green, although fully exposed to the hot sun. Coelogynes were plentiful on the lower trees and rocks by the river. One sandstone boulder was entirely covered with Davallia ciliata, and some fine tall grasses grew among the pebbles of the old river bed. The rocks bordering the river are of sandstone, and yet at Koung and along our route to-day we continually met with boulders of granite sometimes in the present river bed, sometimes on the old dry bed, and sometimes, as on the green Koung, immense pieces, a hundred tons weight, lie isolated on the plain. Half an hour's walk from our resting-place by the river brought us to the clearings and the hill or dry rice-fields of the Kiau villagers. The crop was ripening fast, and the whole hill-side, as well as the one opposite beyond the river, looked very flourishing. Here and there were green patches of kaladi, and around the field-huts of bamboo, cucumbers clustered, and sweet potatoes, maize, and occasionally bananas, looked prosperous. We followed a narrow footpath through the rice, which was kept from injury by a little fence of bamboo, and in places the earth was prevented from washing down by a few large stones laid in line. We reached the village about two o'clock, the journey from Koung having taken us about five hours. The people here did seem to feel more interest than ordinary, and we soon had a tolerably good audience around us. One by one our followers came in, and we soon availed ourselves of the comfort of a rub over with a towel and dry clothes, after which we arranged the various plants collected during the day, and continued our journals. "Bongsur" brought in a fine brown owl and a pretty scarlet bird with black wing-tips, neither of which we had seen before. For dinner we had boiled fowl and rice, followed by coffee and a cigarette of native tobacco wrapped in maize-husk. We lay on our mats and rugs at one end of the large public room, all our men being cooking and jabbering away to their hearts' content, the Babel of sounds, partly Malay and partly Dusun, being deafening. Tobacco was brought in for sale soon after our arrival, and one man brought a fowl, but as he asked double its value we refused to buy it. The greatest interest was shown in all we did, more especially by the boys and young girls who crowded on the pathway just in front of where we lay. When we extinguished our lamp and turned into our blankets they soon became quiet, the people of the house retiring to their private apartments, and the others to their houses in the village. It was a wet night, and we felt chilly, but slept well. Our first task after breakfast in the morning was to overhaul all our stores, arranging those we wanted on the mountain so that they could be easily carried, and packing the rest so that they could be left with safety. Our stock of rice was so low that we were rather alarmed, but "Musa" assured us that he should be able to buy some in the village. After re-arranging all our things, we took our guns and walked over the hill. We saw very few birds, nor were the plants we discovered of any particular interest, with the exception of a large white-flowered arundina, having a rich amethyst-coloured lip. We saw some immense ginger-worts, having leafy stems ten or twelve feet in height; also large ferns of the angiopteris type, while Mikania volubilis overran the bushes along our route. Returning to the house, we engaged Boloung and Kurow, the acting head men of the village, and six of their followers, to take us up the mountain on the morrow. "Musa" and Pangeran Raman did most of the bargaining on our side, and at length concluded the matter by paying over the amount of cloth and brass wire as agreed. Next morning we selected sixteen of our men and started for the mountain. In a rich bit of shady forest on the other side of the Kiau ridge we found the evergreen Calanthe macroloba, bearing spikes of white flowers much larger individually than those of C. veratrifolia. A foliage plant marked with silvery blotches above and crimson beneath was also collected. Our road was a rough and tiring one of sloping hill-side paths very wet and slippery, and in places blocked by fallen trees. About one o'clock we reached a rushing stream, and our guides brought us to a large overhanging rock, where they said we must pass the night. It now began to rain heavily, so we at once told the men to cut sticks and palm-leaves to lay on the ground where we were to sleep, and over which we could spread our waterproof sheets and rugs. This was soon done, and meanwhile our "boys" prepared luncheon. We were disgusted at stopping thus early in the day, and wished our guides to proceed when the rain abated, which however they determinedly refused to do. To make the best of a bad bargain, I and Mr. Veitch explored the forest above our camp, where we found a pretty aroid with white blotched leaves, and another marbled with silvery grey; also a variegated plant resembling an anæctochilus, but which Professor Reichenbach tells me is the Cystorchis variegata of Blume. This plant I had previously gathered in another locality further south; indeed, it seems pretty generally distributed along the north-west coast. Specimens of two or three delicate filmy ferns were found near the streams; and at our camping-place, which we named the "Sleeping Rock," the pretty little Adiantum diaphanum was plentiful, and living plants were brought to England from this habitat. About seven o'clock next morning we started on our upward journey. It was hot work at first, but we could feel it perceptibly get cooler after the first two or three thousand feet. At about four thousand feet mosses are very plentiful, the finest species gathered being Dawsonia superba, which fringed the path, but nowhere in great plenty. A new white-flowered species of burmannia was also gathered, and small-flowered orchids were seen. In one place a shower of small scarlet rhododendron flowers covered the ground at our feet, the plant being epiphytal in the trees overhead. It was very misty, and the moss which covered every rotten stick, and the vegetation generally, was dripping with moisture, and every sapling we grasped in climbing upwards was the means of shaking a shower-bath on us from the trees above. At about five thousand feet a dead and broken pitcher of Nepenthes Lowi lying in the path led to the discovery of the plant itself scrambling among the mossy branches overhead, its singular flagon-shaped ascidia hanging from the point of every leaf. It is a vigorous-habited plant, with bright green leathery leaves, the petioles of which clasp the stem in a peculiar manner. The only plants we saw were epiphytal on mossy trunks and branches, and we searched for young plants diligently, but without success. All the pitchers hitherto seen are cauline ones, and as the plant has never yet been seen in a young state, it is an open question as to whether the radical pitchers differ in shape or size, as is the case with most other species. As we ascended higher, epiphytal orchids, especially erias, dendrochilia, and coelogynes became more plentiful, and we came upon a large-flowered rhododendron, bearing rich orange flowers two inches in diameter, and twenty flowers in a cluster! It grew on a dangerous declivity, and not one of our lazy men would venture to get it for us. Such a prize, however, was too lovely to forego, and after a wet scramble among the surrounding bushes, I secured it in good condition. Two or three other species were seen in flower, but none equal to it in its golden beauty. Casuarina trees became common, and higher up these were joined by two or three species of gleichenias, and a distinct form of dipteris. Phyllocladus also appeared, and a glaucus-leaved dianella (D. javanica). Here also were two of the most distinct of all rhododendrons, R. ericifolium and R. stenophyllum. On open spaces among rocks and sedges, the giant Nepenthes Rajah began to appear, the plants being of all sizes, and in the most luxuriant health and beauty. The soil in which they grew was a stiff yellow loam, surfaced with sandstone-grit, and around the larger plants a good deal of rich humus and leaf débris had collected. The long red-pitchered N. Edwardsiana was seen in two places. This plant, like N. Lowii, is epiphytal in its perfect state, and is of a slender rambling habit. Highest of all in the great nepenthes zone came N. villosa, a beautiful plant, having rounded pitchers of the softest pink colour, with a crimson frilled orifice, similar to that of N. Edwardsiana. All thoughts of fatigue and discomfort vanished as we gazed on these living wonders of the Bornean Andes! Here, on this cloud-girt mountain side, were vegetable treasures which Imperial Kew had longed for in vain. Discovered by Mr. Low in 1851, dried specimens had been transmitted by him to Europe, and Dr. (now Sir Joseph) Hooker had described and illustrated them in the Transactions of the Linnæan Society, but all attempts to introduce them alive into European gardens had failed. To see these plants in all their health and vigour was a sensation I shall never forget--one of those which we experience but rarely in a whole lifetime! We reached the cave (altitude 9,000 feet) about three o'clock, wet and hungry, but far from unhappy. Our first care was to light a fire, which was not at all easy to do, since everything was dripping wet. We secured a bit of dry wood at last, however, and by whittling thin shavings from it with a knife, we managed to start a good fire, and some of the men were directed to cut firewood; but so paralysed were they by the wet and cold, that it was with the greatest difficulty that we could persuade them to do this. Poor old "Musa" cut some wood and made a floor to the cave, after which some brushwood and leaves formed a substitute for a mattress. The next difficulty was to obtain water, since the men we had sent to search for it returned empty handed, having failed to find any. As a last resort I had to undertake this duty myself, and, descending the hill-side, I found a tiny pool in a gully, from which I procured a little in our cook-pots. It was not near enough, however; and in wandering in search of more, I came upon a patch of the large nepenthes, from the old pitchers of which I was able to augment my supply by carefully pouring off the rain water from a rather liberal under stratum of flies, ants, and other insect débris. Our guides slept under a rock a little further on and higher up the mountain side, and they found a stream from which good water was procured by our men in the morning and during our stay here. It commenced to rain heavily at nightfall, and we found it very cold, although we kept a good fire burning nearly all night, one of the results being that we were nearly blinded by the smoke, there being a draught towards an opening at the hinder part of the cave. The wet dripped from the roof all night, and the walls were also wet and slimy; indeed our quarters were neither extensive nor luxurious; still we made the best of them, and, after all, were rather sorry to leave them at last. We arose at daybreak to collect plants and roots, in the which we were tolerably successful; and before night we had secured all our collections in baskets and bundles ready for the men to carry down. It was very cool and misty in the morning, but about noon it became clearer, and it was hot indeed, the rocks and old trunks reeked in the sunshine. A slender-growing species of calamus was very common in the low forest below the cave, and it supplied "rattans" of excellent quality for tying up our plants. At least three showy species of coelogyne grow on the rocks and mossy banks here, at 9,000 feet elevation; and a dainty little plant with reddish pseudo-bulbs in clusters, each bearing a single spathulate dark green leaf, is common. This last has erect spikes of pure white flowers and buds, reminding one of the lily of the valley in cool, fresh purity, an effect partly due to its column being of a soft green tint, like a speck in the interior of the blossom. The coelogynes are very distinct and beautiful as seen here blooming among the coarse sedges and shrubs. One has white flowers with a blotch of gold on the lip, eight or ten of its waxy flowers being borne on an erect scape. Another has yellow sepals and petals, and a white lip corrugated with brown warts. Another, not so showy, has a nodding spike of white and brown flowers. We ascended about 9,000 feet, and were delighted with the charming views obtainable during clear weather. The whole upper portion of the mountain along the south and south-eastern slopes is nearly devoid of vegetation, except where there are streams and rather sheltered gullies up which the stunted trees and a few other plants struggle up near to the summit. On the north-western side the rocks rise very precipitous; and here vegetation fails to gain foothold. Looking upwards in the early sunlight, we had clear views of the shelving granite slopes, on which are numerous shallow channels down which streams of water pour during misty and rainy weather. When we gained the top of the great spur the morning after our arrival at the cave, we were delighted at the immense panorama which lay at our feet as we looked back. Looking away south-west we beheld the coast-line from the mouth of what our guides said was the Tampassuk river right down to Gaya Bay and Pulo Tiga, which was distinctly visible, the many-mouthed Menkabong river glistening like a silver net quite close to the coast-line. Looking south-east over a billowy sea of silvery clouds we saw a gigantic range of mountains, and from this the conical peak of Tilong rises through strata after strata of cloud, or stands out on a clear blue background of pure sky, according to the state of the atmosphere. This claims our interest as the beacon of a land unknown; and this magnificent peak, Tilong, is by repute as high, or even higher, than Kina Balu itself. Altogether we spent three days on the sides of Kina Balu collecting plants, flowers, and seeds; and after a life on the plains and among the coast mountains--hills compared with this grisly giant--we found the climate most deliciously cool and invigorating. Rain generally commenced about 3 P.M., and continued until eight, the remainder of the night being clear, bright if moonlight, and cool--so cool, indeed, as to make a good camp fire and woollen shirts two or three-fold and blankets very desirable. The mornings were generally misty, every leaf and branch dripping with the rain and heavy dews common here at night, especially during the wet season. About noon the sun was warm, and the temperature at 9,000 feet rises to 75° if the day is fine and dry. As I have elsewhere said, our Malay followers suffered much from what to them was bitter cold; indeed they seemed perfectly helpless, with scarcely energy to make a fire and cook their food. They have no notion of actively bestirring themselves in order to keep warm. Our food supply, too,--that is, the rice--ran short, and so the men were reduced to live on kaladi and sweet potatoes roasted in the embers and eaten with a little salt. Our Dusan guides also complained of the cold, and tried to hurry us in our descent; indeed at last they would wait no longer, and they slipped away, leaving us to reach their village alone as best we could. We were fully determined not to be defeated in our object, however, and keeping ahead of our own men we descended leisurely so as to gather plants by the way, until all had as much as they could possibly carry down. I carried my servant's load in order that he might carry a lot of rare specimens which I had secured for him in a handkerchief. The descent after the rain of the night before was difficult and dangerous, and we had a good many falls. Once I fell down a steep place a depth of about twenty feet, among shrubs and creepers, which saved me from serious injury. Mr. Veitch and myself, my "boy," and a solitary Labuan man, went on a-head of our main party, and just at nightfall discovered that we had lost our way. The right path lay across a clearing down which we turned instead of pushing across and striking the path beyond. We floundered along in the gloaming down several dangerous steeps and across a rocky stream, in crossing which I stepped incautiously on a slippery water-worn boulder, and became thoroughly submerged in the water, which being from the heights above is icy cold, at least it seems so after one has been used to the heat of the tropics. This increased my discomfort, and poor Mr. Veitch was but little better. Here we were at dark lost and benighted beside the rocky declivities of this mountain stream; but there was no help for it; and after vainly trying to strike a path, we gave up at the base of a large tree, and putting down our burdens, we resolved to pass the night here. To mend matters, it commenced to rain heavily about seven o'clock, and I am afraid we were not so happy as the mere possession of health and strength ought to have made us. We had no food except a couple of wet biscuits and about half a glass of brandy in a flask. These we shared, and perhaps they were sweeter than the choicest viands would have tasted had we been in dress clothes and in comfortable quarters. Then Mr. Veitch had a great find in his bag--a couple of cigars and a box of matches. Sitting in the smoking-room of a comfortable club, or in the billiard-room at home, one may smile at such a discovery; but, situated as we were, cold and wet, a cigar added much to our comfort. Our two followers tried to make a little shelter from the rain for themselves, but failed miserably. About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and we then tried to improve our position; for hitherto all we could do was to walk about around a large tree--a distance of a few yards only; for in the darkness we knew not what ugly falls might not await us if we strayed from our wretched camping-ground, which was wet and spongy under foot; and the leeches crawled up our legs and bled us to their hearts' content. We noticed luminous fungi on the rotten sticks at our feet glowing quite brightly, and the effect was weird and ghostly in the extreme. My "boy," quite by accident, had placed a couple of dry flannel shirts, a pair of trowsers, and a blanket, in the other man's basket, and so, after the rain ceased, I was able to put on a dry warm shirt and trowsers, a luxury I had not expected, and also to give Mr. Veitch a dry shirt and a share of my rug. We now sat down on some brushwood, and leaning back against the tree, fell asleep, and we did not wake until near sunrise. Thus ended one of the most dreary nights I ever spent in the Bornean woods. In the morning we retraced our steps across the rocky stream, and soon struck the right path for Kiau, but we had not gone far before we met "Kurow," the chief of our runaway guides, in a great state of excitement, coming in search of us. He brought us some fine langsat fruit in his bag--presumably a peace offering--and seemed rather surprised that we did not chide him for his desertion of the day before. As we arrived nearer the village we came across our men, armed with muskets, also in search of us, and the hilltop was covered with Kiau people, who appeared greatly concerned, and doubtless glad to see us safe and well. When we reached the house, everybody seemed glad to see our safe return, and sweet potatoes, maize, rice, and kaladi, were readily brought in by the villagers for ourselves and our men. "Musa" and the rest of our followers had arrived at Kiau soon after dark the night before. One man brought a basket of excellent langsat fruit, and a woman gave us two beautiful oranges from a tree near her door. They were quite yellow, with tender skins and sweet pulp, similar to those of the south of Europe, not green skinned, with tough desepiments, as are those of Labuan. I was much surprised at the oranges having grass-green skins when perfectly ripe in Singapore, and even the brittle skinned Mandarin variety had this peculiarity. Our guide, "Kurow," was twitted pretty much by his neighbours for having left us the day before, and at last he retired to his house evidently not well pleased with himself, and, I believe, not a little surprised at our treating the matter so lightly. We went out to a shady spot near the house to examine our plants and see that they were in good order, and we then rested all day. We were not altogether satisfied with our trip to the mountain, and resolved to start off to it again in the morning, but this time taking another path so as to reach the "Marie Parie" spur. We sent off for "Kurow," and, telling him our intentions, asked him to collect his followers and be in readiness to accompany us. The poor fellow was delighted at this sign of our confidence in him, and helped us zealously, enduring cold, rain, and waiting--to him meaningless, weary waiting--without a murmur. In the morning we crossed the hill behind the village, and fording the "Haya-Haya," "Dahombang," "Pino-Kok," and "Kina Takie" streams, we reached the foot of the "Marie Parie" spur. Now came a climb up a rocky pathway, besides which we noticed fine plants of Cypripedium Petreianum, Cystorchis variegata, and a lovely yellow flowered terrestrial orchid belonging to the genus Spathoglottis, but quite distinct from S. aurea. As we ascended, our path lay up through a belt of tall bamboos, and here two species of nepenthes were seen. One was the long, green pitchered kind, covered with purple blotches (N. Boschiana var. Lowii), and the other a tall growing species, bearing beautiful white pitchers, elegantly ewer-shaped, diaphanous like "egg shell" porcelain, and most daintily blotched with reddish crimson in a way quite unlike any other variety. This grew on both sides of the path, and climbed the trees to a height of forty or fifty feet. We reached the crest of the ridge about three o'clock, in a heavy drenching shower, the climate being similar to that of a warm autumn evening in a Devonshire wood. We slept under some overhanging rocks at an elevation of about 4,000 feet, having an under stratum of sticks and brushwood to keep our water-proof sheets off the wet ground. The air, even at this low elevation, was chilly during the night, and we found a fire and blankets acceptable comforts. Melastoma macrocarpa, bearing its large, rosy flowers, formed a large proportion of the brush around our camping ground. Here the large nepenthes were very fine; and a beautiful white flowered dendrobium grows among the bushes. It belongs to the nigro hirsute section, and has pseudo-bulbs five or six feet high. The blossoms are described by Mr. Low as being similar to those of D. formosum giganteum, but with a deep orange red blotch on the lip. Just above our camping ground, the long, red, pitchered Nepenthes Edwardsiana was very beautiful, growing up through the low jungle, its pitchers contrasting with the tufts of rich green moss which draped trunks and branches everywhere. N. Rajah was also abundant; and we noticed some immense urns depending from its great broad leaves, far finer, indeed, than those found at 9,000 feet elevation, on the more southern spur. That distinct and curious fern, Lindsaya Jamesonioides, grew here and there in the chinks of the serpentine rock, and a long-leaved insect-catching sundew (Drosera) was common in most places among the stones and herbage. After collecting what plants we desired, we had breakfast, and then commenced our return. We reached Kiau in about five hours, but some of our men did not come in until long after our arrival, as they had heavy loads to carry, and the clay paths were very slippery. At Kiau village, and on the slopes of the mountain itself, we spent eight days, and then came the weary march back to Gaya Bay, which, however, we accomplished in six days. When we reached the Datu's village, he gave us a fine goat, which our "boys" promptly slew for dinner, and, being young, it had a delicate mutton-like flavour, and we thought it a great treat after our hard fare. A present of a revolver and some cartridges delighted our host; and the next morning, having obtained another boat, and loaded the one we had, we pulled to Pangeran Rau's place, where we hired a prahu, and two days afterwards reached Labuan safely. During our journey to and from the mountain, we met occasional parties of natives from the far interior on their trading excursions, the women, as a matter of course, carrying the heaviest loads, while the men carried nothing, save a little food in a bag behind them, and their arms. Some had buffaloes with them. The women, as a class, are strong and healthy, with small hands and feet, and well-proportioned features--indeed, in many cases, the young girls are very pleasing in face and figure, and have lovely black hair, and the brightest of expressive black eyes. Early marriages, childbearing, hard labour, and exposure in the fields, however, soon make shrivelled leather-skinned old hags of them. Their drapery is nothing worth mentioning, and in such a climate but little is required. Their manners are gentle and dignified--often when we met them quite suddenly they showed no surprise, even though they had never seen a white man before. They make affectionate wives, and tender mothers--indeed, I never saw a child beaten or chided roughly during my stay in the island. In the capital and elsewhere on the coast, young Malay women are almost invariably kept secluded from the gaze of strangers; but here among these hills inland, as elsewhere among the aboriginals proper, we found the women enjoying perfect freedom with the men. While staying at these villages, all the women and girls flocked to see us, and watched us eat and drink with evident interest. The young girls were especially confident, and formed laughing groups around us, chatting to each other in low, modulated tones, and evidently comparing notes on their observations. They frequently brought us little presents of fruit, and eggs, or fowls, and were delighted with the needles and thread, looking-glasses, and white cloth which we gave them in return. Some of the younger girls were much handsomer than the Malays, and stood lovingly together as they quizzed us, often resting their plump little arms or their cheeks on each other's necks or shoulders as they watched our every movement. Looking-glasses were considered fashionable at the time of our visit, and we could have disposed of many more with advantage had we had them with us. Combs were not so desirable, since these are made by their husbands or sweethearts; and they are often very prettily decorated with carved work. Some of the men seem "thoroughly domesticated," and I saw them affectionately nursing their naked little babies at night, or in the daytime, while mamma had gone to the field for food, or the forest for fuel. I particularly noticed the younger married men standing behind their nice little wives at night when we were at dinner. They folded their brown arms around their necks, and whispered loving gossip into their ears, evidently well contented with themselves and with each other; and, perhaps, their love is as real and as ardent and as true here as it is in high places where dress clothes are worn. The farther one travels, the more plainly does one see how deep rooted and how world-wide are all the springs of human feeling, whether of love and joy, or death and sadness; in every land and in every breast is written the great truth, "One touch of nature makes the whole world kin." One night after dinner a bevy of dusky beauties had gathered around our mats, and to afford some amusement, I showed them several carte de visite portraits of friends which I had with me. They were particularly interested in that of one lady, and examined it very attentively; not a bead or button escaped their quick eyes; but they soon began asking questions. Was she married? How many children had she? Was she a good wife? I asked what they meant by the last question. "Well," they answered, "did she bring plenty of firewood and kaladi in? and could she clean padi (rice) well?" Thus a woman among these thrifty villagers earns her good name as a wife by her capacity for physical labour. This is also so among other savage races. The Indian girls on the north-west coast of North America in like manner endeavour to excel each other in the quantity of quamash (Camassia esculenta) roots they collect, their fame as future good wives depending on their activity in the Quamash plains. They were much interested in all particulars of dress as shown by the carte; but one girl regretted the absence of rattan coils around the stomach and "chawats" of thick brass wire on the wrists, and more to the like effect, all from the Kiau standpoint--for Kiau and its simple fashions are held to be inviolable. Kiau is all the world to them! The morning we left, I believe all were sorry to part with us, and they came to the top of the hill to see us off. On loading our men, we found that we had four men's loads of plants more than our men could carry, and so we engaged some of the Kiau villagers to carry them for us as far as Bawang. We had a good deal of talking, and a grand display of red cloth and brass wire on the hillside, but eventually "Musa" concluded the bargain, and paid over the goods in advance, as is the general custom here. After receiving the goods, they coolly told us they should not go on with us, as we walked very slow, but that they would start next day, adding, that they should reach Bawang before we did. We showed no signs of wishing otherwise, but passed on with our followers, after having told the Kiau men to water the plants well as they crossed the streams, and to protect them from the sun by means of large leaves, all of which they did; and when we reached Bawang, there, sure enough, were our plants, all safe and in good condition. After reaching Labuan, both Mr. Veitch and myself had bad attacks of intermittent fever, the result of chilling exposure in wet clothes, and ill-cooked food, accompanied by more than ordinary exertions. Fortunately our long and difficult journey had been interrupted by nothing serious, and we were glad to see our native followers safe home again. Certainly one of them had a nasty fall from a rocky path near Bawang and cut his head badly, but he was a plucky Brunei man, and soon overgot his trouble. Another of our fellows who had been trusted with a musket tried to fire it off after he had blocked up the barrel by pushing it into the ground accidentally! He succeeded in exploding the thing, and one of the fragments cut open his forehead, while another piece struck one of the bird-hunters on the arm. No serious damage was done. The road from Gaya Bay to Koung is so hilly and difficult for loaded men to traverse, that I determined that if ever I went to Kina Balu again I would take the Tampassuk route. This I did on a subsequent occasion, but during the wet season, when fording, the swollen rivers presented great difficulties and dangers. During the dry season, or say, in January or February, this route would be by far the best to follow. CHAPTER VI. LABUAN ISLAND. Labuan--Inhabitants--Industries--Coal mines--Revenues and acreage--Oil spring--Climate--Rare ferns--Tropical flowering trees--Fruit culture--Birds--Pitcher-plants--Snakes--Sun birds--Large spiders--Ants--Salt making--Pratchan--Old gardens--Lizards--Mason wasp--A favourite horse--Annual games on the plain--Church--River travel. Labuan is one of the smallest and least well known of all British Colonies. This island was ceded to Great Britain by the Sultan of Borneo in 1847, and the year afterwards a settlement was established here, the late Sir James Brooke, K.C.B., being the first governor. Its area is 19,350 acres, and it is situated in lat. 5° 20' N., being about six miles off the nearest point of Borneo, and about 700 miles from Singapore. When ceded it was uninhabited and very unhealthy, but now contains about 5,000 inhabitants, mostly Kadyans and Malays, and by clearing and draining the climate is improved. The principal traders and artificers are Chinese. Chinese coolies are imported as labourers. A few Klings or Bengalees also live here. The main object of the colony was the suppression of piracy once rife along the coast, and the working of the coal measures which exist at the northern point of the island. The quality of the coal obtainable here is very good, but the output hitherto has been comparatively small, owing to a series of adverse circumstances. At present the mines are deserted, the company having discontinued mining operations. There is a good harbour at the only town, Victoria, and this place forms a convenient coaling station for H.M. gunboats on the China station, which cruise in these seas. The trade is mainly in the hands of the Chinese, who purchase the native products of Borneo, Palawan, and the Sulu Archipelago, which is brought hither in native prahus or boats. Some of the traders also make voyages to different parts of the Bornean coast to collect sago, gutta, beeswax, edible swallows' nests, camphor, trepang or beche de mer, mother-o'-pearl shell, and other produce, in return for which they barter cloth or cotton goods, opium and tobacco, muskets, ammunition, gongs, and crockeryware, spirits, tea and provisions, mostly derived from Singapore. The ss. "Cleator" carries the mails and most of the imports and exports between Singapore and this port, and affords the only regular means of transport. This vessel makes the voyage between Labuan and Singapore every twenty-one days, calling at this port on her way to Brunei. The main industries of the colony are the coal-mines, sago-washing factories, and the culture of rice, fruit, and other food products. The mines were leased by the Government to the Oriental Coal Company of London and Leith, at a yearly rental of £1000 a year for mining privileges and the right of cutting timber free of duty. £50 annually was also paid for a wharf and store sheds at the harbour, a distance of nine miles from the mines. The coal was brought down in large sailing boats or lighters, manned by Malays. In 1876 only 5824 tons were obtained, but additional workings have been opened and alterations were made by the Company's manager, Mr. A. Boosie, which it was thought would have facilitated a much larger output. The greatest drawbacks to successful mining operations were the enormous rainfall and its effects on the workings, and the inefficiency of native labour. Chinese coolies have now, however, been to a great extent substituted for the Malays previously employed. The ships of H.M. Navy have a prior claim to coal at £1 0s. 6d. per ton, ordinary trading vessels pay a trifle more. The revenues of the Colony are derived from various monopolies, such as the sale of opium, tobacco, spirits, fish, arms, and ammunition, the rental or sale of lands, and a per centage on all timber cut in the Colony. In 1876 the opium farmer paid £2,687 10s. for the exclusive right of importing, preparing, selling, or exporting opium in the island. Tobacco produced £750; spirits, £300; fishmarket, £550; pawnbroking, £112 10s.; licences to sell arms and ammunition, £65. A duty of ten per cent. is payable on the value of all timber cut on crown lands, except by the Coal Company, who, as already stated, have the right, free. The estimated acreage of the colony is 19,350 acres, of which 1,738 acres are supposed to be cultivatable, and 17,612 uncultivatable. Field labour, the felling of timber, &c., is carried on by Chinese and Malays, who receive 25 to 30 cents per day; carpenters, 50 cents; blacksmiths, 60 cents. The land under padi (rice) cultivation is about 11,000 acres, and consists of well watered alluvial plains near the centre of the island. Cocoanut palms and other fruit trees, 550 acres; sugarcane and vegetable gardens, about 50 acres. The Chinese here, as elsewhere eastward, monopolize the vegetable-growing industry. The largest cocoanut plantation and oil factory is on Pulu Daát, a large islet lying between Labuan and the Bornean coast. The total number of cocoanut trees in the colony is estimated at 200,000. The nuts, retail, either green or ripe, fetch two or three cents each, and the oil obtained from them fetches the uniform price of £33 per ton. A young plantation of the African oil-palm (Elæis guineensis) has been established on Pulu Daát, and the experiment promises to be a successful one. The little coarse uncrystallised sugar made in the colony fetches about 50 cents per gantang, a measure holding about 7lb. Padi, or rice in husk, fetches about £1 10s. per 100 gantangs (6 cwts.). There are three sago washing works near Victoria Harbour, where the raw pulp, as brought from the Bornean coast, is hand-washed and sifted into the dry sago-flour of commerce. Some of the low-lying well watered or marsh-land has been planted with the sago-palm. A new fishmarket has been erected, and this building, together with the right of buying and selling all the fish caught, is let annually to the highest bidder with the other farms. No regular fisheries are organised, nor is any record kept of the quantity and description of fish supplied. It is estimated at about 1000 piculs. In the capture of fish along the coast, seine nets and "kelongs" or bamboo traps are used. In deep water a baited hook and line. An oil-spring exists in the forest, near the mines, at an elevation of 130 feet above the sea, the yield during wet season being about 12 gallons of petroleum every twenty-four hours. The highest land in the island is Bukit Kalám, 280 feet above sea level. The total area in scrubs and fern is 1000 acres, timber or forest about 300 acres. The quit-rents on lands sold for 999 years produce about £230 annually. It not being considered advisable to alienate any further crown lands at present on account of the low prices obtainable, the Government rice lands are let annually for prices varying from two to four shillings per acre. The edible fruits cultivated are fine oranges of several kinds, excellent pomoloes, Durian, mangoes, tarippe, rambutan, jack-fruit and champada, rose apples (jambosa), cocoanuts, mangosteen, rambi, bananas in variety, limes, guava, papaw, cashew nut, and several others, including the bread-fruit, baloonas, mambangan. The total revenue in 1877 was £7,490, the expenditure being £7,995. Imports, total value, £126,594, exports £112,996. Cattle and ponies are cheap--thus, good cows are worth £2 to £4 each; Shanghai sheep, £1 to £2; goats, 10s. each; ponies, £4 to £10. These last are imported from the Sulu Islands. Water buffaloes are generally used as draught animals, and are worth from £4 to £6 each. The whole island is tolerably flat, and at one time was entirely covered with forests, yielding fine timber. Of late years, however, jungle fires have been frequent during the dry season; and at the present time but little old forest remains. The climate is now generally supposed to be drier and more healthy than formerly; but the flora has suffered much, many orchids and other rare plants, formerly found here in abundance, being now quite extinct. After the rains a lovely little blue burmannia (B. coelestis), and a tiny sundew become very pretty on the plains. Yellow flowered xyrids and eriocaulons grace the wet ditches, and the orange orchards are redolent with perfume, the trees being then in bloom, and at night the gardens are illuminated with fire-flies. I resided for some time in a house which had been occupied by Mr. Hugh Low, the garden and fruit orchard of which afforded the most delightful walks morning and evening. I never saw the elk's-horn fern (Platycerium grande) so luxuriant anywhere as it was on the boles of some large orange-trees here. The barren fronds were broad, like the horns of the giant Irish elk; and the more slender fertile ones drooped on all sides from the base of the nest formed by the leafy expansions. I measured some of these fertile fronds, and found them fully seven feet in length. These splendid ferns (one of which is here represented in my sketch), and the choicest of epiphytal orchids, which had been planted among the branches of the trees, made a walk amongst them most enjoyable. I thought at the time I should never like to see orchids, and other rare exotics stewed up in a glass shed again, after seeing them thus luxuriant in the open air. The flowering trees, many of which have been introduced into the gardens, are very lovely a week or two after the rains. Poinciana regia, two or three species of cassia, and Lagerstroemia regina, and L. indica, with white lilac or rosy flowers, are common. Different kinds of jasmines, ixoras, and hibiscus flower freely nearly all the year, as also does Thunbergia laurifolia, which drapes trees, and fences, the fire-blossomed pomegranate, the fragrant oleander; there are also pools filled with the sunshade-like leaves and rosy flowers of the Sacred Lotus, the beauty of which rivals even the celebrated Lotus pools of Japan. One or two honey-suckles and Jasminum grandiflorum form tangled masses in the hedges, the pearly flowers of Pancratium zeylanicum spring up from the grass, sheltered here and there by caladium leaves, and a scarlet hippeastrum forms glowing masses in old gardens, and on waste places where houses have once been situated. Where many indigenous plants have died out, this hippeastrum has become naturalised: the light sandy soil and hot sun seem to suit its requirements; and it increases so freely, that a barrow-load of bulbs might be dug from a square yard of earth. Another introduced plant, perfectly naturalised here, as also in Penang and Singapore, is the dwarf and acrid Isotoma longiflora, which bears snowy-white long-tubed flowers. The purple-flowered "Mudar" (Calotropis gigantea), and the glorious mauve wreaths of Bougainvillea spectabilis, are in places very beautiful. The climate is hot, especially during the dry season; but about five o'clock P.M., when the land breeze sets in, it is cool and agreeable. Mangoes, especially the fine Manilla varieties, and pomoloes, grow well in the gardens and orchards, as also do oranges of various kinds. The soil is so poor, however, that in order to obtain fine fruit, it is necessary to keep a herd of cattle, and to fold them at night, for the sake of a good supply of manure. Where the trees are planted on the grass, a circle beneath each is cultivated with the "chunkal," or heavy iron hoe; and this is regularly manured and watered. It is quite usual to see the boles of mango and some other fruit trees gashed with blows from a chopper at intervals, an operation analogous to the ringing or strangulation formerly practised in English gardens before root-pruning came into fashion. This is done to induce the trees to bear fruit earlier, and more abundantly. There is only one species of bird endemic, a lively black and white one (Copsychus amoenus), which frequents gardens near the bungalows, and sings very sweetly during wet weather; indeed, it was the only Eastern song bird which reminded me of our dappled thrush at home. Of eagles and fish hawks there are several species. Tern are seen in flocks on neighbouring sand-banks. Golden plover and snipe abound on the plain near the shore, and there two or three sand pipers and rails. The white crane, or "padi bird," is common; and the long-pinioned frigate bird wheels overhead, far out of gun-shot, diving now and then into the sea after food with wonderful velocity. The mellow whistle of the mino bird is one of the most familiar sounds of the forest, especially when the fruit of the wild figs ripen, and then white, large blue, and pretty little green tree pigeons of many kinds appear, attended by flocks of glossy, red-eyed starlings. The "chuck, chuck" of the goat-sucker (Caprimulgus macrurus) is one of the most familiar sounds during moonlight nights. At daybreak the chatter of the Java sparrows assures one of its being high time to rise. Cuming's mound bird (Megapodius Cumingi) is found in Labuan, but is more common on the islets of Kuraman, where its nests are met with in mounds of earth, three to four feet in height, and twelve feet in circumference. Even the Nicobar pigeon visits this island; and a solitary hoopoo was shot there during my visit. Two species of great beaked hornbills inhabit the forest; and there are three or four species of swallows. One of the prettiest of all the small birds is a long-tailed green and brown fly-catcher, which might easily be mistaken for a swallow, so swift and graceful is its flight. A large red kingfisher (Halcyon caromanda), found here, builds its nest in a peculiar manner, as described by Mr. Sharpe, in Proc. Zool. Soc., 1879, part ii., p. 331:-- "The nest is said to be pendulous, and invariably to be accompanied in the same mass by a bee, which is peculiarly vicious, so that the nest can only be robbed after destroying the bees." The interior of the island is flat and marshy; and here the soil being deep and alluvial, it is well adapted for rice; and the wet patches beside the streams suit the sago palm well. In the patches of low jungle beside the roads three or four species of pitcher plants abound, rooting into the wet, sandy peat earth, and climbing up the shrubby undergrowth in the most luxuriant and graceful manner. These nepenthes stems are wonderfully tough, and are used as withes, and as a substitute for rattan cane in tying fence timbers together. More rarely they are used in basket-work. The kinds most common in Labuan are N. gracilis, several varieties, N. nivea, and N. ampullaria. There are five or six species of terrestrial orchids; and from trees on Dr. Ley's estate plants of the new genus astrostruma (A. spartiodes, Benth.) were gathered for the first time. Alligators infest the streams, and shallow sea, near the town of Victoria; and now and then a native is carried off. One of these large brutes actually tried to carry off a pony one night during my stay. Snakes are plentiful. A deadly green snake is common on the Bird Island, just off the mouth of the harbour, and great brown rock snakes abound. One night a Kling man brought a black snake, six feet long, tied to a stick, which he said he had caught up a cocoa-nut tree, and added that it had just swallowed a bird. It was purchased; and in the morning, when it was being skinned, the "boy" came to say that it had young ones inside it. This we did not believe; and, on going to see it, we found that the "young one" was a snake, two feet long, of another species, very common in the island, which had been swallowed head foremost, as usual, and was in part digested. The large snake was so fat, that hunger could not have prompted it to swallow a smaller brother; and so I more than suspect that Malaysia can now boast of a snake-eating snake, as well as British India, whence one of these cannibals, the ophiophagus, was introduced to the Zoological Gardens a few years ago. A large boa, ten to twenty feet long, and as thick as one's arm, is common in the jungle, and often commits depredations amongst badly-housed poultry, as also does the iguana. A singular sluggishness characterised all the snakes I saw; and as many of those said to be deadly by the natives rest on the trees, rather than on the ground, this may account for the extreme rarity of death from snake-bites in this part of the East. A slender green species, nearly six feet in length, infests the fig-trees when in fruit; and, twisting its tail around a branch, it coils itself up ready to spring at any bird unwary enough to venture sufficiently close. One of these I saw shot; and it had a double row of hooked fangs in its wide set jaws, admirably adapted to hold anything once within its grasp. Perhaps the most lovely and interesting of all, however, are the sun-birds, which are here in the East the representatives of the true humming-birds of the Western tropics. "They are ethereal, gay, and sprightly in their movements, flitting briskly from flower to flower, and assuming a thousand lovely and agreeable attitudes. As the sunbeams glitter on their bodies, they sparkle like so many precious stones, and exhibit at every turn a variety of bright and evanescent hues. As they hover around the honey-laden blossoms, they vibrate their tiny pinions so rapidly, as to cause a slight whirring sound, but not so loud as the humming noise produced by the true humming birds. Occasionally they may be seen clinging by their feet and tail busily engaged in rifling the blossoms of the trees. I well remember a certain dark-leaved tree with scarlet flowers, that especially courted the attention of the sun-birds; and about its blossoms they continually darted with eager and vivacious movements. With this tree they seemed particularly delighted, clinging to the slender twigs, and coquetting with the flowers, thrusting in their slender curved beaks, and probing with their brush-like tongues for insects and nectar, hanging suspended by their feet, throwing back their little glossy heads, chasing each other on giddy wing, and flirting and twittering, the gayest of the gay. Some were emerald-green, some vivid violet, and others yellow, with a crimson wing." Sir Jas. Emerson Tennent describes them as being common in Ceylon, where they frequent the gardens, and rifle the blossoms of the passifloras, and other flowers; at other times searching for small insects and spiders, and again pluming themselves, and warbling their pleasing songs on the pomegranate-trees. "If two happened to come to the same flower--and from their numbers this has often occurred--a battle always ensued, which ended in the vanquished bird retreating from the spot with shrill piping cries, while the conqueror would take up his position upon a flower or stem, and swinging his little body to and fro, till his coat of burnished steel gleamed and glistened in the sun, pour out his song of triumph." The rich plumage of the dainty little male birds is only seen during the breeding season, after which they moult, and are as unattractive as their mates. Two tiny eggs are laid in a wee nest, which is suspended from a twig, or sometimes the stout web of a large spider is made to bear the little shelter for eggs and young. The spiders in the jungle, and old buildings of the East, are numerous; and some are of an alarming size, but of beautiful colours. One large, black, yellow-spotted species measures six or eight inches across its extended legs, and its web is held in position by grey lines, almost as stout as fine sewing-cotton, and strong enough to pull one's hat off. It is a very disagreeable sensation to feel them across one's face, as often happens in a little used jungle-path. Ants are particularly plentiful; and the white termites throw up mounds of red earth, five or six feet in height, and often do much damage by burrowing into the piles of houses, and other buildings. The species of ants vary much in size. One is a tiny red fellow, but little larger than a cheese-mite, and scarcely visible; others are black, their bodies being an inch in length. Some species bite very sharp if disturbed, as I found to my cost, when scrambling about over the branches of trees after orchids, and other plants. There is one species of nepenthes (N. bicalcarata), having large red urns, the stalks of which are invariably perforated by a species of ant; and I found a flowering shrub on the Tawaran river, the stems of which were swollen and hollow just below the flower-heads, this being due to the punctures of ants; a remarkably curious gouty-stemmed plant, parasitical on low jungle-trees in Labuan--myrmecodia--actually depends for its existence on the bite of a species of ant. The seed germinates on the bark of the foster-tree; and when the seedling has attained a certain height, the growth ceases, and it remains stationary, until the necessary bite is given, when the stem swells out at the base, and leaves and flowers are produced in due course. If not thus punctured, the young plant dies. The gouty or swollen stem is hollow, and forms a refuge for the ants, which in their turn may afford it some needful protection, since they rush out boldly to attack trespassers who disturb the tree on which their fostered-shelter plant grows. One day, as I emerged from the forest on the western shore of the island, I came across a young Kadyan engaged in making salt. The process, as carried out by him, was very simple. A heap of drift wood is collected, and of this a fire is made, so as to secure a good supply of ashes. The ashes are placed in a small tub, and sea-water is filtered through them, so as to catch up whatever salt they contain. It now remains for the water to be evaporated, so as to leave the salt. To this end evaporating-pans, or rather receptacles, are neatly made from the sheaths of the nebong palm, fastened into shape by slender wooden skewers. Two logs are then laid parallel to each other, and a foot or fifteen inches apart, and over these the pans are placed close together, so as to form a rude kind of flue, in the which a fire of light brushwood is lighted, and very soon afterwards the salt may be observed falling to the bottom of the evaporators. It was a very hot morning, and the heat in the close forest where I had been exploring was so intense, that I was thankful to reach the coast and feel the delicious breezes which came from the open sea. The beach to the westward of the island is mainly of firm yellow sand, but here and there paved more or less thickly with honey-combed coral rocks and pebbles. The outer edge of the old forest nearest the shore is fringed with tall casuarina trees, here called "Kayu Aru." The Malays have some legends connected with this tree, and can rarely be induced to cut it down, although the tough light timber is well suited for some particular purposes. Under a group of these trees a large company of Kadyans were encamped, and busily engaged making "Pratchan." This is a reddish product made of prawns. Some of the men were out in canoes just beyond the shallow reefs catching the tiny fish, while others and the women and girls were preparing them on shore. The fish are jammed up in troughs formed of hollow trunks of trees by beating wooden pestles, and when finished resembles a stiff red paste, which is afterwards packed in circular palm-leaf bags or baskets for the Chinese markets. Some of the fish were being dried by being spread out in the sun on mats. They were bright as burnished silver, and in flavour reminded one of whitebait. The price of the red paste, or prepared "Pratchan," is about three dollars per picul, and the dried article fetches ten or twelve cents per gantang. Their encampment of yellow palm-leaf mats and bamboo poles formed a pretty rural scene beneath the tall trees which overhung the yellow sands, and the dusky limbs and faces, and the bright-coloured "sarongs" worn by the women of the party, added much to the picturesque view as seen beneath a blue and cloudless sky. I and Mr. A. Cook visited the oil springs, which are situated in a shady glade in the forest two or three miles from the coal-mines. All the evidence of the old borings we saw was an old door and a rude trough, into which the oil-surfaced water rises as it wells up slowly from the rocks below. No use is now made of this oil, except by the Kadyans and other natives, who utilise it now and then in the manufacture of torches. The odour of the oil is distinctly perceptible near the spring, and the oil itself covers the surface of the little stream as it flows seawards. Before the spring was reached we passed through an open clearing of a hundred of acres or more covered with grass, on which a few milch cattle belonging to some of the Kling residents were grazing. We were surprised in one place to come across an old garden, of several acres in extent, containing mango, banana, and other fruit trees, with here and there native huts, houses, and rice-barns all going to decay. A Kadyan, who overtook us just before we entered the forest, told us it was an old village belonging to his tribe, adding that they had abandoned it after their headman had died there. It is by no means unusual to find localities abandoned in this way in Borneo owing to the death of the principal man in the village, and when the rotten old palm-thatched houses have been eaten up by the luxuriant jungle which springs up around, the fruit-trees prosper and serve to mark the localities of former villages long after they themselves have vanished for ever. Here, as elsewhere in warm climates, the mosquito is of all animals the smallest and most troublesome to the weary traveller. Large moths flutter about the ceilings, especially on cold wet nights, and insect life of many kinds is attracted to the lamplight. In every house there is a colony of lively little drab-coloured lizards. They run very nimbly up the sides of the room and on the ceiling, keeping a sharp look-out the while for their supper of moths and flies. The Malays have a proverb, "That even a lizard gives the fly time to pray." This has been derived from the peculiar manner in which this tiny Saurian "goes for" its quarry. On seeing a fly it darts at it swiftly, but when within an inch or two of it suddenly stops itself and pauses several seconds ere the fatal spring is made and the fly seized. Now and then the lizards lose their hold of the ceiling and come on the table with a "flop," but this is a rare occurrence. One of the most common and interesting of the domestic insects is the "mason wasp," a large yellow species which constructs a series of mud cells or a gallery of earth against the woodwork of the verandah or roof. In each cell, as completed, an egg is deposited, and ere closing up the cavity it is stuffed full of green caterpillars, which are then sealed up alive to serve as food for her larva when hatched out. The big black carpenter bees are also often seen examining the woodwork of the house or verandah, and on finding a piece in suitable condition they bore a clean hole into it in which to deposit their eggs. These two insects are highly interesting--a mason and a carpenter--and both do "worke moste excellently well." Native houses and gardens are dotted pretty freely about the island, and there are some interesting walks. I was enabled to explore the island pretty well, in which work the Hon. Dr. Leys very kindly assisted me by the loan of his favourite horse "Joseph." This animal was the most gentle and tractable creature imaginable, and admirably accustomed to jungle travelling, since he would go anywhere among trees or bushes, and might be trusted to stand quietly if tied; or he would follow one like a dog if loose. He was of Australian breed, and had his faults too. At the "whisk" of a whip or stick he was inclined to bolt, and once threw me pretty heavily when frightened in that way. Another trick he had was to stop suddenly at any place where he had turned off the road, or had been tied before, and as he would stop short or turn off thus suddenly when at full gallop, the consequences which sometimes resulted from such freaks may be readily imagined. With all his vagaries, however, he was a sleek and loveable creature; and I once saw the little daughter of the Doctor's Malay syce or groom lift up one of his hind legs when in the stable, at the same time telling her little group of dusky playfellows how very vicious he was (eine kudah jahat--jahat banyiak skali, etu lah!). "Joseph" was the swiftest animal in the island, and rigorously excluded from competing at the races held on the plain by the shore every New Year's Day. These annual races and sports are much appreciated both by Europeans and natives, and they afford the only general holiday in which both natives and Europeans mingle during the year. The native canoe races in the harbour are a speciality, the Malays and Brunei men being here seen in their native element. The "tug of war" between Malays and Chinese is also an amusing feature, while all are interested in the performance of the ponies and in the European athletic sports. A palm-thatched erection beneath the casuarina trees, near Ramsay Point, does duty as a grand stand and refreshment bar, and from the slight elevation, it affords an excellent view of the dusky but smiling faces and parti-coloured costumes of the natives and Chinese. All the native beauties are present, and glimpses of bright expressive eyes, coal-black hair secured with silver pins, and brilliant sarongs beneath neat cool-looking sacques meet one at every turn. Here and there the sparkle of jewellery and the glitter of bangles meet the eye, and on all sides the lavish display of pearly teeth and the ripple of merry laughter is seen and heard. A dinner at Government House, to which almost all the Europeans in the island, or from the gunboat which may happen to be in harbour, are invited, winds up this gala day of the opening year. There is a neat little wooden church here on the hill behind Government House, and there is a service once or twice every third year, when the Lord Bishop of Sarawak visits this part of his diocese. From some of the elevated portions of the island beautiful views are obtainable, with the blue mountains of Borneo towering skywards in the distance; and from the verandah of the manager's house at the coal-mines at the northern end of the island, Kina Balu may be seen quite plainly at sunrise and sunset during clear weather; and although more than a hundred miles away, its topmost crags stand out clear and sharp, and are tinged with the most beautiful tints of purple and gold by the rising or the setting sun. It was from Labuan that my visits to the Bornean coast and to Sulu were made. Some of these adventurous wanderings were pleasant, others the reverse. The following is a short account of a boat journey made by myself and Mr. Peter Veitch, its object being to obtain pitcher plants (Nepenthes bicalcarata), Burbidgea nitida, Pinanga Veitchii, Cypripedium Lawrenceanum, and other beautiful fine-foliaged plants and orchids:-- "Towards the noon of a hot day in January 1878--a day hot even for the tropics--two Veitchian travellers in North-western Borneo, with their native contingent of guides, boatmen, and carriers, were descending one of the most lovely of all the rivers in the island. The water was clear and smooth--so clear and so smooth that the great nipa leaves, which arched gracefully out from the banks and laved their ends in the stream, were reflected in the water as clearly as if in a mirror. The boatmen were in good spirits, for there was but little work for their paddles, so they chewed their betel-nut and limed pepper leaves contentedly, or rolled up a little tobacco, cigarette-like, in wrappers made of the young leaves of Nipa fruticans, and smoked in a silence only broken by low laughter and sentences murmured in the most musical of tongues. The river banks were clothed with forest trees, as also was the rising ground behind, and where the river was shallow mangrove trees, thickly interlaced, took the place of the big fruited nipa. On the lower trees near the fringe of the forest coelogynes, dendrobes, bolbophyllums, and other orchids--not often beautiful as that word is too often understood--clothed the branches; the tiny Davallia parvula, D. heterophylla, and D. pedata--all modest little species of ferns--were also seen on tree trunks or on rocks, and on the outer branches far overhead Platycerium biforme made itself a home, its fertile fronds drooping four or five feet below the cluster of barren ones. For company, but never at so great a height, varieties of Neottopteris nidus avis, or an allied species, were seen forming nests of glossy broadly strap-shaped fronds often of great length. Of palms the 'Nebong' (Oncosperma filamentosum) and the unique red-stemmed 'Malawarin' (which long defied Eastern collectors who wished to introduce it to Europe) were most beautiful. The former produces an excellent 'cabbage,' as good as seakale when well cooked, and its old stems are generally employed as piles by the Malays, who almost always erect their palm-thatched 'atap' houses over the water of river or sea. "Bird-life generally was dozing--the birds were enjoying their noontide siesta in the shady trees. The handsome Bornean pheasants, the 'Argus,' the 'Fireback,' and the 'Bulwer' with its pure snowy tail of blackcock-like shape, were alike unseen and unheard. Now and then the deep rich and mellow whistle of the 'Mino' bird or Javanese 'Grackle' reached us, and a whole colony of large blue, and of pretty little greyish green, yellow-winged pigeons--Carpophagi--were surprised on a fig tree in fruit as the canoe shot around a sudden bend in the stream. Of the seven or eight species of hornbills known to inhabit these groves we saw not one--indeed our view of the birds would have been but meagre but for the apparition of a black darter with only its head or neck above the water, in which attitude its resemblance to a snake is well nigh perfect. A few kingfishers braved the sun and flitted alongside the nipa leaves, or flew rapidly across stream like clusters of jewels endowed with life and motion. Scarcely a sound disturbed the quietude and beauty of such a tropical scene, except that now and then for no very apparent reason the boatmen made a spurt with their paddles, any little extra exertion in this way being often accompanied by a plaintive song in chorus--melody in perfect keeping with a wildly natural albeit lovely spot. At one well-remembered bend of the glassy stream the men had been directed to stop awhile, and a few dexterous strokes of the paddle on the part of a handsome young Kadyan man named 'Moumein,' who acted as steersman, sent the canoe beneath the arching nipa plumes to a bare spot where it was possible to land. The wet branches of a low mossy tree were covered with the elegant little Davallia parvula, among which grew a cirrhopetalum only about two inches in height, and bearing little purple flowers in semi-circular whorl-like tufts at the apices of tiny scapes. On sandstone rocks near at hand the handsome Dipteris Horsfieldii was abundant, its stout rhizomes creeping over the nearly bare wet rock, and adhering so firmly by its tiny rootlets that it was difficult to displace. [4] Above one's head grew the great glossy green umbrella-like fronds, borne aloft on stipes varying from two to eight feet in length. Truly a noble fern--alas! how difficult to cultivate. At the time I lived in the locality in which it is found in the utmost luxuriance, I read of the plant being exhibited in London and elsewhere, but each successive report of it unfortunately recorded its decadence. This and the glorious Matonia pectinata--also Bornean, although first found together with our old friends Cypripedium barbatum, Nepenthes sanguinea, and Rhododendron jasminiflorum, on Mount Ophir, in Malacca--are two of the most noble of all ferns, rivalling the palms indeed in stately beauty and substance of frond-tissue. How unfortunate, then, is it that both so persistently resist the efforts alike of collectors and cultivators. As one of the two travellers before-mentioned I had previously visited the spot where we had now landed, and after a long walk through the tall forests, which are carpeted in moist places and near streams by lovely steel-blue aspleniums and lindsayas, and also by the freshest and most luxuriant of selaginellas, had, after ascending a sloping and rather dry hill-side, come upon a plant which I saw at a glance was zingiberaceous, but it was so distinct in port and flower to anything that I had previously seen that I sent roots of it to Chelsea, and a few of these fortunately survived. Its fate was not known to us at the time we again visited the spot, and so the object in again running the canoe among the nipa plumes at this place was to obtain a fresh supply. I shall long remember this second journey to collect Burbidgea nitida, since I was ill with fever at the time, and on Mr. Peter Veitch devolved the duty of a long tramp through the tall forest; past numerous felled gutta-yielding trees (Isonandra sp.?), and up the hill slope beyond, until just below the rocky summit, this plant is found at a place called the 'Devil's House' ('Satan punya ruma') where are some dark deep holes in the face of perpendicular rocks, frequented by the swallows which build the edible nests so highly valued by the rich Chinese. The burbidgea grows on low wet sandstone boulders, on which their rhizomes and roots form a perfect mat, and among the plants as thus elevated decayed leaves and other forest débris is blown by winds or washed by rains. Although growing in rich shady forest, and subjected to a heavy rainfall, and high, albeit fresh and often windy atmosphere, the plants rarely exceed a yard in height. To this place Mr. Veitch went with a body of trusty natives, and many bundles of the plants were brought back, some of them fine masses of twenty or thirty stems, each having recently borne a large cluster of its rich, orange-coloured flowers. "While Mr. Veitch was away, my Chinese boy, 'Kimjeck,' got out the cooking utensils to prepare dinner on the shore, and the men who stayed behind amused themselves by looking for flowers ('cheri bunga') in the low forest and on the sandstone rock near our landing-place. I had to lie in the boat beneath the awning, feeling very sick, and with a splitting headache--feverish symptoms which all travellers in tropical forests alike must suffer. I was just dozing off to sleep when I heard much yelling, and my boy, who had joined the men, returned down the jungle path at full speed, shouting 'Ular! Ular! Tuan! Sayah mow etu snapang lakas skali!' 'Trima kasi!' he ejaculated, as he snatched my gun and disappeared with the agility of a young goat. The gist of the matter was, he had seen a snake and was off to shoot it. After listening for ten minutes to the most deafening shouts and yells, mingled with many ejaculations of advice and caution, and the reports of both barrels echoing through the forest, I was rather disappointed to see them return with a small snake, not larger than the English viper. On my expressing my surprise, and observing that, by the noise, I thought it was a snake big enough to swallow a buffalo, the men all agreed that what it lacked in size was amply compensated for by its fatal bite--or, as they expressed it, 'if that snake bit a man he need not trouble about food any more, as he would have no time to pray.' "The Muruts have a great love for gong music; and now and then a cheap German gun, or old Tower musket, is obtained from Chinese traders. Spears, blow-pipes, krisses or parongs (swords), and their ghastly baskets of human skulls, form their only accumulated wealth. These heads are used to ornament their dwellings at their periodical seasons of feasting, and when illuminated by the flickering glare of 'dammar' gum torches the effect is melodramatic in the extreme. It was rather difficult to make any use of these Muruts as collectors--they showed no powers of discrimination whatever, while the Kadyans, on the other hand--who are also aboriginals, but have mixed much with the dominant Malays, by whom they were years ago converted to the faith of Islam--showed great aptitude, and were of real service; and I shall long retain pleasant memories of some of the Kadyan villagers, especially 'Moumein,' of Meringit, who received me into the little village he had founded with every demonstration of friendship, and rendered me much intelligent assistance for many weeks. Of Malays generally one may say that they live by lying and thieving in one form or another, but the aboriginal races of Borneo, like the Papuans whom Goldie met inland in New Guinea, are gentle and hospitable to peaceably disposed strangers, and it will be a great pity to see them exterminated in the way their prototypes, the Incas of Peru, and the Red Men of the West, have been." CHAPTER VII. BEAUTIFUL BORNEO. Borneo--Wild animals--the Malays--Poetry--Romances--Dewa Indra --Native government--Pile dwellings--Intermarriage--Language-- Clothing--Courtship--Marriage--Inland tribes--Land culture-- Native villages--Food products--Textile fabrics--Bark cloth --Native women--Climate--Native produce--Kayan weapon--Rivers --Gambling--Opium smoking. Borneo, the beautiful--the "garden of the sun"--is the third largest island in the world, and boasts a much larger area than that occupied by the British Isles. The equator divides it, and the climate is, perhaps, that most suitable for vegetation of any other, being uniformly hot and humid all the year round. There are no volcanoes, the tiger is unknown, and it is the only habitat of the wild elephant in the Malay Archipelago. It is also remarkable as being the home of the wild man of the forests, or the "orang utan" of the Malays. Alligators abound in the rivers, and are the most dangerous of the wild animals. Snakes exist plentifully, and in great variety, but death from snake-bites is very rare. The two-horned rhinoceros, wild cattle, pigs in abundance, and several species of deer are known. The human inhabitants may be roughly divided into two races, the Malays and the Borneans, or aboriginals. The origin of both types is obscure. The Malays, however, are immigrants who inhabit the coasts of all the large Malay islands where, as here in Borneo, they have long held the dominant power. Some believe them to have originally been the descendants of Arabs who settled in the Celebes long before the Dutch became rulers in these seas, and this view gains some support from the fact of the Arabic character being used in writing, and their titles as Sultan, hadji, and sherrif, are of Arabic origin. They all profess Islam. The Bornean Malays may be said to have but little literature: the Koran, a few MS. poems, prayers, and tales are the only books generally seen in the island; but the people possess a vast amount of traditional lore, and many of their songs refer to the history of the country, the beauty of their women, or to the personal attributes and prowess of their former rulers. The following may be taken as a fair sample of Malayan poetry, and was originally published in the Asiatic Journal. Many of the tales and legends of the Malays are in blank verse, with a good many repetitions; and choruses are extremely popular, as also are extemporaneous vocal performances:-- "Cold is the wind, the rain falls fast, I linger, though the hour is past. Why come you not? whence this delay! Have I offended--say? "My heart is sad and sinking too; Oh! break it not! it loves but you! Come, then, and end this long delay, Why keep you thus away? "The wind is cold, fast falls the rain, Yet weeping, chiding, I remain, You come not still--you still delay! Oh, wherefore can you stay!" Malayan romances and minstrelsy are alike rich in imagery, as the following examples from Marsden's Malay Grammar will suffice to show:-- PASSAGES EXTRACTED FROM A ROMANCE, CONTAINING THE ADVENTURES OF INDRA LAKSANA, MAHADEWA, AND DEWA INDRA. "The prince then smiling (at the defiance sent by the enemy) went to soothe the affliction of his wife, and addressed her thus: 'O my love, thou who art to me the soul of my body, farewell! If perchance it should be thy husband's doom to fall (in the approaching battle), wilt thou cherish the memory of him with some degree of fond concern? Wilt thou wrap him in the scarf that binds thy waist? Wilt thou bathe his corpse with thy tears pure as the dew that hangs at the extremity of the grass? Wilt thou bestrew it with the flowers which now adorn the folds of thy hair?' The princess upon this wept the more abundantly, and embraced the neck of Indra Laksana, her arm enfolding it as the muskscented epidendrum entwines the angsuka tree (Pavetta indica). Such was the picture she exhibited, whilst Indra wiped away the tears from her eyes." "Upon the arrival of Indra Mahadewa at the palace, he seated himself by the side of the princess (his bride) and said to her, smiling, 'My love, my soul, what manner is it your intention to dispose of yourself, as I am obliged to proceed in the search of my brother? If it be your design to accompany me, you should lose no time in giving orders for the necessary preparations, as my departure must be immediate.' When the princess Seganda Ratna heard these words, she held down her head, and with glances sweet as the blue lotos flower in the sea of honey, replied, 'What plans, my love, am I, a young female, to pursue but those of my lord alone? For is not a wife under the guidance of her husband?' Indra Mahadewa showed his satisfaction at hearing these expressions from the princess, embraced and kissed her saying, 'Thy good sense adds grace to thy lovely features; thou shalt be the soother of my cares, my comforter, my companion.'" "Having spoken thus, Indra Mahadewa bent his course wherever his uncertain steps might lead. With an anxious heart and suffering from hunger and thirst, he penetrated into forests of great extent, ascended high mountains, and crossed wide plains. The sun was now set, and the moon rose in all her splendour as if to serve him for a torch. The prince, although fatigued, proceeded towards the hills of Indra Kila, and as he passed, the tender branches of the climbing plants waved with the wind and seemed inclined to follow the beautiful youth. As the dawn gradually arose, the clouds in the border of the sky assumed a variety of shapes, some having the form of trees, and some resembling animals; but the trees of the forest were still obscured from sight by the dense vapour rising from the dew. The light of the sun now began to appear, glancing from the interstices of the mountains like the countenance of a lovely virgin, whilst its beams shooting upwards exhibited the appearance of flags and banners waving in front of an army marching to battle." "The king was highly pleased with the manners and disposition of Dewa Indra, as well as with his graceful person and superior understanding. He said to him, 'Partake of betel, my son.' Dewa Indra having accordingly partaken, returned the betel-stand to the king, who thus addressed him: 'I have sent for you, my son, in order to make known to you a resolution taken by me some time since; that to the person who having counted out ten large measures of sesame seed and as many measures of sand, thoroughly blended together, should be able to separate the grains of the one from the grains of the other, and to complete the performance of the task in the course of a day; to such person alone should I give the hand of my daughter in marriage.' Dewa Indra smiled on hearing the king's words, knowing them to proceed from the artful suggestion of the princes (his rivals), and bowing replied, 'whatever may be your majesty's injunctions, your servant is ready to execute them.' The sand and the sesame seed being then provided and mixed together in the court before the palace, Dewa Indra made his obeisance, descended to the spot, and as he stood beside the heap, silently wished for aid from the king of the ants; when instantly the monarch made his appearance, followed by his whole army, consisting of the population of nine hillocks. Upon receiving the directions of Dewa Indra for separating the grains, each individual ant took one seed in his mouth, and in this manner the separation was presently effected and the grains laid in distinct heaps, not one being wanting. This done, the king of the ants and all his train disappeared, and returned to the place from whence they came. Dewa Indra reascended the steps of the palace, and having taken his seat and made obeisance, said, 'Your Majesty's commands for the separation of the sand and the sesame seed have been obeyed by your mean and humble slave.' The king expressed his amazement, and all the ministers of state, the warriors, and the people in general were astonished at witnessing this proof of the supernatural power of Dewa Indra; but with respect to the princes, some of them shook their heads, some bent them down, and others turned them aside, being unable to support his looks." PUNGUTIB SAGALA REMAH DERIPADA HIKAYAT INDRA LAKSANA, DAN INDRA MAHADEWA DAN DEWA INDRA. "Maka baginda pun tursunyum suraya purgi mumbujok istrinya itu, katanya, 'adoh adinda tinggallah tuan nyawa dan badan kakunda, jikalau kakunda mati kulak, maka tuan kunangkanlah kasih sayang kakunda yang sudikit itu, dan tuan slimutilah kakunda dungan kain yang dipinggang tuan itu, dan tuan mandikanlah mayat kakunda dungan ayer mata tuan yang sa'purti umbon yang dihujong rumpot juga adanya. Dan taborilah mayat kakunda dungan bunga yang dalam sangol tuan itu.' Maka tuan putri itupon makin sangatalah iya munangis suraya mumulok leher Indra Laksana. Adapun tangan tuan putri mumulok itu sapurti gadong kasturi yang mulilit pohon angsuka itu dumkianlah rupanya, maka sugralah disapunya ulih Indra Laksana ayer matanya tuan putri itu." "Adapun Indra Mahadewa sutlah iya datang kamahligie itu, maka lalu iya dudok dukat tuan putri suraya tursunyum katanya, 'ya adinda tuan nyawa kakunda, apatah bichari tuan skarang ini, kurna kakunda ini akau purgi munchari saudara kakunda? Dan jikalau tuan akan purgi bursama sama dungan kakunda, maka baiklah tuan munyurohkan orang bur­simpan simpan, skarang ini juga kakunda ini akan burjalan.' Sutlah tuan putri Seganda Ratna munung ar kata Indra Mahadewa itu, maka tuan putri itupon tundok, maka ekor matanya spurti sruja biru yang didalam laut mudu, rupanya manis bukan barang barang, suraya burkata, 'ya kakunda apatah bichara kapada anak prumpuan, mulainkan lebih bichara kakunda juga? Kurna prumpuan itu didalam maalum lakinya?' Maka Indra Mahadewa pun tursunyum munungar kata tuan putri itu, maka lalu dipulok dan chiyumnya sluroh tubohnya, suraya katanya, 'Pandienya orang yang baik paras ini burkata kata,' dan tuanlah akan pumadam hati kakunda yang mushgol dan yang munjadi panglipur lara hati, dan tuman kakunda." "Sutlah sudah iya burkata dumkian itu, maka Indra Mahadewa itupun burjalanlah dungan sapambawa kakinya, dungan rawan hatinya, dungan lapar dahaganya, masok hutan rimba yang busar busar, dan mulalui gunong yang tinggi tinggi, dan masok padang yang luas luas. Maka mata hari pun masoklah, maka bulan pun turbitlah spurti orang munyulohkan Indra Mahadewa itu, chayanya pun turlalu trang tumarang. Maka baginda pun lalu munuju gunong Indra Kila dungan lulahnya, maka sagala puchok kayu yang mulata ditiup angin mulambie rupanya, spurti handak mungikot orang baik paras lakunya. Maka fajar pun munyensenglah bur­pangkat pangkat, maka awan ditupi langit itu burbagie rupanya, ada yang spurti pohon kayu, dan ada yang spurti binatang rupanya, maka sagala pohon rimba itu pun tiadalah klihatan kurna kabot ulih umbun. Maka chaya matahari pun turbitlah mumanchar manchar deri chulah chulah gunong, spurti muka anak darah yang elok rupanya, dan rupa sinarnya yang mumanchar kaatas spurti tunggol dan mega dihadapan lawan akan prang." "Maka baginda pun turlalu sangat burkunan mulihat lakunya dan pukurtinya Dewa Indra itu, tambahan pula dungan baik rupanya, dungan arif bijaksananya. Suraya katanya, 'Makanlah sireh, ya anakku.' Maka Dewa Indra itupun lalu makan sireh sa'kapor, maka dipursumbahkaneya kapada Dewa Indra, katanya: 'hie anakku, adapun ayahanda munyuroh mumanggil tuan kamari ini, kurna ayahanda ini sudah burtitah dahulu; shahadan barang siapa dapat mumbilang biji lang yang sa'puloh koyan, dan pasir sapuloh koyan juga, maka dichamporkan antara kaduanya itu, kumdian maka dipilehnya pasir dan biji lang itu, shahadan maka habislah dungan sa 'hari itu juga, atau kapada malam, maka iyalah akan suami tuan putri.' Maka Dewa Indra Kayangan itupun tursunyum, dan taulah iya akan tipu itu deripada anak rajah rajah itu juga, maka Dewa Indra itupun munyumbah suraya kaatanya, 'mana titah deri bawa duli tuanku, patik junjong.' Maka pasir dan biji lang itupun sudah sudialah dichamporkan orang ditungah miedan itu dibalerong itu, maka Dewa Indra itupun munyumbah, lalu turon burdiri dihampir lang dan pasir itu, maka dichitanya rajah sumut; maka dungan skutika itu juga rajah sumut itupun datang dungan sagala blantuntaranya, yang sambilan timbunan itu. Maka disurohnya ulih Dewa Indra mumilih pasir dan biji lang itu, maka ulih sagala tuntara sumut lalu digigitnyalah sa'orang satu biji lang, itupun dilainkannya, maka dungan skutika itu juga pasir dan biji lang itupun masing masing dungan timbunannya, maka barang sa'biji juga pun tiadalah kurang. Maka rajah sumut dan sagala blantuntaranya itupun raiblah kumbali katumpatnya, maka Dewa Indra itupun naiklah ka'atas balerong itu lalu dudok munyumbah baginda suraya katanya, 'Sudah tuanku turpilih biji lang dan pasir itu ulih patik yang hina papa ini.' Maka baginda pun hieran dan turchungang chungang, turmangau mangau dungan sagala purmantri, hulubalang, pahlauan dan rayat skalian, itupun hieranlah iya mulihat kasaktian itu, maka akan anak rajah itu ada yang munggrakkan kapalanya dan ada yang tundok, dan ada yang burpaling, tiada mau mulihat muka Dewa Indra kayangan." The Malays of Borneo acknowledge the rule of a Sultan, who is assisted by various Ministers of State, who are principally his own relations. The Court at Brunei is kept up by taxes imposed on the few Chinese merchants, and on the native Borneans who live inland beside the rivers on the north-west coast from the Baram to Kimanis. A yearly payment is also made to the Sultan by the Rajah of Sarawak. Many of the Malays are traders. The poorer classes are sailors, fishermen, or engaged in simple domestic industries. The true bred Malay has a penchant for building his pile dwelling over the shallow water near the mouth of or beside a river wherever such a site is procurable. The Borneans, on the other hand, prefer a clearing near the streams, and some tribes, especially the Dusan, build their huts high up in the hills. Intermarriages with native women have helped to identify the Malays with the Borneans, and especially with the Kadyans, a tribe who live near the capital, and who long ago embraced the faith of Mahomet. The language of the Malays is soft and pleasing in sound--the "Italian of the East"--and very expressive. It is readily acquired by strangers, and forms the medium of commercial communication throughout the Straits Settlements and Malay Archipelago. Like our own tongue, Malay seems to be a conventional blending of several other languages, Arabic, Sanscrit, and the languages of the aboriginals with whom the Malays were first thrown into contact. At the present day many English and Portuguese words find their way into it but little disguised by pronunciation. Malay is the Court language at Brunei, but the inhabitants generally use a dialect similar to that of the aboriginals who live near the capital. The clothing of the Malays of high rank is often very lavish and showy, consisting of fancy head-cloths and short jackets, often highly embroidered with gold buttons and wire or lace. White trowsers, similar to those worn by Europeans, and patent leather slippers are also affected by the rich Malays, and all, rich or poor, wear the national "sarong," a sort of chequered petticoat wound around the waist, and allowed to fall to the feet in graceful folds. When trowsers are worn a shorter "sarong" is worn kilt-fashion, barely reaching as low as the knees. The Malay Hadjis or priests wear long green Arab coats, and green or white turbans around their shaven heads. The women when engaged in their household duties wear nothing but a "sarong" reaching from the breasts to the feet. When abroad, however, neat print sacques reaching as low as the knees are worn, having long and tight sleeves. This dress opens in front, and is fastened by a set of three silver or gold brooches. Below this a chequered, or Javanese sarong reaches from the waist to the ankles. Beautiful sarongs are made by the Brunei ladies. They are richly embroidered with gold wire, and are worn by the well-to-do women along the coast. Slippers of European or Chinese manufacture are sometimes worn. Their black hair is oiled profusely, and secured behind with silver pins. It is often perfumed by tying up in it flowers of the champaca, jasmine, gardenia, or other scented blossoms over night. Both men and women bathe at least twice daily, morning and evening, and the women dye their nails with a mixture made of the red stems of a common balsam, mixed with lime juice, as a substitute for the henna so largely used in Persia and Egypt. There are some very singular liberties allowed to loving swains in out of the way places in Wales and Cornwall, but those allowed by the Malay and native girls of Borneo to their favourite lovers are of a yet more faithful kind. A Bornean youth may enter the house of his loved one's parents and awaken her if she be really sleeping, to sit and talk with him in the dark, or to eat betel-nut and the finest of sirih-leaves from his garden. A similar custom, so far as nocturnal visits are concerned, formerly existed in the country districts of Scotland. It is but seldom that immorality results from this custom in Borneo, even according to European ideas on the subject, and the parents think no more of putting a stop to these nightly meetings than do those of our own fair daughters in the case of the "morning call" of an eligible suitor at home. There was a grand wedding at the capital during one of my visits there, the bride being a relation of his Highness the Sultan. There was a grand procession of boats on the river, and a large lighter had been decorated with parti-coloured flags and streamers, and in the centre a raised daïs and a canopy overhead of red cloth had been erected for the parties mainly concerned. In the case of the Malays there is the usual religious ceremony, at which the "hadjis" appear and chant the prayers in gorgeous apparel of green Arabic coat and ample turban. There was much firing of cannon throughout the town, the whole event lasting nearly a week, and there was a grand reception, the bride and bridegroom being seated in state on a raised daïs, and covered with finery and gold ornaments, mostly borrowed for the occasion. In the interior, where nearly all enjoy "liberty, equality, and fraternity," in a way one can only dream of in civilised "society," marriage is very simple, and monogamy the rule. The celebration of a marriage consists of a notification of the fact, and it is acknowledged by all in the village, who meet for feasting. A couple of fowls or a goat is killed, and the appearances presented by these after death furnish auguries of good or ill fortune for the newly married pair. The native Borneans proper are sparsely scattered over the whole country, and are divided into various tribes, each inhabiting a particular district, and speaking a dialect peculiar to itself. These tribes have been compared with the natives of our English counties, but they are much more distinct, each having its own customs, dress, mode of life, weapons, and in many cases a language unknown to the tribes only a few miles distant. The Dyaks, Kayans, Muruts, Kadyans, Dusun, and Lanun, are a few only of these tribes. Another peculiar race are the Badjows, or "Sea Gipsies," common to all the islands of these seas. They are nomadic--water rovers--and engaged in diving for pearls, or pearl shell, fishing, or in petty trade. They rarely settle down on shore, or remain long in one place, but live in their boats. Indeed they are the gipsies of the sea in every sense of the word, and given to pilfering like their namesakes on shore. The Badjows, Lanun, Balagnini, and Sulus, who inhabit the north of Borneo and the islands to the north-east are an adventurous people given to piracy, and, of course, excellent sailors. The Muruts are the only existing race of head-hunters north of the capital. The Dusun and Kadyans, although formerly head-hunters, have now taken to agricultural pursuits, and are well fed and prosperous compared to the Muruts, who, although they clear and plant the land around their immensely long pile dwellings, still depend much on their skill in hunting wild pig, deer, and other game for food. The Dyaks of Sarawak, although formerly fierce and warlike, are now peaceful and industriously engaged in seafaring or agricultural pursuits. The Kayans are still warlike, and a fine race of straight-limbed powerful people. They formerly inhabited the country inland near the Limbang and used to plunder the villages of the Muruts and Sabayans, killing the men, and taking the women and children into slavery. Of late years, however, they have migrated further south, and their head-quarters are now on the Baram river. The Lanuns live on the coasts north of Menkabong, and are petty traders or cultivators. Like the Badjows, however, they have a lingering affection for the sea. The Dusun, who live in the hills further from the coast, give them a bad character and assert that formerly they used to steal their children. Land culture is becoming much more general among the natives inland than formerly, security of life and property having also increased. Rice, kaladi, sweet potatoes, and Indian corn and sago are the principal food products cultivated. Tobacco, cotton, sugar-cane, tapioca, and fruit are also grown here. The implements used for purposes of land culture in the island are of the most rude description. On the plains of Menkabong, Tawaran, and Tampassuk, near the coast, ploughs and harrows drawn by buffaloes are employed, and their produce is carried to market in light bamboo sledges. Further inland, however, the implements are yet more primitive, nearly all the necessary labour of cultivation being performed with a blunt-pointed iron chopper, or a sharp-pointed bamboo. The hoe, another implement used, may be taken as the type of that adopted by the Chinese emigrants in the Straits Settlements and Eastern Archipelago generally; indeed, wherever a Chinaman sets his foot in a new locality for cultural purposes, a chopper and a blade or two of his national "chunkal" or spade-hoe are sure to form a part of his extremely small belonging. He sets to work cutting the brushwood and small timber on his future clearing, and piling this at the base of the large trees, he fires the whole until only a few great black stumps, and here and there a gaunt leafless durian or dryobalanops remains of the old forest. Now, the "chunkal" is used to stir the virgin soil by chopping it up, a much quicker process than digging; indeed, a spade would have no chance in a competition where, as in this case, the soil is full of roots. If desirable, the soil can be thus chopped up to a depth of 12 in. or 14 in., the only drawback being that the operator stands on the freshly cultivated land. Armed with a chopper and one of these spade-hoes, a solitary Chinaman will not unfrequently build a miserable little palm-leaf hut on a well-watered bit of forest near a river, and in a month or two he will have cleared several acres, to which, when planted with gambier or pepper, he looks for a fair return. Here, alone in the forest, or at the best with a companion or two equally poor as himself, he subsists on a little boiled rice, until his crops of sweet potatoes, bananas, sugar-cane, egg fruit, maize, and yams, are fit for use; for one of his first cares has been to clear the bit of land around his hut, on which to plant the few roots and seeds which he has brought with him, most probably the gift of one of his richer countrymen, perchance of the trader of whom he bought the bag of rice, which with a little freshly caught fish from the river, are the only "stores" which stand between him and starvation, until his garden produce is available. I have often come across these clearings right in the heart of the forest, miles away from any other human habitation, and have been as much astonished at the amount of labour performed with such a simple tool, as the thrifty labourer himself was to see me. The Dusun villagers keep bees and export wax in quantity, and most of the tribes collect the varied natural products of the sea or of the forests in their respective districts. The Sulus were until quite recently a warlike race inhabiting the large island of Sulu, between Borneo and the Philippines. They were independent and ruled by a Sultan, who held Sulu, Tawi Tawi, and the north of Borneo, including the fine harbour of Sandakan. The Sulus, however, are now practically under the Manilla Government. Slavery, although not yet abolished in Borneo, is not nearly so common as was formerly the case. The native government at Brunei is practically under the eye of the British governor of Labuan, and thus many former abuses have become mitigated merely by the moral influence of a British colony being located thus near to the capital. It must not be imagined that either the Malays or the native Borneans are the bloodthirsty savages they are sometimes made out to be. The Malays generally are courteous, dignified, and hospitable. Many of them have made long journeys for purposes of trade, and have a tolerably good idea of the manners and customs of Europeans. Others have taken to the use of European commodities after observing them used by the Chinese traders and settlers, and one can rarely visit a native of any consideration without finding him the hospitable possessor of a chair or two, plates, dishes, water bottles and glasses, and very often of excellent brandy and cigars. They are most sensitive, innately polite and gentle in manners, and very quick to understand and appreciate any little courtesies or civilities one may offer them. All but the poorest carry their national weapon, "the murderous crease," a sort of long sinuous-edged dagger, generally as sharp as a razor, and most deadly when wielded by a skilful hand. In many cases where the owners are rich or of high rank these weapons are beautifully finished--rarely damascened--and the handles of ivory or gold set with pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones. The running "amok," so often cited as an instance of their savage bloodthirsty nature is really a very rare occurrence, and is generally attributed to the excessive use of opium, or to some great disappointment or dishonour having befallen the frantic creature who, drawing his kriss, rushes at friend and foe alike until either shot down like a mad dog or run through the body with a spear. Jealousy is the main cause of all the bloodshed of which the Malays are guilty. The co-respondent in Borneo must either have a tacit understanding with the husband or rather proprietor of the frail one, or his adventures may end very suddenly. I saw one man in the hospital at Labuan who paid the penalty of his indiscretion. One night a kriss or spear had been driven into his thigh through the interstices of the floor of the house in which he was sleeping with his Helen, and with such force that the bone was completely severed. It is possible the weapon was poisoned, at any rate he died some little time afterwards, notwithstanding all that surgical skill could suggest. In the case of the Malays their women are, as a rule, secluded from the gaze of strangers in private apartments, but in the interior the women of the aboriginal tribes enjoy equal freedom with the men, and often join in discussions and trading difficulties with great tact. Monogamy is the rule with the Borneans and polygamy with the Malays. In Borneo, as in Europe, the female exceeds the male population, and here, too, the women do a large proportion of the field labour in addition to their domestic duties. Some of the little villages of the native tribes inland present a pleasant and prosperous exterior. Little palm-leaf houses stand here and there beneath groves of cocoa-nut trees, betel-palms, tree-ferns, or graceful willow-like bamboo. Breadths of fresh greensward occur among the clumps of low brush or scrubby vegetations, the remains of the old jungle, and here buffaloes or goats, and occasionally other cattle, browse around the houses. Pigs, bees, and poultry are domesticated, and are often very abundant. The houses are built on piles, and a sloping hill-side or knoll is generally selected as a site, so that all superfluous surface water may readily escape. The fowls are caught every evening and placed in open-work baskets of either rattan or bamboo, suspended beneath the eaves of the houses. This care is essential in order to guard them from the attacks of large snakes and iguanas, or other poultry-stealing saurians. The main food product is rice, of which two distinct races are grown. One kind only prospers in the rich alluvial deposits of the valleys near the streams, where it can be irrigated at particular stages of its growth. The other kind, or "hill-rice," will grow on the hills up to 3000 feet elevation, and prospers in dry red earth, and when growing it closely resembles a barley-field at home. One of the most important of the women's duties is to clean and prepare daily the "padi" or rice in the husk, which, with fish and fruit, forms the main food supply of these islanders. The "padi" is placed in large wooden mortars and beaten with wooden pestles a yard or more in length. This beating or pounding separates the husk from the white grain within. It is a very pretty sight to see the girls of the villages inland thus engaged. As many as three may sometimes be seen beating the rice in one of these large wooden mortars. With one hand they grasp the pestle about the centre, while the other hand is rested on the hip. One woman commences to beat the rice with a steady, regular stroke, then another one joins her, and then a third. Of course, the most exact time has to be observed, and the graceful motions of their slightly-draped figures, the dancing pestles, and the regular thudding sounds produced, are very interesting to a stranger. After the rice has been sufficiently beaten, one of the girls scoops it out of the mortar with her little hands into a shallow tray of closely-woven rattan work of circular form and about two feet in diameter. Standing on the verandah or platform between the houses so as to catch the breeze, the rice is sifted, and now and then dexterously thrown up into the air so that the chaff and refuse is blown away, but the rice falls back into the tray. When finished the rice is as clean and as white as that dressed by the finest machinery in England. Two or three girls will soon clean the day's supply, and by the laughing and gossip indulged in one may infer that the task is not a very unpleasant one to them. The farther one proceeds inland the more extensive are the clearings devoted to rice culture. This is accounted for by the fact that near the coast rice is often imported in exchange for jungle produce, but far inland the natives are obliged to grow all the food they require, and in some cases as in the district to the south of Kina Balu most of the hills up to 3000 feet are either under rice culture, or are lying fallow, covered with low brushwood or jungle. Virgin land or old forests are rare here, unless on the slopes of the great mountain itself. The clothing of the aboriginals is in most cases very scanty, now and then "sarongs" and white calico are obtained from the coast in return for wax, gutta, tobacco, or other produce of the hills, but, as a rule, the clothing of the native tribes of the north of Borneo inland is a short "sarong" made of a strong indigo-dyed cloth, which is woven by the women from the strong fibres of the "Lamba" (Curculigo latifolia), a yellow-flowered broad-leaved weed, often seen in great abundance on old cultivated plots near the houses. Many of the men, especially those of the Murut tribes, who are perhaps the most primitive of all the northern Borneans, wear nothing but a strip of bark-cloth or "chawat" around the loins, and I have no doubt but that this was the first clothing ever worn by the natives of the island. This bark-cloth is the produce of Artocarpus elastica, a tall tree with a trunk two feet in diameter, and leaves closely resembling those of the bread-fruit, but rough instead of glossy. The inner bark is stripped off and soaked in water, being afterwards beaten to render it soft and pliable. Of this "chawats" or loin-cloths and jackets are commonly made by the Muruts on the Lawas and the Limbang rivers, and it is also still used by the Dusan villagers on the Tampassuk, notwithstanding their skill in preparing, weaving, and dyeing the "Lamba" fibre. The native women inland wear short "sarongs" of "Lamba" cloth reaching from the waist nearly to their knees, and a profusion of stained rattan coils, brass wire, coloured beads, and other trinkets around their waists, and heavy rings of brass on their legs, or coils of brass wire on their plump and dusky arms. The younger ones wear a strip of dark cloth across the breast. All have glossy black hair and dark eyes. Some of the Murut women are fine muscular creatures, and either in boats or afield they appear to be as strong and active as the men. Their hair is often very gracefully wreathed up with a string of red or amber-coloured beads, sometimes with a strip of the pale yellow nipa leaf in its young state, and the colour contrast is then very effective. The physique of the inland tribes, especially of the Dyaks, Kayans, and Muruts, is superior to that of the Malays. The Kayans and Muruts are especially lithe and active--bronzy, straight-limbed, and statuesque. This is the result of an active life spent hunting in the forest, climbing after gutta, rubber, jungle-fruit, or beeswax, or in cultivating the clearings around their dwellings, or in fishing in the rivers. The aboriginals are active, while, as a class, the Malays are lethargic and luxurious, and rarely exert themselves or make long foot journeys unless actually compelled to do so, and the richer ones spend much of their time in opium smoking or with their women instead of trying to ameliorate the condition of their poorer neighbours, who in one way or another have to "pay the piper." It is sad to see such a lovely and fertile island impoverished to a great extent by the avaricious Malays, who ought to encourage the natives to improve themselves and the country in which they live, instead of which they wring their property from them whenever possible under all manner of pretences. The harsh treatment to which the aboriginals, and even the poorer of the Malays, were formerly subjected by the petty chiefs and Pangerans, is now much moderated, as many natives have visited Labuan, and it has now become known as a sanctuary from their unjust oppressors. The climate of Borneo although hot and wet, is fairly healthy, especially on the hills inland, where the air is much fresher and cooler than on the lowlands near the coast; the mean annual temperature is about 84°. The hot and dry monsoon lasts from December to May, and the cool and wet one from June to November; the rainfall is very heavy, especially on the hills. The economic products for which the soil and climate are suitable are coffee, cinchona, cocoa, cotton, tobacco, sugar-cane, indigo, gambier, cocoa-nuts for oil, and manilla hemp. Fine timber, gutta, caoutchouc, rattans, and camphor, are the indigenous products of the forests primæval. Among the introduced fruits which succeed well are oranges, limes, pomoloes, mangoes, pine-apples, and bananas. The animal products are edible swallows' nests, ivory, sea-slug or beche de mer, (Holothuria), fine fish of many kinds, pearls, and pearl-shell. Among minerals, coal, antimony, cinnabar, and gold seem the most promising; diamonds, tin, copper, plumbago, and iron are reported; and if one may judge of the iron by the old weapons, such as krisses, parongs, and spears as made by the Bruneis and the Kayans, it must be of excellent quality. I made a pen and ink sketch of a Kayan war knife which I saw in the collection of native weapons in the possession of Mr. Treacher at Government House, Labuan. Of this sketch Mr. Cooper has made me this careful fac-simile on wood. It had a finely-tempered blade, ornamented along the back for about half its length. One side of the blade was flat, the other rounded; the sheath was elaborately carved and, as is generally the case in Borneo, made of two flat pieces of wood bound tightly together by neatly worked rattan cane; the hilt was ornamented with tufts of red and black hair, and it was furnished with a girdle of rattan plaited--altogether a most handy and formidable implement in the paw of a lusty naked savage. Gold, diamonds, and antimony have been obtained in remunerative quantities at the Sarawak mines, which were originally worked by the Chinese settlers, but are now in the hands of a company. Mining operations are very difficult owing to the enormous rainfall; and it is only the abundance of cheap Chinese or native labour which renders it possible in such a climate. Coolies from Hong Kong may be obtained for seven to eight dollars per month, or for less if their food is provided; and natives will work sometimes for five to seven dollars per month. A good Chinaman as a labourer, is however worth two Malays. The largest rivers in the island are supposed to be the Kinabatangan and the Pontianak; the former is said to be navigable over two hundred miles from its mouth, and at the farthest point reached it was fifty yards wide, and there was seven fathoms of water. Dutch steamers have ascended a long way inland up the Pontianak which lies south of Sarawak. Most of the rivers on the north-west coast are very shallow, having dangerous bars at their mouths; and that at the mouth of the Brunei was partly blocked by large rocks about the time of the siege of that city by the English. Gambling and opium smoking are the bane of the Chinese settlers and of many of the well-to-do Malays; and of all forms of intemperance surely this last must be the most degrading and otherwise hurtful in its effects. The manufactured drug as imported from Benares and other opium producing districts, is in the form of balls six inches in diameter, covered with the dried petals of poppy flowers. This product is the inspissated juice of the opium poppy (Papaver somniferum), and is of a dark brown or black colour. Before it is used for smoking, however, it has to be still further prepared by boiling and stirring in shallow pans over a bright fire; and as the pure product is very high in price, it is often subjected to adulteration. In our eastern colonies it is usual to let or farm out the right to prepare and sell or export opium to an enterprising native or Chinese merchant, and the revenue thus obtained is often enormous as compared with that on spirits and tobacco, or other duty-paying goods. An opium-smoking establishment consists of a few gloomy rooms furnished with cane-bottomed couches, and on little stands are the pipes, tiny lamps, and other implements used by the smokers. The smell is generally sufficient to deter Europeans entering an opium-smoker's haunt from motives of curiosity; or if under guidance one does venture into the ill-ventilated and malodorous apartments behind, it is with feelings of relief that the sweet outer air is again gained. The smokers lie on the bamboo couches, and a little stand is brought, on which are one or two flute-like pipes, a pill or two of the drug, and a little glass lamp. In some cases an attendant manipulates the drug and fills the pipes; as a rule, however, this is done by the smokers themselves. There is no mistaking an habitual opium smoker; his eyes are dull, his complexion sallow, and in general a listless bearing, with a frame more or less emaciated, betokens his being a degraded victim. Without a supply of his favourite drug he is miserable; and when under its influence he is useless. Here he lies holding a morsel of the black drug on a needle over the flame of the lamp, twirling it round and round, and toasting it in the flame until the proper consistence is attained. It is then introduced into the pipe, and the needle, on being withdrawn, leaves a tiny air-hole through the mass as it fits like a plug in the bowl. The smoker now holds the bowl to the lamp, and obtains a light, and then he draws a long whiff or two as the burning morsel of opium rapidly decreases in the bowl. CHAPTER VIII. A CITY OF LAKE DWELLINGS. Brunei the Capital--Market Chinese traders--Gun foundry--The Istana--Weak government--The Sultan Moumein--Native jewelry--Native smithy--Public executions--Punishment for robbery--Sago factories--Inter-marriage--Morality--Old Mission Church--Boat journey inland--Murut hospitality--Canoe travel--Forest travel--New aroids--Native insects--Day flying Moths--River travel by moonlight--Sago-washing station. Brunei, the capital of Borneo and the seat of the government, is a water-city of about twenty thousand inhabitants. The palm-thatched houses of which it for the most part consists, are built on piles so as to be above the river at high tide. From one of the adjacent low hills the view of this "Venice of the East" is a most novel one--indeed, unique in its way; and although the town is nearly fifteen miles from the mouth of the river, yet a moderate-sized gunboat can anchor in the broad water-way in the very centre of the city, and within a few yards of the Sultan's Istana. There is a rather awkward bar at the entrance to the river. A trading steamer from Singapore calls here once a month to bring letters and goods for the Sultan and a few Chinese merchants, and to take back sago, which is the main export. In some cases the blocks of houses are connected by bridges formed of long palm stems lashed together with rattans; but, as a rule, all general communication must be carried on by boats. Some of the inhabitants grow a few flowers and herbs in boxes of earth; and occasionally papaw trees and gourds of different kinds are thus cultivated. Little rafts, or floating tree-trunks, are moored to the piles which support the houses for the accommodation of ducks and fowls. The market held on the river every morning is one of the most singular sights of the place. Here you may see a hundred or more little boats containing fruit, fish, rice, and other produce, for sale or barter. Among the petty traders the Brunei women are most prominent, and many of them present a most singular appearance, the hats they wear being made of neatly plaited Nipa leaves, and being from two to three feet in diameter, they serve the purpose of both head covering and umbrella, and they screen the whole body of the wearer from the hot sun. Most of the women to be seen in the market are old and coarse featured--in many cases positively ugly--reminding one of the orang utan as they glance at you from beneath their wrinkled foreheads, their mouths overflowing with betel-nut juice the while, their repulsive black teeth being worn off level with their gums; their more beautiful sisters are secluded according to the etiquette of Islam; the nobles and richer Malays have wives and slaves in abundance. A European lady who visited the court here and was admitted into the women's apartments, tells me that some are passing fair, with tiny hands and feet, straight noses and liquid eyes, prototypes of those black-eyed damsels who are to attend all true believers of the Prophet in the gardens of Paradise. The principal traders are Chinamen, who have floating warehouses singularly like the Noah's arks of early memory. Brunei is the Sheffield of north-west Borneo, the manufacture of knives, parongs and krisses being largely carried on; and on one of the little islands is a primitive foundry where gongs, brass guns, cooking-pots, betel boxes, &c., are cast. Some of these articles are ornamented with well-designed figures in relief, and would not be any disgrace to a European manufacturer. The models and methods of casting are singularly like those of our own artizans. I visited one rude armourer's shop, and much admired the exquisite finish of some weapons he had made. The peculiar long swivel guns or small cannon cast here are now rarely used, except as currency, being valued at about thirty dollars per cwt. In the good old times slaves could be purchased here at thirty dollars, or a picul of gun-metal each; but at the present time the Malays complain of the low purchasing power of money--i.e. of brass guns--just as do most people nearer home. The Sultan's palace or Istana, like nearly all the other dwellings here, is built on piles over the water, and is a shabby, tumble-down looking establishment. In front is a large audience chamber, containing a few old gilt framed mirrors and silvered globes, and there are, on occasion, a round table and a few rickety chairs. The Sultan himself is now an old man, over eighty, and so avaricious that he will do anything for the sake of a few dollars. The Government here is corrupt, and, indeed, but little more than nominal; and if his people of the outlying districts refuse to pay tribute, or to obey his mandates, he has no means of enforcing his demands. He has a good many wives, and female slaves or concubines, but no children. I visited the palace in company with Mr. Peter Veitch and Inche Mahomed, the British Consular agent at this port. We were honoured with an audience by His Highness. His two nephews, Pangeran Matassan and Pangeran Anak Bazar, were present, and welcomed us before the Sultan appeared. They were intelligent men, and it was a pleasure to hear Malay spoken by them in all its purity. Tea was offered us, together with the long Nipa leaf cheroots so largely smoked by Malays and Borneans of all grades. In about five minutes His Highness appeared, dressed in a long Arab coat, a sarong, and having a small black cap on his head. That the portraits of Pope Pius IX. resemble him very much has repeatedly been observed by visitors here. He walked slowly, bearing rather heavily, as I thought, on a long staff, which had two short prongs at the lower extremity. He came forward, and we shook hands, after which he sat down in an arm-chair on the opposite side of the table. He told us that he was now a very old man, and that every day found him weaker. I thanked him for a passport he had given me some months before for the journey inland to Kina Balu. He seemed interested in hearing of the great mountain, and asked several questions. He appeared astonished to hear it was so cold there; and inquired as to the tobacco and rice crops. He also expressed his regret that being now old and infirm, he could not undertake a journey to the mountain himself, of which, he observed, he had heard several accounts derived from natives who had accompanied Mr. Low and Mr. St. John. On leaving the Sultan's, we visited a foundry situated near the house of the minister of war or the Tumongong; also the house of a gold worker, who made most of the trinkets, rings, and ear ornaments worn by the Brunei ladies. The proprietor, an old man, showed us some prettily designed specimens of native gold work, the ear ornaments being especially singular. It is the fashion for many of the ladies of Brunei and the interior to cut a large gash in the lobe of each ear, and in these holes are inserted gold or silver ornaments, as large as a wine cork. If of gold, they are mostly made of beaten work; the highly decorated convex ends, however, are generally cast in little moulds formed of clay and wax, or dammar. The crucibles used for melting the metal are of the size and shape of half a hen's egg, being formed of fine porous clay. These are heated over tiny charcoal fires, the heat being augmented with a blow-pipe. In some of the ornaments we observed rudely cut rock crystals, or Bornean diamonds; and part of a waist-belt contained a dozen fine pearls, but most of their beauty was lost by bad setting. The stock in trade of a gold-worker here is of the most simple description. A rough block of hard wood serves as a bench or anvil, and is perforated with large and small holes, into which iron pins of various sizes are inserted for various uses. Hammers of iron and wood, a chisel or two, a pair of shears, wax and clay for models, or matrices and earthen crucibles for melting up the Spanish gold pieces, are all the plant he deems necessary. There is not much originality in the designs used. Some of the Brunei ladies must have fingers of the most delicate proportions to be able to wear some of the rings I saw here for repair. Smiths' shops are pretty much the same all over the world. We visited one here, and except that iron and tools were less plentiful, it was pretty much like a village smithy in England. Sheffield files and rasps are used even in this out-of-the-way part of the East. Most other tools were of Brunei make. Choppers, knives, parongs, and krisses represent the manufactures. A Bornean bellows is peculiar, being made of two upright wooden cylinders four or five feet high, and connected at the bottom with the iron pipe which enters the fuel. In each cylinder is a wooden disk edged with soft feathers stuck on with glue, and to each a piston rod of wood is attached. A man standing behind the cylinders works them up and down alternately, and in this way a constant current of air is supplied to the fire. The old smith was much struck with a breech-loading Reilly shot gun Mr. Veitch had with him, and he took the trouble to go across a rickety bridge of bamboo into his dwelling-house to fetch a parong, or Brunei sword, of which he asked our opinion. Considering the rude appliances of this primitive smithy, the sword, in fine damascene work and finish, was perhaps as wonderful in its way as the gun. On returning to the ship, which was anchored in the river below the town, we saw a gathering of natives on a grassy knoll a little above the old ruined Consulate, and were informed that a public execution was going on. It appears a China trader had been murdered and robbed on the Trusan river, and two of the Trusan Muruts had been arrested, and were being executed for the crime, although it was by some thought that the murder had actually been committed by Brunei men. At any rate, of these poor Muruts scapegoats were made. A grave was dug beneath a tree, and a noose connected with a bit of board was passed over their heads. A stout stick was now inserted in the rope, and two or three turns--Spanish winch fashion--finished the poor fellows' existence, whether innocent or guilty. We did not land, but watched the proceedings as well as we could from the bridge of the vessel with glasses. Summary justice is the rule here. Just afterwards a ship came here and anchored in the river. It was very hot, and at night the ports were left open to secure ample ventilation. In the morning a gold watch and a revolver were missing. The thieves had dropped down the river silently in a boat and taken advantage of the darkness to put their hands in at the ports and take all they could reach. A complaint was made to the Sultan at once. In a few days the goods were recovered, and word was also brought to the effect that each of the offenders had lost one of their hands for the offence. Of course nothing so severe as this was anticipated when the charge was made, and no one more regretted the cruelty than those who were so near being losers by the dishonesty of the maimed sufferers. The principal export product is sago, of which large quantities are brought down from the Limbang and other rivers in the interior. There are two large sago-washing establishments in the town, both the property of intelligent and hospitable Chinamen. Gutta-percha, caoutchouc, edible birds'-nests, camphor, rattans, and fine timber are also obtained in small quantities from the forests of the country behind. Fine fish is obtained from the river by the natives, and fruit is very plentiful in season. Excellent drinking-water is obtained from some rocks beside the river between the town and the old Consulate. It is pure, cool, fresh, and abundant, inestimable qualities in such a hot and thirst-producing climate. We visited one of the sago factories, and found their water remarkably good; and when I and Mr. Veitch went out one evening snipe and pigeon-shooting on a plain behind we came across an aqueduct formed of large bamboo stems, in which this water was conveyed from a spring nearly a mile away. I was very much interested in the old Chinaman's garden, which contained a fair assortment of fruits and flowers. The lively white-flowered Pancratium zeylanicum was blooming beautifully in one of the well-watered beds. The mangoes were large, and of excellent flavour. In exploring the garden behind the house I came across our host's coffin standing on supports in one of the sheds. It was large and curiously shaped, and made of some dark durable wood highly valued by the wealthy Chinese. Most Chinese settlers here, when sufficiently wealthy, send to China for one of these coffins, which is preserved until their death. Nearly all the Chinese settlers here in the capital are married to Malay women, and healthy children generally result from these unions. On the other hand, the Malay or Bornean women rarely bear children when married to Europeans, and if so, the children are generally unhealthy, and they themselves rarely have offspring. No doubt the Malays of the capital are gradually becoming absorbed by intermarrying with the native Bornean women of the Murut, Kadyan, and other inland tribes. Many of the Malays, so called, closely resemble the aboriginals in physiognomy, and the common people or Bruneis may be characterised as an ugly and immoral lot of mongrels. Now and then traces of African blood are seen. Nowhere else in Borneo are the men such liars and thieves as here, and the Brunei women have been described by a former writer as being perhaps "the most immoral in the whole world." Of classical celebrities, Cato and Phryne are certainly well represented in this great water city of the far East. The climate is sultry. A large upas tree is pointed out to all comers, and it is a fine specimen, standing on the right bank of the river, just below the town, near some ancient tombs. A burial-ground, indeed, occupies nearly the whole right bank of the river from just beyond the Consulate as far as the sago factory. One or two of the tombs are large, and built of stone, with entrance gates; but most are small, with perhaps only a large stone to mark the spot. The capital, as also the towns all along the coast, suffers now and then from epidemic diseases, cholera and small-pox being the most common. Senõr Quateron, the old padre, now resident in Labuan, formerly had a mission here, and the remains of his chapel still stand on the left bank of the Brunei river, a little below the town. As seen coming down the stream, it forms a picturesque object, a white campanile standing on a grassy knoll, the blue peaks of Molu towering up into the sky behind. I should think that Brunei, of all other places in Borneo, is the last at which missionaries of any denomination would be likely to succeed. Their sphere is not with Mahomedans, whose faith is good, so far as it teaches cleanliness and temperance; but with the aboriginals of the interior, who are thrifty, honest, and truthful to a fault, and who have no systematic faith unless their belief in the cries and motions of birds and animals, and other omens can be so called. With these people missionaries would doubtless be successful, but they must be hard-working men who could teach these gentle savages the benefits of civilisation without introducing its vices. A missionary has thus recorded his impressions of life among the natives near Sarawak:--"A message came to me from one of the Christians on the Kabo, asking me to go up and see them. Accordingly, as soon as I could get a boat ready we were on our way down the Sebetan river .... the wild, sombre, solitary feeling of the primæval forest, the easy motion of the boat, the cheeriness of the paddling Dyaks, united to produce a sensation of repose and awe..... Next morning we soon came to the first waterfall rushing and roaring over the rocks. Here we had to halt and stow away the palm-leaf awnings, and pull the boat over the fall. Then one could not help feeling the charms of tropical scenery,--the clear stream running over a pebbly bottom, rocks here and there with occasional tufts of vegetation forming little islets in mid river, hills on each bank running down perpendicularly to the water's edge and covered with creepers, moss, wild palms, and ferns, magnificent trees on either side stretching their branches into triumphal arches overhead. Soon the whole scene was changed, clouds gathered, and thunder rumbled, and down came the rain in a continuous torrent. Towards evening we arrived at our destination like so many drowned rats. In the evening I held service under difficulties, there being no prayer-house, and the long public verandah of the house being the only available place. The dignity of worship suffers terribly in such circumstances. No sooner do we begin than dogs begin to fight, or a child to cry, or an unsympathetic heathen at the other end of the house to make some discordant row, or a fighting cock will fly right into the midst of the kneeling assembly, and distract everyone's attention." The condition of the natives near the capital is not nearly so good as at Kina Balu, a hundred and fifty miles away, if we except the Kadyans, who being Mahomedans, and having powerful friends in Brunei, are able to resist many of the taxes which the Muruts of the Limbang and elsewhere are called upon to pay. I made two visits here to the capital, and made a boat journey up the Limbang and Pandarowan rivers as far as Bukit Sagan. This trip was made in the wet season, and took twelve men three days, owing to the heavy freshes against which they had to pull. The Pandarowan river is small compared with the Limbang, of which it is a tributary; but it is, without exception, the loveliest river I ever saw. At the end of the second day after leaving the capital we reached a large house belonging to the Muruts of this district. It stood in a little clearing close beside the stream, and was nearly a hundred yards in length. A rude pathway of tree trunks lay on the muddy shore reaching to one end of the building. We landed here to cook our dinner, and clambered up into the house by a rude stair formed of a notched tree trunk. The Muruts looked rather surprised to see such visitors, but spread mats for us, and gave us some firewood and water. After dinner we had a smoke with the head-man, a fine muscular old fellow, nearly six feet high. About fifty men, women, and children swarmed round the circle, of which a wood fire was the centre, to get a peep at us. The head-man's wife was a young and rather handsome girl, having a fine dusky little baby swung behind her, and several other of the younger married women and girls were comely, with dark eyes and luxuriant hair. Others, however, were less attractive, and many of both sexes were troubled with peculiar skin diseases. We engaged two men of this tribe to go with us as far as Bukit Sagan, as our men did not exactly know the best place at which to land. We slept by the fire until about two o'clock, when the rain, which had been coming down heavily all day, ceased, and the silver moon being nearly at the full, it quite illumined the stream as it sped past the house. The mosquitoes became very troublesome, and so I called the men and went down to the boat. After shouting for about half an hour, the Muruts came down and took their places; and pulling across the current, we crept up stream beneath the arching plumes of the Nipa palm, which is here abundant. It was hard work for the men, although we had now fourteen paddles. A sharp look-out had to be kept for snags and floating trunks of trees, several of which we saw shooting past us mid stream. Our Labuan men were rather afraid, and several times wanted to make fast until daybreak. At one place the boat struck heavily and keeled over in an alarming way, but we found the obstruction was a raft of the stems of the sago palm, which some Muruts had felled and lashed near the bank ready for floating down to their rude washing-sheds below. This heavy bump woke up our men, several of whom had previously been dozing, although paddling the while, and we got along for a mile or two in first-rate style. Then, in crossing the current, at an awkward bend we were well-nigh washed away; indeed, had it not been for the silent but strenuous exertions of our Murut guides, the alligators would possibly have had a feed. The stream for the moment got the better of our men, but by a clever touch of the paddle our guides steered us through safely, and a steady pull for an hour longer brought us to the foot of the hill where we were to land. We made our rattan-rope fast to a tree, and slept until nearly daybreak. One man told us in the morning that he had not slept a wink all night, as he was afraid our "painter" would part; but it stood the strain well, although the boat had swung about and tugged a good deal, owing to the swift current running down. The scene at sunrise was lovely; every stem and leaf was covered with dew-drops, and the hazy golden mist, through which palms, tree-ferns, and curious leafage of all descriptions loomed out more and more plainly until we saw everything in the foreground quite distinctly. It was a transformation scene on a gigantic scale, and its loveliness was such as only Turner at his best could have portrayed. The delicate arching outline of the nebong palms was sharply defined against the sky overhead, and large masses of a wild musa fringed both banks with immense leaves and clusters of delicate rosy bracts. How comes it that none of our good landscape-painters ever visit the tropics, where the beauty of form and colour in the landscapes is more glorious than anywhere else, and yet nearly all the tropical pictures one sees remind one of the daubs of a bad scene-painter? Here and there clumps of bamboo reminded one of the early summer freshness of the weeping willow beside the silvery trout streams at home. A gorgeous scarlet-flowered climbing bauhinia draped some of the low trees which nestled down near the water. We turned out for a ramble with our guns while our people cooked breakfast. I never saw birds so numerous in Borneo before. The first shot brought down a little green tree-pigeon, with a magenta stain on its white breast and on its head. A Kadyan boy we had with us blazed away with an old Tower musket to his heart's content, and surprised us by bringing in a long-tailed rufous-brown species of pigeon, which we had first secured in the Sulu Islands. Two or three other rare Bornean birds were obtained. Breakfast over, we set about climbing. Our path lay through the tall forest, and in places the undergrowth was so thick that our guides and men had to cut us a path with their parongs. For the first mile or two vegetation was scanty, but as we ascended ferns and selaginellas became more plentiful. We stayed here and there to examine fallen trees for epiphytal orchids, which however were far from abundant. About half way up the hill we came to a gorge, down which a considerable body of water flows, but it is screened from sight by huge boulders, which lie near together, forming a sort of "giant's causeway," across which we picked our way. We peered down the chasms, but could not catch a glimpse of the stream, although we could hear it quite plainly as it forced its way among the stones far below. In one wet spot several species of aroids formed a little colony all to themselves. Of those collected in flower, one proved distinct enough to be made the type of a new genus when submitted to the botanical authorities at Kew. It grew in tufts on wet mossy stones, forming rather compact plants a foot in height. The spathe is of a bright rose colour, borne on a scape nearly as long as the leaves. I was especially interested in this plant, as I had seen a species singularly like it beside the Haya Haya stream at the foot of Kina Balu. As we approached the summit, we were stopped at one place by a perpendicular wall of sandstone rock, and we had to make a wearisome detour in order to gain the crest. I had been led to explore this hill at all risks, having been told by natives that a golden large-flowered phalænopsis was here to be found, but after a hot and weary search on rock and tree alike, no trace of any species of this genus could be found; and as I afterwards offered my informants a month's wages if they would bring me a flower of it without any result, I am inclined to think the thing a myth, like its "bright scarlet" congener. The only thing which consoled me for my disappointment was a beautiful golden-blossomed dendrobium, which has always been rare in our gardens; and I was also enabled to collect a large number of Vanda Hookeri. This last is the "Golden Duck" orchid of the Brunei Malays, and exists in quantity in the marshes near the river, and always, so far as I saw it, epiphytal, on a slender-stemmed red-fruited pandan. This hill is not above five or six hundred feet above the sea, and yet on its crest the air was quite fresh and cool. We obtained extensive views from the top over a well-wooded country. Neither pitcher plants nor rhododendrons were seen, although both exist abundantly on the Lawas hills, only a few miles away. In descending a wide detour was made through the forest in search of plants, but distinct forms were rare. On reaching the boat we bathed, and changed our clothes, which was necessary, as we were drenched to the skin, and covered with dirt from the half-rotten tree-trunks, over which we had scrambled. It was about three o'clock, of course very hot; and our boat formed quite an attraction to the bees, butterflies, and some lovely blue day-flying moths, which fluttered in the sunshine. The wild bees were indeed rather troublesome; and some of the men who were nervous at their proximity, and began to buffet them, were stung. As we ate our luncheon of boiled rice and jam, they frequently settled on our plates, but they did not attack us. The journey down the river was an easy and pleasant one. The water, which had been so high and turbid the night before, had now regained its proper level, and except exactly amid stream the surface was as smooth as a mirror. The curving nipa leaves and other vegetation were most sharply reflected from the placid surface, so clearly indeed, that one could scarcely see where reality ended, and the shadow began. The presence of the nipa palm beside the banks of eastern rivers, is almost always evidence of deep water. In the shallow parts the pink-blossomed banana and bauhinia-draped trees were most beautiful, here and there varied by elegant groups of pandanus. We stayed at intervals to examine the vegetation more closely, and did not reach the Murut settlement before nightfall. We paid off our guides, and stayed here an hour or two to rest our men. We slept in the boat, and found the mosquitoes very voracious. When the moon rose we continued our journey. In Bornean travel, near the coast, boats form the best conveyance. There are no horses, nor indeed roads suitable for them; so that all journeys inland must be performed on foot. Buffaloes may in some places be obtained. If no heavy loads have to be carried, however, one may travel quicker without them, except where deep and rapid flowing streams have to be forded, and there they are most useful. We stayed at one little sago station, where the natives were preparing the raw product. The process is very simple. The trees are cut down just as they attain maturity, the time being known by the production of the branched inflorescence. The leaves are removed, and then the trunks, which are ten to fifteen feet long, and as thick as a man's body, are split longitudinally into two halves. A man then cuts out the pith, with which the whole centre of the trunk is filled. This requires some skill. The implement employed for the purpose is an axe, formed of a bamboo-stem, fixed in a stout wooden handle, and lashed with rattan. By repeated strokes of this instrument the pith and fibres are scooped out in thin layers, care being taken to cut it out as free from lumps as possible. The pulped pith is then carried in baskets to a washing apparatus. This consists of a rudely-constructed vat, elevated on piles, beside a river or brook, whence fresh and clean water is plentifully obtainable. From the vat a spout conducts the water into a trough below. The bottom of the vat is covered with a mat or bark-strainer. The pith is now placed in the vat, and trodden, water being occasionally poured over it during the progress, and the result is that the fine sago starch is washed through, and settles in the bottom of the trough below, the coarse particles and other impurities being retained by the strainers, at the bottom of the treading-vat. After the fine sago has been allowed time to settle in the trough, the water is run off, and the white putty-looking mass below is packed up in bags, and sold to the Chinamen, by whom it is again washed and dried, previous to its being shipped to the Singapore market. Two species of sago palm grow here, forming stout-stemmed trees, thirty or forty feet in height. They are readily distinguished by the one having smooth bases to the sheathing leaf-stalks, while the other has the leaf-sheaths set with stout black spines. The smooth variety is most abundant. The dried leaf-sheaths of this palm are utilised in the manufacture of neat baskets, being neatly sown together with strips of rattan, and fitted with lids. Rattans are much used in house building, the largest timbers being secured by their aid only. It is singular that pegs or nails are never used by the Malays, except in boat-building; and the neatness and ingenuity with which rattan is used by these people is wonderful. In one of the Kadyan villages, on the Lawas, I saw a violin, the back, front, and sides of which were actually stitched together with slender strips of rattan. It had been copied from a European model, and had a much better tone than one would expect to find under the circumstances. The musical instruments made and used by the Malays and aboriginal Borneans are inferior to those of Burmah and Siam, or even to those used by the Javanese. The pentatonic scale is employed, and the music is monotonous and plaintive in its character. This is especially true of the women's songs, which are mostly of a dirge-like kind. I remember a Kadyan girl used to sing sometimes during my first visit to the Lawas, and the effect at night more especially was extremely weird and melancholy. She had a rich mellow voice, rising and falling in minor cadences, and dying away sweetly tremulous as a silver bell. This poor girl's life, however, ended suddenly. She usually walked through the clearing every day into the forest beyond to fetch in fire-wood. One day she did not return as usual, and a search was made for her along the paths in the neighbourhood without success. Some men who were returning from gutta collecting, however, found her lying beneath a large tree, and beside her was a large branch, recently broken off. It was supposed that this branch had accidentally fallen, and struck her, so causing her death. Modifications of the "cheng," or calabash pipes, are made both by the Kayans, on the Baram river, and also by the Dusun villagers, near Kina Balu. There are distinct differences between the instruments as made by each tribe. That from the Baram consists of seven pipes; six arranged in a circle around a long central one, all seven being furnished with a free reed at the base, where they are inserted in a calabash-gourd. Holes are cut in the six outer pipes for fingering; the central pipe is, however, an open or drone-pipe, the tone being intensified by fixing a loose cap of bamboo on the upper end. It is played by blowing air into the neck of the gourd, or by drawing the breath according to the effects desired. The Dusun pipes are formed of eight pipes, four short, and equal in length, and four long and unequal. Reeds are cut at the lower end in all the pipes, but the fingering is performed on the ends of the four equal short pipes, there being no holes cut in the pipes for this purpose, as in the Kayan instrument. I brought home examples of both varieties; and these are now in the Veitchian Museum at Chelsea. Two or three varieties of flutes are made, also an instrument resembling the old wooden flageolet, so common in England before the advent of the tin whistle. McNair, in his work on Perak, mentions a curiosity, in the shape of an aëolian flute, formed of a bamboo, in which holes are cut, so as to produce musical sounds when acted on by the wind. An instrument like the Jew's harp is made of a single strip of bamboo; and a curious stringed instrument is made of a joint of large yellow bamboo, the nine or ten open strings of which produce notes similar to those of a banjo, when twanged with the fingers. A specimen of this instrument may be seen in the Veitchian Museum at Chelsea, together with one of similar design but of much more complicated and finer make from Madagascar. Wooden drums, formed of hollow tree-trunks, and having goat or deer-skin tightly stretched over the ends, are common, and of various sizes. The old war-drums were made thus; but this instrument is now nearly obsolete, being to a great extent replaced by metal gongs, of native manufacture certainly; but doubtless the idea was copied from the Chinese. Nearly every trading prahu or boat carries one of these gongs; and the Muruts are very fond of such music, and keep up an incessant din on these instruments at their festivals. Sets of eight or ten small such are often fixed in a rattan and bamboo frame, and beaten with two sticks, dulcimer fashion; and I have seen similar contrivances formed of iron bars; and even strips of dry hard bamboo wood in the Sulu isles, the scale in this case being similar to our own. It is very uncommon to hear performers playing in concert, unless in the case of gong-beating; indeed, music is at a low ebb throughout the island. The songs of the boatman, on the other hand, are often pleasing and melodious. A good many of their songs are Mahomedan prayers, or chants; but occasionally the theme is on secular, and often very amusing subjects. It is common for one man to strike up a song, improvising his subject as he sings, and then all the crew laughingly join in the chorus. They keep time to the music in paddling; and I always encouraged my boatmen to sing, as it relieves the monotony of the bump, bump of the paddles against the side of the vessel, which becomes very tedious after the first hour or two. One always has to be prepared for squalls when on the sea. They are especially common at night, after very hot days. You see a black cloud lowering on the horizon. Then a cool breeze fans your cheek. You at once strike all sail. The breeze gets stronger and stronger, until you find yourself rocking about on a rough "choppy" sea, amid a hurricane of wind and rain. Thunder and lightning are especially common during the wet monsoon. The mountains behind "Thunder and Lightning Bay," to the north of the capital, are often perfectly illuminated by lightning flashes; and at times the thunder is deafening to hear. As to the lightning latent flashes of electricity are visible most nights throughout the year; and it is not uncommon to see a continuous play of lightning on the horizon, especially after very sultry days. At times the sea is so highly phosphorescent, that the boat leaves a wake of bright light in the water, and the paddles look as though moving through a caldron of molten silver. This phenomenon is most commonly observable after calm sultry weather. The sudden manner in which the rivers rise after heavy rain is wonderful; and the flat forests beside or near the rivers often become flooded. You may go to bed at night, and awake to find the native house in which you slept surrounded by acres of water a yard deep in the morning. This is especially true of flat tracts, through which streams flow near the great water-sheds inland. Considerable damage results to the cultivated patches on the hills from these sudden rains; and formidable land-slips not unfrequently take place on the steep hills near the rivers. Cultivation near the capital is, however, of a poor description, compared with the plains of Menkabong, Tawaran, and Tampassuk, or the hills further inland. A lover of nature who sees a tropical country for the first time, cannot help but enjoy the bright light and heat, the vegetable glories of flower, fruit, and leaf, called forth by the rain and sunshine--of a clime where winter is unknown. And yet, with all the sunshine and showers, the tropical blossoms are in a way aristocratic and exclusive, and never mingle socially in bosky masses, as do our own wildings; and it is not possible to name half-a-dozen of them that could at all compare with the blue-bells, or heather, the buttercups, primroses, forget-me-nots, anemones, violets, and rosy lychnis of our own cool moist woods and pastures. During a year's rambles in one of the richest and most fertile of tropical islands, I saw nothing really fresh and spring-like; nothing like the "green and gold" of daffodils, and the tender young grass of April, or the royal glory of a summer iris, or an autumnal crocus on its mossy bed. This much is ever lacking in the forest primæval; and even in gardens--Eastern gardens--beautiful as they undoubtedly are in many ways, the sameness, the cloying degree of permanency observable in the forests, becomes intensified, and so still more unsatisfying. The plants seem always to present the same aspect; and although most of them are at their best when revived by the rains, just after the dry season, yet the charm of freshness is destroyed by the number of evergreens everywhere, and the driblets of bloom kept up by them nearly all the year round. Still the beauty of tropical gardens is lovely of its kind. You have, or may have, all the tropical treasures of Kew--palms, ferns, and orchids--around you in the open air; but all this is as the beauty of a lovely woman, jaded by over-enjoyment, the whirl of a whole season's gaieties! There is elegance of form, and charm of colour, all the refinement of cultured beauty, sure enough. Victoria water-lilies, and dainty nymphæas in open air pools, the flesh-tinted blooms, and umbrageous leafage of the sacred lotus also; the noble amherstia, with its pendants of crimson and gold,--groves of feathery-leaved palms--all this, and very much more, is common; but it is astonishing how soon one tires of this plethora of floral charms, and how eager becomes the longing to sniff the homely fragrance of pinks and wall-flowers; to stoop for a violet from a mossy hedge-bank, or a snow-drop even from a cotter's garden. Indeed, there is no gainsaying the fact, as has been pointed out by Wallace and others, that the most lovely and satisfying, the most sociable of all flowers, are those of temperate climates. CHAPTER IX. A VOYAGE TO SULU. Sulu Archipelago--Long drought--Jungle fires--Sandakan--Good water supply--Insects and birds--How an alligator was utilised--A boat excursion--Visit to the shore--A Chinese trader--Chinese hospitality--Slavery--A walk by the river--Manilla hemp--Native tombs--Frangipane--or the "dead man's flower"--Rough walking--Interesting birds. After having spent some time on the north-west coast of Borneo, varied by collecting expeditions further in the interior of the Murut and Dusun countries, I took a passage on the small trading steamer Far East, bound for Sandakan and the Sulu Archipelago. An intelligent young Scotchman, Mr. W. C. Cowie, part owner and engineer, was on board, and enlivened the voyage with a fund of information relating to the habits, customs, and trade of the natives among whom we were going. We were accompanied by his brother, who was going to reside in Sulu for trading purposes, and several Chinese and Malay traders also had taken deck passages. We sailed about 7 A.M. on April 5th, and the weather being fine we obtained capital views of the Bornean coast as we steamed along. This was the greatest season of drought which had been known here for some time, nearly five months without rain, and this under a tropical sun, and in several places we could see jungle fires raging along the coast. The monsoon was dead against us, and we met numerous native boats flying down to Labuan before the wind. These were laden with pearl-shell, trepang, etc., and were mostly from the islands of Balabac and Palawan; some, however, had come round from the north-east coast of Borneo, and even from the Sulu isles. In about a fortnight the monsoon is expected to change, when they will find no difficulty in returning safely. At sunset, and again at sunrise, we saw "Kina Balu" towering up into the clouds, and apparently very near to the coast, but the distance is very deceptive. It was dark when we entered Sandakan Bay, and about three o'clock on the morning of the 8th, I was awakened by the rattling of the anchor-chains, and found we were at Sandakan itself. It is merely a small trading station consisting of about a dozen "ataps," or palm thatched houses built over the water, and a long "jimbatan," or jetty, also on piles, serves as a roadway and a landing stage for produce. At the time of my visit the only European residents were Mr. W. B. Pryer, who acted as agent and resident for the company, who had just obtained cessions of territory from the Sultans of Brunei and Sulu respectively, and Mr. Martin, a trader. There was formerly a depôt here belonging to the "Labuan Trading Company," managed by a Mr. Sachze, who died rather suddenly, as is believed by poison administered by his wife, a beautiful native woman given to intrigue. We landed at daybreak, and Mr. Cowie and myself took our guns and went for a walk in the forest behind the little group of houses. We followed a path which had been recently cut, and which led us in a northerly direction for about half a mile until we came to a stream descending the steep hill-side in a series of little falls. Pigeons were plentiful here, but the trees were too high to allow of our shooting them. We also disturbed a colony of large red monkeys, who were breakfasting on a tall fig-tree in fruit. We clambered up the hill-side and walked along the ridge for some distance. The surface vegetation was very meagre, only a few ferns being obtained, all of which I had seen before, with the exception of a bipinnate form of Blechnum orientalis, having fronds five feet in length. We retraced our steps along the ridge and descended near the houses, following for some distance the little stream which supplies beautifully clear and cool water to the houses, and ships which call in here occasionally. This stream falls over the sandstone rocks about a hundred yards from the houses, to which it is conveyed by a large bamboo aqueduct. Quite near to the rocks a neat little bath house has been erected, and through the upper part of this structure the bamboo water-pipe is carried, and by blocking it up with a plug a delicious shower-bath is obtainable. We sent for our towels and clean clothes from the ship, and enjoyed our morning ablutions very much. The noble Dipteris Horsfieldii was luxuriant on the rocks here, and a fine scarlet ixora was a perfect mass of bloom. While searching for plants on the wet rocks near the bath-house, I was startled by a snake popping its head out of a bunch of herbage just level with my face! I struck at it with a stick I had in my hand, but it made its escape apparently unhurt, and perhaps more frightened than I was, although I entertain a horror of these creatures. Returning to the ship I shot a fine fish hawk as it flew overhead on its way to the forest. After breakfast we paid Mr. Pryer a visit, and enjoyed looking over splendid collections of Lepidoptera and Coleoptera which he had made here. Some of the butterflies and beetles were especially fine, and several were supposed to be new to science. He had also a small collection of bird skins made here, but I noted nothing among them different to those of the north-west coast. When Mr. Pryer first came to live here the natives had annoyed him a good deal by coming below the house at night and stealing rice. This they did by making a hole through the bags with a spear, so that the rice ran through the interstices of the lath floor, and was caught in a vessel held below for that purpose. One day, however, a tolerably large and healthy alligator was brought in for sale, and with the eye of a naturalist, Mr. Pryer at once saw his chance. The ugly creature was purchased and confined beneath the house, and it is needless to add that the nocturnal pilfering in that direction was immediately discontinued. Alligators of enormous dimensions are said to be very common here, but we had to be satisfied with a glimpse of a shark in the bay. Elephants are said to come down to the banks of the Sagaliad river, and a young rhinoceros was actually shot there a few months only after the time of our visit. Having borrowed a boat and obtained a native crew we landed on two of the islands in the bay, and found them equally barren. The only plants of interest we noticed were one or two species of palms, which I had not seen elsewhere, and of one of these I obtained a large quantity of seeds. We saw plenty of curlew, and large flocks of milk white cranes or "padi birds," rested on the trees near the shore. It was nearly dusk when we returned to the ship, and being wet and dirty, as one almost invariably is on exploring tours in the forest and jungle, we were glad to visit the little bath-house once more, and change our clothes before dinner on the cool upper deck of the little steamer. At daybreak I was awoke by the rattling of the chains as the anchor was weighed, and in a few minutes afterwards Sandakan was behind us as we steamed away to the Sulu Archipelago. We reached Meimbong on the evening of the 10th, and anchored just off the traders' houses, which, as is usual here, are built on piles far enough out from the shore for vessels to anchor at the little jetty before the doors. Sulu is about thirty-six hours steaming from Sandakan, but in this case we were longer. We reached the islands at the entrance to the harbour of Meimbong just at sundown, and were much impressed by the indications of cultivation and fertility which they presented. We could also see the cultivated patches and the fruit groves on the Sulu hills quite plainly, while the cool fresh evening air was deliciously perfumed, with what we afterwards found to be a mint-like plant (Hyptis suaveolens), very common throughout the island, especially in waste places and cornfields. After dinner we went ashore to see an old Chinaman named "Peah," one of the principal traders in the place. His house was half house and half warehouse, consisting of a large front room the entire length of the house with some private apartments behind, the kitchen, as is usual, being a separate structure at the end of the dwelling. Half the large front room consisted of a raised platform about four feet in height, carpeted with finely-worked pandan mats, and covered with a fancy chintz canopy, fringed in front. Cushions were piled up on the parti-coloured mats, and between these and the partition behind fancy coloured boxes were piled ostentatiously, each secured by a brass lock of Chinese manufacture. On entering we found "Peah" sitting on the platform talking to some Sulu traders, his wife, a neat little Chinese woman, and about a dozen slaves and attendants, mostly Sulu girls. The room was but dimly illuminated with cocoa-nut oil lamps, but a couple of composite candles were brought on our arrival, and installed in two fancy glass holders. The girls ran away to the kitchen to prepare chocolate, which, together with biscuits, was soon handed round, after which one of the dusky belles brought us nipa leaf cigarettes very deftly made. A long "bichara," or talk on trading and other topics now took place, gin and water being handed round at intervals. We afterwards had some music on a kind of harmonica, formed of about a dozen small gongs of graded sizes, arranged in a bamboo frame, these being beaten dulcimer-like by two sticks to an accompaniment of five or six larger gongs and of some Malay drums. The whole made a deafening noise as I thought, but at a distance some very pleasant effects are produced, the smaller gongs sounding quite sweet and bell-like in tone. It is not an uncommon practice for Sulu parents to sell their children, or for them to be taken into slavery, as payment for some debt previously contracted by their parents or guardians. It is a kind of slavery, however, like that in Borneo, which is not so objectionable as it sounds, since they enjoy pretty much liberty, and are often far better off in the way of food and clothing than if they were free; nor are they torn from their home and friends as in the case of the poor African of years ago. As I have said they are well treated and are rarely chastised, but we had one instance of this being done during the time we lay in harbour here. A well-known Chinese trader from Labuan "Cheng Ting" had brought with him a young Chinese servant, or "boy" about twenty years of age, and for a Chinaman remarkably handsome, with a jet black pig-tail hanging nearly as low as his heels. This "boy" was a great favourite with "Peah's" Sulu girls, especially with one whom we, not knowing by name, had christened the "gipsy," a remarkably well made girl with expressive eyes, high cheek-bones, and luxuriant hair, all of which was, doubtless, altogether too much for the tender susceptibilities of a young oriental. We lay close alongside the pile wharf, and one night were awoke by a woman's piercing shrieks, and the loud voices of several men, and on our going to see the cause we found the youthful oriental in the hands of a couple of "Peah's" coolies, who stripped this celestial Adonis, and tying him to a post by his queue, they gave him a dozen or so with a rattan, at which he did bawl most lustily, much to the amusement of his captors. And she, the dusky Venus, was handed over to Mrs. "Peah," who corrected her privately in the women's apartment, and afterwards chained the erring damsel in a space below her own bed, so as to prevent her stealing out to midnight meetings again during our stay. I do not think either of the culprits were hurt much, and despite the yells of the "boy," the rascal was jolly enough and full of bravado when he came on board in the morning. The first morning after our arrival I and Mr. Cowie took a boat at sunrise and pulled down to the market place. Leaving our boat at the Orang Kayu's house we walked through the narrow gateway, and crossing the place where the market is held, just outside the barricade, we followed the course of the river for some distance, and obtained capital shooting at the large blue pigeons, evidently the same species as that so common in Borneo. We should have had much better sport, only that about a dozen of the "lads of the village" followed like curs at our heels, and they ran riot as soon as ever they saw a bird fall, and in their eagerness to clutch it they did a good deal of damage to a long-tailed rufous brown pigeon which I shot here for the first time and wished to preserve. Their frantic leaping, splashing and yelling in the little stream and on its banks also frightened away many birds before we could get within range, while anything like remonstrance was so much labour thrown away. White and green paroquets flew screaming overhead as they left the tall trees near the coast, where they had evidently roosted for the night, and were now most probably on their way to their feeding grounds, the fruit trees in the forest further inland. We crossed several cultivated patches, and growing in clumps near the native houses we saw quantities of Musa textilis cultivated here, and also in the Philippines, the fibre being used for cordage, and it is also largely imported into this country under the name of "manilla hemp." On waste places beside the river, Quisqualis indica was very abundant, forming bushes about four feet in height, its slender branches being literally borne down to the ground by the weight of its flowers, which hung in immense clusters from the points of its branches. On our return we made a detour to the right and came upon several graves, a few of which were fenced in with bushes and had rude headstones, or a post to mark the spot. Other graves were neglected and overgrown with weeds. Here a variety of the "Frangipane" (Plumieria acuminata), was very lovely, bearing immense clusters of its waxy flowers which exhale a most delicious odour. These flowers are white with a yellow centre, and are flushed with purple behind. This plant, or, as seen here in Sulu, small tree, is common throughout the Malay region, and is by the natives esteemed as a suitable decoration for the graves of their friends. Its Malay name of "Bunga orang sudah mati," meaning literally, "Dead man's flower." We returned to the river near the market-place and obtained a nice cool bath previous to returning for breakfast on board. About two o'clock we all returned, and leaving the boat in a creek a little beyond the headman's house, we bore across the plain to the right through an orchard-like grove of teak-trees. I had stopped to load my gun before starting, and when I hastened on to rejoin my friends, I found them at the foot of a dead teak-tree, where they had kindly awaited my coming to point out a pretty pink-flowered orchid which was clinging to the naked branches right in the blazing sunshine, and flowering most profusely. We at last came to an undulating plain of coarse "lallang" grass four feet in height, while the soil at our feet was thickly paved with vitrified slag or scoriæ, the product of the island during its volcanic epoch. It was very hot, and the walking over the sharp stones, hidden as they were in the tall grass, was, to say the least of it, very troublesome. We had expected to find deer or wild pig in the patches of thick jungle which occur here and there, but the dogs were too wild and did not hunt the ground well. Along the edge of a bit of old forest we obtained an occasional shot at a bird or two, and amongst others we secured a golden oriole with black wing, tips and tail, a small hawk, and a large greenish paroquet, together with several pigeons. The black and white and large blue pigeons were extremely plentiful here, as also were white paroquets, but these last were too wary to allow us within range. I made several dips into the patches of old forest in search of plants, but nothing of interest was seen. Orchids appeared to be very rare, and with the exception of a dingy yellow-flowered cleisostoma which grew rather plentifully on the teak-trees, nothing more was seen. We had had a long and wearying walk, and it was about half-an-hour before sundown when we returned to the boat and pulled to the ship for dinner. I was very tired, but altogether pleased at having secured at least one new species of orchid as well as two or three birds that I had never seen before. After dinner I occupied myself in sketching my new pink orchid and in helping my "boy" skin the birds I wished to preserve. I was happy in the labour, and no description could possibly convey any idea of that delight which fills one when new and beautiful objects of natural history are discovered for the first time. CHAPTER X. A ROYAL PIG-HUNT. A royal boar hunt--The Sultan of the Sulus--Sultana and ladies of the court--Sulu costume and arms--Fine breed of ponies--Rough ground--Pig sticking--Food for the dogs--A pleasing sight--Invitation to the Istana--Datu Mahomed--The Sulu "Prince of Wales"--Curious saddles--Pony racing--Meimbong stream--Pleasant evening light--Birds--Large bats--Abundance of butterflies--Fine fish--Good angling--The "Hill of Tears"--Sugh, the old capital--Market at Meimbong--Tobacco--Native produce--Chain armour--Chinese settlers. Soon after dinner one of the Sultan's "ministers" came on board to tell us that a grand pig-hunt was to be held on the morrow, at which the Sultan and suite were to be present, and as royal boar-hunts are not every-day affairs, we all made up our minds to get ponies and go to see the sport. These pig-hunting forays are as popular in Sulu as a royal stag-hunt at home, only that the Sulus have perhaps a better reason to hunt their wild pigs, since they do a deal of damage to the growing crops. About 9 o'clock in the morning we went down to the headman's house at Meimbong and got our ponies saddled, and after a ride of about half-an-hour through long grass and bushes we came upon the beaters and dogs in a strip of low jungle at the foot of a little hill. The men were yelling and shouting so as to frighten the pigs from their covert out into the grassy plain, where horsemen, each armed with a long slender-shafted hunting-spear, were waiting in readiness to give chase and dispatch them. We, too, waited here a little while, but finding no signs of sport we rode on to a clump of low trees on the hill-side where we were told the Sultan and his people were waiting. We found His Highness had dismounted, and was sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree, smoking and watching for signs of sport. He looked pleased to see us, and after he had shaken hands with Mr. Cowie, whom he had long known, I was introduced to him. Mr. Cowie told him I had come to explore the island for natural history purposes, and that I particularly wished to ascend the two highest mountains. He seemed rather amused to hear of a traveller looking for flowers and birds, but graciously replied that I could go where I liked and he would tell his people to help me, adding, that the best way of reaching the highest mountain would be to come to his Istana and sleep there, after which the mountain could be ascended in a day from that place. I had previously been recommended to his good offices by the government at Labuan through their consular agent, Inche Mahomed, of Brunei, who had landed here in Sulu a day or two previously in H.M. gunboat "Fly," Capt. McNeil. As I saw His Highness here seated on a fallen tree I could not help noticing how emblematical the position was, since at the best his position here as Sultan is but nominal, so fallen are the fortunes of his house. Only two months after my visit, i.e., in July, 1878, the Spaniards, after nibbling like timid mice at the Sulu cheese for centuries took formal possession of the whole island by hoisting their flag in the Sultan's capital of Meimbong. Behind him the Sultana and the ladies of her Court were mounted on ponies, one or two scarlet and gold coloured umbrellas being held over them. Altogether there were ten or twelve mounted ladies and several female attendants, betel-box carriers, &c., on foot. The Sultan himself had forty or fifty followers standing around in a broken circle. He is about thirty-five years of age, and has a bright and intelligent countenance. His dress consisted of an embroidered silk kerchief tied turban fashion on his head, a dark close-fitting jacket of semi-transparent material, embroidered with red and yellow flowers, and having tight sleeves. Under this he wore a white merino vest. Like most of his followers he wore breeches which fit very tight below the knee, and are wide and baggy in the seat. These were black and beautifully embroidered with flowers just below the knee. White socks and elastic-sided boots of European manufacture completed what my sailor friends called "his queer rig." His eldest son, an "awful young sweep," of about twenty years of age, was much more gaily attired in a white striped blue vest and trowsers, and a bright buff head-dress, while, like his father, he wore the short heavy Sulu sword or "barong." The Sultana and her suite kept in the background, of course, but were evidently much interested at our visit. I noted that she wore full Turkish trowsers of blue silk richly embroidered, and a blue vest fitting very tight and ornamented with gold buttons, lace in front, using the universal sarong as a covering for her shoulders; around her head a clear buff kerchief was tied turban fashion; white cotton stockings and a pair of Chinese slippers completed her outward visibilities. Nearly all the Sulu women wear a deal of yellow, which contrasts vividly with their luxuriant black hair, and like the men they ride well and also in the same style,--exactly, fair reader,--à la fourchette! We also had dismounted, of course, and had stood talking and looking on the particoloured scene and swarthy faces around us, when suddenly a cry from the jungle below, a regular chorus of men and dogs, told us that the bristly boar had at last been driven into the open grass to run for his life. Everybody, Sultan and all, scrambled to their ponies and away we all went, a gay cavalcade truly, down the hill-side. Presently the pig came in sight, followed by one or two miserable-looking curs and half-a-dozen men and boys on horseback, each armed with the long light-shafted spear. We now saw of what sterling metal the Sulu ponies are made. On they came with dilated nostrils and widely-spread forefeet, scarcely requiring a touch of the reins to guide them as they avoided a jutting rock here or a half-hidden "snag" there, and all the time turned and wheeled as quickly as the hunted pig itself. No European horse would have kept its legs ten minutes on this uneven ground, paved as it was with immense blocks of volcanic scoriæ. These intelligent little beasts seemed actually to understand and enjoy the sport. One young fellow, mounted on a shapely little grey, at length came up alongside the pig. Throwing his hempen bridle on the pony's neck, and deftly handling his long spear, he wounded the boar in the side, at which it turned and rushed at the horse, its long white curved tusks gleaming beside its open jaws. Quick as thought the pony avoided him, and ere the pig could stay its impetuous rush the rider's spear was struck right through its body at a thrust, the gleaming blade having entered the soil to a depth of several inches. It was killed on the spot. The rider unfastened a length of slender manilla rope from his saddle and threw it to a man on foot, who slipped a noose over the body of the pig and afterwards tied the other end of the rope to the horse's tail, and thus it was dragged away to the heap of slain porkers some distance off. Seeing a couple of horsemen galloping in another direction we concluded they had a pig in chase, and so it proved. We headed the game and they soon came up to it, and a thrust or two with the deadly spear and all was over with poor piggie. This was a small black fellow about half the size of an English boar. Not entertaining the prejudices of our Mahomedan friends we begged the body of this last pig, and when the captors asked for what purpose we required it, we discreetly replied that we wanted it for our dogs. This was satisfactory, and one of the men volunteered to drag it down to the boat at his pony's tail. I shall not forget the Royal Pig Hunt in Sulu for some time. There we were among the tall grass and jungle, and the ever changing position of the numerous gaily attired horsemen was a beautiful sight to see. A group of fox-hunters at home by a covert side is a pleasing sight, but here in the region of perpetual sunshine and palm-leaves--in this "beautiful isle of the sea"--the sight was not only pleasing but quite a novelty to us--a thing seen for the first time, and perchance an experience never to be enjoyed again. Down below us we could see long files of horsemen wending their way to another piece of covert which the men on foot and dogs were now beating, while, on the little rounded hill above, the Sultana and her ladies formed a bright and picturesque group on horseback, their large vividly-coloured umbrellas standing out clear and sharp against the cloudless sky. We saw the Sultan again towards the close of the day, and had a further chat with him, in which he much regretted that the English would not help him to resist the aggressions of his neighbours, the Spaniards, whom the Sultan detests, and perhaps not without reason. He sent a man to see how many pigs had been killed, and on being told seventeen, he observed, that they had sometimes killed as many as fifty in one day's hunting. Thanking him for his invitation to us to visit him at the Istana, which he had again repeated, we bade him adieu, and returned towards Meimbong, well pleased with our day's adventures. The Sultan and his suite rode towards the Istana, but his son, before alluded to, accompanied us with a posse of his young followers. When we reached the arable plain near the market-place, we came upon another group of hunters, and nothing would please the young rascal but that I and Mr. Cowie should try some of his father's horses. They are beautiful creatures of the Sulu breed, but with a little of the Arab blood added. They are never shod, and in picking their way among rocks or fallen trunks of trees they are as sure-footed as a goat. We had some capital racing. The Sulu saddles are of wood, very small, with high wooden pommels, resembling those of a cavalry saddle. The stirrups are represented by a woven hemp riband four feet long and about an inch wide, with a loop at each end, through which the big toe of the rider is inserted. This riband passes through an opening over the top of the saddle, and is not fixed, but slides backwards and forwards according to the pressure brought to bear on it by the rider. Of course, I could not ride on one of these little saddles with sliding stirrups, so I had them taken off and returned to my boyish practice of bare-backed riding. These ponies had been out hunting all day and yet showed no traces of fatigue, indeed they flew over the dry clods at full speed and evidently were quite used to racing--appearing to enjoy it as much as we did ourselves. After this sport was concluded we returned on board to dinner, after having stopped for a few minutes at the ford near the market to get a bath in the stream, which is here as clear and sparkling as a Derbyshire brook. This day's public amusement taking place as it did so soon after my arrival was a most fortunate thing for me, since I thus obtained an introduction to the Sultan and most of his people, and wherever I wandered in the island afterwards I was always well received, which was lucky, since the Sulus are not noted for their civility to strangers. Even the small cotters who cultivate their little farms and fruit groves up on the hills had heard of me, and were very hospitable when, as happened soon afterwards, I found my way up amongst them. The Sulu hills are especially beautiful. Nearly every day, morning and evening, we used to go down to the little Meimbong river near the Orang Kayu's house to bathe; and in the evening especially the tops of the highest hills were lovely, glowing with warmth in the golden light; now clear, now hazy, the last tremulous kisses of the lingering sun. I used to walk a mile or two up the left bank of the winding river nearly every evening before I had my bath, and I nearly always took my gun, as the birds here were tolerably plentiful, and in some cases very beautiful or interesting. There are at least a dozen kinds of pigeons and doves; and three of the species I shot, I had never seen before. Paroquets are common, and fly shrieking overhead morning and evening. I shot four kinds in all, two large green ones, a white one, and a small green one having a blue head, and a pair of long-shafted, racquet-shaped feathers in its tail. One of the most conspicuous of the birds here is the gold and black oriole before mentioned, and a blackbird having a grey back and immense flesh-coloured orbits is not uncommon on trees beside the river. Two species of kingfisher were seen; one the common blue kind, with a white ring around its neck, and a discordant, laughing note: white padi birds, curlew, sandpipers, and a crow, are also quite common; eagles, ospreys, and hawks also abound; and I especially noticed an eagle or harrier circling over the grassy plains, regularly hunting the ground, and occasionally stooping as if to secure its prey. This bird is pure white, with black wing tips and tail. A water-rail was seen beside the river near the town, and night-flying birds of the owl tribe were also observed; but the familiar "chuck-chuck" note of the "night-jar," so common on moonlight nights in Labuan, we never once heard here. I saw one large owl dead, and much regret that I did not skin and preserve it, badly as the thing was mutilated. It resembled our native "barn owl" in general appearance and colour, but was much larger, the spread of its soft fledged wings being over four feet. I saw one species of hornbill on the hills and a pheasant, which, from the momentary glimpse I caught of it, I took to belong to the "fireback" species, so common in some parts of Borneo. Deer are said to be plentiful; but we did not catch a glimpse of them, although when riding in the interior I have often disturbed the wild pigs among the long-matted grass near the river. An enormous species of day-flying bat was quite common here near the Sultan's palace, and most weird and supernatural did they appear on dull days, solemnly flying from one tree to another, their great wings distended against the leaden sky overhead. As far as I could see they were feeding on the durian trees which surround the Istana, and probably sipping the nectar from the large white flowers. I shot one which measured four feet six inches across its outspread wings, and its head was as large as that of a little terrier dog, and of a similar shape, being of a dark foxey brown colour. Its eyes were of a sickly pale brown tint, with a small black pupil, and its entire body in the warm limpness of death exhaled such a repulsive musky odour, far worse than any downright stink I ever experienced, and so penetrating and adhesive, that my hands smelt of it for days, in spite of carbolic soap and repeated washings. I had no means of ascertaining whether this is really a distinct species, or whether it is conspecific with the large nocturnal fruit-bat of Borneo, immense flocks of which may be seen passing overhead at dusk to their feeding-grounds, the fruit orchards. Of all the smaller forms of animal life in temperate countries the butterflies are the most absolutely beautiful. In the tropics they are especially so, being there found of the largest size and most lovely hues. In the rice fields and by the open pathways, lively little golden-winged kinds flutter in the sunshine. Some are quite wholly golden, others amber, with black fringes to their wings; many varieties enliven the river margins, and others sail aloft around the tops of the great forest trees. The nearly dry bed of a forest stream is an attractive spot to many of the finest tropical butterflies, especially if it be chequered with shade and sunshine. In such a place they may be seen by the hundred, flitting, fluttering, skimming or wobbling to and fro, enlivening the cool greenery with their colour, beauty, and variety of motion. Here you see them at home and happy. Their colours defy description, so variable do they appear as seen in the sunlight; sulphur and black, amber and blue, velvety bands, purple shot with bronze, wings of blue, inclining to green, and of green inclining to blue, and of velvety blackness banded with pea or apple-green, are only a few of their combinations. Their beauty of presence is so satisfying, that we almost forget their life history, the egg so dainty in form, and often so beautiful in sculpture, the caterpillar, attractive in its way, and chiefly remarkable for its leaf-eating powers; then the long sleep in a silken hammock, and finally a sunny awakening into life and beauty as a daintily painted butterfly. There must be something in the climate or vegetation of the Sulu islands especially favourable to insect life, and nowhere else did I see butterflies so plentiful as here, not only in the forest and by the river, but around the houses of Meimbong itself. The site of the market being littered with fragments of fruit and other débris, was especially attractive to them; on being disturbed they fluttered away in crowds, only to return almost immediately to feast on the wasted sweets, and to open and close their gorgeous wings in the sunshine. We were fortunate in obtaining plenty of fresh fish while lying in harbour here, and there were many kinds, some being strikingly beautiful in colour. Herrings and mackerel--or fish which so closely resemble them in size, colour, and flavour, that we did not distinguish the difference, were often brought on board. A singular white "ink fish," having large dark eyes and long tentacles, is eaten both by natives and Chinese. A large fish of a vermilion colour, in shape like a large carp, is plentiful and nice eating, as also is a similarly shaped species of an ashy grey colour, its sides delicately banded with blue and yellow. In the river are freshwater fish a couple of pounds or more in weight, and good angling is obtainable. Captain McNeil caught a nice basketful or two with rod and line by whipping down stream in the true Devonshire style. One of the fish he captured would weigh nearly two pounds, and had a sharp spined dorsal fin like an English perch. Mr. Cowie maintains that he has seen real spotted trout taken out of this water; but I think some other kind must be meant, although the water is quite pure enough for that gentlemanly little fish. From what I have written it will be seen that although Sulu cannot now afford elephant or tiger hunting like Malacca, India, or Ceylon, there is plenty of sport obtainable here nevertheless; indeed there are few countries eastward where better hunting, shooting, and rod-fishing can be obtained. Sulu as seen from a distance on board a ship out at sea, appears to be nearly all under cultivation; but on riding into the interior a good deal of uncultivated land and jungle is seen. The jungle portion has mostly been under cultivation in former years, and is now lying fallow previous to its vegetation being again cleared off by fire ready for the rude plough-culture here adopted. As approached from the westward the island is really very picturesque, two or three of its peaks rising from two to three thousand feet above sea level; these are separated from the coast by gentle undulating hills or flattish plains. One or two of the high hills are quite denuded of the old forest, and cultivation extends to their summits. The two highest peaks, however, are still clothed with the forest primæval, and it was these two that I so much wished to explore. The highest is Bu'at Timantangis, or "Hill of Tears." I was curious to know why such a poetic title had been applied to the highest of the Sulu peaks, and so I made inquiries. In all cases the natives agreed as to the "reason why," which is this. When the Sulu boats sail away towards the horizon on their trading excursions, this peak is the last bit of their native land which is visible; it is the "white cliffs of old England" to them; and the wanderers being accustomed to remember their peaceful sunlit homes and their friends, drop a tear as the last glimpse of their native earth fades from sight, perhaps for months, or even years; hence the name Bu'at Timantangis, or the "Hill of Tears." Bu'at Dahau is, however, but little less in altitude; and it is doubtless at its apex that the last crater in the island existed, although of course it has long been extinct; yet the course of the débris thrown out can be seen down its sides, which are scarred or furrowed by volcanic action in a very marked manner. Sugh, the ancient capital,--or Banawa as the place is now called--is in the hands of the Spaniards, and pretty regular communication is kept up from thence to Manilla and the Philippine group. One of the Chinese traders who came with us visited the place and brought back several jars of excellent biscuits and a few boxes of fine Manilla cigars. There are two market-places in Meimbong, and there are three markets during the week; and as very few places afford a better epitome of the thrift of a people or the produce of a country than a market, I will briefly allude to what I saw of these held here. We went to bathe early one morning, and saw the market-people coming in from all directions and bringing produce of the most varied character. Most of them--both men and women--were mounted on ponies or buffaloes; some indeed ride their cows to market as being preferable to walking, their produce being slung across the saddle before or behind. Every man carried a spear, and a couple of hours later the space beneath the clumps of bamboo just to the left of the market gate, was crowded with people, the women trading, and the men standing talking in groups, all the business of the day being done amid a forest of spears. The country people from the hills were very much interested in us as we moved about amongst them and their goods. Sweet potatoes, mangoes, bananas, yams and corn cobs, were offered for sale in neatly woven baskets made of cocoa-nut leaves. The leaves of piper betel made up into little packets, and lime beautifully fine and white (made by burning coral limestone and shells) were offered to betel-chewers; nor was a good supply of the betel-nuts themselves wanting. We especially noticed a very large fruited variety of Areca catechu here, which I had never before seen, the individual fruits being as large as a hen's egg, and of a clear bright yellow colour. The typical form so common in Singapore and Labuan, has fruits the size of a pigeon's egg only, and of a clear orange-red colour. Tobacco leaves of native growth and manufacture were exposed for sale in bundles, and some of it is made up into balls as large as a man's head, and several pounds in weight. Although tobacco can be easily grown here, it is but little valued, owing to faulty preparation; and the inferior Chinese tobacco is preferred by the Sulus to their own produce, and is a regular kind of currency in which almost all small payments may be made. Thus, the hire of a pony for a day is about two bundles; a day's wage for a man about the same. The wholesale price in Singapore is about sixpence a bundle, or even less. At the time of our visit rice was very scarce and dear in Sulu; indeed as much as ten dollars per picul was paid, while horses and cattle were relatively very cheap. Thus good buffaloes could be bought for eight or ten dollars each; cattle at six to fifteen dollars a head, and ponies at ten to twenty dollars; indeed many of the people were well nigh starving owing to the last war and the dry season combined; and in many cases they were glad to sell their cattle for rice, or the means of obtaining it. Among the few articles of native manufacture offered for sale, I noticed embroidered kerchiefs and sarongs, also rope of good quality. Fish, eggs, cocoa-nuts, jack-fruit, and cucumbers, were exceedingly plentiful. It is not uncommon to see some few of the Sulus from the hills wearing tunics of chain armour, having brass plates on the breast and down the back, all the rest being fine chain-work. At the time of our visit Mr. Cowie bought one of these tunics for about two pounds, which he paid in rice. The Sulus themselves say that these were formerly made in the island, but I think this is extremely doubtful; and it is far more probable that this armour formerly belonged to their old enemies the Spaniards, from whom they have obtained it during the numerous wars between them. The most singular thing is that the comparatively few Sulus who possess these tunics should continue to wear them, as they most assuredly do. There are a good few Chinese settlers here in Meimbong who have stalls on which to expose their goods in the markets. They supply needles, thread, betel-nut knives, cheap calico and print goods, handkerchiefs, and occasionally blades of the choppers generally used in Sulu, and other common cutlery, looking-glasses, boxes, &c. The currency here is now the Chinese brass "cash," the rate of exchange at the time of my visit being 900 to the dollar. Payments of small amounts however, say up to twenty dollars, can always be made in white or "grey shirting." The packets of Chinese tobacco before alluded to, serve for small change. CHAPTER XI. THE SULTAN'S ISTANA AND THE "HILL OF TEARS." A moonlight ride--A fragrant weed--The Istana--Modern armament--"Gelah"--Royal hospitality--A social servant--The Sultan--State sword or "Barong"--A Sulu dinner--A long audience--Curiosity of the ladies--Departure to the mountain--A newly-made grave--Orchids at home--A treat for our cattle--Rough climbing--Ferns and mosses--The summit--Good views--Old traditions of the mountain--A picnic under cocoa-nut palms--"Gelah" v. Hennessy--Return to the Istana--Further audience of the Sultan--Former civilisation--Carved wood-work--Old manufactures--Old enemies--Physique of the Sulus--A pearl among the swine--Market-people--Slavery--Language--Land culture--Native food products--Domestic animals--Sea fruit. One evening about sundown, immediately after an early dinner on board, we set off to the Sultan's Istana, which is situated just at the foot of Bu'at Timantangis, the highest mountain in the island. The distance from the harbour at Meimbong is seven or eight miles, a pleasant ride indeed across an undulating and tolerably well cultivated plain. We had ordered our ponies to be in readiness at the Orang Kayu's house, and the boatmen who accompanied us from the ship soon saddled them for us and made all ready. Mr. Anson Cowie accompanied me. We had three ponies, two for ourselves, and one for a Sulu lad who had charge of our stores, guns, &c., and who came to attend to the ponies and accompany us up the mountain, to ascend which was the main object of our journey. All the little details requisite at starting attended to, it was nearly seven o'clock as we rode through the market gate, just opposite the headman's house--a veritable needle's eye--there being barely room for a slim Sulu pony and its rider to squeeze through. The moon was in the full, and rose as we started over the plain. We had a delightful gallop, and had no need of a guide, as the horses knew the way perfectly well. It had been a remarkably hot day, but it was now deliciously cool, the soft air being gratefully redolent with the odour of a mint-like plant (Hyptis) before mentioned. We laughed and sang to our heart's content, and doubtless much to the surprise of the few Sulus we met hurrying homewards. It seems strange that these beautiful and well cultivated islands should be still the last great stronghold of piracy in the eastern seas. This has been the great blot on the Sulu character for centuries; and they are also credited with having poisoned many of the traders who formerly visited the island, and to whom they had become largely indebted for goods. We reached the Istana soon after eight o'clock, and tying our ponies to the verandah we ascended to the audience-chamber above. Here, in this chamber, we noticed two small Armstrong guns mounted on low carriages, and a Gatling gun or mitrailleuse was also conspicuous. The presence of the modern armament here would have been rather puzzling had we not known that the Sultan had obtained these guns from the steam-ship America, as the first instalment of the rental or payment which has to be made annually to the Sultan on account of his having ceded Sandakan and his territory in North Borneo to Baron Overbeck's Company. Velvet-lined armchairs were immediately placed for us at a round table below the raised platform, and refreshments consisting of excellent chocolate and sweet biscuits were brought in. The Sultan's own servant or "boy," "Gelah," a most amusing fellow, saw that we were properly attended to, and told us that His Highness would soon be in to welcome us. After the chocolate, brandy and excellent Manilla cigars appeared under the direction of "Gelah," who seemed to know the habits of Englishmen tolerably well. He spoke Malay better than most of the others, and this language formed the only means of communication we had. The attendants not having brought a corkscrew, he sent off to fetch one, and then poured us out a glass each. It was Three Star Hennessy, and very good. After helping us, the imp took up one of the chocolate cups, poured a little water into it to rinse it, and then slung it out at the open door. He then very coolly nearly filled the cup with brandy and tossed it off neat without wincing; he also helped himself to the cigars as though to the manner born. As soon as we entered several boys, superintended by an old woman, had brought in a lot of cushions and arranged them on the platform near us. A lamp, and fancy betel and cigarette boxes were next brought and arranged. The Sultan himself appeared on the platform soon after we had finished eating, and shook hands with us very affably before he reclined on the cushions which had been placed for him. He came in with a dignified step and reclined very gracefully; but as conversation warmed up he sat upright on the edge of the platform with his legs dangling down in front, apparently as free and easy as a schoolboy on a rail fence. A good many Sulus came in during the evening, so that at ten o'clock the space between the platform and the door was pretty well filled. Some of his people had evidently told him of my propensity for sketching, and he asked to see my sketch-book. Amongst other things therein was a rough sketch of a "barong" or sword, and its carved sheath belonging to the old Orang Kayu at Meimbong, which His Highness at once recognised, and he sent off "Gelah" to fetch a valuable one of his own, which was, as he told me, of Sulu manufacture. The blade was beautifully finished, having an inlaid representation of a scorpion on one side and a centipede on the other, together with some Arabic dates of important events. The handle was of ivory, carved and mounted in chased gold and pearls. I made a sketch of this weapon, at which he was greatly pleased, and he watched every line and touch with great interest. We had dined previous to our leaving the ship, and I had congratulated myself earlier in the evening at having been lucky enough to escape eating more than a biscuit with my cup of chocolate; but even after ten o'clock our table was loaded with more edibles. There were dishes of snowy rice, biscuits, excellent fish, curried fowl, eggs boiled, and some bananas and other fruit. The whole was daintily cooked and well served. With a graceful wave of the hand he requested us to satisfy the hunger which, as he said, he felt sure had been occasioned by the long ride we had been so good as to undergo in order to visit him. Of course there was nothing for it but to fall to; and I must say that we both enjoyed the fresh fish and rice, and the well-made curry very much. Clean water and glasses were placed on the table, and chocolate was again brought in. After this meal more brandy and water and cigars were introduced to our notice by "Gelah," and we kept up a conversation with His Highness until after twelve o'clock, when he withdrew after having had a peep to see that our sleeping apartment was in good order. As soon as his back was turned towards us--almost before, "Gelah" pocketed all the surplus cigars and took another cup of neat brandy,--his example being followed by one or two of the other attendants. We retired to our room for the night; and then the Sultan's son, Datu Mahomed, and "Bottelah," the Sultan's secretary, together with two or three others, including "Gelah," came in for a chat, so that we did not get a chance of sleeping a wink until after two o'clock. Even when we were alone in our sleeping apartment, and had reclined just as we were in our clothes on the cushions and finely worked mats spread out for us, I somehow felt conscious that we were watched; and once I caught a glimpse of a dark figure gliding past a square opening in the wall above. Our room communicated with the audience chamber which we had just left, by a window-like opening about two feet square. The lights in the large chamber had been extinguished, while we, as is customary in the East, had a glimmering oil lamp in our room, so that any one in the audience chamber could see us plainly, without being themselves seen. We had no fear of treachery, and yet could not help feeling a creeping sensation of uneasiness as shadow after shadow passed the opening to the right of which we lay. At length a shadow lingering longer than usual, I sprang to my feet and put my head through the opening. A little suppressed scream, and the patter of bare feet on the platform on the other side, followed by muffled titters and whispering, told the tale. The ladies of the court, debarred by etiquette from seeing us publicly, had taken advantage of the darkness to obtain a peep at us. Barefooted, they had moved more silently than mice on the platform in the next room, and had satisfied their curiosity by stealing to the opening one after another, and looking down on us to their hearts' content. After this we got an hour or two of rest, and awoke at daybreak, when everybody was astir. We found our breakfast ready, and our ponies were saddled and at the door. The men whom the Sultan had promised us as guides, and a buffalo to carry down plants, were also waiting, and "Gelah" was eager to accompany us by order of his royal master. Breakfast over, we started off in excellent spirits up a gently rising path leading past a burial ground, and beneath some of the finest Durian trees in the island. A newly made grave ornamented with flowers and the young flower-stems of the betel-nut palm, was pointed out to us as being that of a man who had been shot at the Istana in a squabble about one of the ladies of the court. It appears that the man's wife having died he wanted to carry off a relation of his who now belonged to the Sultana's suite, and in the row which followed he met with his death. Our ride was a very pleasant one, and led us up through several cultivated patches with here and there a belt of jungle. Soon after leaving the Istana an aerides was seen flowering very freely on the trees, also the ubiquitous Dendrobium crumenatum, with pseudo bulbs four feet in length, the flowers much larger than usual. Cymbidium aloifolium was everywhere plentiful, clustering in large masses on the boles of large trees in the clearings. At an elevation of about 1000 feet we came to a village and fruit grove, and here we stayed to rest awhile as the sun was now very hot overhead, and a drink of cocoa-nut milk proved very grateful. On the trees here I obtained a greenish yellow flowered dendrobium, which proved to be a new species very similar to the D. d'Albertisii of New Guinea. At about 1500 feet we reached the skirt of the old forest, and had to dismount and do the rest of the ascent on foot. We had brought ropes with us, and removing the saddles and other gear we tethered the horses and buffalo to bushes in a little natural meadow where they could make a good meal off the fresh mountain grass. This was a great treat to them, as the coarse herbage of the plains was at this season very dry, and the horses in Meimbong were being fed on cocoa-nut leaves owing to the dearth of other fodder. We descended a gully, and crossing a little stream commenced the ascent on foot, leaving a Sulu lad in charge of our goods and animals. We had at first a rough climb over tree roots and loose stones. In one place the ascent was nearly vertical, and the boulders being easily detached from the dry soil, it was dangerous for our followers below. An areca palm bearing large clusters of small scarlet fruit below a spreading crown of dark green leaves was very handsome, and both ferns and selaginellas were luxuriant in the shade. I collected specimens of all I saw for scientific purposes. Pigeons and paroquets and other birds were seen here on the trees overhead, but although we shot at several and saw them fall, the branches overhead were so dense that they lodged there, and we could not induce any of our followers to climb for them on account of the deadly tree snakes, which are said to infest the place. Our guides did not like the ascent, and tried to make us believe that the point of the ridge was the top of the mountain, but we insisted in pushing further up the ridge and at length were rewarded by reaching the summit. The air was very fresh and cool here, and by climbing a low-branched tree we obtained splendid views of the surrounding plains and hill-tops and of the sea. We rested here for some time. A strong-growing species of pentaphragma, bearing pure white flowers in the axils of its oblong fleshy leaves grew here plentifully, and an aucuba-like shrub bore clusters of red berries as large as peas. Tree ferns also grew up to the top, and their stems were draped with long green moss, which looked very fresh and pretty. Two or three species of anæctochilus also grew here, their rich velvety leaves being illuminated with gold and silvery veins. From one spot in the descent we could see the coast and the outlying islets very plainly, also more newly-formed coral islets inlaid with lagoons. We saw abundant evidence of wild pigs and deer up this mountain, but the wild cattle which formerly existed plentifully are now quite extinct. During our conversation about this mountain last night the Sultan told us some wonderful stories of birds' nest caves, and of a cavity or hole at the top lined with mother of pearl (tepoy) large enough for several men to bathe in at the same time, also of the wild men who lived in the forest, making their habitations in the trees, and of other wonderful things, all of which he discreetly added we should not be able to see without we had supernatural assistance. The gods truly were unpropitious, for we saw none of the mysteries of the mountain to which he had referred. Wild men may formerly have inhabited the trees of the forest here, as the "jakuns" still do in Jahore, and what he told us may have been a well-worn old tradition handed down for many generations. It is not improbable that his reference to the crater at the top was the remains of an old tradition of the volcanoes which once, without a doubt, did exist here in the island. We descended to the village, leaving the men to bring on the horses and gear, and here "Gelah" procured us some hot water, and we sat down under the shady trees and enjoyed our lunch of chocolate and biscuit. "Gelah" told us he did not care for chocolate and asked for some brandy. I gave him half a tumblerful, which he drank and became very communicative. He lighted one of the cigars he had appropriated last night--indeed he had been smoking them all the morning--and then he told us that many of the Sulus were bad men and great thieves, adding that he was a good man himself, and that was why the Sultan liked him. He then helped himself to more brandy, tossing it off undiluted as before. He then launched out into a long story of a pirate fleet having left Tawi-Tawi about a year before, and remarked that they had but just returned with a good deal of plunder. Wallace mentions [5] that these Sulu pirates sometimes visit the Aru islands near New Guinea and Ceram on their predatory expeditions. They only attack small trading prahus now, but in former times even large sailing vessels were not safe from their attacks. We now mounted our ponies and retraced our steps to the Istana, which we reached at dusk pretty well tired. We rested some time and gave the Sultan an account of our ascent. He pressed us to remain all night, but this we did not care to do, and thanking him for his hospitality and assistance, we mounted our ponies once more and rode back to Meimbong in the moonlight. Arriving at the Orang Kayu's house we found the boat there to meet us and take us on board, but it was then low water in the river, and we had to wait some hours, so we went into the headman's house, and lying down, slept until near midnight, when our men awoke us and rowed us up the river and across to the ship. It is a common opinion, and in the main I believe a correct one, that the Sulus are great thieves. I never lost anything among them, and a small bag I left accidentally at the headman's house containing two or three dollars, a knife, ammunition, and other trifles, was handed on board in the morning untouched. From what I saw of Sulu and the inhabitants it appeared to me very evident that civilisation had formerly been much higher than it is at present. This is especially to be seen in their old buildings and manufactures. Thus the oldest of the dwellings had beautifully carved woodwork over the windows and doors, and had been erected of wood and with much more careful taste and labour than is now devoted to the same kind of work. Nowhere else in the East did I see more evidence of tasteful purpose in design than here in Sulu. Here is a little sketch I made of a carved wood heading to the door of the Sultan's Istana. Motive two conventional alligators holding a disc on which is written a Malay inscription in Arabic characters, the whole surrounded by open work. Some old knives were also most beautifully decorated, the blades being of splendid finish, and the hilts and sheaths of hard wood, carved very artistically. In Brunei city I had noted a few lattice windows in the older pile dwellings rather pretty in design, but not at all equal to the free and vigorous carving of the Sulus. The older manufactures again, such as krisses, barongs, spear-heads, betel-boxes, indeed metal work generally, and particularly the artistic element, were formerly much finer than is now the case. The Sulus themselves, a well-built and originally a brave race, have deteriorated, and after resisting the incursion of their old enemies, the Spaniards, for generations, indeed centuries, are now utterly dispirited. Some of their chiefs indeed have intrigued with their old foes, and the result is that their country, and probably the last of her Sultans, is virtually under Spanish rule. The Sultan himself is a bright and intelligent man, but given to opium smoking, and some of his headmen and Datus composing the "ruma bichara," a council chamber by which the Sulu has long been governed, taking advantage of his ease-loving nature have beguiled him with flattery, and advised him to sign one treaty after another until the entire Sulu Archipelago may now be considered as virtually belonging to the Philippine government. As a race the Sulus are well developed, taller, and paler in colour than the Malays generally. The women are often very pleasing, with luxuriant hair and bright expressive eyes. Some of them, notably the wives and daughters of the chief men, are very pale, white almost in comparison with the women of the island, who are more often exposed to the effects of climate and labour. Several ladies of the court were pale in colour, with regular Italian-like features, and one of the wives of Datu Haroun--a sweet gentle creature--might readily have been mistaken for a European. She was essentially lady-like in voice and manner, and deserved a far better fate than that of nominal wife, but virtually slave of a crafty and cruel traitor to his country. Upon the women here, as throughout Borneo, devolves a large share of the everyday labour, and nearly all the trading in the markets is conducted by them, while their lords and masters stand listlessly by spear in hand, or gather in little groups to talk. Everywhere we saw them at work making mats or baskets, or met them in dug-out canoes and outriggers going to or coming from market, or from the place where the fresh water is daily obtained, below the Orang Kayu's house. The women of the better class spend much of their time in embroidery and in cooking, indeed we were assured that the food set before us at the Istana had been prepared under the Sultana's personal supervision, which I can well believe, and I do not think English ladies could have prepared such a repast as it was in a better way; indeed the snowy bowl of rice would, I think, prove inimitable to most of our lady cooks at home. Riding is fashionable in Sulu, and none but the very poorest walk far. Anything seems acceptable as a steed, and if the aristocratic grey pony with somewhat of Arab fleetness and gentleness is not obtainable, buffaloes, and even the cows, are taken as substitutes. It is really a very pretty sight to see the market people coming to market from the hills, men and women alike, mounted on ponies or cattle with their baskets, bags, and bundles of produce flung across the saddle before and behind. The men, especially, mounted on their high wooden saddles, armed with the national spear, and clad in chain armour tunic, forcibly reminded one of the illustrations of Don Quixote, a resemblance considerably heightened by the gaunt leanness of their steeds. A plurality of wives is general with the Datus, and others who have means to keep up an establishment, and these women are for the most part purchased from their parents, although formerly they were not unfrequently captured during piratical excursions. St. John [6] mentions an instance where a pirate chief from Tawi-Tawi captured a Spanish schooner in 1859, and finding the captain's daughter on board, he made her his principal wife and treated her with every attention; she subsequently bore him a child, the Spanish authorities having failed in their attempts to recover her. As I have before intimated slavery is still common in Sulu, although there is no regular great slave mart such as existed only a few years ago at Sugh, the former capital. It is no uncommon occurrence for parents to sell their daughters, and visitors to Sulu are solicited even now to purchase wives at prices varying from fifty to two hundred dollars. I knew of one instance in which a trading captain presented his native wife, a Sulu girl, to the captain of another steamer, and the officers of Dutch vessels trading here in the Malay Archipelago nearly always keep native wives on board, and as a rule I believe these women are kindly treated. Throughout Malasia woman's position is unfortunately a very low one. If possessed of personal attractions she is directly or indirectly sold to the highest bidder, and while her youthful charms last she may be spared actual toil, while her less attractive sister labours daily in house or field, but eventually a younger, fairer wife supplants her, and during her declining years she is-- "In daily labours of the loom employed, Or doom'd to deck the bed she once enjoyed." All this is, of course, a very unsatisfactory state of things here as in other nations eastward, nor is it likely to be much improved under Spanish rule. And yet we must never forget that it is a time-honoured institution, and is not, to say the least, more objectionable than polyandry as practised among the tribes who live on the banks of the Upper Jumna and Upper Ganges. Polygamy is sanctioned by custom, and "custom is religion in the East." Each Mahomedan is permitted to have four wives. Before we blame a religion so wide spread and powerful, however, we must not forget that it is a religion which practically preserves its millions of followers from other forms of intemperance, and notably from the use of intoxicating liquors, that great bane of many Englishmen everywhere, and especially of many of those who live in the Eastern tropics. The language spoken in Sulu, notwithstanding that it contains many Malay words and others of Arabic origin, is yet practically very distinct, approaching much more nearly that spoken by the inland tribes of Northern Borneo. In physique and bold fearless bearing there is also a striking resemblance between the north Borneans and the Sulus, while both races display the same acuteness, mingled with suspicion, in all matters of trade. So striking is the resemblance in physique, language, and conduct, as to suggest the possibility of their having originally descended from one common stock, and I am inclined to think that the same language was used by them before the advent of the now dominant Malays, who had Arabic blood in their veins, and to whom is doubtless due the introduction of the Arabic character and Islamism, and whose language is now the lingua franca of Malasia. The government of the island, although in a great measure in the hands of the Sultan, can scarcely be called despotic, since the people are represented in the council chamber, or "ruma bichari," by their Datus or headmen, and but few if any important matters were decided by the Sultan personally, without the opinion of the native chiefs. During our visit to the Istana His Highness regretted very much that he had not power to drive out the Spaniards. The cultural capabilities of the island are considerable, and in the hands of the Spaniards they are likely to be still better developed. The principal cultivated crops are rice, maize, coffee, manilla hemp, cocoa (Theobroma Cacao), tobacco, and tapioca. During the rides I took in the island I had good opportunities of seeing the arable land, and I was much impressed with the produce obtainable from the soil at a slight expenditure of labour. The deep soil is loosened by a rude plough, drawn by a single buffalo. This is done in the dry season, and seed sowing and planting commence with the rainy weather. I saw coffee bushes growing apparently wild around the little farm-houses on the cool hill-sides, especially on Bu'at Dahau, which I ascended a few days after our return from Bu'at Timantangis, and every leaf was fresh and green without a trace of the leaf fungus which of late years has proved so hurtful in Ceylon. The cocoa-yielding Theobroma does equally well and fruits freely, forming indeed what may be called the national beverage in Sulu. Excellent tobacco is grown here, and this, if skilfully prepared, would furnish cigars equal to those of Manilla. Cotton would do well, and the highest red land on the mountains, rich as it is with ages of forest débris, might be advantageously planted with coffee or other crops. Rice, tapioca, tobacco, and sugar cane would do best on the plains. An immense quantity of fruit is produced in the island, especially mangoes and bananas. The fragrant durian is also plentiful, together with langsat, and several other kinds. I noticed two distinct varieties of cocoa-nut cultivated here, one bearing small oblong fruits of a bright orange yellow colour, the milk of which was delicious in flavour, and another, the outer husk of which could be eaten in its young state, it being white as ivory, and very sweet and tender. I have already alluded to a breed of ponies as being peculiar to the island. These are larger and in every way better than the Deli breed, imported to Singapore from Sumatra. They are never shod, nor is emasculation ever resorted to. Goats and poultry are very abundant. Of the former, a dark brown race resembling deer in gracefulness and activity, are kept by the hill people. The fowls of Sulu are distinct from those of Borneo, and are believed not to be many degrees removed from their wild prototypes. Of the other natural produce of the island the frutto del mare deserves notice, being especially valuable, worth, indeed, many thousands of dollars yearly. Pearls of all colours in quantity and of excellent quality, are obtained here yearly by the divers, most of whom are of the ubiquitous Badjow or Sea gipsy race. Tons of pearl shell (tepoy) and sea slug or beche de mer (Holothuria), of different kinds, are also exported annually. This last repulsive-looking product is picked off the coral reefs at low water, and after being dried is esteemed a great delicacy by the Chinese, to whom it is sold. The pearl-shell obtained here is of fine quality, each valve being frequently as large as an ordinary dinner-plate, and an inch in thickness. At least a dozen kinds of salt-water fish are obtainable, and I frequently saw the fishing-boats off the town at night, each with a light gleaming over the water, and I noticed that they all seemed to have secured a fair supply of fish when they came alongside in the morning. CHAPTER XII. A ROYAL VISIT. Exploring rides--A state visit--Culinary business--Arrival of the Sultan and suite--Procession of boats--Armed attendants--A royal salute--Visit to the ship--Use of dogs aboard--Amusements ashore--Eastern singing--A royal interpreter--Dress of the ladies--Influence of the women--An early rising Sultana--Marine amusements--Departure--Journey to Bu'ut Dahau--Hospitality of the mountaineers--Ascent--Fine views from the top--Flowers and insects--A Hadji's tradition--Siassi Island--A Horned Steed--Sandakan--Pulo Bahalatolois. When we started from Labuan it was expected that the whole voyage to and from Sulu would be made in fifteen days. On our arrival here, however, the expected cargo was not ready, and it was found that another fortnight must elapse ere we could leave. This extra time I spent in riding over the island in every direction, and I was rewarded by specimens of plants and birds which had never reached Europe before. One night on my return to the ship for dinner, I was delighted to hear that the Sultan had arranged to pay a State visit to Meimbong, and that he had signified his intention of coming on board, this being indeed one of the principal reasons of his visit. It had been arranged that he and his suite would remain in the harbour for one night, sleeping in "Peah's" house, the largest and most comfortable in the place. Mr. Cowie at once resolved to decorate the ship, and also to fire a salute from the guns on board, as he had an Armstrong amidships and two iron muzzle-loaders forward. The visit was to be made in two days' time, and so there was plenty of time for preparations, and the little wharf assumed an appearance of bustle and activity I had never seen there before. A fine young bullock was slaughtered by "Peah," and his slave girls were as busy as bees in the little kitchen on the end of the pile jetty, preparing food and sweetmeats for the visitors. Edible swallows' nests, and the finest and fattest of sea-slugs were placed in bowls of water to soak, while rice was cleaned in large quantities, and freshly-caught fish were brought in alive and retained in tubs of sea-water until required. Enormous brass betel-boxes were cleaned and replenished with fresh lime and nuts, and the mountaineers brought down the largest and freshest of pepper or sirri leaves and fruits on the morning of the visit. Inside the private apartments finely-worked mats and embroidered cushions were placed for the royal guests. Business seemed entirely suspended for the time, and both Chinese and Sulus were evidently looking forward to a general holiday. On board, the sailors had made the little Far East nice and tidy, the bunting of all colours and signal halyards were got into order, and the mate sacrificed his old flannel shirts to make bags for the powder with which the salute was to be fired. About eight o'clock on the appointed day a shot was fired from the Armstrong, and we were all surprised at the long rolling echo and reverberation it made among the hills. About ten the Sultan and Sultana with their entire suite and numbers of Sulus who formed a sort of irregular guard of honour, arrived at Meimbong a gay cavalcade, the brightly-embroidered jackets of the nobles, and the crimson, blue, and yellow petticoats of the ladies being very effective in the bright sunshine, the whole effect being again heightened by the flashing of numerous spears. Filing through the narrow gate in the stockade, they waited for some minutes ere the boats were quite ready, and then embarked, a movement which occupied nearly half an hour. Knowing that the boats would block up the river when they eventually started, we returned to the ship, from which an excellent view of the procession of boats was obtained as they crossed the harbour to reach the houses on the wharf. The sight was extremely bright and pretty as the boats, with their gaily attired occupants, emerged from the mouth of the river and came across the bay. The Sultan's boat was first, and the fat old Commander-in-Chief of the forces sat on the prow, paddle in hand, to steer clear of all impediments. Next came the Sultana and her chief ladies in a larger boat, two or three richly embroidered umbrellas being held aloft, while her infant son and nurse came along in a third boat with numerous attendants, and overshadowed by a splendid yellow silk three storied umbrella, decorated with streamers to steady it, each of these last being in the hands of a dusky slave. The following boats, of which there were about a dozen, carried the attendant nobles, headmen, minor ladies of the harem, and the necessary attendants or slaves. Besides these there was, of course, quite a crowd of natives in outrigged boats and canoes of all sizes. His Highness landed on the "jimbatan," and stood to watch the landing of the Sultana and her suite. He was surrounded by his people, all being, as is usual here always, armed. One man carried a heavy Lanun sword, while two others carried loaded revolvers in a very awkward manner. His son, Datu Mahomed, came on board as soon as he landed, and asked Mr. Cowie not to fire the salute until the ladies had retired indoors. He had several young followers with him all smartly dressed in embroidered jackets and breeches, with gaudy kerchiefs wound around their heads. He stayed on board while the salute was being fired, and although it shook the little vessel a good deal, and did some damage to the skylights and crockery, he did not seem to mind it much. The guns were fired with great regularity, and the reverberation among the hills was grand. After the firing was concluded His Highness came on board and went over the whole ship. He was particularly interested in the little Armstrong breech-loading gun, and examined its mechanism very closely, he also ventured down into the engine-room, and was evidently astonished at the machinery therein. After looking round the vessel he sat under the awning on the saloon-deck smoking and talking until we had finished dinner, and was very much interested in our European style of eating. He has repeatedly been invited on board English gun-boats which call in here occasionally, but this was the first time he had ever ventured to set his foot on board a foreign vessel. Mr. Cowie was very anxious that all should pass off well, as it was very evident that His Highness was very nervous, and foreseeing this possibility, the vessel had been laid alongside the "jimbatan," or wharf, so that he could step on board and leave without any trouble. He left just at sundown, appearing very pleased with his visit, and he expressed his intention of again coming on board in the morning, bringing the Sultana with him. The houses on the wharf were crowded towards night with Sulus from all the neighbouring islets, and when the lamps were alight presented a very animated sight to a stranger. The common Sulus are rather intrusive, and the native boatswain would have had much trouble to have kept the ship clear of them had it not been for the dogs on board, four splendid creatures. They were a retriever, two small terriers, and a formidable bull-dog, which Mr. Cowie told me was the best safeguard from the pilfering of natives he had ever invested in during some years of Eastern cruising and coast trade. This hint may be of some service to future explorers--a good bull-dog or a terrier or two would, indeed, be the best of guards to have at one's camping ground, since it is next to impossible for anyone to approach without their giving due loud-voiced warning. We went ashore after dinner and found "Peah's" house filled to overflowing with guests. Room, however, was made for us, and chocolate, biscuits, cigarettes, and gin offered in turn. Incessant talking, varied by gong music, and now and then a melancholy song by one of the court ladies, together with food and drink to all comers, seemed to be the programme. The singing, to our ears, sounded like a dirge--the pentatonic scale being used by these people as by the Malays and Chinese. One young girl after singing part of a ballad relating how a beautiful princess was stolen by pirates and eventually became a Sultan's bride, "her skin being pale as the jasmine flower, her breath sweet as the areca bloom," eventually went off in a fainting fit, and had to be carried out into the fresh air. Her place and legend was immediately taken up by another girl, and I was told that the thread of it was so long that several days would be occupied by anyone who should attempt to sing the whole story. Our interpreter, for the nonce, was Datu Mahomed, who is very fond of Europeans. He introduced us to several people of note in the island, and gave us much information which otherwise we could not have obtained. Men and women here met pretty much on a common ground, and were apparently untrammelled by that strict and exclusive etiquette so characteristic of the Bornean Malays. Some of the ladies were very comely and richly dressed, notably the court ladies and the pretty wife of Datu Haroun, the former Sulu governor of Sandakan. This lady spoke Malay well, an accomplishment which few of the Sulu women possess, and we spent a very pleasant quarter of an hour in her company. The dress of the Sulu women consists of a pair of loose trowsers of white cloth generally, but for holiday times often red, yellow, magenta, or blue silk, and a loose jacket ("baju") also of silk, often braided down the front, and ornamented with large gold or silver buttons. Over these a long sarong, or petticoat, is worn as a sash, cloak, skirt, or petticoat and belt combined, according to the fancy of its wearer at the time, for to the Sulus and Malays the sarong supplies the place of the dress and bonnet of civilised society here at home. Most of the "sarongs" worn by the ladies I saw to-day were of silk, very richly embroidered with flowers, butterflies, or complicated designs of a foliated pattern, the same on both sides the material, and really producing a beautiful effect. The colours were mainly gaudy and barbaric in splendour, but here and there real taste was evident. One lady wore a buff sarong of very rich texture, with a neatly-worked border in black, while another, in a green and black check or tartan, was especially noticeable. Rings of gold and silver, often richly set with stones and pearls, are worn on the left hand as a rule, but ladies of the highest class have both hands studded with jewelry. Ear ornaments are not so much affected as by the Malays, and although most of the girls have apertures slit in their pretty little ears, these are rarely used for earrings, being, indeed, as often made receptacles for cigarettes as anything else. Ornate cloth or silk kerchiefs and head-dresses of black, yellow, or red, set off their raven tresses to advantage on high days and holidays, and among an assemblage of fully two hundred women, such as we saw here to-day, not two were dressed alike. Yellow is the colour which predominates most, and the amount of chrome which would render a European lady most conspicuous and vulgar, seems only to enhance the dusky charms, bright eyes, and luxuriant hair of these Sulu belles. Only the Sultana and one or two others wore stockings, and slippers were only used by the elite, and to these they seemed a superfluity, since they mostly carried them in their hands. The abundance of hair possessed by these women is a noticeable feature, and they do not dress it so neatly as the Malays, but merely comb it out straight, after which it is loosely knotted up so as to form a mass on the top or one side of the head. From the opportunities I had of seeing the Sulu women generally, I should say that they are far superior to the men, and evidently have, as has been before noticed, great influence with their husbands. A present to the Sultana and one or two of the Datu's wives, would be amply sufficient to ensure the safety and popularity of a traveller here, a secret well known to the rich Chinese traders, who make visits hither occasionally during the year. Wishing to pay our respects to the Sultan ere leaving for the night, we sought His Highness in vain for some time, but at last found him with one of our Chinese friends, smoking opium in a gloomy little compartment, from the close, penetrating odour of which we were glad to escape as quickly as possible. We went on board, but did not sleep much, owing to the talking and gong-beating, which continued almost all night. We awoke at sunrise to find nearly every one astir on the wharf, the Sultana and her suite having thus early seated themselves outside the houses to take the air. Much amusement was caused by a large retriever dog, "Neptune," which Mr. Cowie had on board, and which delighted to plunge after any trifle flung into the water. In about half-an-hour the boats were brought, and Her Highness and about fifty ladies went off to a sandy shoal in the bay to bathe. We could see them quite plainly from the ship flopping over the sides of the boats into the sea, and floundering about like fat seals. They evidently enjoyed themselves; and after a quarter-of-an-hour's racing and splashing, they returned to the boats, and then proceeded about a mile out to sea, where some Badjows amused them by diving for pearl-shells and coral. Returning to the wharf, the Sultan and Sultana came on board; and after Her Highness, who was only attended by two of her ladies, had looked over the ship, he bade us adieu. The boats were then brought alongside the wharf; the ladies embarked first, then the Sultan and his suite. Splash went the polished paddles; a wave of the hand from His Highness, a dip of the flag at the mast-head of the little steamer, and the first royal visit paid by a Sultan of Sulu on board a steam-ship was over. Both before and after this visit we saw a good deal of the Sulus; not only the traders, but the nobles and officers themselves often came on board on business, or to take a cup of tea and have a chat. One or two of them had a weakness for gin "cocktails," but their general beverage was tea or lemonade. All were armed with straight knives; but most had the short heavy Sulu knife or sword stuck in a silk sash or waist-cloth. Much of the conversation was on the subject of market prices for pearl shell, trepang, and birds' nests, varied by inquiries as to the object and operations of the new Borneo Company, to whom their Sultan had quite recently ceded Sandakan, and the east and north part of Borneo which belonged to him. During all the time we had lain in harbour here, the weather had been dry, not a drop of rain having fallen for nearly four months. The plains were very dry and parched, and jungle fires were not unfrequent as the dry grass caught fire and sprang into a blaze very quickly. It is owing to these fires in jungle and forest that teak of large size is now so rare; since at one time the island must have been one immense forest of this valuable wood. After the ascent of Bu'at Timantangis I had often longed to explore Bu'at Dahau, the next highest of the two peaks of Sulu, both of which are visible for a long way out at sea. We could see the mountain quite clearly at sunrise every morning, from our anchorage at Meimbong; and one fine morning I set off, accompanied by Mr. Anson Cowie, who proved himself to be a most intelligent and genial companion. As guide, I had been so fortunate as to obtain the services of one of the Sultan's officers who lived at a village half way up the mountain side, and at whose house we were to leave our ponies and undertake the climbing on foot. We bore to the right on leaving Meimbong, and had a pleasant ride of seven or eight miles across the fragrant mint and grass-covered plains; but by reason of my dismounting here and there to gather a curious orchid or fern, or perchance to get a shot at a beautiful bird, it was nearly noon ere we drew rein at the door of our guide's house. Our way at first had lain through the undulating plain; then the Meimbong river was crossed under some fine-spreading trees, on which white, blue, and green pigeons fluttered in plenty. Then we rode up a narrow path fringed with tall overhanging jungle on either side, leaving only bare space for our ponies to pass in Indian file. Then came a rounded hill-side, and numerous cultivated patches--little farms with palm-thatched houses sheltered in groves of durian, cocoa-nut, mango, and other fruit trees. Here coffee and cocoa-trees were noticed in vigorous health and fruitfulness; and along the edges of the arable patches a very pretty species of curcuma was blooming freely among the grass and verdure. The leaves had a purple stain along the mid-rib. The flowers were white, with a blotch of lemon-yellow on the lip, the inflorescence being white, suffused with bright amethyst, purple at its apex. We noticed tame paroquets hanging outside several of the dwellings we passed on our way. At one point near the foot of the mountain, we came upon a party of thirty or forty men accompanied by dogs, and armed with long spears; they were going to hunt some wild pigs which had done damage to a plantation of sweet potatoes and yams the night previous. Our way now lay up the clearings on the mountain side. I dismounted and led my pony; and on my shooting at a pigeon, it became restive, and broke away. It was luckily met and caught by a Sulu man who had followed us, in the hope of earning a little tobacco. Arriving at last at the mountain village, we entered our guide's house, after having tethered our horses and given them some cut grass on which to feed. The sun was now very hot, and we were glad to rest; we were hungry, too, and thoroughly enjoyed some fish and rice, which, together with some chocolate, was soon set before us by these hospitable people. Pigeons, paroquets, and large hornbills, were here plentiful, and came to feed on some large trees which were in fruit near the village. After our luncheon I started with our guides to ascend the mountain, leaving Mr. Cowie, who had a lame foot, to shoot around the village until my return. We reached the summit in about an hour, but were much disappointed, as the vegetation was not nearly so luxuriant as that on Timantangis. Orchids were scarce, and ferns wanting in variety and beauty, although several were new to science. Near the summit I heard a little song-bird singing very sweetly; and although I did not see it, I am convinced it was the same species I had previously heard with so much pleasure on "Kina Balu," at a much higher altitude. This mountain is well wooded at the top, but not so densely as is Timantangis; nor is the undergrowth so rich in variety. The views from the top are simply lovely--a panorama of fertile farm-dotted hills and golden plains, stretching away to the blue sea, where the main island is fringed by coral islets. A native pointed out the harbour to us, and the peak of Pulo Siassi was plainly visible. In the descent I made a detour from the little spring or watering-place near the village, and passing through clumps of coffee-bushes, with here and there ripe fruit in plenty, we came beneath a grove of large durian trees which were in bloom, the ground beneath being covered with their fallen blossoms. Here I shot several pigeons and paroquets; and in returning to the village we repeatedly saw a large amorphophallus bearing foetid flowers as large as a sugar basin, and of a dark maroon colour. On cutting open a flower I found its basin half full of ants of two kinds and numerous small black coleoptera were running about in the spathe. I may say that I have rarely ever examined tubular flowers here in the tropics without finding insects of some kind engaged within, and in the case of aroids particularly, their spathes are generally full of such tiny guests, whether "unbidden" or not I cannot say, but it is probable certain kinds are attracted by foetid odours as others are by sweet ones, while in many cases nectar or pollen supply the little visitors with food. The bright scarlet flowers of the erythrina trees in Labuan sheltered myriads of tiny flies and beetles which, in their turn, afforded food to large flocks of starlings and other birds which were always attracted to these trees when they were in bloom. Quite accidentally I came across the evidence of a celebrated traveller in South America, Waterton, who at p. 98 of his Wanderings, says "almost every flower of the tropical climates contains insects of one kind or other," thus bearing out what I have observed to be universally the case in the eastern jungles and gardens. On returning to the house I found Mr. Cowie had shot a beautiful paroquet and two pigeons I had never seen before, and he had directed his men to bring all the ferns and plants he had met with on his way around the jungle patches near the houses. Our birds and flowers securely packed, we walked around the village and paid a visit to a hospitable old hadji who lived here, apparently prosperous and happy. He told us that many of the women had been much frightened on hearing that a white man was coming to their village, adding that he had had great difficulty in assuring them that we were not Spaniards. He had erected a neat little musjid, and his son, a tall well-favoured youth, who had accompanied his sire to Mecca, had just been married to a very comely Sulu girl. This hadji had a tradition that the aboriginals of the island had been driven out by the Chinese emigrants many years ago, even before the Arab Sultans and Datus became the dominant party here. He may be right, since it is a well known fact that the Chinese had extensive settlements in the northern portion of Borneo, as in part attested by the native names of the places in which their settlements were made, as Kina Balu (Chinese widow mountain), Kina Batangan (Chinese river), Kina Tanah, Kina Taki, and others. There is one tribe of Dusun who wear pigtails, and although they use the Dusun vernacular, yet they converse in very fair Chinese after a little practice, having never quite lost the tongue of their Chinese ancestors, of whom these are the lineal descendants by Bornean women. This peculiar tribe inhabit the Bundu country, but St. John mentions Muruts from the Limbang, who spoke Hokien Chinese on their being confronted with Chinese in Brunei, the capital, although they failed to express themselves in the Malay language of the coast! Just as the sun was sinking behind the trees we mounted our ponies and started for Meimbong. The air was now cool and fresh, and a pleasant ride of two hours brought us to Meimbong. This was my last ride in the island. All the cargo had been stowed below, the hatches closed, and early in the morning we were to leave. We were awoke at daybreak by the steam-whistle, and just as the sun tinted the peaks of Timantangis and Dahau we steamed slowly out of the harbour for the Island of Siassi, one of the Tapal group, where more cargo awaited us. We arrived at Siassi about noon, but the cargo could not be put on board until the next morning. We stayed at Siassi all the following day, and I took the opportunity of riding inland, and to the peak, which I found capped with old forest; but owing to the extreme drought, everything here was parched and dry, and but few plants of interest were seen. As most of this island is entirely denuded of old forest, of course birds are scarce; indeed, I saw enough of it to convince me that it was a bad collecting ground generally. The only steed I could obtain was a large black bull, which I hired for a bundle of tobacco. He was all right when I had fairly mounted, but whenever I got off to shoot at a bird, or gather plants, he became exceedingly restive, and the only way to mount him again was to put the rope (by which I steered him, and which was fastened to a twisted ring of rattan cane in his nose) round the trunk or branch of a tree, and then to pull his nose up to it by sheer force, holding it firmly with one hand while I sprang on his back. The few country people I met appeared rather surprised, but I expect the bull was well known, and so that served as a passport to me. Near the houses on the shore a bushy euphorbia, with candelabra-like branches, and a clump of yuccas were seen, both doubtless introductions. I returned about three o'clock. After dinner I and Captain Cowie visited one or two of the traders' houses, which resemble those of Sulu in internal arrangement, large beds or platforms occupying the principal apartment, covered with fine mats and pillows, the valuables in boxes being piled up behind. In the morning we bore away for Sandakan, which we reached ere daybreak the next day. The steam-ship America was in the bay, having Baron de Overbeck on board. We stayed here one day for cargo of trepang, rattan, pearl-shell, and birds'-nests. These edible swallows'-nests are highly valued by the rich Chinese, and it is from a cave on the face of the sandstone rock on Pulo Bahalatolois, at the mouth of this bay, that the finest white nests are obtained. These rocks rise nearly perpendicularly from the sea, and to reach the entrance to the cave a man has to descend a distance of a hundred or more feet with the aid of a rattan rope tied to a tree on the slope above. It is dangerous work, as the least slip, and the man would be dashed to pieces on the rock-strewn shore below. The nests thus obtained fetch as much as eighteen dollars per catty, a weight equalling 1-1/3 lb. English. The finest birds'-nests are clean and white, as if made of isinglass; the worst resemble dirty glue, to which feathers and other impurities are attached, and between these extremes there are all sorts of intermediate qualities. These nests are obtained in rocky caves throughout Borneo, Java, and Sumatra, but nowhere are they obtainable finer in quality than here, at Sandakan Head. Large quantities of small or seed pearls are obtained here, also Bornean camphor, the produce of Dryobalanops camphora, a large tree often one hundred to a hundred and fifty feet in height. As a product, it is quite distinct from the common camphor of commerce, which is obtained from Laurus camphora by the Chinese of Hong Kong, who send nearly all of it to our markets, while they, in their turn, highly esteem the Bornean produce, and pay high prices for it. It is obtained in the form of tears and crystallised lumps from the trunk of the tree, and in general appearance is so like the finer kinds of "dammar" gum, that this latter is often used by the collectors as an adulterant. The Chinese traders, however, are rarely imposed upon. The camphor, in its pure state, resembles solidified spirit, and being extremely volatile, it burns with a clear light flame. To detect adulteration, the Chinese are said to spread a little on a white cloth and set it on fire; the pure camphor burns cleanly, and does not soil the cloth, whereas the dammar, if such is mixed with it, melts and sets the cloth on fire. The people from the Teutong river, and the Kayans on the Baram, collect large quantities of camphor and caoutchouc, and prahus with a cargo of these products, worth from one to two thousand dollars, visit Labuan, Sarawak, and other ports during the season. On our leaving Sandakan, on our return voyage to Labuan, we obtained a capital view of Pulo Bahalatolois, and on our rounding the point, the rattan rope dangling down the rocks to the dark entrance to the swallows' cave was plainly visible. This island has a very commanding position, and a battery here would sweep the entrance to this fine bay. We were four days in reaching Labuan, there being a thick fog along the north-west coast, and we were aground twice, although fortunately we got off again without injury. CHAPTER XIII. KINA BALU, viâ TAMPASSUK. Preparations--"Salaamat jelan," or safe voyage--Contrary winds--A total wreck--A sea bath--Making the best of it--Native visitors from the Bornean shore--Drying stores--Pigeon shooting--Foraging--Football--Tent life--A new boat--A marine visitor--Pulo Tiga--A fish dinner--Shore plants--Big fish--The Tampassuk--"The Fatted Calf"--Start for Kina Balu--Bare hills--Land culture--Bad roads--Ghinambaur village--Textile fibres--A chance shot--Thrifty natives--Buffalo riding--A friendly chief--Sineroup--Native wealth--Charms--Crossing swollen river--New Orchids--Kambatuan--Rokos--Butterflies--Koung Green--Aboriginals from the interior--Pretty weeds--Lemoung's death--Native ornaments--Native cloth--Bee keeping--How to manage "guides"--"Kurow"--Start for "Kina Balu"--Sleeping rock--Dusun cookery!--New plants--More of the "guide" nuisance. It was now the end of July, and I had been waiting four or five days, expecting the arrival of the steam-ship Far East, in which I had hoped to have again taken a passage, with my friend, Captain W. C. Cowie; but as his vessel was now overdue, and my own time was limited, I resolved to leave in a native boat at all hazards. I soon chartered a prahu, large enough to carry twenty men, and our stores; and on July 31st I was ready to start. I had given my Chinese "boy," Kimjeck, and the men orders to have all in readiness; but when I reached the little jetty, at two P.M., I found only half the men there, the remainder being as busy as bees on shore, running in and out of the Chinese shops, buying betel-nut, salt, dried fish, onions, and other private stores for the voyage. As soon as they saw me, however, they came running down, and we all went on board. Altogether our craft was heavily laden; but as these native boats are generally carefully built, we saw nothing to fear. At 3.30 we bade our friends, who had kindly come down to see us start, "good-bye;" and, amid the cries of "Salaamat jelan!" from the men's friends on shore, we hove anchor, and sheered off with a tolerably good wind. We soon got our large mat-sail hauled up, and with the Union Jack astern (we carried the "mails" for Tampassuk by the way), glided out of the harbour, and, rounding the old flagstaff-point, steered nearly due north. We did this, intending to stand out, and make "Pulo Tiga," an island lying about forty miles northward of Labuan, by the morning. In this, however, we were doomed to disappointment; for after an hour or two of indifferent sailing, a bit of a squall arose, and the wind having changed, we hove in shore, towards Lumbedan, intending to anchor under the shelter of a little islet of the same name for the night, and start away in the early morning. This was now the only judicious course left us, since we were close in-shore, on a dangerous coast, and the squall of wind and rain was coming down on us like a hurricane. Our men pulled in around the island, and were approaching the shore, to enable us to land, when the boat rose a little on the surf, and the next moment her bows came down on a rock, and this knocked a large hole in her bottom. We subsequently found out that all her lower timbers were rotten. Happily we were not far from the land, and could make ashore, or the consequences might have been serious. As it was we suffered enough, being drenched with rain and surf; and as the boat rolled about, and filled rapidly, most of our things got drenched likewise. As is usual with Malays on such occasions, there was a great deal of excitement, and everybody shouted orders or instructions to his neighbour. However, Smith, an excellent fellow Mr. Boosie had allowed to accompany me, and one or two natives, handed out our clothes and personal effects, which others carried ashore, after which we got out the bags of rice, and other stores all safely, and having emptied the craft of all her loose gear, we hauled her up on the smooth sandy beach, and then, as it was getting dusk, set about preparing ourselves a habitation for the night. Some of the men were sent to cut firewood, others to cut timbers for our hut; others went to search for water, while my "boy," hastily securing a few dry sticks, lighted a fire, and began preparing our evening meal. We had with us plenty of the common "kajang" mats, which may be purchased in Labuan for a few pence each, and serve admirably for roofing boats, or the little jungle-houses, for which a Malay will cut and fix timbers in a few minutes. We had also a good oil-cloth, twelve feet square; and in less than an hour after our shipwreck we had a roomy tent erected in which to eat and sleep. We soon got on some dry clothes, and then had our bedding placed at one end, with our baggage piled up behind, and at the other end our rice and dried fish, goods for barter with the natives, and other stores, were arranged. The guns, rifle, and the tower-muskets, carried by the men, together with our revolvers, &c., were cleaned, and oiled, and suspended overhead; and the lamp being lighted, and hung in the centre, we began to look quite cheerful. We had our dinner about seven o'clock, and then a smoke and a chat over our misadventure. Several men came over from the opposite coast of Lumbedan, where there are a few native houses, to look at us; and I asked them to bring over a boat in the morning, which they very civilly promised to do. About nine o'clock we sought our blankets, and turned in for the night, and slept well, notwithstanding our recent mishap. August 1st.--We were all astir by daybreak this morning; and, after having had our customary cup of coffee and dry toast, we set our followers to work to spread out the wet rice on mats in the sun, and to rearrange all our stores. Some of the men were sent to cut down "nebong" palms, the young tops of which form a delicious vegetable when boiled, and others were employed in cleaning our arms, cutting fire-wood, and other necessary work. While this was going on, I took my gun, and went out on a stroll around our little island. The vegetation I found was rather dense, and the whole surface rocky. I noticed several species of palms, and an epiphytal fern or two, and plants of the white-flowered Dendrobium crumenatum hung here and there on the trees. I shot two of the beautiful white island pigeon (Carpophaga bicolor), called "Pragam pulo" by the natives, and a larger species, of an ash colour (C. ænea), the wings and neck being shot with purple and bronze tints. This is a very large and handsome bird, common in Borneo, and when cooked, is very good eating. On my return to the tent I found the man from the coast had brought over his boat, as promised, and I at once sent it off, with eleven of my men, with a letter to Mr. A. Boosie, the manager of the coal mines in Labuan, asking him to lend me one of his boats, in which to continue my journey. It is a lovely day to-day, and our rice and clothes are getting dry again. "Kimjeck," after he had done his work this morning, started off on a collecting excursion, and has just returned, with a couple of broad-tailed, dusky-coloured rock-snakes, one a very fine specimen. Beetles and butterflies, he tells me, are alike unobtainable, and he can find no flowers, so that we can do no collecting on the island. Knowing that it will be night at the earliest ere our own men can possibly return with the boat, I and Smith went over to Lumbedan with some natives, who had come in a boat to look at us, and had a walk in the tall forest, which forms a back-ground to the houses near the shore. Here we found the "nebong" palm attaining to a large size; and some woodcutters promised to cut us a few young tops by the time of our return. This forest, although originally rich in plants, like that of Labuan, has suffered severely during recent years from the now ever recurring jungle-fires of the dry monsoon. We could find nothing of interest. A large-leaved crinum grows in the sand by the shore; and a scarlet-flowered ixora with narrow foliage, was blooming here and there in patches. We shot a long-tailed paroquet, and a blue kingfisher, the only birds we saw, and retraced our steps to the village just before sunset. We were thoroughly tired, and rested here some time, watching the young Kadyans playing at football on the beach. The players stand in a circle, three or four yards in diameter, and the ball is kicked in the air by the player to whom it falls nearest. To do this properly requires great dexterity, as the ball is struck with the sole of the foot; and a party of good players will thus keep a ball in the air for several minutes by each kicking it upwards just as it is about to fall. The ball itself is a light hollow one, of rattan open-work, about the size of an ordinary cricket-ball; and the game closely resembles shuttlecock, as played in China. Having obtained our palm-tops, we purchased some eggs, cucumbers, and fine ripe water-melons from the woodcutters, whom we had passed in the forest in the morning, and then waded across to our quarters on the island, which we could now do, as it was low water. It was becoming dusk, and we were glad to throw ourselves down on our rugs, and rest a little before we ate our frugal repast. During our absence my "boy" has "tidied up" the tent, and it now looks quite cosy and comfortable, being dry and sheltered, although on two sides the sea washes up to within a few feet of us at high water. The soft yellow mats are pleasantly enlivened with our rugs and scarlet blankets, the rifle-barrels glisten above our heads, and the smoke curls gracefully upwards from our cooking-fires on the beach. Just as it was dark we heard our men shouting; and soon after six of them came in with the borrowed prahu, and told us that their companions were following them in the large boat, which Mr. Boosie had kindly lent to us. This was good news; and we ate our dinner in high spirits. In about an hour's time the men came in with the boat, and we hauled her up high and dry on the sandy shore before retiring for the night. With the boat I was cheered by letters from several of my friends in Labuan, all of whom were sorry to hear of our disaster. August 2nd.--A lovely morning. We were up before daybreak, and soon had our boat launched, and all our goods and stores safely stowed away, ready for starting. About seven o'clock we got away, with a good breeze behind us, and then we took our breakfast in a little deck-cabin, which our men had cleverly rigged up for us with a few crooked sticks, tied firmly with rattans, and covered with kajang mats, thus forming a capital shelter from sun and rain. Not feeling very well, I lay down, and fell asleep, but was soon awakened by a consternation among the men, and much shouting. A refractory fish was the cause of all the noise, the steersman having hooked him; but the fish was large, and objected to come on board. After much trouble they hauled in their capture, and a fine fellow it was, fully thirty pounds weight. We were very comfortable in our new craft, which sailed well; and although the wind slackened considerably about noon, we reached Pulo Tiga before sunset, and went ashore to cook our dinner and lay in a fresh stock of firewood and water. Half-a-dozen fires were soon alight, and we took our guns, and went for a walk, but failed to get a shot. We caught sight of some large hornbills; they were, however, too wary to allow us within range. This island is a large one, without any inhabitants, except now and then a few Chinese woodcutters, or native fishermen. Native boats from Sulu or Palawan frequently call for wood and water; and the remains of numerous fires occur among the drift wood along the beach. Wild pigs are very plentiful, and turtle are also found here. From a distance the island is seen to consist of three rounded hills, covered with forest; hence its native name "tiga," or "teega," signifying three in the Malay language. We returned to dinner with hearty appetites, and thoroughly enjoyed a portion of the fish we had captured in the morning. My "boy," who acted as cook, had forgotten to inquire how he should prepare it; and so, to make sure, he had divided our share, boiling one-half, and the other he cleverly roasted over the clean embers of a wood-fire. Hungry as we were, salmon from an Irish stream, cooked fresh over a fire of strawberry-tree wood (Arbutus), could not have tasted more delicious. The wind had now completely died away, and the current setting in strong against us, we anchored in a sheltered bay until the morning. August 3rd.--Awoke about three A.M., and finding a fresh breeze springing up, we aroused our men, and got up sail. In about an hour, however, the wind dropped, and the men had to take to their paddles. We had a nice view of the coast just after sunrise, and we also saw Kina Balu very distinctly. We had changeable winds all day, but managed to reach Gaya Bay about five o'clock; and, as wind and current were now against us, and the men were tired with paddling most of the day, we went ashore on one of the islands to cook, and resolved to remain here all night, or until a favourable breeze sprang up, which we might expect at any time after sunset. Here, as at Pulo Tiga, the beach is sandy, and is fringed with tall casuarina trees, through which the winds sigh as mournfully as they do through the leaves of a pine forest here at home. The broad-leaved pandan (Pandanus dubius) is common here, having a tall, cylindrical trunk, like a cocoa-nut palm, and bearing a branched crown of dark-green leaves. Here also we could obtain plenty of nebong tops; and on waste patches, near the shore, Tacca pinnatifida grew abundantly. This plant is interesting, as affording a kind of starch, much used as food by the South Sea Islanders, but not valued here, where rice is plentiful. Here we found plenty of the large blue pigeon; and although they were very wild, we managed to shoot two or three; and these, with the fresh palm-tops, were a great gain to our culinary department. August 4th.--Again a beautiful sunrise. We pulled from under the lee of the island about six o'clock, and stood out on our course, with a slight breeze. Off the mouth of the Menkabong river we came upon a tiny fleet of native boats, the owners of which were fishing with hook and line. We found out that they were some of Pangeran Rau's people, a chief who holds the country around Qualla Menkabong, and at whose house I had stayed on a former journey into the interior. We were glad to purchase some freshly-caught fish from these people, which we afterwards enjoyed for breakfast. Fried in a little pure oil, and sprinkled with a little oatmeal, they were very nice. Palm-tops boiled formed a delicate vegetable accompaniment to them. We are five days out to-day; and as our bread, which we of course brought with us, is beginning to turn mouldy, my "boy" has dipped each of the remaining little loaves in water, and is busy baking it afresh on a tin plate over the embers. Treated in this way, our old bread is really very nice; indeed, not a bad substitute for hot rolls. One of our men had a line out astern all the morning as usual, but never perceived a nibble until about 1.30 P.M., when there was a sudden commotion, owing to his being nearly jerked out of the boat by a large fish, which had taken his bait. The fish was fairly hooked, but the men had a good deal of trouble to haul him in. He was a splendid capture, fully fifty pounds or more in weight; and it took two men all their time to lift him into the boat, even after a spear had been driven through him. We all admired him very much as he lay on deck; indeed, half a hundred weight of good fresh fish would be welcome anywhere. It was of a variety, called "Linko" by the Malays, and in general appearance reminded one of a fine salmon. A little later in the day another kind, about half the size of the last, was caught, this being called "Tingerie." We reached the mouth of the Abai about 5.30 P.M., and tried hard to make the mouth of the Tampassuk ere dark, in which we failed; and after being tossed about for an hour in vainly endeavouring to get over the bar, our men were glad to pull back to a little island, near Qualla Abai, where we could land to cook, and anchor for the night. It was a lovely, moonlight night, and very quiet in our snug little anchorage. We dined and slept on board, and so escaped the myriads of mosquitoes on the grassy shore. August 5th.--Awoke at sunrise, the air being deliriously fresh and cool, and the sky clear. We were glad to get a very good view of Kina Balu this morning, the long rocky ridge standing out first purple, and then blue, against the sky, while fleecy masses of silvery clouds were ever changing their position on its rugged sides. After a delicious bath in a little fresh-water pool near the shore, and breakfast, we pulled to the Qualla Tampassuk, and found a strong current coming over the bar. Our men pulled over, however, all right; and then came a good five hours' pull up the river before we reached the old quarters of Rajah Muda, now occupied by Mr. Pretyman, who had come to live here a month or two ago, and for whom we had brought on the mails from Labuan. The whole distance from the bar is only about five miles; but the river winds much: and, as it was the wet season, a deal of water coming from the ranges inland had swelled the river beyond its usual limits, and the men had to pull against a heavy stream. The vegetation of the banks is luxuriant; and after pulling a mile or two, native dwellings, and cultivated patches of bananas, cocoa-nut trees, tapioca, maize, and other products appear. We reached Mr. Pretyman's residence about 1.30 P.M., and found him and his people tolerably well in health and spirits. He was surprised and pleased at our unexpected visit, and promptly ordered his men to kill a fine young bullock for ourselves and men. After luncheon we crossed the river and walked to the top of the adjacent coast-hills, from whence a good view of the winding stream and surrounding country is obtainable. These bare grassy hills rise out of the plain, which serves as pasturage for a few buffaloes, and here and there patches are irrigated for rice culture. I made a small collection of the herbaceous plants, annuals, and grasses of the hill we ascended; and on the top we found a round-headed tree, which bore edible fruits, remarkably like walnuts in form and flavour. In descending, we came across plants of a very lovely gardenia, forming bushes, varying from a foot to two feet in height, and bearing large white flowers in the axils of its glossy leaves. A gentle spring-like shower was falling in the last rays of sunlight, and the perfume of this dainty flower was most balmy and delicious, quite unlike the odour of any other plant I ever saw. On my return from the mountain I was careful to secure plants of this species, and they reached London quite safely three months afterwards. As it was now dusk we returned to dinner, and spent a very pleasant evening, talking over home news, and our plans for reaching Kina Balu. August 6th.--We were up at sunrise and set to work in packing our stores into suitable parcels for each man to carry, and we hired two buffaloes so as to be able to carry an extra supply of rice. These details took time, and it was fully noon ere we bade our host farewell and were fairly started on our journey. Our guide and buffalo driver was an intelligent Malay, named Abdul Rathman, who knew the country well. Our first stopping place was to have been Ghinambaur, but as we were late in starting we failed to reach that village before dark, and had to stay at some Dusun huts by the way. At first our way lay through the plain, and here the roads, or rather tracks, through the tall coarse grass were frequently knee deep in mud and water; then we crossed some low hills of red sandstone which were nearly destitute of herbage, owing to the earth being washed off the rock by heavy rains. In places the tracks over these hills were more like drains than anything, and during a heavy shower the water rushes down these water-worn runnels carrying every atom of soil or pulverised rock into the plains below, so that these last consist of a rich alluvial deposit, well adapted for rice and tapioca culture. On the second range of these low hills is a Badjow village, most of the houses being much exposed, without a tree or any kind of shelter. The rain came down in torrents as we passed this place, and some of our Labuan men took shelter from the cold rain and wind which was indeed very piercing. We had to cross some rice fields, in one of which a man was ploughing. The plough was of wood, shaped something like an old English plough in the beam, but with only one handle, and no coulter, wheel, or share-board. This was drawn by a solitary water buffalo, and rooted up the greasy black earth to a depth of five or six inches. At one side of the field we saw a rude harrow formed of bamboo stems lashed together, the side shoots being cut at about six inches from the stem, and these act as prongs to scarify the soil. The whole system of land culture here is very rude, and yet it is far in advance of that practised by natives anywhere else in Borneo, if we except the plain near the banks of the Tawaran river, a few miles further to the south. Passing the last group of Badjow houses we came to the river again and found it running rather high, the water being much discoloured by the earthy matter washed down from the hills during rains. This was the beginning of difficulties, for we had to unload the buffaloes in order to prevent our rice from being wetted, and then we rode them across, while the men carried the packages on their heads, and held on by the saddle-gear or tails of the animals. After piloting across one detachment in this way we returned for the others, and so managed to get all the men over safely, and keep the goods dry. Our road got worse and worse, now through tall coarse grasses which, arching overhead, nearly excluded daylight, then through bits of forest where one's face was in danger from overhanging boughs and creepers, crossing dirty streamlets, and clambering over roots and stones, while in places the path suddenly dropped downwards into a sort of slimy trough or drain, the sides of which were as high as the saddle, and down which one's buffalo slided rather than walked. Of course we were drenched to the skin, and our clothes, which were nice and white at starting, were covered with mud, but there was nothing for it but to keep on, which we did until nightfall, when, finding it impossible to reach the village of Ghinambaur, we "put up" at some field huts, and in the absence of mosquitoes, passed a comfortable night on the floor of one of the huts warmed by a cheerful wood fire. August 7th.--Arose at 5 A.M. and took breakfast. We had simmered a piece of beef in a pot over the fire all night with onions, two or three chilies, a bit of fresh ginger, and just a handful of rice for thickening, and the result was a very palatable soup; boiled beef and biscuit completed our meal. We "squared up" with our landlord by paying a fathom of grey shirting and two black Chinese looking-glasses for our house (which we had all to ourselves), firewood, and a nice young fowl for our dinner. About six o'clock I mounted my steed, and a ride of about two hours brought us to the luxuriant fruit groves which surround Ghinambaur. We found a scattered village close beside the river, each house having its own clump of cocoa-nut and other fruit trees. A mottled-leaved alpinia was common beside our route, and a pretty climbing plant with opposite leaves, each bearing a thunbergia-like white flower, was not unfrequently observed among the grass and low shrubs. A rynchospermum and two species of mussænda were very conspicuous. One of the last-named was a bushy plant two to four feet in height, bearing bright orange-scarlet flowers among its dark glossy foliage, each flower being set off by a pure white bract nearly as large as one's hand. As seen among the grass this plant was very distinct and effective. Its congener is a climbing species not nearly so showy. We rested in a Dusun house for an hour awaiting our stragglers, two of whom were sick. Whilst waiting we spread out our rice to dry, as it had become damp, doubtless owing to the drenching rain of yesterday. Our hostess was a rather attractive Dusun girl, whose husband was away on a hunting excursion. She was very obliging, and seemed quite pleased at our visit. The house was small but very neat and clean, having, moreover, an air of comfort about it not often seen in Dusun dwellings. Among other goods we noticed netting needles of wood, similar in principle to our own, together with excellent fishing nets, weaving instruments, by means of which a strong and durable cloth is made from the macerated fibre of a species of curculigo called "lamba" by the natives. This is afterwards dyed with native grown indigo. Water bottles of bamboo, sieves and fans of different kinds used in cleaning rice, well made baskets of rattan-cane, knives and choppers were also represented, and we especially noted an excellent adze lashed to its shaft by neat rattan work. This implement is used in cutting and trimming planks from the large forest trees, saws being unknown here. I noticed a small basket of true cotton of excellent staple, but it is not much used, "lamba" fibre being obtainable in any quantity from the jungle without any trouble, and its fibre is more readily worked with the help of rude implements. For sewing thread we found our hostess using the fibre of pine-apple leaves (Ananassa sativa), which serves the purpose well. This plant must have been introduced to Borneo many years ago, for it has become thoroughly naturalised, apparently wild, indeed, and not even jungle fires seem able to destroy it. In the Philippine Islands the plant is common, although the dainty manufactures of "pina" fibre formerly made there are now to a great extent discontinued. As examples of skilful handweaving, these "pina" fabrics are even superior to the celebrated hats of Panama, and a dress made in the best manner would cost from a hundred to three hundred guineas. The villagers who accompanied the "Orang Kaya," or headman, on his visit to us a short time after our arrival, were very much interested in our firearms, and begged of me to "shoot something." To please them, I took a chance shot with a Snider rifle belonging to Smith, and brought down a couple of cocoa-nuts which hung on a tree about one hundred yards off. There was a general rush to pick up the fallen nuts, and the blackened place where the ball had struck was examined with much astonishment. We now marshalled our followers and again made a start on our way. We found the roads awfully wet and slippery, and in about half an hour's time it rained in torrents, and the river being now so swollen and turbulent that there was no hope of our being able to cross it to-day we had to pull up at a little village called Buramhangan. The house where we stayed was about one hundred feet above the river, which we could hear rushing and roaring all night. We were soon surrounded by the villagers, most of them young people, and remarkably handsome. The men, especially, had very regular features, dark expressive eyes, and their jet black hair when free from the loose coil in which it is generally worn hung down as low as the waist in lustrous masses which a woman might envy. They appeared to be very thrifty, and had abundance of poultry, swine, and buffaloes. Their manufactures seem to be cloth, baskets, hats, and mats of various kinds, together with fishing nets (made in exactly the same manner as our own), and household utensils of bamboo and cocoanut shells. August 8th.--We awoke just before sunrise. A lovely morning, and the river has fallen much during the night. We tried to hire another buffalo from these people, but as they would not come to terms quickly we had to push on without it, having fully made up our minds to reach the village of Sineroup ere nightfall. Our path lay up the hill for about half a mile, and then we bore down hill to the left. The path was like a drain, and awfully dirty. Smith's buffalo made a bit of a start, and its girths being loose he and the baggage toppled over into the long grass and brushwood beside the path. A little further on I had the same luck, although fortunately for the rice and sleeping-gear which my beast carried it happened in a dry place. The roads were very bad, and also the fords, but we plodded steadily onwards, and by four o'clock P.M. we climbed the hill and were safe at Sineroup. The last ford but one was rather turbulent, and our men being a long way behind we did not wait for them, and they did not get in until night-fall. We stayed here in the headman's house, and found him a jolly fellow with a striking Chinese physiognomy and vivacious manner. He and his family gave us a hearty welcome, spread mats for us on a little raised platform near the window, and gave us a fowl and some rice, so that we had satisfied our hunger before our men arrived. We were now fairly into the country of the "Dusun," or "Piasau Id'an," the meaning of this last literally being "Cocoanut Villagers." Generally they are a clean-skinned and handsome race, far superior to their neighbours the "Muruts," who live farther south, and whose land-culture is but indifferent. So far as I could learn, polygamy is not practised by these aboriginals, and they always appear contented and happy. The dwellings which, near the coast, are generally of "atap," or thatch made from the leaves of the "nipa" palm (Nipa fruticans), are here nearly entirely of bamboo, the roof being thatched with "atap" of cocoanut or the sago palm. Here at Sineroup the headman has a very clean and convenient bamboo-house, and a good deal of wealth in the shape of brass gongs, large ornamental water-jars, cooking pots of brass and earthenware, finely worked mats, &c., while half a dozen sturdy buffaloes are contentedly grazing on the green below the house. Of pigs, poultry, and domesticated bees, he has plenty. I had placed my dirty boots outside the house on a little verandah, and during the night they were either knocked down by visitors or else fell through below the house. When I asked my boy for them in the morning, we found that the pigs had eaten up all but the soles. Luckily I had others, or the loss would have been one of the worst that could have befallen me, since in all long foot journeys, and especially in mountain climbing, good boots are of the first importance. In the tarippe trees (Artocarpus Blumei) here, we noticed very ingenious traps of bamboo, set to catch the "basing," a sort of squirrel or tree-climbing rodent, which plays havoc with this delicious fruit just as it approaches maturity. At this village our guide thus far, Abdul Rathman, is to return, so we have engaged the headman here, "Gantang," to accompany us on our next two days' journey as far as Kiau, which is the last village on the way to the mountain. The scarcity of birds and animals is very marked as we proceed inland. One reason for this may possibly be the absence of virgin forest, nearly all the country bordering on the Tampassuk river having been by some means--possibly former cultivation, aided by jungle fires--stripped of all its primæval forest. August 9th.--We were up at daybreak, and at once ate our breakfast. As usual, we had to await the coming of our guides, and it was fully nine o'clock ere we got fairly started. I notice that many of the natives here wear semi-circular betel-boxes tied around them, and charms are very commonly worn. These last are seemingly of the most varied description, anything seems to do for a charm--shells, teeth, and bones of animals, seeds, stones, and bits of rock, tiny bells, and especially a kind of fossil wood called "kayu lagundi," or, "tree of youth." These are enclosed in the folds of an old kerchief and are tied around the body. Great confidence is felt by the wearers of certain good charms, and they are very popular among the Sulu pirates, who will fight like demons, believing themselves to be invulnerable. All the villagers had come down to see us start, and they followed us down to the river, which is not far from the houses. Rain during the night had caused the current to run strong and high, and none of our men dare venture across. We had a rope for such emergencies, and my interpreter, a lusty Badjow, named Suong, swam across and tied it fast to a tree. It was now easy for our men to cross, and we all got over safely. A little higher up we had to recross again, but the current here was stronger, and all the goods had to be carried across by our Dusun followers, who had accompanied "Gantang," the headman of Sineroup. Fortunately nobody was drowned, but the time occupied in crossing was so long and we were all so tired with our exertions that we were glad to stay at a wayside village instead of going on to Kambatuan as we had desired. We saw a good many attractive plants to-day, but unfortunately the dangerous difficulties of our journey left us but little time for collecting. And yet, although hungry and fatigued to a degree which no one can imagine who has not travelled in a tropical land without roads or bridges, one could but feel enthusiasm as ferns of filmy beauty, orchids of curious structure and vivid colours, graceful glumales, flowering shrubs and palms, met our eager eyes for the first time. One of my first "finds" this morning was a singular bolbophyllum, which grew on the branch of a tree over a stream, and which, as I had from the first suspected, has turned out to be "quite new." It has been named, in gratitude to the Hon. P. Leys, M.B., Colonial Surgeon of Labuan, B. Leysianum, Rchb. f. Its structure is so very extraordinary that nothing but an engraving could give any adequate idea of its characteristics. A creamy flowered dendrobium (D. cerinum, Rchb. f.), grew on trees here and there, bearing its flowers in clusters, and a dwarf cymbidium (C. Spinksianum, Rchb. f.), was also met with in bloom, as also was a white-blossomed ixora, bearing pendulous compound clusters of fragrant blossoms. A curious strong-growing vanilla draped trees in most places, and on some wet mossy rocks beside a rushing torrent, a glossy-leaved phalænopsis (P. luteola) displayed its golden blossoms, each sepal and petal mottled with cinnabar. Coelogynes were everywhere abundant on trees and rocks alike, and on the latter overhanging the streams hung masses of a waxy-leaved æschynanthus, bearing axillary clusters of crimson, black-striped flowers, each standing erect from a gracefully modelled purple chalice. Ferns and mosses hung on the dripping river rocks in glorious profusion. Numerous, indeed, were fair Flora's temptations to lingering dalliance on our way, but we had an ulterior object in this journey which nothing must interfere with. Our mission was to push onward, letting nothing hinder our march--difficulties and inclinations must alike be conquered if we would that our journey be crowned with success! Kambatuan reached, wet and fagged, we were glad of a change of clothing, preceded by a brisk rub with a dry towel, ere we thought of food. Our guides had selected a roomy house, and we soon had a cheerful wood fire ablaze on the hearth, which, as is usual here, was in the centre of the large public apartment occupied by ourselves and our retainers. A fowl and some eggs were soon purchased, and our whilom host was very hospitable, having spread some nicely-worked mats near the fire, and instructed his daughters to make cigarettes for us, which, with the kindness which clings to their sex all the world over, they, seeing that we were strangers, wet and tired, were nothing loth to do. These cigarettes, under the native name of "rokos," were always forthcoming, and are made of tobacco (segope), both grown and manufactured by these inland people. It is cut very neatly, and is made up for sale into ropes or rolls a yard or more in length, these being folded so as to make convenient bundles about nine inches long. Although not given to trickery, it is customary for these people to make the rope "core" of refuse tobacco, or of the leaves of kaladi, or other plants, and over this the really good manufactured tobacco is wound. The result of this is that the useable produce is not above one-fourth of the apparent bulk, and although all are well aware of the subterfuge, and carefully examine every roll of this tobacco before they purchase it, yet the practice continues year after year. For smoking, this dark shaggy tobacco is carefully unwound from the "core" (or "prot," literally stomach), and enfolded in a neat wrapper formed of the young leaf of the nipa palm, or occasionally in the thin husk of the maize cobs, both of which serve the purpose of cigarette paper by burning slowly but freely, producing neither flame nor flavour. There is scarcely a more national trait observable among Borneans than the smoking of the "roko." It is the one luxury common to all. From the Sultan to his meanest subject--male or female--everyone indulges in smoking them; indeed I have repeatedly seen unweaned infants partaking of the solace of the breast and of their tiny "rokos" alternately, both the gift of indulgent Bornean mammas. August 10th.--All night we could hear the rain pouring down in torrents, but it cleared up towards morning, and at sunrise all was beautifully clear and bright. This is the view we obtained of the mountain as seen this morning at 7 a.m., all the lower part being obscured by the trees in the foreground. By 7.30 we had breakfasted, and were on our way. Yesterday had been a most unfortunate day so far as real progress towards the mountain was concerned, and although all our guides were loud in their protests that it would be impossible to cross the streams after the late heavy rain, we were doggedly determined to go on. We crossed the river twice, and now, at 8.30, all further progress seems impossible, since we have to cross again, and this at a place where the river is a boiling torrent nearly five feet deep. The Dusun themselves seem to have no great difficulty in crossing, but our Labuan men are afraid. The great difficulty is to keep one's legs under one in the strong current, and to facilitate this being done the Dusun often take up a heavy stone and carry it on one shoulder. Our men bathed here whilst waiting, and most of them took up a stone and cast it into the water ere they flung themselves in. This they do to propitiate the "antu," or river god, who they tell me might otherwise be offended, and afflict them with sickness. As we sit beside this rushing river, the most gorgeous butterflies flit here in the chequered shade afforded by overhanging branches. Yellow, white, and brown species vie with each other in activity. Now and then the most splendid ornithoptera are seen, their strong and swift flight resembling that of a bird. One lovely fellow, fully six inches across the wings, settled on my boot as I remained motionless watching it. It was of a velvety blackness, with a bold band of pea-green across the wings. Another species rather smaller has a band of metallic blue. These delicate insects are generally most numerous by rivers, or in sunny places by the dry beds of streams, and, singularly enough, are most abundant during the cool wet monsoon. August 11th.--A lovely morning, and at sunrise we obtained charming views of "Kina Balu." The rugged top crags were especially well defined, as also the sloping plateau, which seemingly forms the watershed for one of the highest falls. Apparently we are quite near to the mountain, and the waterfall is distinctly audible, which does much to increase the delusion. As the sun's power increased, however, the view lost its distinctness, and in half an hour's time heavy white mist clouds had swept around its summit, and all its beauty of tint and shadow was lost to view. We ate a hurried breakfast, and started for Koung, a large and prosperous village situated a little to the south-east of Saduc-Saduc, the mountain ascended by Mr. Thomas Lobb in 1856. Our way lay diagonally down a hillside drain until we came to the river, which we forded, and then bore to the left across level rice-fields and patches of luxuriant kaladi (Caladium esculentum) and Indian corn, both of which evidently succeed best on these rich low lying alluvial plains. We crossed the river four or five times ere we at last found ourselves on the splendid village green of Koung. This green is a mile or more in length, lying at the foot of a range of sandstone hills which shelter it from the north, while the river skirts its southern side, and another hill rises from the river banks still further southward. It is, in fact, a well watered grassy plain between two sheltering parallel hill ranges, and affords the best pasturage for cattle that I have seen anywhere in the East. Of this the villagers take every advantage, for nowhere have I seen finer kine and buffaloes than here. We reached the headman's house at Koung about four o'clock in a drenching downpour of rain. Some trees beside the stream were draped with a glorious climber, having scarlet flowers (Bauhinia kochiana), and a glaucous climbing plant, having lilac flowers, had completely overrun some of the forest trees on the opposite bank. We took up our quarters in the house of the headman, "Lapayang," to whom Mr. Veitch and myself had given a Tower musket on the last journey I made in this direction. I notice that such of my men as speak the Brunei language can converse with the Dusun very readily after a few days' residence amongst them. This fact was noted by Mr. St. John, and from what I know of the language myself after a year's residence, and aided by vocabularies carefully collected, I believe the language of these people is intermediate between that spoken in the capital, Brunei, and that of the Sulus. Bees-wax and caoutchouc or rubber are frequently offered for barter as we pass through the villages. "Lapayang" welcomed us in his own way by firing a salute, and a gong was beaten to announce our arrival. I was sorry to find that his father had died since my last visit, when he had received us with many expressions of good-will, and told us of Mr. Low's first visit to the mountain, which he remembered well. As we had arrived before our supplies, "Lapayang" brought us some rice and a fowl as a present, and one of his sisters gave us some eggs and a fine cluster of bananas. I felt thankful when we arrived at Koung, since I knew the way from this place to the mountain quite well, and had not to trust to lazy guides, who have not the slightest idea of time or its value to the traveller. My buffalo also had reason to be glad, for here the plucky little beast had the luxury of good herbage on which to feed, a much better thing for him than the miscellaneous browsing afforded by our former halting places. The river runs about fifty yards from our quarters, and is very much swollen, having in many places overflowed its banks. Capital shooting may be had here at the large blue pigeons which roost in the trees beside the river, quite close to the houses. August 12th.--Again a lovely morning as we crossed the ford just at the end of the village and pushed on for Kiau. The road lies by the sides of the river most of the way until the turn to the left is taken up the open rice-fields, which lie below the last-named village. We crossed this river thirteen times to-day, and some of the crossings were deep and rapid. Met troops of natives--male and female--mostly laden with large baskets of tobacco, which they were taking down to the villages nearer the coast to barter for cloth, knives, and other goods, as no traders appear to venture further inland than the first Dusun villages. Most of the men were armed with a long slender-shafted spear, which is especially useful to them in fording the streams. In addition they had the "parang," a sort of scimetar-shaped sword, having a good keen edge. This is slung to a broad belt worn sash-wise over one shoulder, the part which crosses the breast being ornamented with cowrie shells sewn on very thickly. I was very glad when we reached the little farms of the Kiau villagers, and could see their dwellings and palm-trees in the distance. In some of the clearings the crimson-leaved dracæna (D. terminalis) was conspicuous. It has here slender stems five or six feet in height, each terminated by a tuft of bright coloured leaves. Going up the hill slowly, I made a little collection of the weeds found among the rice and kaladi crops. Among these were two pretty little plants of the daisy family (Compositæ), the one with purple and the other with yellow florets. A tiny species of torenia formed spreading tufts of purplish leaves and stems, and bore rather pretty purple and white flowers. A woolly-leaved gnaphalium attaining a foot in height, and bearing dense clusters of yellow immortelle-like flowers, was especially noticeable. There are numerous springs of cool water, clear as crystal, in this hillside, and these are brought down to the path in tiny troughs or aqueducts of bamboo, so that one has only to stoop very slightly to drink, and water-vessels are readily replenished. The whole hillside is dotted with flat-roofed field-huts of clean yellow bamboo. These afford shelter during the mid-day siesta enjoyed by the workers in the field, who are for the most part women and children. Tiny streamlets are met with now and then, and in favourable spots the most graceful tree-ferns of the primæval jungle still linger, although fully exposed to the hot sun. The lower parts of their black trunks, however, are shaded by coarse herbage, and their roots revel among the earth, débris, and wet stones below. In some places the wet earth and stones beside these streams were carpeted with lovely mosses, and of these several rare kinds in good condition were obtained. We met one of my old guides, "Kurow" (see p. 97), this morning as we came along. He came up to me laughing and vociferating loudly. "Soung," who interprets Dusun for me, says that he wants me to understand that he, "Kurow," is glad to see me again, and that he will do all he can to help me. We reached the village about three o'clock in a dense white mist, and it commenced raining heavily a few minutes after our arrival. Among the plants we saw to-day was a splendid large bolbophyllum (B. petreianum). A vanda grew on the trees overhanging the river, but was not in bloom. The deliciously-perfumed snow-white flowers of Dendrobium crumenatum, which were especially beautiful on the immense boulders of granite on the green at Koung, was also often met with to-day, and at one of the fords a large-growing coelogyne (C. racemosa) bore drooping spikes of yellow and white flowers, the entire inflorescence being nearly a yard in length. While my boy was cooking dinner I made sketches of the most peculiar plants of botanical interest met with en route, much to the surprise--I might almost say awe--of the natives, who crowded around me and watched every line--and especially the colouring--with great interest. I was surprised at the small number of women who came to see us in comparison with those who flocked into the house when we were last here. I found, however, that this was owing to their being away engaged in rice planting and other field labour. The headman of this village, named "Lemoung," had died since my last visit, and we saw his grave on the little hill just as we entered the village. A little hut had been erected over it, and this was decorated with eight little streamers of white cloth. His son, "Boloung," now "reigns in his stead." When we took our evening meal most of the women had returned from work, and the house was crowded, and the greatest curiosity was evinced as our plates, knives, forks, and glasses were spread out glitteringly in the lamplight. These people are very different from the Malays of the coast, and never tired of laughing and talking about ourselves and our goods. The women are not in the least secluded, and are far better proportioned, as well as more amiable and industrious, than are their Malayan sisters. Their clothes consist of a "sarong," or short petticoat, fastened around the waist, and reaching to the knees, and a strip of black cloth is bound over the breast. Their ornaments consist of brass wristlets and anklets. Necklets of beads or brass wire are also worn, and over the breasts, as also around the waist, coils of rattan cane dyed black or red are worn. Ferrule-like pieces of tin are often strung on these rattan coils, and strings of beads are also worn around the waist. Ear ornaments are generally of wood, and as large as a wine-cork. Both men and women have holes pierced in their ears, but these are not unfrequently utilised as cigarette-holders, much in the same way as the Zulu Kaffirs at the Cape carry snuff-boxes in their ears. Everywhere here inland we find the native cloth is made from the "lamba" fibre dyed a deep blue-black with native indigo. I procured specimens of this fibre-weaving apparatus, and prepared cloth, and these may now be seen in the large Economic Museum at Kew. After dinner "Kurow," our old guide, and "Boloung," the headman of this village, came in with the avowed purpose of having a chat. They were particularly anxious to hear about the white man who had come to live on the Tampassuk river (Mr. Pretyman), who they had been told intended to make them all pay tribute, which was evidently unpleasant news to them. They also wanted to know where I had been since I left their village, and were very much interested in all I told them about the Sultan of Sulu. The house was full of people of all ages, who had come to see us, and among them were a party from a village three days' journey inland. These were on their way to the coast villages to trade. The produce they had with them was tobacco, bees-wax, india-rubber, and a little "lamba" cloth and raw cotton. These people had never seen a white man before, and seemed rather interested in all we did; and in the accounts their Dusun neighbours gave them of us and our doings, the gist of which was that we came from a large prahu, or ship, to dig up grass and shoot birds, that we ate and drank all sorts of curious things, but singularly enough, as they thought, would not eat rats or tiger-cats, these being esteemed great delicacies here by the native trappers. Here, at Kiau, as at all the Dusun villages along our way, we noticed large quantities of tame or domesticated bees. These are kept in cylindrical hives formed of a hollow tree trunk, and are placed on a shelf fixed under the overhanging eaves of the houses. In several instances the hives were on shelves inside the houses, a hole being made through the "ataps" corresponding with the hole in the hive, so as to allow of egress and ingress, a plan similar to that adopted by the bee-keeping natives of Kashmir. August 13th.--I and Smith have been busy all morning, overhauling our stores and goods, and getting ready for our going up the mountain to-morrow. Our rice had suffered from damp, but as we find we can buy some here, it does not matter so much. Several fowls were also brought in for sale this morning, so that we are not likely to starve. Having put all our gear into order after our seven days' march, we took our guns and a couple of men, and took the path leading eastward, which led us across one or two rice and vegetable plots, in which tobacco plants were growing freely, and at last we crossed a recent clearing and reached the forest, which crests the spur or hill range on which the village of Kiau stands. We turned northwards and climbed the hillside, which was stiff work, being in places nearly perpendicular. Here I found a pretty foliage plant, having strap-shaped leaves six inches in length, glossy green, boldly variegated with silver-white above, while the underside of the leaves was of a deep blood colour. Of this I gathered as much as I desired, and a wild plantain or banana growing near, I cut one down, and packing my plants close together in damp moss and earth, I enveloped them in the cool moist sheathing layers of the banana stem. Thus packed, they occupy but little space, and are easily carried without risk of damage by drought or friction. Saw several coelogynes in flower on the surrounding trees, but other orchids seemed scarce. I made a collection of ferns, mosses, &c., for drying, but nothing striking from a horticultural point of view was seen. We gained the crest of the ridge after an hour's hard work, and followed it eastward for two or three miles, but without any change in the vegetation. On returning, we did not descend the way we came, but followed the crest in a westward direction, and from one point we got a capital view of one of the waterfalls on the mountain. It was now becoming misty, however, and we returned to the village, which we reached just in time to avoid a drenching, for the rain came down in torrents. I sent one of my men to fetch "Kurow," and when he came I told him I wanted to bargain with him to take me to the mountain in the morning. He at first said he couldn't bargain, because "Boloung," the headman, was out. He had scarcely spoken, however, before "Boloung" himself entered from the other end of the house. Finding this loophole closed, he said he could not bargain to-day, because it was an unlucky day to him. He had visited all his traps and snares this morning, he said, and there was nothing caught, adding that he knew it before he started; this was his bad day. "Boloung" said they would come in and bargain in the morning. Fortunately I was not entirely dependent on them, and could have found the way myself, intricate as it is. Anyone who had not travelled here before, however, is entirely dependent on these people as guides, and their utter disregard of the value of time is perplexing enough to a stranger with limited supplies of food for himself and followers. It was these people who turned back Mr. Thomas Lobb when he attempted to ascend Kina Balu from this village in 1856, and the moral force of a well-armed and rather imposing party is still necessary in order to keep their avarice within moderate bounds, and to obtain from them the little assistance necessary. When Mr. Low ascended the mountain in 1851, he gave many presents to these people, and even now the wealth the village obtained through his visit is much talked of among the hill villagers. When Mr. Lobb was there, five years later, he had but a small party of followers, and not being prepared to pay in cloth and other goods so liberally as Mr. Low had done, they refused to help him, and he was compelled to leave without ascending the mountain, as he had desired to do. Even in 1858 Mr. Low and Mr. S. St. John had to "guard carefully against pilferers," and had a little hostility to contend with as well. On their second expedition, in the same year, however, they experienced a better reception. Some years later, I believe in 1866, an Italian expedition came here for natural history purposes, and the Dusun account is that they ascended 6,000 feet. This expedition, according to native accounts, paid twice as much as was necessary, a precedent which gives these hill villagers an excuse for extortion. When I and Mr. Peter Veitch came here, eight months ago, we had a well-armed force at our backs, and we taught the Kiau people how to moderate their desires by paying a just price for all they gave or sold to us, and for all services performed, but we gave no presents. Livingstone [7] deprecates the system of giving presents in his first work on travel, and he is not the only traveller who has had reason to complain of a mode of procedure which invariably causes inconvenience to others. These people were always well-disposed towards us, and this time I find our plan was a good one, for there is no misunderstanding; fowls, rice, and other provisions are far more easily procurable now, since the natives know that all will be fairly paid for, whereas under the old system their object was to give a small present in the hope of receiving something far more valuable. August 14th.--"Kurow" came in this morning, and commenced to "bargain" cautiously by asking to see the goods we were willing to pay for guides. "Suong," our interpreter, who was an adept at trading, spread out some cloth and other things to the value of a few shillings, and after a deal of talking an agreement was arrived at by "Kurow" and "Boloung" consenting to accompany us in return for these things and an old coat of mine, upon which "Kurow" had cast longing eyes ever since my arrival. Among the goods was an entire length--twenty-six yards--of grey shirting, and this was brought back for me to divide into two halves, each of these dusky chiefs seeming firmly convinced that the other would "best" him if possible. Having, after some slight trouble, divided the cloth to their liking, and handed them the other goods in pre-payment, another difficulty arose, both declaring that they could not start to the mountain to-day, as they had no rice, and must needs go to the next village to obtain some. By this time all my men were ready to start, and as I had said I should set out to-day, I was determined to do so at all risks. I explained to them that they had plenty of rice in their village, but that if they really wanted more "Kurow" had better accompany us, and "Boloung" could obtain supplies and come on after us on the morrow, adding that we should start at once, and if their agreement was not kept we should of course take back the goods we had pre-paid them. It must be distinctly understood that in Borneo pre-payment for goods or services to be rendered is the national custom, just as it is in South America. In the latter country the natives who collect the india-rubber or caoutchouc in Brazil may serve as an illustration of the fact. I left my "boy," who was rather unwell, and the only old man in our party, to "abide by the stuff" in the house, and shouldered my gun and left our guides to think matters over. We had not proceeded above a mile, however, before "Kurow" overtook us, and went on ahead as cheerful as possible. After an hour or two of rough walking on shelving forest-paths, varied here and there by slippery logs, we came to a mountain-stream, probably one of the tributaries of the Haya-Haya. Here, in a large stone trap, the worthy "Kurow" was fortunate enough to find a large wild cat. I had not spoken to him since he overtook us, but I could not resist the opportunity of reminding him that this was one of his lucky days! We crossed here, the water being deliciously fresh and cool, and another hour's stiff walking brought us over the base of the next spur, and to our old quarters, the "Sleeping Rock," where we were to rest for the night. This is a gigantic overhanging boulder near a foaming torrent. A pretty little maidenhair fern, before alluded to, grew here in great plenty, and attained the greatest luxuriance among the débris of former camp fires. Overhead a colony of mason bees had established themselves, forming multitudes of little rounded mud nests on the face of the rock, and when we lighted our fires the smoke disturbed them much. A still greater nuisance, however, was our guide, "Kurow," who made a fire and commenced to cook his wild cat by roasting it, hair, skin and all, without the slightest preparation. When Mr. Veitch and myself slept here during my first visit, he had two rats--rather high they were too--which he roasted entire, and ate with great satisfaction! The soil near the bottom of these immense spurs is very rich, as attested by the luxuriance of bamboo and species of ginger which are comparatively puny on poor land. Beside the mountain torrents a pink-spathed aroid (Gamogyne Burbidgei, N. E. Br.) is common, and rather pretty. A species of dwarf palm (Areca, sp.), bearing clusters of small scarlet fruits, is noticeable, and a trailing plant, allied to the jasmines, bore axillary clusters of white waxy flowers, each having a brown eye-like spot in its centre. The perfume emitted by its blossoms was delicious, and resembled that of spring hyacinths. A red-fruited raspberry (Rubus rosæfolius), and several species of ferns and selaginellas carpeted the low shady forest along our route. The only bird we saw was a lyre-tailed shrike of a dark ash colour. Our dinner consisted of a fowl cut up and boiled with a little rice, and when it was nearly done we added a small tin of Julienne soup to it, thus securing some substantial potage, and we were hungry enough to appreciate it at its full value. A cup of coffee and a cigar made us forget all our bruises, and knowing the stiff day's work we had for the morrow, we retired to our blankets early. August 15th.--We awoke about 5 A.M. and aroused our followers. A Malay named "Jeludin," acted as cook in the absence of my regular "boy," and he prepared a very palatable breakfast of the remains of our dinner, supplemented by nicely boiled rice and dried fish. "Kurow" breakfasted off wild cat roasted à la Dusun, and a little rice which we gave him. After breakfast he sat smoking, and "Suong" came and told me that he would not go up the mountain. On my asking him his reason for resolving thus, he replied that he could not go because he had no trowsers, nor coat, nor head-cloth. I had given him a warm tweed coat previous to starting, but this he had left in his house. I at once told him through "Suong," that if he did not go as I had paid him to do, I should tell all the headmen as we returned to the coast, that he broke his bargains, and was afraid to go up the mountain. This threat had the desired effect on him; for after reflecting on it several minutes, he arose and prepared to start, saying with charming naïveté, that "I was a good man, and that he liked me." About seven o'clock "Boloung" and five or six of his followers rejoined us, as they had promised, and we set off on our way up the spur. Our path at first lay up the bed of the torrent, but we left this in a few minutes, bearing up the spur to the right, past a bamboo fence in which rat-traps were placed at intervals of a few feet. Here and there, too, we noticed the dangerous spring pig-spearing apparatus, so commonly met with in the forests of the Murut and Kayan tribes who live further south. The deposit of forest débris at the base of this south spur is very rich in ferns and herbaceous plants. A melastomad here and there bore clusters of pretty pink flowers. Of this plant, which grew in the moss beside the path, there are green and purple-leaved varieties. A glossy-leaved ardisia, having clusters of red berries, the foliage being claret-coloured beneath, was conspicuous; and the stems of a shrub four feet high were covered with clusters of vermilion-tinted berries the size of small peas; another shrub, a yard high, having lance-shaped serrate leaves, bore clusters of pure white, gesnera-like flowers. As we climbed higher up the mountain side, rhododendra, bearing white, scarlet, yellow, or magenta-coloured blossoms, began to appear, and epiphytal and terrestrial orchids also became more plentiful. The curious pitcher-plants also increased in profusion, some being of a wondrous size and of the most singular form, colour and texture. At one place in a secluded mossy nook, where Mr. Veitch and I had obtained plants during our last ascent, I found that some cuttings we had accidentally left on the ground had thrown out numerous fresh roots into the wet moss on which they lay! The delicately perfumed little orchid, Dendrochilum glumaceum, was flowering freely, its elegantly drooping inflorescence resembling the most dainty filagree work. Golden and white-flowered coelogynes nestled here and there beside our path. In one place, the curious little Rhododendron ericifolium was in bloom; and another species, growing on mossy trunks, bore waxy, bell-shaped flowers of a clear orange-scarlet colour. The dark glossy green foliage of this last reminded one of that of a sciadopitys in form, being linear, and arranged in whorls. It has been named (Rhododendron stenophyllum, Hook. f.). As we ascended the temperature fell faster and faster, and at intervals we were completely enveloped in dense clouds of mist, while at other times they were dispersed, and the sun brightened up the mountain side. One place we passed this morning is rather dangerous, almost like walking on the ridge of a high building, the descent on one side however being a sheer precipice of 1,500 feet, and the other side is steep; but there are a few bushes near, which give one confidence. At 8,000 feet we again enter a dripping cloud, or rather it sweeps down to meet us, and the trees here are of low stature and gnarled, the branches being so low that in places one has to crawl through them. Casuarina trees are commonly met with. The ground and lower bushes are covered with wet mosses, and white hair-like masses of usnea sway to and fro in the higher branches. The cold increased, and my Labuan men felt it very much. I looked at my thermometer at three o'clock during a heavy shower, and at an altitude of 9,000 feet, and it registered 56°. In England one would consider this a delicious temperature; but when we started this morning we had a temperature thirty degrees higher. It was curious to notice the effect the depression of heat and the rain had on my men, who had never in their lives known the thermometer below 70°. They appeared perfectly paralysed; and the Dusun themselves were but little better. We reached our former camping-place, the cave, about 3.30, wet, cold, tired, and hungry. Five of the fellows were so far chilled and exhausted that they gave up when within ten minutes of the cave, and huddled themselves close together under some dry rocks. I sent twice for them to come on to us, but they would not move, and passed the night without fire or food, rather than bestir themselves to prepare either. We managed to start a fire after some difficulty, and then pulled off our cold wet garments. I got one of my Malays to rub me briskly all over with a coarse towel, and then put on two flannel shirts, trowsers, and jacket, after which I felt comparatively comfortable. One of the Dusun fetched us some water from a stream half a mile off; and it was so icy cold as to make one's teeth chatter to drink it--rather a novelty in the tropics. "Jeludin," although shivering, set about cooking our dinner; and "Suong," who was the most useful man I had, chopped up enough wood to last us all the night. The men who came on with us sat shivering under the rocks for over an hour, before I could induce them to set about lighting themselves a fire. It was, indeed, really painful to see the poor fellows so utterly paralysed. "Boloung," the chief of the Kiau Dusun, who had accompanied us, had carried up a fowl under his arm the whole way; and when he reached the cave, I was agreeably surprised when he presented it to me, and I took it as a great compliment, for it is extremely rare for a Dusun to put himself to so much trouble even for a friend, much less for a stranger like myself. This fowl, although lively enough in the morning, had become so wet and cold during the ascent, that it appeared to be dead; indeed, I thought it was dead for some time, but on holding it near the fire, it revived a little. Our Dusun followers made their encampment under a dry, overhanging rock, a quarter of a mile ahead of us. We had a view of the great waterfall on the bare granite rocks of the mountain opposite, and could hear the dash of its current into the stream below very plainly. After dinner we made up a good fire; and never did I fancy a cup of hot coffee so delicious as this seemed to be; while the primest of fragrant Havannahs have been far less comforting than was the modest cigarette of native grown tobacco, which one of my followers made and presented to me on the spot. Our fire blazed up brightly, and diffused both warmth and fragrance in our rocky dwelling; and, wrapping our rugs and blankets around us, we were soon asleep, surrounded by our Labuan men, who crowded around the fire, and kept it replenished with fuel throughout the night. CHAPTER XIV. Plant collecting--Large nepenthes--Sociable birds--Mountain climbing--Cold nights--Descent--Safe return to Kiau--Old skulls--Tree ferns--Fine climate--Land culture--Crossing rivers--"Lapayang's" welcome--Tarippe fruit--"Benhau"--Pleasant evening at Kambatuan village--Graceful young girls--Bundoo--Little gardens en route--Ghinambaur village--A hard day's walking--Return to the Tampassuk--Short-tailed buffaloes--Two-horned rhinoceros--Return to Labuan--Smith's illness--Success of the expedition. August 16th.--We were up by daybreak; and while "Jeludin" was preparing breakfast, I went out with the men collecting such plants as I wanted, and packing them in the native sago-sheath baskets (granjombs) with which we had provided ourselves. I was anxious to begin thus early, as I wanted to start most of the men back to Kiau to-day. After three or four hours' hard work, we loaded twelve men and started them off on the downward journey; and as we intended staying two days longer up the mountain, they had orders to collect other plants which I had pointed out to them near Kiau. After starting them off, I was glad to take breakfast before exploring further for other things which I much wished to procure. After our repast I started off over the ridge of the spur, progress, however, being very slow, as nearly all the way one had to climb through branches, roots, or low shrubs. A glossy-leaved begonia, with large white flowers, was common beside the streams, and three species of coelogyne were met with growing among the rocks and bushes. A great many small-flowered orchids of various genera were seen, but few were in bloom. Dacrydium, phyllocladus, and a peculiar casuarina of drooping habit were seen, and several herbaceous plants, among which I noted a drosera and a species of dianella, much resembling those of Australia. Among ferns were at least two species of trichomanes, two or three gleichenias, a peculiar form of dipteris resembling D. Horsfieldii, but dwarfer and quite glaucous, nearly white indeed below, and a strong-growing blechnum. Several mosses in fruit were gathered, and most of them were either absolutely new, or had not been discovered in Borneo before. Here and there I came across patches of an acre or two in extent of rocky mountain side without any tree-growth. These rocky patches were carpeted with coarse sedges, among which the great Nepenthes Rajah grew luxuriantly, an enormous crimson-tinted pitcher depending from each of its large lower leaves. These gigantic urns were for the most part filled with rain-water, among which were the remains of ants, beetles, and other insect-life. Nearly all the pitchers were found resting on the surface of the earth, and in most cases they were hidden by the overhanging leaves, sedges, and débris among which the plants grow. It was, in the case of the younger specimens--plants a foot high or so--that the pitchers were most evident and luxuriant. Seedlings of this size were even more ornamental than their big jug-bearing brethren. Here and there were specimens of N. Rajah, great clumps having stems five or six feet in height, with very broad massive leaves, and pitchers capable of holding two or three pints of water. It is these large plants which flower most freely, some of the stems bearing three or four spikes of their rich maroon-tinted blossoms, around which two or three kinds of flies or gnats were playing in the sunshine. The female plants were not nearly so plentiful as were the males, and I am inclined to think that these tiny flies aid fertilisation, for some of the female plants were a long way distant from any males, and yet they appeared to have been fertilised. N. villosa is often found in these open patches with the larger kind just alluded to, but more frequently it affects the margins of the open patches, and luxuriates among the low bushes, by which its weaker and more elongated stems are supported. N. Lowii and the beautiful N. Edwardsiana appear never to reach so high an altitude as those just named. I cannot describe the elated emotions I felt in traversing this mountain side, and gazing on forms of vegetable life the most remarkable of any to be found in the whole world! Hunger, bruises, and the repeated drenchings we had received during our journey hither, these and all other of our troubles seemed to vanish as I gazed around me on the wonders of creation and inhaled the cool invigorating mountain air. We returned to our cave-dwelling about four o'clock. As I write up my diary, a tiny bird is flitting about quite close to me, and does not appear in the least afraid. It is but little larger than a wren, its body being of a dark brown colour; the head and shoulders are mottled with yellowish brown. From its lively and erratic flight, I suspect it is of the flycatcher group. It flits backwards and forwards from bough to bough, and frequently leaves a branch as though flying right off, and quite surprises you by suddenly and adroitly twisting itself round and dropping back into the place from which it started. Another occasional visitor is a blackbird, having a golden bill and a reddish-brown breast. It strongly resembles our own blackbird indeed, but is perhaps a trifle fuller in the body. Again, we heard the little songster alluded to in the account of my first visit here. I know of no bird whose melody possesses the ravishing sweetness and variety of melody of this one, its song in the early morning being especially delightful. Were it possible to introduce it, this little stranger would be a most welcome addition to our domesticated song-birds here at home. Space is limited here in this cave, and one has to sit pretty close to the fire. Just after dinner to-night, as I sat making notes in my pocket-book, Smith, in lifting our extemporised kettle off the fire, let it fall, and the boiling water fell over my feet. My boots were off, and the pain was rather hard to bear. "Suong," who is equal to all emergencies, recommends me to put some wet salt on the scalded portions of my feet, which, to please him, I did, and the pain soon after abated. I was very sorry for this accident, being afraid it would prevent my extending my excursions up the mountain side to-morrow, as I had arranged to do. It is raining very heavily, and Smith reminds me that we have only had two wholly fine days since leaving Labuan. August 17th.--Our cave had become drier, owing to the fire we had constantly kept burning, and we slept well last night. One of our men, on going to his basket this morning, found a rat in it, which he at once secured and killed. It had doubtless been tempted by the warmth and his little store of food. It resembled very nearly the long-tailed grey Norway species, now so common in England, and was quite distinct from the short-tailed, long-snouted kind, of which "Kurow" had trapped two specimens during our first visit here. When our Dusun guides came in, one of them quickly appropriated it as a desirable addition to his edible stores. Our own breakfast this morning was of oatmeal porridge (a nice change from constantly eating rice) and tea and biscuit. I had some difficulty in putting my boots on, owing to the scalding my feet received last night. My feet were very painful at first, but getting warm with walking, they did not inconvenience me so much as I had expected. We had a long walk up the mountain side to-day searching for seeds and plants. The highest height we reached was 10,700 feet, but it must be pointed out that our object was to collect all the plants and seeds we could in the richest vegetable zone on the mountain, and not to reach the summit. Had our object been to ascend to the top nothing would have prevented our doing so; indeed, the real difficulties of climbing "Kina Balu" are very few, and not worth mentioning; indeed, we found our journey to its base from the coast far more exacting to our strength and temper. We were fortunate in our search to-day, having, after a long and disappointing search yesterday, failed to obtain the particular plants and seeds I was anxious to obtain. To-day, however, I was rewarded by finding a few in good condition. We returned to our cave at about four o'clock, and found our Dusun followers, who had been in another direction, had also brought me in a nice lot of seeds, plants, and flowers. They had complained of the cold nights on the mountain, and threatened to leave us this morning (as indeed they did last journey), but I promised them some rice for their evening meal, and eventually they had consented to stay another night. Before dinner we packed up our plants and seeds carefully, and arranged everything ready for our descent in the morning. I wished to start early, so as to have plenty of time for collecting on our way, as at one spot I much wished to make a détour to collect seeds. Our bird visitors came around us to-day again, and fearlessly came quite close to pick up the crumbs of rice we threw towards them. We have had rain more or less for two whole days, and it was bitterly cold towards eight o'clock, when we wrapped our rugs around us to retire for the night. My thermometer stood at 45° just outside the cave, and during the night it had descended to 38°. I awoke during the night quite stiff with cold, although I lay close to a good fire. My rugs had slipped from my shoulders, and I was glad to fold them tightly around me, and to put more fuel on the fire. It was a lovely moonlight night, the light being so strong on the branches opposite our cave as to make them look as if covered with snow. Mr. St. John mentions having seen a sort of hoar-frost here during one of his journeys. The great fall looked like a silver streak down the rocky mountain side opposite, and the rush of its waters into the chasm below comes quite clearly through the night air. August 18th.--While Jeludin boiled the water for our coffee this morning, I carved my initials on the soft red sandstone wall of our cave, and then clambered up a tree just opposite to try and get a better view. All is mist and cloud below us except seaward, where a strip of the coast line and the rivers towards Menkabong and Gaya are visible. I can see the great fall very plainly coming down the face of the rock opposite, just where it disappears into the wooded gully, below there is a magnificent grove of tree ferns, and as I am fully a thousand feet above them, I can look down on their expanded clusters of fresh green fronds, and the effect in the morning sunlight is past all description. About 7.30 a.m. we started on our downward journey, at first climbing the ridge through roots and branches which were notched here and there for foothold. On reaching the path above, a few minutes' walk brings us to a series of great steps and an open space or two covered with jutting rocks and boulders, sedges, low bushes, and the great pitcher-plants. Here we made a short stay collecting, much to the disgust of our Dusun guides, who pointed to the dark clouds and told us we should have rain, and much wished us to push onwards. Lower down still we came across plants of the beautiful Nepenthes Edwardsiana, scrambling up bushes and casuarina trees to a height of twenty or thirty feet. Both this species, and also the curious N. Lowii, are frequently perfectly epiphytal, all the old stems and roots originally in the ground being dead, but the top growth has rooted into the wet moss and débris which rests on the trees and bushes everywhere around. Of the first-named there are two distinct varieties, differing in the length and form of their pitchers. N. Lowii is first seen at about 5,000 feet, and is one of the most singular of the whole group, its urns being flagon-shaped, and of a hard leather-like consistence. Growing quite plentifully beside the path were tiny plants bearing tripetalous flowers of a white or pink tint, and very pretty. In some places it was quite bushy in habit and a foot in height, being literally covered with blossoms. Some large mosses, one of them having stems a foot in height, were also gathered, and a few inconspicuous orchids, epiphytal and otherwise, were observed in bloom. A plumose filmy fern (Trichomanes, sp.?) depended here and there from the half rotten casuarina branches overhead. Owing to the rain yesterday our descent was far from pleasant, and falls were not infrequent, in fact on both occasions I have found descending this mountain very troublesome and dangerous owing to the wretched paths one has to follow. I carried a sago sheath basket behind me, fitted with bark straps for the shoulders, and it was lucky I did so, for I had one or two nasty falls backwards, and it saved my head more than once from contact with the slippery stones. Our guides have at last gone on a-head quite disgusted at my stopping here and there to take up a plant or gather seeds, which I can never resist doing. My boots had given way like brown paper owing to their being constantly wet, and I had to tie them on my feet with strips of bark. My feet had chafed where scalded, and were now very painful, while the constant strain on the legs during the slippery descent was very exhausting. However after many falls backwards and forwards we reached Kiau about four o'clock p.m. thoroughly tired and hungry. I felt thankful when I regained the hill above the village where all the hard work is over. I had tired out the patience first of our guides, then of my Labuan men, and even Smith had at last left me lingering collecting roots and specimens, and so I was the last man of our party to reach the village. As I descended the hill three of my men met me and took my load of plants, for I had both arms full besides the basket at my back. Tired and wet as I was I could not resist the impulse to look at the plants my men had brought down two days before, and I was glad to find that they were fresh and healthy. A mist swept around us soon after I got inside the house, and the steady rain we had experienced all the afternoon changed to a regular downpour. I was glad to put on my dry clothes after a thorough good wash and rub down with a towel warmed at the fire. I found that the skin was off my feet in great patches, and they swelled very much after removing my boots. Smith had a large sore on his heel, and he agreed with me that our ascent was child's play compared with the descent. My "boy" had cooked us some rice and had bought us some fine ripe tarippe fruit to eat with it. We afterwards had a cup of nice warm chocolate each, and lighting our cigarettes, our fatigue and bruised shins were soon forgotten, as we nestled cosily in our warm rugs in the glow of a sweet wood fire. After our return crowds of people flocked in to see us, and the house resembled a market-place, fowls, rice, sweet potatoes, maize cobs, rattan hats, tobacco, wax, caoutchouc, and Dusun gourd-organs of bamboo being among the produce and manufactures offered. The men squat down in groups, and there is a great deal of talking about the mountain and "Tuan Hillow" (Mr. Low), and "Tuan Bunga," the name by which I am known to these people as well as to the Malays of the coast. It is quite a gala night, and the young girls are full of questions about the mountain. My men "Suong" and "Jeludin" told me that the cave on the mountain was a good place to sleep in, as there were no spirits there, adding that on the island at Gaya, and also at Pulo-Tiga they had been afraid to sleep, as the spirits were so many there! By the first stream we crossed to-day in descending the mountain, a pretty pink-flowered impatiens was flowering freely, and on the wet rocks we noticed a tuft of red-berried nertera. On a dripping wet rock here also a very fine trichomanes luxuriates, forming large mat-like masses of black roots, and long finely-cut filmy fronds. Two boys brought in a quantity of anæctochili to-night soon after our arrival, and asked for needles in exchange, which we gladly gave them. The talking and laughter of the natives, who seemed quite pleased at our safe return, lasted until I fell asleep about eight o'clock, how much later I do not know. Previous to this I called "Suong," and bade him tell all the villagers assembled that I intended leaving in the morning, so as to give time for my men to prepare their things, and that the natives, knowing our intentions, might bring in any fowls or rice they wished to sell early ere our departure. August 19th.--First thing this morning I heard that our buffalo, which had been turned loose to graze on the green here, is missing. All the men went to seek it while we ate our breakfast. "Kurow" had so often tried to induce me to exchange this animal--a female--for a male of his own that I was for a time suspicious of his having stolen it during the night. We had intended to start for Koung to-day, but the loss of our buffalo will detain us, as we cannot well leave without it, partly on account of its use to me now that my feet are raw and tender, and partly because it will not do to allow a theft to pass unpunished. A Dusun woman brought in a basket of fresh ginger roots this morning, which I find is cultivated by these people. Several fowls and some rice were also brought in, and these my "boy" bought in exchange for our old biscuit tins and glass bottles. During our forced delay I walked out to take a last look at the village, and to make a few sketches and notes. In the little flat-topped hut, which served as a head-house, I found a pile of about fifty skulls in one corner, some being in a basket suspended on the wall. These, the villagers tell me, are the skulls of their old enemies, and their individuality seemed well known to one old man, who pointed out several to me as having once rested on the shoulders of some of the Chinese settlers, who, some few years ago, disappeared from this Dusun country altogether, although their peculiar physiognomy still lingers among the Dusun tribes into which they married, so that it is just possible that they became absorbed into the native tribes. Others were pointed out as the heads of their old foes the Lanun, whom the Dusun people detest, say that they formerly came up to the hills with the ostensible purpose of trading, but adding, that they really wanted to steal their children as slaves. I offered "Boloung" a good Tower musket for a couple of these heads, but so highly are they still valued by these people that he refused to part with them, even for so high a price. This custom of head-hunting may be said to have died out amongst the Dusun, since they failed to subsist by hunting, and have taken to the less exciting employment of land culture. One place was pointed out to me where thirty men and their chief had been slaughtered together and their heads taken, only a few years ago. This was at a ford near Sineroup, and a rude circle of stones still marks the spot where the bodies were interred; all the stones are single except that which represents the chief, which has a smaller stone on its apex. I find the custom of marking burial places with erect stones very common among these people. On returning to the house I find that "Kurus," one of my men, a shock-haired Bruneian, has brought in my buffalo, having tracked it through the soft mud to a bit of jungle at some distance from the village, and there he found him tied to a tree! The large house in which we stayed is big enough to accommodate five or six families, and the large common room, which extends from end to end, will hold twenty or thirty men and their baggage quite comfortably, having three or four hearth-stones for fires at intervals. It stands on a grassy knoll just at the entrance to the village, and the group of pinang and cocoa-nut palms on the lower side give to it quite a picturesque appearance. All over this district tree-ferns are very beautiful, especially so in the valleys and glades which exist up among these cool hills. Every now and then the traveller comes upon whole groves of them, and solitary groups exist even in the cultivated ground. So sweetly fresh and green are they, and quite distinct in form and tint from all surrounding vegetation, indeed, these feathery tree-ferns, and the tall clustering wands of bamboo, form the most distinctive features of the landscape. We at length bade our friends good-bye, and the whole village came to the knoll above the stream to see us start, and the girls were especially interested and begged of us to come again and bring them some needles, looking-glasses, and cloth. Coming down the hill-side cornfields from Kiau I saw here and there patches of cotton (Gossypium barbadense), and a delicate pink-flowered variety of tobacco was in bloom, and being supported by stakes, were perhaps left for seed. On the steep side of the opposite hill are numerous little farms, and on each you see a tiny flat-topped bamboo-hut which is used for shelter and rest during field labour. The soil is a reddish friable loam, thickly sprinkled with large sandstone boulders and stones; while in the lower plains and valleys is a deep black deposit which under irrigation yields splendid crops of rice. Under European protection and management, aided by systematic Chinese coolie labour, the virgin tracts on these hill ranges might be worked with advantage in the production of coffee and cinchona. Once fairly started, and with improved roads, this district would possess many attractions, not the least being a comparatively cool and salubrious climate. At elevations of 3,000 to 5,000 feet a cool bracing air is readily obtainable, indeed, as suggested by Mr. Low, the Marie Parie spur would form a capital site for a sanatorium of the utmost value to Europeans. At higher elevations a really cool climate, almost European, in fact, is obtainable. To bring this fertile district into cultivation and to form anything like good roads, however, would be a task Herculean, and one only to be accomplished by an immense expenditure of labour and capital. The system employed by the natives in clearing their new farms is to fell the trees and then to burn them during the dry season. The old stumps are left, and to prevent the rich earth and forest débris from being washed away by heavy rains, logs are laid against these horizontally all down the steep shoulders of the spurs. Land newly cleared yields splendid crops of hill or dry rice, maize, kaladi, tobacco, sweet potato, and other crops. There is very little primitive forest on these lower hill ranges and spurs, nearly all the land not now actually under culture being fallow, in the shape of low jungle. The only really virgin forest is the tops of the hills beyond Kiau and the spurs of Kina Balu itself on the south and east sides. On our way to Koung to-day we had a lot of trouble owing to the swollen and rapid state of the river, which we crossed no less than thirteen times. All along our way we saw little torrents of muddy water pouring into the river from the hill-sides. The two last times we had to cross the stream previous to our reaching the regular ford at the entrance to Koung village were really very dangerous, and I shudder when I think of the surging torrents we crossed, and of the large treacherous boulders, water-worn and as smooth as ice, which lay hidden in their beds. I rode my buffalo: Smith walked and clung to the ropes which held the saddle. The banks of the stream were overflowed so that we could not tell exactly the proper place to cross. My buffalo was a brave and careful animal, and must have been possessed of immense power, seeing how she carried me and dragged poor Smith over safely. I shall never forget our last crossing. We had missed the proper place to ford without our knowing it. The place we had chosen to cross was, as we afterwards found, a succession of smooth boulders and deep holes. The buffalo had to feel its way, and when in mid-stream, unluckily, set its feet on a boulder. Splash we went, all over together, into a deep hole. Ugh! how I did shiver as I sank to my neck with the buffalo submerged beneath me. As we rose again I glanced around and thought for a moment poor Smith had gone. In a moment, however, he rose to the surface of the stream, where he lay extended grasping the ropes of the saddle with one hand at arm's-length, and gasping for breath. All the time we were being carried down stream, and bravely as the plucky buffalo struggled her feet continually slipped on the loose pebbles below. "Hold on, Smith!" I gasped, as splash we all went over another gigantic boulder, and the water surged up to my ears although on the back of the beast. I clung like a sailor in a gale. Fortunately for us the buffalo regained her footing, and clearing the current by a great effort she carried me and dragged poor old Smith up the bank Koung-wards. "That's a narrow squeak, old boy," I said, but Smith was too exhausted to answer as he tottered and staggered to a seat on a stone lying near. I also was glad to rest, and although thankful for our merciful escape, I could scarcely look sober as I glanced at Smith, who was as white as a ghost, and staggered like a drunken man. "Well," said he, when he had recovered his breath, "it's all very well laughing, but you don't catch me crossing in that way again." And in justice to his veracity I must own that I never did, for he avoided me and the beast at crossings ever afterwards. Arriving at the ford at Koung a young Dusun came and assisted Smith over, the water being very high and rising every minute. He then recrossed and led over my buffalo, who a few minutes afterwards once more regained her liberty on the green, while we, as usual, took up our quarters with "Lapayang" in his bamboo-house. He and his people were surprised at our having got across the river to-day, and pointed to where it was rushing and foaming a yard higher than its usual current. Smith lost his stick and some plants he was carrying for me, and his rifle, too, would have gone had it not been strapped to his back. No one can possibly understand the danger of these swollen torrents who has not had personal experience of them. Once off one's feet in the surging stream, running seven or eight miles an hour at the least, one's life would inevitably be dashed away on the boulders and jagged rocks which occur every few yards. Adventures of this kind look tame when calmly written down after all danger is past, and when read by a comfortable fireside, but they are really very real and exciting when one is undergoing them in person. A little later we were surprised by "Suong" and my "boy," poor little "Kimjeck," who came in looking as miserable as drowned rats. They had avoided the dangerous fords by coming along the hill-path beside the river, but my other fellows refused to come on, and took shelter from the rain in some Dusun huts midway. "Lapayang" received us kindly, as usual, and gave us a fowl and some rice, and lent us some cooking pots. Another villager brought us eggs and a cluster of fine golden bananas--I never tasted more delicious ones--so that we dined well after all our mishaps. After dinner our host brought us in a couple of fine large tarippe fruit, just at a time when dessert was least expected; we deserved it, however, and enjoyed it accordingly. I think I never felt so fatigued before in my life, my feet and legs were sore, and the exertion of the descent yesterday, and the falls I had, made me ache all over. Added to this, my skin from head to foot was covered with irritable red eruptions, caused by a minute red parasite of acaroid nature, which my men told me came off the buffalo on which I had ridden. As we sat smoking after dinner we heard the rain falling very heavily, and it lasted most of the night. The troubles of the day are ended, and we have cause to be grateful for our preservation from its dangers. August 20th.--It was at first very wet this morning, but an hour after sunrise it cleared up and the sun shone beautifully. Our laggards came in about eight o'clock, just as we finished our breakfast of fowl and rice. There are plenty of fine cocoanut trees here, and one can obtain fine fruit. "Kurow" overtook us here this morning, having, together with his little daughter and another girl, walked from Kiau since daybreak. They are going on to Kambatuan, he tells me, to trade, and the girls have baskets of tobacco on their backs. We bought some cocoanuts and paid our host "Lapayang." He particularly wanted some powder and caps for his musket, and these we gave him, together with a handkerchief or two, and looking-glasses for his sisters, two fine girls, both married to young men of the village. We started for Kambatuan after all our men had arrived, and "Kurow" accompanied us. Altogether we had a day's rough work, two of the crossings being shoulder high and very rapid, so that only I and the buffalo could cross, and the men and Smith had to follow the windings of the river a much longer distance over rough ground, for the most part covered with coarse grasses and jungle. It rained heavily at intervals, and we did not reach the foot of Kambatuan hill much before dusk; and after half an hour's climbing up a path like a drain, sometimes stony, sometimes of slippery yellow clay, we reached the village in a regular downpour. Nowhere else in Borneo have I seen such groves of "tarippe" trees as surround this village. When we last visited "Kina Balu" in December, "langsat" fruit was in season, and met with at nearly all the Tawaran villages. Now, in August, the "tarippe," rich and luscious, is most abundant, and now and then a coarse brown fruit, something like a horse-mango, is obtained, and is agreeable for a change. The perfume of the ripe "tarippe" fruit was most cheering to ourselves and our men, and almost as soon as we had got off our wet garments, and put on dry ones, a dusky maiden appeared with four large fruit in her plump little arms. She was dressed à la mode Dusun, and had wire wristlets, and a heavy wire anklet an inch thick, which must have weighed two or three pounds, around her left leg. A younger child brought us some fine plump bananas, which we found to be rich and luscious as new honey, leaving an aroma in the mouth like that produced by ripe filberts and old dry port. We had a large concourse of the villagers in to see us this evening after dinner, including "Beuhan," the headman, who wears a head-cloth and kriss, and in general build and physiognomy resembles the Sulus much more than either Dusun or Malays. "Kurow" was the principal talker, and related all that we had done and how much he had helped us in ascending the mountain. The young girls crowded to see us, and tried hard to get speech with us. We had given the girls who brought us fruit a looking-glass each, and we could quite well understand that all were eager for a similar gift. They were very, very scantily clad; indeed the most tolerant of Lord Chamberlains might well wish to add an inch or two to their tiny petticoat, especially as 'tis the only garment of which they can boast. It answers somewhat to the American definition of a dress "which began too late and left off too soon." Here, however, it is the customary fashion, and as such is honoured. How graceful were the figures of some of these young girls! Perfect little Amazons, lithe of limb and having regular features, eyes full of gentle expression, and a richness of raven hair most European ladies might envy. It is pleasant to know that these dusky girls, lovely as some of them are, will never be degraded to anything worse than field labour, which is a far better lot than that of their Malayan sisters along the coast, whose personal charms chance to be interesting. We found out later on in the evening that the pretty damsel who had first brought us fruit was the headman's daughter, "Sa' Tira" by name. Most of the evening she knelt by the fire, her dainty little fingers busily making cigarettes for her papa's guests, many of whom had arrived from other villages near to look at us. Altogether we spent a very pleasant evening with these hospitable people, and we have no doubt but that they will long look back to our visit themselves, seeing that whole months frequently elapse without their seeing anyone from the coast even, much less a white man or two from far-off Labuan. August 21st.--Our buffalo had wandered from her moorings during the night, and so we lost some time in finding her. She was brought in at last, however, and we prepared to start on our way. "Beuhan," the headman here, had been very hospitable to us, first in setting aside a good clean house for us, and he also gave our men rice and fruit, as their supplies, like our own, were very small. Indeed, the fellow seemed so pleased to have us at his village, and behaved so well to us, that I felt bound to make him a fair repayment. I found out from "Suong" that "Lapayang" had told him of the musket which Mr. Veitch and myself had given to him, and that "Beuhan" wanted one too. I was glad to have the power of thus easily satisfying him. When I handed the musket to him before all his people and told him always to help the white men who came to him, he was visibly delighted, and looked at the glistening barrel and bright brass-work with rapture. I also gave him a small supply of ammunition. He had heard of my shooting down cocoanuts from the trees, both at Koung and at Kiau, and he desired me to do this at his village. Smith handed me his rifle, and luckily for my reputation, I smashed the particular nut he pointed out to atoms. Here, at this village I took leave of my old friend "Kurow," and gave his little daughter a Chinese looking-glass, which pleased her greatly. Another little girl also from Kiau was with her, and she looked so sorry that she had not one too, although pleased at her friend's good fortune, that I could not but hand her one also, and her dusky face was all sunshine in an instant. These two girls had walked all the way from Kiau yesterday perfectly barefoot over rough ground, rocks, streams, and jungle, carrying heavy loads, while "Kurow" carried only his slender-shafted spear. It is this hard work at an early age which so soon destroys the lithe figures and tiny hands and feet these Dusun children so often possess. "Beuhan" sent two men with us as guides to Sineroup. This was a great gain to us, as they knew the road well, and conducted us by what I may call the "overland route," that is, by the hill-paths, and in this way we avoided three or four of the worst crossings. We found the walking very rough and fatiguing, especially in the close gullies we had now and then to cross. About ten o'clock we reached the village of Bundoo on the opposite hill, and here, while awaiting our men, I sketched the top crags of the great mountain, of which we obtained an excellent view, and also made a sketch of some Dusun tombstones on the little village green. While waiting, a woman brought us two young cocoanuts and put them down before us, so that we might drink, which we were glad to do, as it was very hot to-day. We gave her a looking-glass, which she evidently considered a good price for her fruit. I found these Tampassuk Dusun far more inclined to be hospitable than their brethren of the Tawaran. We passed several tiny hill villages to-day, and some of them had a neat bamboo-fence and a stile at the entrance with notched sticks for steps. Some of the houses are surrounded by luxuriant gardens, each of which contains kaladi, Indian corn, a castor-oil plant (Ricinus) or two, cotton bushes, and in each there is invariably a clump of cocoanut trees, and three or four slender-stemmed betel-nut palms, while here and there old stumps are verdant with the betel pepper, the leaves of which are chewed along with bits of betel-nut, and a few condiments, such as lime--made from coral reef or shells--and gambier. Here and there, too, the red-fruited rose-apple or jambosa was seen. We reached Sineroup about 3.30, and singularly enough have not had a drop of rain all day. "Gantang," the Orang Kaya, was glad to see us, and pointed with pride to the new garments he wore, made from the cloth he had earned by accompanying us to Kiau. August 22nd.--We left Sineroup and its hospitable headman this morning, after having arranged with him for a guide and another buffalo as far as Ghinambaur. We descended the hill, and after crossing the river two or three times, which was easily done now, since no rain had fallen yesterday, we were surprised by meeting a young Labuan man--whom I had formerly employed. He was a handsome young fellow named "Sallia," a relative of poor old Musa, and from him I heard that Mr. Pretyman, accompanied by Mr. Dobree, a Ceylon coffee planter, were following, and that their object was to proceed to "Kina Balu" in search of land suitable for coffee culture. A few minutes later we met them and had luncheon together on the dry stones of an old river course. In answer to Mr. Dobree's inquiries I told him what I had seen of the country, of the large extent either actually under cultivation by the Dusun or lying fallow as jungle, and that virgin soil in large tracts would only be obtainable by felling the primæval forests on the enormous spurs of Kina Balu itself. We parted just as a heavy shower came on, and pursued our way to Ghinambaur, which place we reached about four o'clock, drenched to the skin and covered with mud to our waists, the roads being in a frightful state owing to the rain. We sought our old quarters, and soon made ourselves comfortable for the night. We heard that a court-house was being built here by Mr. Pretyman, but did not see it, and inquiries as to what the "white man" was going to do were numerous, as indeed they had been all along our route. After resting, I could not resist making the accompanying sketch of the great mountain as it loomed up through the cloud strata just before sunset. We were four days' journey from its base, and yet it seemed so very nigh to us in the last hours of sunlight as to appear only a mile or two distant through the sun-lit air of evening. August 23rd.--We started early this morning from Ghinambaur, having a walk of fifteen miles before us over wretched roads ere we arrived at Mr. Pretyman's residence, "Port Alfred," on the Tampassuk. My buffalo was nearly knocked up, and so I left her in charge of the men, and I and Smith, trusting to our knowledge of the way, pushed on ahead. We had a hard day's work a greater part of the way, floundering about in the mud of buffalo tracks, or crossing streams and creeks up to our necks, with just such a suspicion of lurking alligators being in them as made the thing exciting. I stayed at one place to collect palm-seeds, and the roots of a dwarf zingiberaceous plant, bearing pretty little white and lilac flowers. Here and there in the jungle we also saw a large amorphophallus, bearing erect spikes of red berries, and a pale-leaved variety of banana had its leaves beautifully blotched with reddish purple. In one place we had to cross a grassy plain, the mud and water being up to our waist-belts in places, and the tall coarse grasses arched over our heads so that for a mile or more one has to flounder up this grassy sewer, the effluvia from the festering mud and the heat being alike almost unbearable. We at last reached the low sandstone hills and padi fields near the Badjow village, and were glad to know that we were within a mile or two of our destination. Then came another case of floundering through a wet rice field in a drenching shower, up to the knees in unctuous black mud, remarkably warm, too, it felt to the legs and feet. After all our struggles, however, we reached the Residency about four o'clock, dirty, wet, and tired. Here we found M. Peltzer in charge, although looking very pale and ill. We found out that he was suffering from low fever and dysentery, although fortunately not in anything like its worst phases. A bath and clean dry clothes was the first thing, after which we were glad to sit and rest ourselves ere dinner time. We discovered that our friend, M. Peltzer, had formerly studied in the Horto-Agricultural College, founded by the late M. Van Houtte, at Ghent, and that he had come here to make experiments in the culture of tapioca, tobacco, and other kinds of tropical produce. He related to us an account of a journey made into the interior as far as Sineroup, in the course of which he had lost three buffaloes in the streams. Altogether we passed a very pleasant evening, glad to be so near the termination of a long, and at this time of the year, a very critical journey. The accommodation here was luxurious to what we had been accustomed to, and in spite of mosquitoes we slept the sleep of the thoroughly weary. August 24th.--We arose soon after 5 a.m., and calling our followers, bade them prepare our boat for the homeward voyage. We ourselves looked after the welfare of our plants, and packed up our roots and seeds carefully. A party of men were sent to the sandstone hills to procure roots of the white gardenia before alluded to. At 7.50 we obtained a beautiful view of the mountain, the top crags, ridges, and water-falls being very distinct in the clear morning sunlight. I could not resist sitting down on the verandah and sketching the scene. Although my sketch was true as regards outline, nothing but colour could represent anything of the beauty of this scene--it is a subject worthy of Walton's skill and labour. The tints of light are ever changing in the morning's sun, and the cloud strata lie like downy pillows on the bosom of a giant. No wonder the simple Dusun, gazing on this mountain in all the radiance of its early morning glory, has idealised it as the heaven of his race! A small herd of water-buffaloes have come down to the opposite side of the river to drink, and I was surprised to see that most of them had short stumpy tails. On inquiry I am told that the Badjows cut the tails of their riding buffaloes, otherwise they draggle in the mud and dirty water so common here, and then besprinkle the clothing of their masters. The poor beasts must feel their loss sadly in a hot country where mosquitoes and other blood-sucking flies are abundant, but as we cut our sheep's tails short without so good a reason, we must not be the first in this case to throw a stone. We gave all our men a rest this afternoon, which they sadly needed, for several of them were nearly exhausted. About four o'clock we were surprised at the return of Mr. Dobree and Mr. Pretyman, who had proceeded no further than the hill just above Sineroup. The Chinese cook of course received orders to augment his food supply, and we spent a very agreeable evening. Mr. Dobree showed us the skin of a young rhinoceros which he had shot in the mud pool near the Sagaliad river, about twenty miles from Sandakan. The lower horn was three inches in length, the upper one only just growing. Mr. Pretyman had also a small but very interesting collection of large coleoptera caught in the immediate neighbourhood. August 25th.--We finished rigging up our boat this morning, and stowed all our plants and stores on board before breakfast. Four of my men, including "Suong," who had been very useful to me, agreed to stay at this place as policemen under Mr. Pretyman. To oblige him I allowed them to do this. About 1 p.m. we stalled down the river, a much easier thing than pulling the other way. We reached the mouth in about an hour, but could not get over the bar, as there was not a foot of water on the bar; indeed we saw two native fishermen carry their little canoes over. We had to wait until 10 o'clock at night, when we got over and out to sea with a favourable breeze, but we did not reach Labuan until August 30th, since we had contrary winds, and altogether a very rough passage. Thus ended our journey for the second time to "Kina Balu," which occupied in all thirty-one days from Labuan, of which thirteen were occupied in the sea voyage from Labuan to the Tampassuk and back; from Tampassuk to Kiau and back thirteen; and from Kiau to the mountain and back five days. Our last journey, viz., the Tawaran from Gaya and Menkabong, occupied in all twenty-three days, but as we happened to start just at the commencement of the dry season, we avoided the dangers and difficulties of fording rapid streams. In the dry season the Tampassuk route could be accomplished in five days, and the ground is much more level than that along the Tawaran route, which is both hilly and fatiguing, the track being almost impassable for buffaloes. The difference in the time occupied by the two routes is in part accounted for in this way. Thus when I and Mr. Veitch went by the Tawaran we saved four or five days in going by chartering a passage for ourselves by a trading steamer which landed us at Gaya Bay the next morning after leaving Labuan. On our reaching Labuan, poor Smith, who had been ill in the boat for two or three days, had to go to the hospital with a very bad attack of fever, doubtless contracted during our walk from Ghinambaur to the Tampassuk. He fortunately recovered in a week's time, but evidently had felt the effects of a difficult mountain journey. All our friends in Labuan were glad to see us back again, and the mails from home which had arrived during my absence were of the most cheering kind. Notwithstanding our rough passage I found my plants and seeds in good condition, and I am glad to know that the practical results of this journey were more encouraging than I had expected, and many of the plants and seeds obtained ultimately reached Chelsea alive. Having at this time been over a year in Borneo, I had learned a good deal of the language, and had also found much to admire in the Malays and aboriginals, so that I felt in a way loath to leave a land which had been fraught with so many novelties and adventures to me. CHAPTER XV. TROPICAL FRUITS. Tropical fruits: culture of--Natural fruit orchards--The Durian--A macédoine of fruits--The Mangosteen--"Prada Prada"--Mango--The Rambutan or "hairy fruit"--Bread fruit--Jack-fruit, or "Nangka"--"Champada"--Jintawan, or Manoongan fruits (Willughbeia spp.)--Tampoe fruit--Red "Bilimbing"--"Mandaroit"--"Rambeneer"--"Mambangan"--"Luing"-- "Langsat" or "Duku"--"Rambi"--"Mangalin"--"Jambosa," or "Rose-apples"--Melons--Oranges--Pomoloes--Custard apples--Cocoanut--Wild onion fruit--Banana, or "Pisang" fruit. The forests and gardens of Borneo are remarkably rich in native and naturalised kinds of edible fruits, and the forests especially may be considered as the home of the mangosteen, durian, tarippe or trap-fruit, langsat, rambutan, and jintawan, all excellent, indeed unapproachable, in their way, but if one would enjoy them a journey to the East is unfortunately necessary. They are somewhat like our own luscious jargonelle pears or green gage plums, and must in a sense be "eaten off the tree." The mango, one of the finest and most variable of Eastern fruits, has been successfully cultivated in the West Indian Islands, St. Michael's, and Madeira, and has fruited out-of-doors at Lisbon, but those we have named above have hitherto resisted culture outside their own restricted habitats, if we except the solitary instance in which the mangosteen fruited in one of the hothouses at Sion House some years ago, and the trees introduced to the island of Ceylon, which have succeeded fairly well. Another extremely useful and variable fruit, the banana, is quite commonly ripened in our gardens, and with the pine-apple these may be accounted the only tropical fruits which lend themselves to anything approaching a regular system of successful culture in our hothouses at home. Our ordinary cultivated fruits are naturally found in temperate or inter-tropical countries--Europe or the cooler parts of Asia principally; and of all those cultivated in the open air of Southern Europe, such as the vine, fig, and orange, the latter is the only one which can be induced to prosper in the tropical lowlands of the far East, where its evergreen character enables it to hold its own while its deciduous neighbours seem to fail through over-excitement, the loss of their customary winter's sleep. On the other hand the pine-apple of South America, the mango of India, and the delicious little Chinese or mandarin orange, here luxuriate in the open air, the mango yielding two crops in twelve months, while fruit of the others may be obtained all the year round. In some favoured districts in Malaya the forests almost become orchards on a large scale, so plentifully are they stocked with durian, baloona, mambangan, varieties of tampoe, luing, and other native fruits, in addition to those already named; and in many places the pine-apple is so abundantly naturalised as an escape from cultivation that one might almost be led to imagine it indigenous did we not know that, together with the white guava, the papaw, and cashew-nut--a trio forming the "weeds" among tropical fruits--it is a native of the western tropics. So abundant are the crops in some seasons that one cannot help regretting their perishable nature, by reason of which their shipment to Europe in a fresh state is prevented; and as to their preservation in the form of candied confections or "jam" no one seems to have taken up the matter. Fancy a conserve of snowy mangosteen pulp, preserved mangoes, candied rambutan, or banana marmalade. The late Dr. Lindley once said, in his usual incisive way, that "most tropical fruits were edible," but that "very few were worth eating;" but then the probability is he had never tasted a mango or a mangosteen, a tarippe fruit, or the deliciously rich apricot-like pulp which surrounds the seeds of the caoutchouc-yielding willughbeias, and certainly not a durian. The mangoes, oranges, bananas, pomoloes, and pine-apples are all cultivated fruits in the East, just as are our best gooseberries, strawberries, apples, pears, and grapes at home; but on the other hand we have no wild fruits which can in any way be compared with the durian, jintawan, langsat, trap, tampoe, mangosteen, and rambutan, all of which are more truly wild in the Malay islands than are the so-called wild cherries, gooseberries, currants, and raspberries of our woods. It is to the tropics one must go for a drink of fresh cocoanut milk--a taste of the fascinating durian, for a luscious mango, or the delicious mangosteen; and while in the matter of flowers our cultivators at home certainly have the advantage, in the case of fruits this much can scarcely be said. The regal durian (Durio zibethinus), like the finest of nectarines or melting pears, must be eaten fresh and just at one particular point of ripeness, and then it is, as many think, a fruit fit for a king. So highly is this vegetable-custard valued that as much as a dollar each is not unfrequently paid for fine specimens of the first fruits of the durian crop brought into the Eastern markets. It is a universal favourite both with Malays and Chinese, but the opinions of Europeans vary as to the merits of this "delectable epitome of all that is perfect in fruit food." It is a paradox, "the best of fruits with the worst of characters," and, as the Malays say, you may enjoy the durian, but you should never speak of it outside your own dwelling. Its odour--one scarcely feels justified in using the word "perfume"--is so potent, so vague, but withal so insinuating, that it can scarcely be tolerated inside the house. Indeed Nature here seems to have gone a little aside to disgust us with a fruit which is perhaps of all others the most fascinating to the palate, when once one has "broken the ice," as represented by the foul odour at first presented to that most critical of all organs of sense, the nose. As a matter of course, it is never brought to table in the usual way, and yet the chances are that whoever is lucky enough to taste a good fruit of it to begin with, soon develops into a surreptitious durian eater; just as a jungle tiger becomes a "man-eater" after its first taste of human blood. There is scarcely any limit to durian eating if you once begin it; it grows on one like opium smoking, or other acquired tastes; but on the other hand, the very suggestion of eating such an "unchaste fruit" is to many as intolerable as the thoughts alone of supping off cheese and spring onions, washed down with "stout and mild," followed by a whiff from a short "dudeen" by way of dessert, and yet, while these incongruities are consumed at home with enjoyment, one must not be too hard on those abroad who relish the fragrant durian. About the middle or end of July durian fruit are very common in Singapore, and their spiny skins lie about the streets in all directions. As you pass along you become aware of a peculiar odour all around you--an odour like that of a putrid sewer when half suppressed by holding a perfumed handkerchief to the nose--a blending of a good deal that is nasty with a soupçon of something rather sweet and nice. On opening a fruit for yourself, however, you find that the perfume, like that of the musk plant, ceases to be evident after you have once had a fair whiff at it at close quarters. The flavour of the straw-coloured, custard-like pulp which surrounds the four or five rows of large chestnut-like seeds is perfectly unique: to taste it, as Wallace tells us, is "a new sensation, worth a journey to the East to experience;" but much depends on a good fruit being obtained when perfectly, not over ripe. You then find the pulp sweet, rich, and satisfying; it is indeed a new sensation, but no two persons can agree as to the flavour--no two descriptions of it are alike. Its subtle action upon the palate--and perhaps this best explains the unceasing popularity it enjoys--is like the music of a well-played violin on the ear, rich, soothing, sweet, piquant. The flavour of durian is satisfying, but it never cloys; the richness seems counteracted by a delicate acidity, the want of grape-like juiciness is supplied by the moist creamy softness of the pulp as it melts away ice-like on your tongue. It is said that the best of whisky is that made by blending several good kinds together, and Nature seems to have blended four or five good flavours together when she made the durian. "A macédoine of fruits," says a modern author, "when well made and judiciously flavoured, is a delicious sweetmeat. The grape, the peach, the apricot, and the pine, meet in welcome harmony; the pear, the apple, and the cherry, and their friendly companionship, and all these opposing elements of flavour are blended with a soft and soothing syrup." In a word, the durian is a natural macédoine--one of Dame Nature's "made dishes"--and if it be possible for you to imagine the flavour of a combination of corn flour and rotten cheese, nectarines, crushed filberts, a dash of pine-apple, a spoonful of old dry sherry, thick cream, apricot-pulp, and a soupçon of garlic, all reduced to the consistency of a rich custard, you have a glimmering idea of the durian, but, as before pointed out, the odour is almost unmentionable--perfectly indescribable, except it be as "the fruit with the fragrant stink!" The fruit itself is in size as large as a Cadiz melon, and the leathery skin is protected by sharp broad-based spines very similar to those of a horse chestnut. The name durian, in fact, is derived from these--the word duri in Malay meaning a spine or thorn. There are many varieties in the Bornean woods, some but little larger than horse chestnut fruits, and having only two seeds; others larger, but with stiff orange-red pulp, not at all nice to eat, however hungry you may be; and even the large kinds, with creamy pulp and many seeds, vary very much in flavour. The trees are monarchs of the forest, as a rule varying from seventy to one hundred and fifty feet, or even more, in height, with tall straight boles and spreading tops, and the foliage is oblong acuminate, dark green above, paler and covered with rufous stellate hairs or scales below. The fruits of the finer varieties fall when ripe, and accidents sometimes happen. I saw a native who had the flesh torn from his shoulder by a blow from one of these armed fruits, and saw several narrow escapes, but personally I gave the trees a wide berth at fruiting time. Some varieties, especially the "durianburong," or wild-bird durians, do not shed the fruits, which hang on the branches until the valves open, when the seeds fall to the ground, or are eaten by hornbills and other large fruit-eating birds and monkeys. I saw some magnificent specimens of durian trees in the Bornean forests north of the capital, and also in other Malayan islands, where the forests had been cleared for cultivation, and these trees left standing for the sake of their produce. Their clusters of large white flowers are produced about April, and form a great attraction to an enormous species of semi-diurnal bat, a kind which is said to be one of the greatest pests of Eastern fruit-groves. It is from cultivated trees that the finest of fruits are obtained; and, without exception, the best fruits I ever saw or tasted were from a tree in the grounds of Government House, Labuan. It does well in Sumatra, Java, Celebes, and the Spice Islands, and even as far north as Mindanao. Forests of it exist on the Malay peninsula, and very fine fruit is brought to Singapore from Siam about July or August. On the coast of the Bay of Bengal it grows as far north as Tenasserim, in lat. 14° N., but it does not succeed well in India, and cannot be grown in the West Indies. In Sumatra groves of this tree exist near the Palembang River, and in the primæval forests there are specimens fully 150 feet in height, the fruits being in perfection about September and October; but two crops are produced each year, and throughout the Archipelago one finds its seasons of ripening to be very various. There are many different varieties, doubtless the result of promiscuous seeding, or, perchance, cross-fertilisation, and one variety actually produces flowers and fruit on its exposed roots. Of all Eastern fruits the mangosteen is perhaps the general favourite with Europeans, and of all fruits it is one of the most delicious and refreshing. It flourishes in nearly all the islands from the south coast of Java to Mindanao, the most southern of the Philippine group, and on the mainland it flourishes as far as Bangkok, and in the interior to 16° N., but on the coast of the Bay of Bengal only to 14° N. Attempts to cultivate it in India have failed, and in Ceylon success is only partial. In the West Indies all attempts to grow it have proved abortive. In Borneo trees are not uncommon in the forests, but the fruits generally are below the average size, the divisions within are fewer--rarely more than four--and each segment of pulp contains a fully developed seed. When cultivated in richly-manured gardens or orchards, however, as in Penang or Singapore, not only are the fruits larger and the carpellary divisions more numerous, but rarely more than one perfect seed is found in each fruit, the remaining segments consisting of edible pulp only. Similar effects may be observed in the case of the rambi and duku, or langsat fruits, and the best of cultivated mangoes are remarkable for their thin and comparatively small stones, while the edible part on the other hand is much augmented. Under cultivation the mangosteen forms a low round or conical-headed tree, its dark leathery evergreen foliage reminding one of that of the Portugal laurel, only that it is of a bolder character. The waxy-petaled flowers are borne near the extremities of the branches, and are succeeded by round fruits, which, when fully ripe are as large as a medium-sized orange. On cutting the leathery dark purple rind transversely about the middle of the fruit, it is found to be of a port-wine colour in section, and encloses from three to six segments of snow-white pulp, cool and refreshing to the taste, and with a flavour which is something like that of the finest nectarine, but with a dash of strawberry and pine-apple added. It is one of the very few tropical fruits of which even delicate invalids may eat with advantage; and the dried rind, when infused in boiling-water and drank as tea, forms an astringent which has been proved serviceable in dysentery after all other medicines had failed. It is the general native remedy for this disease throughout the Malay Islands, and the dried skins strung on strips of rattan are commonly met with in the bazaars. When exploring near the capital city of Brunei in North West Borneo I frequently came across a species of garcinia--sometimes in flower, sometimes in fruit--which my native followers called "Prada Prada," the duplication of particular names being usual in Borneo, for the sake of emphasis, as also among various native tribes in South America and elsewhere. The foliage and flowers are somewhat like those of the mangosteen proper, the fruit, however, is curiously shaped like a boy's "top," and of a bright red colour, changing to purplish black when fully ripe. The segments of edible white pulp are usually eight in number--four containing fully developed seeds, and four are abortive or seedless--the flavour being similar to that of the mangosteen proper, but more acidulous. Of the luscious mango, Rumphius tells us that it was introduced by the Dutch from the Moluccas to Java in 1655, but it grows in India, and as the Malay name and that of the Javanese as applied to this fruit are evident corruptions of that in the Sanskrit tongue, Mr. Crawfurd thinks that it was brought to the Archipelago from the Continent, and that it should not be considered as indigenous. Be this as it may there is no doubt that the mango has long been introduced to the Malay Islands, in many of which it is now perfectly naturalised, and a fruit exactly like the mango in structure is often found in the Bornean woods. It has the mango flavour of the most ultra tow and turpentine type, but its juice is very grateful during hot weather, as I can testify by experience. The cultivated mango forms a round-headed evergreen tree, rarely over fifty feet in height, and generally not much more than half that size. The old leaves are of a deep green colour, but the young growth is often of a bright red or crimson tint. The dense clusters of pea-green flowers are followed by lax-drooping clusters of kidney-shaped fruits which, when fully developed, vary from two or three to as much as six inches in length, and nearly half that in diameter in the broadest part. These fruits consist of a tough green skin and a coat of yellow pulp surrounding an oblong fibre-coated stone, to which the flesh adheres. In the Sulu isles the mango is abundantly naturalised, some of the trees being of large size. In Indian gardens the best kinds are perpetuated and increased by grafting, and this is also the case in Manilla, where the best varieties are equal, if not superior, to those of Bombay, the excellence of which is well nigh proverbial throughout the East. This tree is of robust constitution and regularly produces two crops every year, although at times the crops are very scanty, owing to heavy rains during the flowering season. It is one of the Eastern fruits the culture of which is moderately successful in the gardens of the West--notably in Jamaica, and very fair samples of this fruit from the West Indies now and then make their appearance in Covent Garden from the Azores. The mango, like its more fastidious neighbour the durian, is one of Nature's voluptuous productions, of which we have no representative in our gardens, although, so far us the mango is concerned, it might be cultivated successfully in our hothouses with but little more trouble and expense than that which attends the culture of pine-apples or bananas. There are varieties which fruit freely when only five or six feet high, and when only three or four years old; the greatest difficulty in the matter would be to secure the right sorts, which possibly might be had from Madeira, or even St. Michael's, where fair crops are obtained when the seasons are propitious, and even in Europe proper fruits have been produced in the open air. This was in 1874 at Necessidades, near Lisbon, the residence of the King of Portugal, the tree--a dwarf one--bearing nine fruits about the size of ducks' eggs. Of varieties there is literally no end, a result doubtless brought about by indiscriminate propagation from seed. Some are small with tough skins, large stones, and fibrous pulp, with a strong turpentine-like flavour. Others are large, with thin stones, the skin being tender and the thick pulp quite soft, like that of a real Beurré pear, the flavour being most luscious and delicate, without a trace of the turpentine-and-tow-like combination so marked in the case of inferior kinds. The flavours of the different fine varieties are most varied, much more so than in the case of our best pears, and two or three good mangoes before breakfast form a treat sure to be appreciated by a lover of good fruit, and much as I appreciate a good durian, the mango seems to me a far more delicious and refreshing fruit for general consumption under a hot sun. The rambutan is a common fruit in Singapore, and is the produce of a pinnate-leaved tree, thirty to fifty feet in height, the hairy fruits being borne in clusters near the extremities of the branches. On the husk being removed the edible pulp is seen surrounding the solitary seed, and is of a white jelly-like consistency, with a brisk and refreshing sub-acid flavour. There are several varieties. The common one has a red outer husk, but there are yellow and purple skinned varieties of excellent flavour. The Malay name, "boi rambutan," or hairy fruit, refers to the soft, thick hairs on the outer husk. Two other species grown in China afford fruits of a similar character, which, dried, are sometimes met with in this country under the name of "litchis." The fruit is common in gardens or orchards throughout the Malay islands, and is quite wild in Borneo. In Batavia it ripens in February and March, and is common in the streets of Singapore during July and August. In the forests of North-West Borneo it ripens in September, large basketsful of it being collected by the natives and brought in along with tampoe fruit, and occasionally mangosteen and fine durian. A basketful of this fruit at first sight reminds one of strawberries, it being singularly like them in size and colour. The bread-fruit tree is frequently met with, but the fruit is not so much used by the Malays as it is by the natives of the South Sea Islands. Another member of the same group, the "nangka," or Jack-fruit, is much more generally grown, and produces immense fruits, varying from ten to seventy-five pounds weight. Like the bread-fruit, it has a rough netted coating, the portion eaten being the golden pulp which surrounds the seeds. A smaller fruited, and altogether more delicate flavoured species, affords the "champada," and the habit of the tree is much like the Jack-fruit, but the "champada" may be recognised by its leaves being hairy below, those of the Jack-fruits being smooth and glossy on both surfaces. This kind is liked both by Malays and Europeans. The "tarippe," or "trap," is another allied fruit borne by a round-headed tree, having entire leaves much larger than the last, and hispid on both surfaces. They are also of a pale, rusty-green tint, and the fruits are borne near the extremities of the spreading branches, as in the bread-fruit, and not produced from the main branches or the bole of the tree, as in the case of the Jack-fruits and "champada." This is the most palatable of all the bread-fruits, so far as my own experience goes, the pulp which surrounds the seeds being of a milk-white colour, and very soft and juicy. The husk consists of closely packed hispid spikes, pressed closely together, and amalgamated at the base around the pulp-coated seeds. In North-West Borneo this fruit is in perfection during August and September, and it is particularly abundant around the Dusun villages near Kina Balu. The leathery coated seeds of all these species of bread-fruits are roasted and eaten by the natives in much the same way as are chestnuts here at home. All the species have india-rubber yielding tendencies, and their inner bark is tough and useful for various purposes. The "jintawan," or "manoongan" fruit, of which there are three kinds, is about the size of an orange, and very similar in colour, each containing from eight to twelve pulp-covered seeds. The "tampoe," or "tampui," is another very common jungle fruit, of which but little appears to be known. There are three varieties--"tampoe shelou," "tampoe putih," and "tampoe baraja." The two first named differ in the one having yellow pulp and the other white. The last is a smaller fruit, having four internal divisions instead of six, and the pulp is of a bright chestnut colour. The part eaten is the pulp surrounding the seeds, which is agreeably sub-acid and very refreshing, the pavia-like husks, and the seed themselves, being discarded. The tree is fifty or sixty feet in height, with dark green poplar-like leaves, and the fruits hang two or three together in lax clusters, the stalks being produced from the older branches. This fruit is eaten in large quantities by the natives; and the pulp mixed with rice and water, and afterwards fermented, affords them an intoxicating drink but little inferior to the "toddy" prepared from the cocoanut palm. A fruit closely resembling the common "bilimbing" is found in the Lawas district, and is called "tampui bilimbing" by the natives. It is of a bright scarlet colour; and according to the native account it has large entire leaves, the fruits being borne on short few-flowered peduncles, which proceed from the main branches of the tree. The white pulp which surrounds the solitary seed is acidulous and pleasant. Another jungle fruit, called "mandaroit" by the Kadyans, resembles a small "rambutan," but the leathery husk is quite smooth. It may possibly be produced by a species of niphelium, and is very sweet and agreeable when perfectly ripe, the fruits being kidney-shaped, and but little larger than a blackbird's egg. "Rambeneer," a still smaller, pale yellowish-green fruit, also has sweet flesh around a stone; but in this case the husk is mango-like, having a thin and tender skin, which may be eaten with the pulp. The fruit known to the natives as "mamhangan" is as large as an ostrich's egg, having a rough, brown skin, and when ripe the yellow flesh which surrounds a mango-like stone is rather agreeable as a juicy sub-acid accompaniment to a dish of plain boiled rice. The "luing" is another edible fruit, but rarely seen even in its native woods. It is yellow, with brown markings, and rarely exceeds a pigeon's egg in size. After the thick, leathery husk is removed, one finds a delicate white sub-acid pulp surrounding a small stone. It is rather viscid, with a slight flavour of turpentine. The albumen of the seed is similar to that of a nutmeg. After the durian, one of the most esteemed of native fruits is, undoubtedly, the "langsat," which is of a pale yellow or straw-colour, borne in short clusters of four or five together, on a somewhat fastigiate pinnate-leaved tree. The individual fruits are as large as pigeon's eggs, the part eaten being the four or five segments of white gelatinous pulp within a tough, leathery husk. Of these rarely more than one contains a solitary seed, which, if tasted by accident, is found to be remarkably bitter. The seedless segments are always sweeter and more palatable than the others--indeed, this is the case generally, as exemplified in the mangosteen and rambi. In Singapore this fruit is known under the name of "duku." The "rambi," when plucked from the stalk, is singularly like the langsat in shape, colour, and flavour. The tree, however, is more dwarf, having large entire leaves, and the fruits are borne in ropes of ten or fifteen together, on long drooping stalks. The covering of the fruit is straw-coloured, and tough like that of the langsat, but there are only three segments of pulp in each. The best I ever tasted came from the garden of the British Consulate at Brunei, but I think the "langsat" is preferable in point of flavour. The latter is very commonly seen in groves near the villages of the inland tribes; the "rambi," on the other hand, is much less abundant, and I never met with it except in European gardens. The "mangalin" of the Kadyans is a fruit very similar in general structure to the "jintawan," and consists of ten or twelve pulp-covered seeds enclosed in an orange-like fleshy covering. The flavour is sweet, with a sub-acid after-taste. The fruits of two kinds of jambosa, or rose-apples, are met with, but like the papaw, cashew-nut, and the apple-fruited guava, they are not esteemed of much account in a country so rich in really delicious kinds. The sweet melons grown in Borneo are very poor indeed, but good water-melons may now and then be obtained, and are cool and refreshing in such a hot climate. All the members of the orange family do well, especially the delicious little lime, which is perfectly naturalised in many places, being with the dwarf bamboo one of the plants most commonly used for hedges. No cooling drink can possibly surpass that formed by mixing the juice of one of these deliciously perfumed limes in a tumbler of water with a little sugar, and as they keep well they are most valuable to the traveller in hot countries. Common oranges may be procured all the year round from gardens, as also may the small fruited "mandarin" variety, which is a near approach to the tangierine orange, now and then to be had in Covent Garden. It is rather a surprise to find that the oranges cultivated in the tropics have grass-green skins when perfectly ripe, the vivid "orange" fruit so familiar at home being there almost as great a rarity as a grass-green specimen to us in England. Of all the orange tribe in the East, however, none can compare with the great-fruited pomolo, which under careful cultivation here attains to a state of perfection elsewhere unknown. The pomoloes, or shaddocks, brought to Covent Garden from the West Indian Islands and the Azores, are flavourless as a turnip when compared with the pomoloes of Bangkok or Labuan, or even with those of Northern China or Singapore. There are many varieties, differing much in aroma and flavour, but all are referable to the lemon-fleshed or pink-fleshed types; it is extremely difficult, however, to say which type affords the best variety. A well-grown pomolo is nearly as large as a child's head, and unless its segments be very carefully divided when serving, the copious grape-like juice which escapes will almost swamp any ordinary dessert-dish, and the best sorts have quite a muscatelle-like flavour; and in addition to its other good qualities it may, like the orange, be kept for a considerable time without injury--so long, indeed, that pomoloes are frequently brought home to England from the Chinese ports in excellent condition. Two sorts of custard apples are commonly met with in Eastern gardens, but neither these nor the apricot-like pulp of the ubiquitous papaw are much esteemed where far better fruits are plentiful. The same remark applies to the "santoel" fruit, which externally resembles a wizened yellow-fleshed American peach, but it contains four stones surrounded by white sub-acid granular pulp, which clings to the stone as in mangosteen or rambutan. The tamarind is naturalised near villages and houses in many of the Eastern islands, its acid pulp being used in cookery, and by pouring boiling water over the pulp, and adding a squeeze of lime juice and a little sugar, a most refreshing fever-drink may be made. Of palms the cocoanut is most plentiful, and of course the most generally useful. Its top, or heart, may be used as a delicious vegetable equal to asparagus, and the scraped albumen yields the milk so essential to blend or soften a well-made curry. The colourless water in the fresh young nuts is peculiarly valuable and grateful as a beverage, preferable where drinking water is in any way questionable; cocoa-nut oil being, moreover, one of the most valuable of Eastern palm products. The fruit of the "pinang," or betel-nut palm is as essential to the Malay races as tobacco to our own, and even the fruit of the nipa, or "thatch" palm may be eaten. The astringent pulp which surrounds the seeds of several species of "rattan" palms is occasionally eaten for medicinal purposes. Perhaps one of the most singular of all wild fruits, however, is the "Bawang utan," or wild onion fruit, which is not unlike a walnut in general appearance, but which is impregnated with such a decided alliaceous principle that a small portion of it grated forms an excellent substitute for the real esculent itself. Scientifically it is known as Scorodoprasum borneense. The foliage and branches of this tree when broken or bruised give off a strong alliaceous odour. Last on my list, but by no means least amongst the tropical fruits of Eastern gardens comes the "pisang," or banana, which here, as elsewhere wherever it is cultivated, is represented by many varieties, which differ in size of fruit, flavour, and other particulars. One of the most common varieties met with in the bazaars is "pisang amas," or golden banana, the individual fruits of which are small, but of a bright golden colour and of excellent flavour. One of the most esteemed of all is "pisang rajah," or king of bananas, a larger fruit, also of a deep golden colour, the flavour being very luscious. "Pisang hijau," the green banana, is slender and angular, but the straw-coloured pulp is of a most exquisite flavour, and it is quite a favourite in Singapore, where the "rajah" variety is comparatively scarce. "Pisang kling" is a pale yellow kind, bearing large smooth fruits, and for eating with cheese this is one of the best, being less sweet than those just named. A large horned variety of banana is common in Borneo, called of the natives "pisang tandock," the individual fruits being a foot long and two inches in diameter. The outer skin is green, changing to yellow when fully ripe, and this fruit is liked by those who do not relish the sweeter kinds. These fruits are largely eaten by natives, and they may be cooked in a variety of ways. Banana fritters is a common Eastern dish, and stewed bananas in syrup are accounted delicious by lovers of sweet things, and pisang kling is really a nice substitute for bread when eaten with cheese. CHAPTER XVI. NOTES ON TROPICAL TRAVEL. Hints on travel--Food supplies--Bathing--Medicines--Modes of travelling--Shelter--Resting-places--Barter--Articles for exchange--Arms in a wild land--Products of the island--Prospects of Borneo. The traveller who finds himself for the first time in a wild tropical country devoid of roads, railways, horses, bridges, hotels, and Europeans, may be excused if he feels a little anxious when called upon to make an expedition which will require several weeks to accomplish on foot, and during which time nearly all necessaries must be carried by the party en route. A party of say twenty natives will require a clear head to manage it rightly, and it is only by maintaining a system that the thing can be conveniently done. The main points to be considered may be tabulated thus:-- Health. Bathing. Boating. Food. Packing. Barter. Clothing. Foraging. Shelter. Cooking. Walking. Fire-lighting. Medicines. Riding. Arms. Health is best preserved by regular habits, taking care to avoid chills by wearing flannel next to the skin, and great care should be taken to put on dry clothes the first thing after a halt is made for the night. One may be drenched to the skin in the tropics without any harm ensuing if this precaution is taken. Belts of soft flannel worn around the stomach are very comfortable, and are highly recommended by many medical men. All your clothing should be light, and if of flannel so much the better. A flannel shirt and tweed trowsers secured by a belt and a light pith helmet, woollen socks, and a light pair of English walking boots cannot be improved upon as a travelling costume. A small knapsack or bag should be carried containing a clean dry jersey, shirts, socks, sarong, and light shoes; you are then independent of your baggage-bearers, who will often linger miles behind yourself and guides. When a fire is made at night, have all your clothes dried so as to be ready for the following evening. To preserve them from wet in crossing rivers, etc., fold them into as small a compass as possible, and envelope them tightly in waterproof cloth. The old coverings as removed from bales of Manchester goods are very useful for this purpose. A couple of pairs of flannel pajamas may be taken for sleeping in. Three changes of travelling clothes will be sufficient, this gives one suit on, one being washed, and one suit dry and clean. For bedding take a waterproof sheet, a drab rug, and a red blanket. Light brushwood or palm leaves will make a good substitute for a mattress. If shelter is not obtainable and the ground is wet, a light net-hammock becomes useful, a roof to it being readily made with the waterproof sheet. Take soap and a comb. Food is of the utmost importance. Rice, biscuits, and oatmeal may form the staple, and tinned soups, Liebig's extract of meat, and dried fish may be added. Chocolate and milk in sealed tins is convenient and refreshing. Tea, coffee, sugar, and salt must be packed in well-corked bottles to keep them dry and free from ants, etc. A bottle of Yorkshire relish or Worcester sauce, and a tin or two of bloater paste are nice relishes for soups. Fowls, eggs, fruit, and sometimes freshly-caught fish may often be purchased en route. A supply of fresh limes is easily carried, and no better cooling and refreshing drink can be made than that formed by squeezing a lime in a glass and adding water and sugar. Be very careful of the water drunk in travelling, and use a pocket-filter whenever it is in anyway doubtful. I always drank cocoanut water when procurable, as being pure and harmless, and with a dash of brandy it is extremely refreshing. As to the quantity of food required, two pounds of rice is ample for a man's daily supply, and less will suffice at times, as natives are generally good foragers. It is generally best, however, to pay less wages, and agree to find the men rice, otherwise they will take only a small quantity, and when that is gone much time will be lost, as they have an excuse for foraging. A few pounds of that universal vegetable, the onion or garlic, should be taken for soup. Jam in tins is also very handy, and a treat to eat with rice for a change. Each man of the party should receive his daily supply of rice every morning, and in order to facilitate progress, all cooking for the first morning's meal may be done overnight. Cooking should be well understood by all who propose to "rough it" in a wild land, and it may be defined as the art of preparing food so that it is--1, nutritious; 2, tasty; 3, nice to the eye. Two cook-pots are necessary--one large enough to boil a fowl when cut up, and the other for rice. A frying-pan and a few pounds of flour render you independent of the baker, and with oatmeal oat-cakes may be indulged in. Put a few currants in your boiled rice now and then for a change. Most Madras, and some Chinese "boys" are good hands at a curry, and if you give them a share of it when made they are encouraged to excel. A favourite jungle-dish of my own was a fowl cut up and boiled with two onions, a handful of rice, salt and pepper, and thin slices of gourds, sweet potatoes or other vegetables, and three or four small chilies; when it was nearly done, a small tin of soup--julienne or ox-tail--was added. Oatmeal forms a nice change from boiled rice, and biscuits are a treat, as also are sweet potatoes nicely boiled, or corn cobs, yams, or kaladi roasted in the embers. Tinned soups are much improved by having fresh vegetables boiled in them, such as palm cabbages, sweet potatoes, or cucumbers. Eggs may be eaten boiled, poached, or beaten up in a cup of tea or coffee, in which case the yelk only should be used. A nutritious drink is made by beating up the yelk of a fresh egg with a squeeze of lime, a little sugar, whisky, or gin and water. If a dash of Angostura bitters be added, so much the better. Native cook-pots may always be borrowed, or on occasion biscuit or soup-tins form good substitutes. If pressed for supplies, corn cobs or "mealies" form a good substitute for bread, and may be varied now and then with bananas or sweet potatoes. Bananas may be eaten with cheese. The nebong (Oncosperma) palm, generally common beside the Malay rivers, affords a tender "cabbage," with a delicate asparagus-like flavour. Pigeons are generally plentiful, and in extreme cases even monkeys may be "potted." On boating expeditions a baited hook should always be towed astern. Most natives understand the style of fishing, and best bait to use. Packing is important. Rice should be made up into small parcels of 10 lb. each, and wrapped in waterproof sheeting, as if it gets wet it soon turns sour, unless spread out in the sun to dry. Oatmeal should be baked in an oven, and then packed in dry bottles or tins. Biscuits should be bought in 2 lb. tins. All clothes, books, and other damageable articles should be enveloped in waterproof sheeting. In giving the stores to the carriers, put down the man's name and the stores he carries in a book, so that they may be readily found when wanted. Aneroids, thermometers, &c., should be fitted into japanned tin cases, which may be covered with leather. If tightly fitted into leather cases, they are liable to become damaged, as the leather contracts on becoming wet. Bathing.--Always bathe in the morning. Care must be taken not to frequent alligator-infested streams. Whenever there is any doubt, never enter a stream, but bale up the water and pour it over the body. Nearly all Eastern people bath in this way, and one is not so liable to become inordinately chilled as by plunging into a large body of cold water. Never bathe at night when tired or feverish. At such times a towel-bath is sufficient if the thing is really needful. Dip a towel in water, and wring it partly dry, and then rub the body briskly and quickly all over. The dipping and wringing process may be repeated as desired, then finish with a clean dry towel. A good way of securing a refreshing bath where water is a long way off, or limited in quantity, is to send for some in a common wine or spirit bottle, in which it is handy for pouring over one's head and body, and a dry towel completes the work. When in vigorous health, a good douche-bath in a cool hill or mountain stream is a great treat in a hot land, but it must be remembered that to bathe in this way when exhausted or feverish is in the highest degree suicidal. Medicines.--In nearly all towns and colonies good medical advice is obtainable, and, as a rule, preferable to self-help. On long inland journeys, however, one must frequently trust to one's own resources, and to secure a supply of medicines must be one of the traveller's first cares. The three most useful of all medicines for travellers, prospectors, hunters, or emigrants, are Cockle's pills, Collis Brown's chlorodyne, and Howard's sulphate of quinine. These and a bottle of brandy must always be taken, together with a roll of sticking-plaster, needles, silk thread, and a few long bandages. Cold compresses are easily made of towels, and a bottle of mustard may be useful for poultices on occasion. A small bottle of carbolic acid is useful for mixing with oil as a dressing for mosquito bites, scratches, or other flesh-wounds. One part of acid to fifteen or twenty parts of oil is a good proportion for ordinary use. All travellers, before leaving the beaten track of civilisation, should acquire some knowledge of bone-setting. The whole thing is easy, but nothing short of actual demonstrations can teach the elements of the art. A broken limb in the forest a month's journey from professional aid is a serious thing, and must always be regarded as a possibility. The only thing to be done is to reach some shelter where a stay can be made, and then to get the limb into position as near as possible like its uninjured fellow, and of the same length. This question of length is most important--in the leg especially--or a limping gait is sure to follow after the bones have united. Once in the right position, the thing is to secure it with a splint and bandages. A heap of sand makes a capital cushion for the limb, and also helps to hold it in position. Of course professional aid must be had if possible, and all whose business calls them far from it should be wise enough to gain the knowledge requisite to preserve life and limb as far as is possible without professional skill. Modes of Travelling.--The only sure method of progression in a wild land is on foot; now and then ponies or buffaloes are obtainable, and along the coast, or where there are rivers, journeys may be wholly or partially made in native boats. In walking journeys, the first care is boots. These, for hot climates, should be strong, and of English make, but light. Woollen socks are softer and better suited to tender feet than cotton ones. Native guides should be obtained from some one in authority, and passports are desirable, if not actually essential. Buffaloes are often useful for riding, carrying heavy baggage and rice, and for crossing rivers. For the latter service two or three good water-buffaloes, accustomed as they are to the country and fords, are invaluable. Get a good buffalo-driver. In crossing rapid fords, keep the buffalo's head to the current, and take him well up stream, so as to allow for the force of the current, or you will find yourself below the ford, and perhaps in deep water, ere the opposite bank is reached. Ponies are best for riding (a saddle should be taken out from Europe), but are not as a rule so useful for river crossing as water-buffaloes. Nearly all coast natives are good sailors, and accustomed to make long boat journeys. Every traveller, however, should understand how to sail a boat for himself. A compass is useful for bearings either in boats or for forest travel, where it is often difficult to see the sun. Shelter.--A light tent of oiled calico is often useful, as timbers for it can be cut almost anywhere en route. A waterproof sheet will protect you from ground-damp if spread on brush-fern or palm-leaves. In the Malay islands the natives are very clever at constructing huts or tabernacles of palm-leaves, &c., but wherever there are native houses one is always welcome to the large public room, firewood, and water. Field-huts, overhanging rocks, and caves, have sometimes to be taken advantage of. I have slept very comfortably many nights in the open forest in a light net hammock swung between two trees, with a waterproof sheet put roof-fashion as a protection from the rain. It is often difficult to light a fire. I used to carry a few dry sticks, and when a fire had to be lighted, I whittled these into shavings with my knife. These light readily as a rule. A small bottle of spirits of wine may be carried, as paper soaked in it will set fire to almost anything. I have seen the Borneans wet paper with cocoanut-oil, or mix whittled shavings with melted beeswax in order to get a fire. If the matches are damp, tinder may be made by blowing a piece of rag or paper out of a gun. A small spirit-lamp cooking apparatus, if well and strongly made, is a great convenience to a traveller, enabling him to get his coffee, chocolate, or a refreshing cup of tea while the men are rigging up shelter, or lighting a camp-fire. Barter.--There are not many countries wherein it is now necessary to carry goods for barter. In the interior of the Malay islands, and in the far interior or mountainous districts of other countries, however, it still happens that money is useless. White or grey shirting and chopper blades are generally acceptable throughout the interior of Borneo and the Sulu islands. Black and red cloth, looking-glasses and knives, are also valued; needles and thread are currency for small trifles inland in nearly all wild lands. Muskets and ammunition are also often highly prized. The best goods for barter with natives, and all information, may generally be obtained from the bazaars in the coast towns. Whatever you take let it be good of its kind, and always remember that necessaries are more valued than beads and other ornaments. Tobacco is often highly valued, even by people who cultivate their own, as in Sulu. The following list of articles would be useful in Borneo or Sulu Archipelago:-- 40 large pocket knives. 50 packets large sewing needles. 100 reels cotton for same. 72 common Chinese-box looking-glasses. 10 pieces grey shirting. 2   ,,   Turkey red cloth. 10   ,,   black cloth. 10 cattys thick brass wire, one-eighth inch. 24 fancy battack head-cloths. 20 tins gunpowder. 10 boxes caps for Tower muskets. 12 chopper blades. All goods for barter should be so packed that any article may be brought out for examination without exposing the remainder. The more goods the natives perceive you to have the higher will they value their own edibles or services. Beads, Birmingham jewellery, &c., may be taken for presents or for small payments. Arms.--The strength of right and gentleness is the best of all protections for the traveller anywhere, and in any case the moral force of firearms is generally sufficient. A good revolver is always a source of interest and amusement (perhaps sometimes of awe) to uncivilised people, and a good double breech-loading shot-gun is really useful, besides affording some amusement to the traveller who obtains food or natural history specimens thereby. Where there are wild pigs, deer, elephant, or other large game, a rifle is of service, and a Winchester repeater is both handy and effective, weighing about 10 lb. A shot-gun is the most useful, however, of all weapons, and if fitted with ball or No. 1 shot cartridges is very effective at short ranges with deer, wild cattle, or pigs. It should be of what is called No. 12 bore, as cartridges of that size may be bought nearly everywhere, where ammunition is sold. If we except the Sarawak principality and the Dutch possessions to the southward and eastward, Borneo may be called a perfectly wild country--a land where laws, jails, horses, roads, and missionaries are unknown. The future prospects of this tropical island, so rich in natural products, so fertile under rude cultivation, and withal so extensive and beautiful, are deserving of more than a passing notice. A large proportion of the country is hilly, and covered with old forest. Near the coast the land is generally well watered by shallow rivers. On the higher hill ranges which lie a few miles inland from the north-west coast, the climate, which is in the plains sultry and malarious, becomes fresh and salubrious. The natives are few in proportion to the area, and generally peaceably disposed towards strangers, but suspicious of ulterior motives, and remarkably cautious, and now and then avaricious in matters of trade and barter. They invariably prefer sound useful articles, such as white or black cloth, to ornamental gewgaws. The products of the island may be tabulated as follows:-- +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Products of Borneo. | +-------------------------------------------------------------------+ | Animal. | Vegetable. | Mineral. | +---------------------+--------------+------------------+-----------+ |Pearls. |Sago. |Fruits [tropical |Coal. | |Mother-of-Pearl |Camphor. | of nearly all |Iron. | | Shell. |Dammar. | kinds, many in- |Tin. | |Trepang, Beche de |Benzoin. | digenous.] |Copper. | | Mer, or Sea Slug. |Gambier. |Vegetables [prin- |Cinnabar. | |Edible Swallows' |Pepper. | cipally Chinese |Antimony. | | nests. |Cloves. | varieties, edible|Gold. | |Tortoise Shell. |Ginger. | ferns, bamboo, |Diamonds. | |Ivory. |Cinnamon. | palm cabbages, |? Plumbago.| |Hides. |Rattan canes. | &c.] | | |Fish in abundance. |Timber. |Gutta-percha. | | |Bees' Wax. |Lamba fibre. |Caoutchouc, or | | |The large animals |Cotton. | India-rubber. | | | are elephant, rhi- |Coffee. |Tapioca. | | | noceros, deer, pigs,|Tobacco. |Rice. | | | wild cattle, alli- |Indigo. |Maize. | | | gators. |Cocoa. |Musa fibre or | | | |Vanilla. | Manilla hemp | | | |Spices. | (Musa textilis). | | | |Cocoanut oil. | | | +---------------------+--------------+------------------+-----------+ The vegetable products are mostly indigenous, and obtainable in the primæval forests. Some few, however, such as cotton, tobacco, coffee, and cocoa have been introduced, and are only cultivated by the natives in a desultory manner. Under systematic culture, and with Chinese coolie labour, nearly all the vegetable products of tropical countries might be grown. The mineral products are known to exist, but it is not as yet determined whether the lodes are workable, or if the metals exist in remunerative quantities. A great drawback to mining operations is the enormous rainfall. The want of British protection, and the difficulties of travel or transit inland, are against colonisation. The river Kinabatangan opens up the country from the north-east coast, and affords a good water-way by which produce could be brought down to the coast; but nearly all the other rivers to the north-west, as far as Brunei, are shallow and unnavigable, except for a mile or two near the sea; the roads inland being mere buffalo tracks, and extremely irregular on the hill slopes. The highest land and coolest climate in the island is on Kina Balu (altitude 13,700 feet), a large mountain about five days' journey from the mouth of the Tampassuk river. The lower slopes of this range might possibly grow good coffee; cinchona would be more likely to succeed in the cool and fresh, but humid, climate of the large spurs. The land here is in places deep and rich with forest débris. In places good red land, with belts of luxuriant bamboo amongst the sandstone boulders, was seen. In estimating the richness of the soil, the growth of a particular species of ginger common everywhere was observed, on poor soils it rarely exceeded a foot in height, but on some of the hill slopes near Kina Balu it attains a height of six or eight feet. The bamboo is also here more luxuriant than I observed it elsewhere in the island, and the greater variety and luxuriance of undergrowth shows that the climate or soil, or both, are here better than near the coast. There are rich alluvial deposits on the plains, where wet rice, tapioca, sago, and fruits and vegetables generally, grow well. Dry or hill rice, and the cocoanut palm, succeed inland up to 3,000 feet elevation. In Sarawak land culture has not proved to be so remunerative as the antimony and gold mines; in the north, however, this order of things might possibly be reversed. An English company has been formed for the purpose of colonising the northern part of the island, and the cessions obtained comprise the whole northern portion from Kimanis on the north-west coast to Sabuco on the east, the total area being computed at 20,000 square miles. It seems to me, however, that Borneo is too far from the great highway of eastern commerce to attract any but the most sanguine of planters and capitalists. I saw very good land in Jahore on Gunong Puloi, and recent explorations in Perak by Mr. Murton of Singapore (as also by practical coffee planters from Ceylon, and tobacco growers from Province Wellesley) prove that, so far as soil and climate are concerned, Perak, Quedah, and Jahore offer equal advantages for land culture, besides being much nearer to Singapore and the great sea-way between England and the East. APPENDIX. The main object of my journey eastward was the collection and introduction of beautiful new plants to the Veitchian Collection at Chelsea. Botanical specimens were obtained and preserved whenever practicable, as also were birds and other objects of natural history. I was fortunate in adding about fifty new species of ferns to the lists of those already collected in Borneo, and of this number, as will be seen from the following report, about twenty were absolutely new to science. Perhaps the greatest good fortune which attended my exertions was the introduction alive of the Giant Pitcher Plant of Kina Balu (Nepenthes Rajah, Hook. f.). This wonderful plant and its geographical allies were discovered in 1851 by Hugh Low, Esq., C.M.G., and were figured and described by Sir Joseph D. Hooker, K.C.S.I., in Vol. xxii. of the Transactions of the Linnæan Society. Mr. Low made repeated journeys to Kina Balu from Labuan, but unfortunately failed in his endeavours to introduce these fine plants to European gardens in a living state. Mr. Thos. Lobb, one of the most successful of all Eastern plant hunters, attempted to reach the habitat of these plants in 1856, but was prevented by the natives. These plants are very remarkable, and, so far as is at present known, exist only on this one mountain in Borneo. Nepenthes bicalcarata, the "Two-spurred Pitcher Plant," was also for the first time introduced alive, and is very remarkable, its pitchers being armed in a really formidable way, and the swollen stalks of its urns are perforated by a species of ant in a singular manner. Of palms a beautiful species of areca, having gracefully arched leaves and vermilion-coloured sheaths, was introduced alive, as also a very attractive dwarf species of pinanga (P. Veitchii, H. Wend.), the bifurcate fans of which are purple below and glaucous-green above, blotched with brown. Aroids are plentiful in the shady Bornean forests, the species in some cases being extremely local in their distribution. Of the new genera discovered two have very pretty spathes, and if they can be successfully cultivated will prove very interesting and ornamental stove plants. Piptospatha insignis, N. E. Br., a pretty little "rock arad," found on sandstone boulders in the beds of mountain streams, has a tuft of lance-shaped leaves and dainty white spathes tipped with pink. Gamagyne Burbidgei, N. E. Br., is a plant of larger growth, being a foot high but otherwise of similar habit. The spathes are of a bright rose colour. This plant grows beside mountain streams in positions where the passing water laves its roots. Amongst new species of aroideæ may be mentioned the sub-aquatic Cryptocoryne caudata, N. E. Br., which has heart-shaped bullate leaves of a dark green colour, the spathe being terminated with a long tail, which reminds one of the same appendages in the arisæmas of the Himalayas. Three or four new species of alocasia were found, the remarkable being A. scabriuscula, A. guttata, and A. pumila. Pothos ceratocaulis, a fresh green climbing species, was also introduced alive, and is a plant of distinct marcgraavia-like habit. Specimens of Schismatoglottis and Chamæcladon are at present undetermined. A singular new asclepiadaceous genus (Astrostruma spartioides, Benth.), was discovered growing as an epiphyte on forest trees in Labuan, and in dry woods near the sea at the northern point of the last-named island, the remarkable little Microstylis Burbidgei, Rchb. f., was found. One of my first discoveries in Borneo itself was the new zingiberaceous genus Burbidgea (B. nitida, Hook, f.), and other novelties were Dendrobium cerinum, Cypripedium Lawrencianum, and Bolbophyllum Leysianum, a highly curious plant. A fine new Bolbophyllum was introduced alive to Chelsea from the Tampassuk river (B. Petreianum, Burb. MS.), which I propose shall bear the name of my whilom travelling companion, P. C. M. Veitch, Esq. Rhododendron stenophyllum, and Nepenthes Burbidgei, Hook. f., were two of the more remarkable of the new plants from Kina Balu itself, where also the gigantic moss Dawsonia superba was collected at an altitude of 6,000 feet, these specimens being, as Mr. Mitten informs me, the first obtained northwards of New Zealand, The three native courts of Jahore, Brunei, and Sulu were visited, and I was enabled to make extended excursions into the interior of the main island of Sulu itself. In Borneo the flora was remarkable for endemic Malasian species, intermixed more especially at high altitudes with Indian (Rhododendra) and Australian (Dacrydium, Phyllocladus, Drosera, etc.) types. In Sulu both the flora and fauna showed, as was to be expected, a marked resemblance to those of the Philippine and Celebes groups. My collections in Sulu comprised new ferns, rare mosses, and several beautiful new orchids, including Phalænopsis Marie, Dendrobium Burbidgei (which is mainly remarkable as being similar to the D. d'Albertisii discovered about the same time in New Guinea). Here also the lovely pink-blossomed Aerides Burbidgei, Rchb. f., was obtained, and several other species and varieties at present unnamed. The Sulu voyage was in many ways enjoyable, but especially as being to a virgin land botanically and ornithologically, and I must here take the opportunity of acknowledging my obligations to Captain W. C. Cowie, of the steamship Far East, who gave me every accommodation during the voyage from Labuan, and while we lay in the little harbour at Meimbong. As will be seen, my ornithological discoveries in Sulu were a new species of jungle cock (Gallus stramineicollis), and a new paroquet (Tanygnanthus Burbidgei). Sarcops Lowii was also obtained in Sulu, and the new Buchanga stigmatops from Kina Balu. No special endeavours were made in obtaining birds, only such species being shot as came in the way while I was searching the forest and mountain sides for plants. The first expedition to the great mountain of Kina Balu was made in company with P. C. M. Veitch, Esq., who joined me on his return from an extended tour in Australia and the Fiji islands. The journey was a critical and tedious one, as we walked every inch of the way from Gaya Bay to the mountain, and back again to the coast, viâ the Koung, Kalawat and Bawang villages. We were successful in finding all the large species of nepenthes in one locality on the mountain for the first time, and in addition a distinct variety of N. Edwardsiana with shorter thick-winged pitchers, which it is possible may prove to be a natural hybrid between N. Edwardsiana and N. villosa. My acknowledgments are due to Hugh Low, Esq., C.M.G., H.M. Resident in Perak, who, when he heard of my intention of ascending the mountain, very kindly sent me information as to the localities on Kina Balu where the nepenthes and other rare plants are found. To H. E. William Hood Treacher, H.M. Administrator of Labuan, and to the Hon. Dr. Leys, M.B., Colonial Surgeon of the same island, I shall always be grateful for the practical help afforded me during my expedition, and for the open-handed hospitality they extended to a wandering stranger by chance thrown in their way. LIST OF FERNS COLLECTED IN BORNEO. The following is an abridged account of my specimens of ferns, as written by Mr. J. G. Baker, F.R.S., and published in the Journal of Botany, 1879, p. 37:-- The following is a complete list of the species gathered, which were all obtained in the neighbourhood of Labuan and Kina Balu. To the new species I have prefixed numbers, showing the position in which they fall, according to the sequence followed in our "Synopsis Filicum;" and I have marked with a * the names of those which, so far as I am aware, have not been gathered in the island before. I may mention that a complete catalogue of the ferns of Borneo was published in 1876 by Baron Vincent de Cesati, with a special account, with figures of some of the novelties, of those gathered by Professor Beccari. * Gleichenia circinata, Sw., var. borneensis, Baker. Gleichenia dichotoma, Hook. * Gleichenia vestita, Blume, var. palacea, Baker. Alsophila glabra, Hook.? Alsophila latebrosa, Hook. 59.* Alsophila Burbidgei, Baker, n. sp. Allied to A. latebrosa, Oldhami and Wallacei. Hymenophyllum Blumeanum, Spreng. * Hymenophyllum Smithii, Hook. The plant so called in Cesati's list proved to be Trichomanes denticulatum, Baker. * Hymenophyllum sabinæfolium, Baker. Hymenophyllum Neesii, Hook. * Hymenophyllum formosum, Brack. * Hymenophyllum obtusum, Hook. Gathered lately in New Guinea by Beccari. Trichomanes filicula, Bory. Trichomanes pallidum, Blume. Trichomanes digitatum, Sw. Two different forms, one lengthened out, with remote branches, the other short, with close branches. Trichomanes javanicum, Blume. Trichomanes pyxidiferum, Linn. A handsome variety, with unusually compound rather crisped fronds. Trichomanes rigidum, Sw. Trichomanes maximum, Blume. * Trichomanes apiifolium, Presl. Trichomanes hispidulum, Mett. This was only known before from a single sheet of specimens in the Kew herbarium, gathered by Thos. Lobb. Trichomanes foeniculaceum, Bory. Trichomanes Pluma, Hook. We did not know the definite station of Lobb's specimens, from which this was described and figured by Hooker. Beccari has gathered it near Sarawak. Trichomanes trichophyllum, Moore. With the last, with which I am now inclined to think it will prove to be conspecific. Davallia angustata, Wall. Davallia heterophylla, Smith. Davallia parvula, Wall. Davallia luzonica, Hook. * Davallia contigua, Sw. * Davallia Emersoni, Hook and Grev. Davallia pedata, Sm. * Davallia ciliata, Hook. Davallia elegans, Sw. Davallia Speluncæ, Baker. Davallia tenuifolia, Sw. 49.* Davallia (Eudavallia) Veitchii, Baker, n. sp.--A well-marked plant, reminding one in cutting and habit of the barren fronds of Onychium japonicum or auratum. 5.* Lindsaya jamesonioides, Baker, n. sp.--A most distinct novelty, with the habit of Asplenium trichomanes or Jamesonia imbricata. 7.* Lindsaya crispa, Baker, n. sp.--Habit of the small tender forms of Adiantum caudatum, but the fronds neither at all hairy nor rooting at the tip. * Lindsaya pectinata, Blume. Lindsaya cultrata, Sw. Lindsaya borneensis, Hook. Lindsaya trapeziformis, Dry. * Lindsaya flabellulata, Dry. Lindsaya davallioides, Blume. Lindsaya ensifolia, Sw. Lindsaya divergens, Wall. * Adiantum diaphanum, Blume. * Cheilanthes tenuifolia, Sw. Pteris aquilina, L. Pteris semipinnata, L. Pteris quadriaurita, Betz., var. digitata, Baker. A digitate form, like the Indian P. Grevilleana, Wall., but the barren and fertile fronds not dimorphic. The texture firmer than usual. The rachis with a broad wing, as in P. biaurata, and the veins crowded and obscure. * Lomaria procera, Spreng. Asplenium Nidus, L. Asplenium tenerum, Forst. Asplenium squamulatum, Blume. * Asplenium caudatum, Forst. Asplenium cuneatum, Lam. Asplenium laserpitiifolium, Lam. Asplenium affine, Sw. Asplenium dichotomum, Hook. Kina Balu. The only known station. The plant has been twice gathered previously. 203.* Asplenium (Diplazium) porphyrorachis, Baker.--This is the plant described by Sir W. Hooker from a single barren frond without fruit gathered by Mr. A. R. Wallace, as Polypodium subserratum (Hook. and Baker, Syn. Fil., p. 325). In Asplenium that specific name is already occupied. Of the present plant A. zeylanicum, Hook., is the only near ally. The same species was gathered by Beccari, near Sarawak. * Asplenium porrectum, Wall. * Asplenium tomentosum, Hook. 207.* Asplenium (Diplazium) xiphophyllum, Baker, n. sp.--Comes near A. pallidum, porrectum, and cultratum. * Asplenium latifolium, Don. Asplenium cordifolium, Mett. * Didymochlæna lunulata, Desv. * Aspidium aculeatum, Sw. * Nephrodium calcaratum, Hook. * Nephrodium pteroides, J. Sm. * Nephrodium unitum, R. Br. * Nephrodium cucullatum, Baker. * Nephrodium, near pennigerum? Probably new, but specimens not complete enough to characterise it. Nephrodium molle, Desv. * Nephrodium Haenkeanum, Presl. * Nephrodium singaporianum, Baker. Nephrodium ternatum, Baker. A fine series of specimens of this endemic species. 219.* Nephrodium (Sagenia) nudum, Baker, n. sp.--Allied to N. pachyphyllum, Baker. * Nephrodium polymorphum, Baker. Nephrolepis volubilis, J. Sm. Polypodium Barberi, Hook. Polypodium urophyllum, Wall. A variety with many of the sori confluent. 91.* Polypodium (Eupolypodium) minimum, Baker, n. sp.--Allied to the Andine P. Sprucei, Hook., and Mascaren P. Gilpinæ and synsorum, Baker. 131.* Polypodium (Eupolypodium) Burbidgei, Baker, n. sp.--Habit and texture of Davallia Emersoni. Polypodium alternidens, Cesati, Fil. Born., p. 25, tab. 2, fig. 4. Of this Burbidge's bundle contains a single specimen. It is a well-marked new species, discovered by Signor Beccari in the neighbourhood of Sarawak. * Polypodium cucullatum, Nees. A small slender form. 132.* Polypodium (Eupolypodium) streptophyllum, Baker, n. sp.--Allied to P. cucullatum, but the pinnæ are narrower, and reach down to the main rachis, and bear the sorus at their tip. * Polypodium minutum, Blume. * Polypodium papillosum, Blume. The plant so-called by Cesati, gathered by Beccari, near Sarawak, I hold to be quite distinct from Blume's Javan type, and propose to call it P. Cesatianum. * Polypodium clavifer, Hook. 210.* Polypodium (Eupolypodium) taxodioides, Baker, n. sp. Polypodium soridens, Hook. 297.* Polypodium (Phymatodes) stenopteris, Baker, n. sp. Polypodium longifolium, Mett. * Polypodium oodes, Kunze. Matches exactly Cuming's Philippine specimens, which were all that were previously known. 301.* Polypodium (Phymatodes) holophyllum, Baker, n. sp.--Like P. oodes in rhizome, stipe and sori; differing by its smaller frond, crenulate border and flabellate veining. Polypodium acrostichoides, Forst. * Polypodium angustatum, Sw. Polypodium dipteris, Blume. Polypodium bifurcatum, Baker. Polypodium Phymatodes, L. * Polypodium ebenipes, Hook. Gymnogramma avenia, Baker. Gymnogramma borneensis, Hook. Gymnogramma Wallichii, Hook. Gymnogramma Feei, Hook. Antrophyum reticulatum, Kaulf. Vittaria debilis, Kuhn. Vittaria elongata, Sw. Tænitis blechnoides, Sw. Both the type and well-marked variety, T. interrupta, H. and G. Acrostichum sorbifolium, L. * Acrostichum scandens, J. Sm. * Acrostichum subrepandum, Hook. Acrostichum drynarioides, Hook. * Acrostichum bicuspe, Hook. The typical form, which has only been once gathered before by Thomas Lobb in Java. Platycerium biforme, Blume. * Platycerium grande, A. Cunn. Schizæa malaccana, Baker. Schizæa dichotoma, Sw. Schizæa digitata, Sw. Lygodium dichotomum, Sw. Lygodium scandens, Sw. * Equisetum elongatum, Willd. Lycopodium cernuum, L. Lycopodium casuarinoides, Spreng. Lycopodium carinatum, Desv. Lycopodium Phlegmaria, L. * Lycopodium macrostachys, Hook. and Grev. * Lycopodium volubile, Forst. * Selaginella atroviridis, Spreng. Selaginella caulescens, Spreng. Selaginella inæqualifolia, Spreng. * Selaginella Willdenovii, Baker. * Selaginella flabellata, Spreng. * Selaginella suberosa, Spreng. Psilotum triquetrum, Sw. Psilotum complanatum, Sw. = P. Zollingeri, Cesati. It will be seen that altogether Mr. Burbidge has added above fifty species to the fern-flora of the island. His exploration quite bears out the idea that we previously entertained, that the fern-flora of the island is very rich, and that there is still a plentiful harvest to await the exploration of the interior. The added species which are not new are nearly all already known in Java and the Philippine Islands, frequently in both. REPORT ON BURBIDGE'S FERNS OF THE SULU ARCHIPELAGO. By J. G. Baker, F.R.S., F.L.S. The Sulu Archipelago is a group of small islands lying between Borneo and the Philippines. They are for the most part under cultivation; but there are two mountains which attain an elevation of between two thousand and three thousand feet. So far as I am aware their botany is entirely unknown. The following is a full catalogue of the ferns which Mr. Burbidge gathered in the group:-- 38.* Cyathea suluensis, Baker, n. sp.--Allied to C. integra, J. Sm., of the Philippine Islands and Amboyna. Hymenophyllum dilatatum, Sw., var. H. formosum, Brack. Trichomanes javanicum, Blume. Trichomanes maximum, Blume. Trichomanes rigidum, Sw. Davallia pinnata, Cav., and its variety luzonica. Pteris quadriaurita, Retz. 4.* Pteris Treacheariana, Baker, n. sp.--Near P. cretica, but much more slender and delicate in general aspect, with the lowest one to three pairs of pinnæ two to three forked. Named at the request of Mr. Burbidge in compliment to the Honourable W. H. Treacher, Acting Governor of Labuan, whose kindness and help contributed materially to the success of his expedition. Lindsaya cultrata, Sw. Lindsaya pectinata, Blume. Lindsaya flabellulata, Dryand. Lindsaya lobata, Poir. Lindsaya davallioides, Blume. Asplenium persicifolium, J. Sm. An endemic Philippine species. Asplenium resectum, Smith. Asplenium falcatum, Lam. Asplenium hirtum, Kaulf. Asplenium cuneatum, Lam. Asplenium Belangeri, Kunze. Asplenium pallidum, Blume. Asplenium bantamense, Baker. Asplenium cordifolium, Mett. Nephrodium melanocaulon, Baker. 27.* Polypodium (Phegopteris) oxyodon, Baker, n. sp.--A very distinct plant, allied to P. caudatum of Tropical America. 175.* Polypodium (Eupolypodium) Leysii, Baker, n. sp.--Allied to P. taxifolium and apiculatum of Tropical America. Named at the request of Mr. Burbidge in compliment to the Honourable Peter Leys, M.B., Colonial Surgeon, Labuan, who materially aided him during his residence there, and accompanied him on one of his expeditions into the interior. Polypodium albo-squamatum, Blume. Polypodium palmatum, Blume. Vittaria elongata, Sw. Antrophytum reticulatum, Kaulf. Tænitis blechnoides, Sw. Gymnogramma Wallichii, Hook. Osmunda javanica, Blume. Lycopodium Phlegmaria, Linn. Selaginella caulescens, Spreng. Selaginella Willdenovii, Baker. Selaginella conferta, Moore. Selaginella caudata, Spreng. Selaginella atroviridis, Spreng. A CONTRIBUTION TO THE AVIFAUNA OF THE SULU ISLANDS. By R. Bowdler Sharpe, F.L.S., F.Z.S., etc. Senior Assistant, Department of Zoology, British Museum. PROC. ZOOL. SOC. 1879. Part II. [Received March 18, 1879.] The present collection was formed by Mr. F. W. Burbidge during a short stay in the Sulu Islands, a most interesting locality to the ornithologist, and one of which very little is known. In my paper on Dr. Steere's collections from the Philippines, I noticed the four species of birds as yet recorded from the Sulu Islands, [8] and I ought to have added the common Artamus of the Indo-Malayan region, and a cuckoo, both recorded by Peale from Mangsi. In addition to the birds obtained by Mr. Burbidge, I have received permission from the authorities of the Oxford Museum to describe the large Bornean collections forwarded to that institution by Mr. W. H. Treacher, Acting Governor of Labuan. Amongst them are a few birds from Sulu, but apparently not the result of a separate expedition, but presented to Mr. Treacher by Mr. Burbidge. To the latter gentleman I am indebted for the following notes:-- "Among the birds which I saw in Sulu, but could not secure, I would particularly mention--some hornbills, seemingly the common black-and-white small kind from Labuan; a fine white harrier, with black tips to the wings (this is a distinct and handsome bird, not unfrequently seen circling over rice fields, or grassy plains); the 'fire-backed' pheasant; and an owl, apparently a larger and brighter-coloured edition of our common barn-owl, or screeching species. The blue, white-ringed kingfisher (Halcyon chloris) of Labuan is very common here, as is also the rufous, white-headed scavenger hawk or eagle; [9] and at least two other species, both larger, are to be found looking out for food near the wharf at Meimbong. Curlews are as plentiful here as in Sarawak and other parts of Borneo. I missed the nocturnal 'chuck-chuck' of the goat-sucker, so common in Labuan. Water-rails and a pretty blue kingfisher are not uncommon by the margin of the Meimbong river, which is close to the harbour, and is an excellent shooting-ground. Gun-boats often come here; and as the country is now readily accessible, much might doubtless be done in ornithology. Capital angling may be had in this little river; and there is a good bathing place near the town, and close to the market, where one may be entirely free from the fear of an alligator lurking about in wait for a meal. Now and then the Sultan and his court, male and female, together with all the principal people in the island, meet to enjoy the fun of pig-hunting, the wild boar being very plentiful here, together with two or three species of deer. These pigs do a good deal of damage to cultivated crops; so that now and then a regular field-day is organised, and nearly every man, pony, dog, and spear in the island are out, versus 'Piggy,' as many as fifty of the latter being slain in a single day. There are so many kinds of sport easily attainable here, provisions of the best are so cheap, a pony may be hired for about 1s. 6d. a day, and there is so much that is novel to be seen about the town and the court, that the wonder is that some traveller, fond of sport, and especially ornithology, does not take up his quarters here for a month or two--and particularly as the place is easily reached from Singapore, viâ Labuan, or from Hong-Kong, viâ Manila." Mr. Burbidge left England on a botanical expedition, to collect living plants; and his success in this department of natural history is well known. His chief attention having been devoted to plants, it only remains to thank him for the intelligent way in which he devoted his scanty leisure time to forming the present collection of birds. The following I believe to be a correct list of Sulu birds as at present known; and I have included the few species mentioned by Peale as procured in Mangsi by the United States Exploring Expedition. I have also added the references to Lord Tweeddale's recent papers on the Philippine collections of Mr. Alfred Everett, and have given the ranges of the different species in the Philippine archipelago, so as to bring the subject up to the present date. 1. Cacatua hamæturopygia (P. L. S. Müll.). Cacatua hamæturophygia, Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 132; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 312; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 756, 817; 1878, pp. 107, 281, 340, 379. Two specimens. [Luzon (Meyer); Guimaras (Meyer); Negros (Meyer, Steere, Everett); Zebu (Everett); Leyte (Everett); Nipar (Everett); Panaon (Everett); Butuan River, N. Mindanao (Everett); Sulu (Burbidge).] 2. Prioniturus discurus (V.). Prioniturus discurus, Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 132; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 312; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 538, 688, 756, 817; 1878, p. 379. A single specimen, agreeing with others in the British Museum from the Philippine Islands. [Luzon (Meyer, Everett); Negros (Steere); Zebu (Everett); Panaon (Everett); Mindanao (Cuming, Everett, Murray); Basilan (Steere); Sulu (Burbidge); Balabak (Steere).] 3. Tanygnathus lucionensis (L.). Tanygnathus lucionensis, Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 133; Sharpe, Tr. Lin. Soc. n.s. i. p. 312; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 538, 756, 817; 1878, pp. 281, 340, 612. A single specimen, collected by Mr. Burbidge, and exactly resembling the specimens from Manilla and from Palawan in the British Museum. [Luzon (Meyer); Guimaras (Meyer); Negros (L. C. Layard, Steere, Everett); Cebu (Everett); Leyte (Everett); Mindanao (Steere, Everett); Malanipa (Murray); Sulu (Burbidge, Peale); Palawan (Steere, Everett).] 4. Tanygnathus burbidgei, sp. n. Similis T. muelleri, ex Celebes, sed dorso toto sordide prasino, capite flavicanti-viridi et alis omnino viridibus distinguendus. This fine new species of Tanygnathus is closely allied to T. muelleri of Celebes and T. everetti of Mindanao. It differs from T. muelleri in having the back green instead of yellow, while the head is yellowish green and not emerald-green; there is also no blue on the wing-coverts, the whole wing being green. The following is a full description of the bird. Adult. General colour above dark grass-green, including the hind neck, entire mantle, and scapulars; wings a little lighter green, the wing-coverts and secondaries with narrow yellow margins, the primaries blackish on the inner web, externally dark grass-green with a slight blue shade along the shaft, the first primary black shaded with blue on the outer web; entire back and rump deep cobalt-blue; upper tail-coverts green, slightly shaded with yellow on the margins; tail-feathers dark green, with a narrow margin of yellow at the tip, the under surface of the tail golden-yellow; head yellowish green, the sides of the face also of this colour; the under-surface of the body bright grass-green, yellow on the throat and fore neck and passing into green on the breast and abdomen; under wing-coverts and under tail-coverts of the same green as the breast, with yellow margins; quills ashy blackish below. Total length 15·5 inches, culmen 1·8, wing 8·6, tail 6·4, tarsus 0·65. On comparing T. burbidgei with T. everetti, one is struck at once by the larger size of the former and its yellowish green head, the crown being emerald-green in T. everetti, which also has the wing only 7·55 inches in length (Samar: Mus. Brit.). None of the Sulu birds, of which there are five in the collections, have the feathers of the mantle edged with blue as in the Samar individual. 5. Elanus hypoleucus, Gould. Elanus hypoleucus, Sharpe, Cat. B. i. p. 338; Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 142; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, p. 757. An adult specimen: wing 11·5 inches. [Luzon (Jagor); Cebu (Everett); Sulu (Burbidge); N.W. Borneo (Treacher).] 6. Scops rufescens (Horsf.). Scops rufescens, Sharpe, Cat. B. iii. p. 102. One specimen. This bird seems to me to differ slightly from Bornean and Malaccan examples in having a much darker face, the ear-coverts shaded with black. I do not, however, propose to found a new species on a single example, and must wait for more specimens. The measurements of the Sulu bird are as follows:--Total length 7 inches, culmen 0·7, wing 4·8, tail 2·6, tarsus 0·85. It will be seen that they are a good deal inferior to those of the type of Scops mantis, as given by me in the "Catalogue." 7. Cuculus fucatus, Peale. Cuculus fucatus, Peale, U.S. Expl. Exp. Zool. 1848, p. 136. C. tenuirostris, Less.; Cass. U.S. Expl. Exp. p. 244. This cuckoo may be Cuculus himalayanus, which has recently been shot in Labuan by Governor Ussher; but it is difficult to decide without seeing a specimen. At present the species is only known from the plate and description given by Peale, who procured it on the island of Mangsi. 8. Artamus leucorhynchus (L.). Artamus leucorhynchus, Walden, P. Z. S. ix. p. 174; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 323; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 544, 692, 759, 826; 1878, pp. 283, 342. A. leucogaster (Valenc.); Sharpe in Rowley's Orn. Misc. iii. p. 179. One specimen. [Luzon (Meyer); Guimaras (Meyer); Negros (Meyer, Everett); Cebu (Murray, Everett); Leyte (Everett); Mindanao (Everett, Steere); Sulu (Burbidge); Mangsi (Peale).] 9. Oriolus chinensis, L. Oriolus chinensis, Sharpe, Cat. B. iii. p. 203. O. suluensis, Sharpe, tom. cit. p. 205. Broderipus acrorhynchus (Vig.); Walden, Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 185; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 545, 694, 760, 826; 1878, pp. 110, 285, 342, 380. The receipt of three more specimens from Mr. Burbidge convinces me that the Sulu Islands bird, which I thought was a race of O. frontalis, Wall., from the Sula Islands, is not really specifically separable from the common oriole of the Philippines, called by me Oriolus chinensis, and by Lord Tweeddale Broderipus acrorhynchus. A further comparison of the series seems to show that O. frontalis of Wallace, from the Sula Islands, is scarcely to be distinguished from O. chinensis, the only difference being the slightly greater extent of yellow on the tail-feathers in the latter bird. [Luzon (Meyer); Panay (Murray); Guimaras (Meyer); Negros (Meyer, Steere, Everett); Cebu (Meyer, Murray, Everett); Leyte (Everett); Panaon (Everett); Dinagat (Everett); Mindanao (Steere, Murray, Everett); Sulu (Burbidge); Si Butu (Low); Balabac (Steere).] 10. Corone philippina (Bp.). Corone philippina, Sharpe, Cat. B. iii. p. 42; id. Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 343. Corvus philippinus, Bp.; Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 201; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 548, 698, 763, 831; 1878, pp. 113, 287, 343, 381. Three specimens. [Luzon (Cuming, Meyer, Everett); Cujo (Meyer); Panay (Murray); Negros (Meyer, Steere, Everett); Cebu (Everett); Leyte (Everett); Panaon (Everett); Camiguin (Murray); Dinagat (Everett); Mindanao (Murray, Everett); Sulu (Burbidge).] 11. Sarcops lowii. Sarcops lowii, Sharpe, l.c. p. 344. Several specimens collected by Mr. Burbidge confirm the distinctness of this species from S. calvus. 12. Osmotreron vernans (L.). Osmotreron vernans, Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 210; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 346; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, p. 764; 1878, p. 623. A female specimen. [Luzon (Meyer); Panay (Steere); Zebu (Everett); Sulu (Burbidge); Palawan (Steere).] 13. Osmotreron axillaris (Gray). Osmotreron axillaris, Walden, Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 211; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. ix. p. 346; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 549, 699, 764, 832; 1878, pp. 113, 287. An adult specimen. [Luzon (Meyer, Everett); Guimaras (Meyer); Panay (Murray); Negros (Meyer, Steere, Everett); Cebu (Everett); Dinagat (Everett); Mindanao (Steere, Everett); Sulu (Burbidge).] 14. Carpophaga ænea (L.). Carpophaga ænea, Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 215; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 346; Tweedd. P. Z. S. 1877, pp. 764, 832; 1878, pp. 113, 288, 344, 623. One specimen. [Luzon (Meyer); Negros (Meyer, Steere, Everett); Cebu (Everett); Leyte (Everett); Dinagat (Everett); Mindanao (Everett); Sulu (Burbidge); Palawan (Steere, Everett).] 15. Carpophaga pickeringi. Carpophaga pickeringi, Cass. Pr. Philad. Acad. 1854, p. 228; id. U.S. Expl. Exp. p. 267, pl. xxvii; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 353. Procured by the United States Exploring Expedition in the island of Mangsi. 16. Ianthoenas griseigularis, Wald. et Layard. Ianthoenas griseigularis, Wald. Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 218; id. P. Z. S. 1878. p. 288. One specimen. I refer this pigeon with some hesitation to I. griseigularis, of which I have never seen a specimen, and only know it from Mr. Keuleman's figure in the Ibis for 1872 (pl. vi.). On the other hand, it is very closely allied to I. albigularis of the Moluccas, but differs in the greyish shade on the white throat, which is also more restricted, and in the forehead being grey with only a slight mark of lilac. 17. Caloenas nicobarica (L.). Caloenas nicobarica, Cas. U.S. Expl. Exp. p. 276; Sharpe, P. Z. S. 1875, p. 110. Observed on Mangsi in some abundance by the U.S. Exploring Expedition. 18. Ptilopus melanocephalus. Ptilopus melanocephalus (Gm.); Elliot, P. Z. S. 1878, p. 551. An adult specimen. 19. Macropygia tenuirostris, Gray. Macropygia tenuirostris, Walden, Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 218; Sharpe, Tr. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 347. Two specimens. [Luzon (Meyer); Basilan (Steere); Sulu (Burbidge).] Lord Tweeddale differs from Professor Schlegel's opinion that the same Philippine species is found in Java and Lombock, where it is M. emiliana of Bonaparte; but having compared several specimens lately, I believe that the Professor's view is the right one, and that the bird is found over the Philippines, and occurs even in Borneo. Lord Tweeddale separates the Negros bird as M. eurycerca. 20. Gallus stramineicollis, sp. n. General colour above black, shot with green and purple; wing-coverts like the back, the innermost and the scapulars with a slight subterminal shine of coppery brown; primary-coverts and primaries black, the secondaries externally green; feathers of the lower back and rump straw-yellow, with darker longitudinal centres of black or green; upper tail-coverts and tail glossy oil-green; crown of head and nape black; hind neck and neck-hackles, as well as sides of neck, straw-yellow, deeper on the hind neck, with green longitudinal centres to the feathers; remainder of under surface of body black with a green gloss; comb short and rounded; sides of face and entire throat bare. Total length 34·5 inches, culmen 1·1, wing 9·0, tail 17·5, tarsus 3·4. Mr. Burbidge procured a single example of this jungle-fowl, which appears to be a very distinct species. He tells me that it was brought to the ship by one of the Sulu natives alive, and he cannot vouch for its having been a wild bird. I have, however, shown the bird to Mr. Gould and other ornithologists; and they agree with me that it is probably a distinct species of jungle-fowl. Governor Ussher also has seen the bird; and he tells me that he has never seen any domesticated fowls in Borneo or the Eastern Islands which approached this species in the least. ON COLLECTIONS OF BIRDS FROM KINA BALU MOUNTAIN IN NORTH-WESTERN BORNEO. By R. Bowdler Sharpe, F.L.S., F.Z.S., Senior Assistant, Department of Zoology, British Museum. PROC. ZOOL. SOC. 1879. Part II. [Received February 14, 1879.] The great mountain of Kina Balu has always been a locality of interest to the student of Bornean ornithology; but I am not aware that any notes on the natural history of this part of northern Borneo have ever been published. It gives me great pleasure, therefore, to give a list of the specimens obtained by Mr. Treacher's collectors, [10] and of a few others submitted to me by Mr. Burbidge, and obtained during his recent expedition to this mountain. The latter gentleman is well known from his successful botanical researches on Kina Balu; and I shall shortly lay before the Society an account of some of his ornithological discoveries in the Sulu archipelago. The present collection, though small, is of some importance; and the character of some of the birds seems to show that the mountains of Borneo, when thoroughly explored, will produce many species akin to those found in the mountains of Java, Sumatra, and even of the Himalayas. 1. Butastur indicus. Butastur indicus (Gm.), Sharpe, Cat. B. i. p. 297. Poliornis indica (Gm.), Salvad. Ucc. Born. p. 9. A specimen in nearly full plumage, collected by Mr. Burbidge. 2. Bubo orientalis. Bubo orientalis (Horsf.), Sharpe, Cat. B. ii. p. 39. B. sumatranus (Raffl.), Salvad. Ucc. Born. p. 19. A fine adult specimen in Mr. Treacher's collection, agreeing with the diagnosis given by me (l.c.), and measuring 13 inches in the wing. 3. Megalæma versicolor. Megalæma versicolor (Raffl.), Marsh. Mon. Capit. pl. 22. Chotorea versicolor, Salvad. tom. cit. p. 33. Three adult specimens, obtained by M. Burbidge. 4. Rhopodytes erythrognathus. Rhopodytes erythrognathus (Hartl.), Sharpe, P. Z. S. 1873, p. 604. Rhamphococcyx erythrognathus (Hartl.), Salvad. tom. cit. p. 74. A specimen in Mr. Treacher's collection, having the two centre tail-feathers rufous at their ends. 5. Halcyon chloris. Halcyon chloris (Bodd.), Sharpe, Monogr. Alced. pl. 87. Sauropatis chloris (Bodd.), Salvad. tom. cit. p. 103. One specimen, sent by Mr. Treacher. 6. Dendrochelidon longipennis. Dendrochelidon longipennis (Rafin.), Salvad. tom. cit. p. 122. One specimen, collected by Mr. Burbidge. 7. Corone tenuirostris. Corone tenuirostris, Moore, Cat. B. Mus. E. I. Co. ii. p. 558. Corvus tenuirostris, Tweedd. Ibis, 1877, p. 320. One specimen, in Mr. Treacher's collection. The constant character of the long thin bill in specimens from N. W. Borneo impresses me with the idea that Lord Tweeddale is right in keeping C. tenuirostris distinct from C. enca, with which I united it in my "Catalogue of Birds" (vol. iii. p. 43). 8. Dicrurus annectens. Dicrurus annectens, Hodgs.; Sharpe, Cat. B. iii. p. 231; id. Ibis, 1878, p. 414. The first occurrence of this species in Borneo was recorded by me in my list of Governor Ussher's Sarawak collection; but it cannot be uncommon in North-western Borneo, to judge from numerous specimens which have been sent from Labuan and from the opposite coast by Governor Ussher and Mr. Treacher. Two specimens are contained in the collection made on Kina Balu by Mr. Burbidge. 9. Chibia borneensis, sp. n. C. similis C. pectorali, ex insulis Suluenisibus, sed plumis lanceolatis colli lateralis metallice chalybeo-viridibus nec purpurascentibus, et maculis jugularibus et præpectoralibus valde minoribus et conspicue metallicis chalybeo-viridibus distinguenda. Long. tot. 10, culm. 1·3, alæ 5·9, caudæ 4·5, tarsi 0·85. An adult and young bird, in Mr. Treacher's collection. This is an interesting addition to the avifauna of Borneo, and seems to indicate an entirely new species. It bears considerable resemblance to C. bimaensis of Timor and Lombock, but differs in having the long silky plumes on each side of the lower back black instead of greyish white; while the Timor bird has not, like C. borneensis, any long hair-like plumes on the head. On the other hand the latter character allies it to C. pectoralis of the Sulu Islands; but it may be recognised on comparison by the much smaller and more metallic spots on the throat and fore neck, which are steel-green, as also are the neck-hackles. In C. pectoralis the spangles are large, dull, and incline to purplish in tint. This species appears to me to be a thorough Chibia, and I do not at present see how naturalists can avoid recognizing the existence of Chibia in the Malay archipelago; nor do I understand how the Indian and Malayan species are to be separated, when such a perfect gradation is now offered by C. borneensis and C. pectoralis. Under these circumstances I believe that Salvadori's genus Dicruropsis, which I was lately inclined to admit (Mittheil. k. zool. Mus. Dresd. iii. p. 360), cannot be sustained; and I therefore revert to my old opinion concerning these birds (Cat. B. iii. p. 234). I have given this species the name of borneensis to celebrate the addition of a Chibia to the avifauna of Borneo. Mr. Treacher has also procured a single specimen of it on the Lawas river. The young bird from Kina Balu differs from the adult in being duller black, with fewer and less metallic chest-spots and hackles. 10. Buchanga stigmatops, sp. n. B. similis B. leucophææ, sed macula lorali alba magna distinguenda. Long. tot. 10, culm. 0·9, alæ 5·3, caudæ 5·1, tarsi 0·7. The presence of white on the facial region of a species of grey Buchanga would seem to ally it at once to B. leucogenys. In the Bornean bird, however, of which I have three specimens before me, the white is confined to a large loral spot in front of the eye, whereas in B. leucogenys the eyebrow and ear-coverts, as well as the feathers below the eye, are also white or whitish. The new species is also of the same dark grey as B. leucophæa (B. cineracea of my Catalogue, iii. p. 250), and not of the light pearly grey which is another character of B. leucogenys. One specimen was contained in Mr. Burbidge's collection, and two in Mr. Treacher's. 11. Pericrocotus igneus. Pericrocotus igneus, Blyth; Salvad. tom. cit. p. 144; Sharpe, Cat. B. iv. p. 78. An adult male, in Mr. Burbidge's collection. 12. Trachycomus ochrocephalus. Trachycomus ochrocephalus (Gm.), Salvad. tom. cit. p. 197. One specimen, in Mr. Burbidge's collection. 13. Rubigula montis, sp. n. R. similis R. flaviventri, sed multa minor et gula flava nec nigra distinguenda. Long. tota 5·7, culminis 0·5, alæ 3·1, caudæ 2·8, tarsi 0·7. General colour above olive-yellowish, the wing-coverts like the back; quills and tail dull blackish brown, externally washed with olive-yellow like the back, the greater coverts also brown washed with olive-yellow; tail-feathers paler brown at the tip of the inner web; head crested, black, as also the sides of the face, ear-coverts, and cheeks; entire under surface of body yellow, slightly more olive-green on the sides; under wing-coverts yellow, the longer ones white washed with yellow; quills sepia-brown below, white along the edge of the inner webs. This species is almost exactly the same as Rubigula atricapilla of Ceylon, but has not the white tips to the tail-feathers, while its long crest distinguishes it from the Ceylonese species, which is not crested. In the form of the crest and in general appearance it is almost precisely similar to R. flaviventris of Pegu and Tenasserim, but is smaller, and has the throat yellow like the rest of the under surface. The single specimen obtained was in Mr. Treacher's collection. 14. Criniger ruficrissus, sp. n. C. similis C. gutturali, sed supra ubique sordidior, supracaudalibus caudaque saturate rufescenti-brunneis; loris et regione oculari cum genis et regione parotica sordide cinereis, gula alba, corpore reliquo subtus sordide olivascente, sub caudalibus castaneis. Long. tot. 8, culm. 0·85, alæ 4·0, caudæ 4·0, tarsi 0·7. This species is not very different from C. gutturalis, but differs in its much darker coloration, especially on its under surface, which is dull olivaceous, with a white throat and chestnut-red under tail-coverts. There is an entire absence of the pale-brown colour of the breast washed with yellow, and of the light yellow abdomen and pale fawn-coloured under tail-coverts. The crest is very long in C. ruficrissus, and extends nearly to the mantle. 15. Ianthocincla treacheri, sp. n. I. similis I. mitratæ (S. Müll.), ex Sumatra, sed genis, mento et regione parotica sicut caput castaneis facile distinguenda. Long. tota 10, culminis 0·85, alæ 4·15, caudæ 4·5, tarsi 1·5. Adult. General colour above dark ashy grey, with a very slight shade of ochraceous under certain lights; the wing-coverts slightly more bluish grey than the back: quills blackish, externally bluish grey, the primaries white along the basal part of the outer web, giving the wing a conspicuous white outer aspect; tail-feathers dark slaty grey, shading into blackish at the end of the feathers; entire crown and nape, as well as the sides of face, ear-coverts, and fore part of cheeks deep chestnut-red, the under cheek-feathers slightly tipped with ochraceous; frontal plumes with lanceolate tips of light ashy grey or hoary whitish; under surface of body dull ochraceous brown, with lighter shaft-lines of pale ochraceous, imparting a striped appearance to the throat and breast; the sides of the body more ashy grey; chin chestnut, like the sides of the face; thighs dark grey, with a few chestnut feathers near the tarsal bend; under tail-coverts chestnut; under wing-coverts ashy grey, slightly marked with ochraceous; quills sepia-brown below, paler along the edge of the inner web. Four specimens are sent by Mr. Treacher, all adult, and exactly similar in plumage. On comparing them with Sumatran specimens of I. mitrata, a very marked difference presents itself, which shows that the Kina Balu bird belongs to a new species. Although similar to I. mitrata in its general coloration and white-edged quills, it is distinguished at once by its chestnut ear-coverts, while the chin and fore part of the cheeks are also chestnut. 16. Turdus pallens. Turdus pallens, Pall.; Salvad. tom. cit. p. 256. An adult specimen, sent by Mr. Treacher. 17. Monticola solitarius. Monticola solitarius (P. L. S. Müll.), Walden, Tr. Z. S. ix. p. 192. A specimen sent by Mr. Treacher. This is the second occurrence of the bird in Borneo, the first having been recorded by me under the name of Monticola pandoo (Ibis, 1877, p. 13), from Mr. Alfred Everett's Bintulu collection. Mr. Treacher's specimen is in full blue-and-red plumage, with the usual margins to the feathers found in the winter dress. For permission to use the foregoing Papers, I am under obligations to James Britten, Esq., Editor of the Journal of Botany, and to P. L. Sclater, Esq., Secretary of the Royal Zoological Society of London. NOTES [1] This last instrument closely resembles the "teponaztli," an instrument still in use by the Indians in the Cordilleras of Mexico, the deep thudding sound of which may be heard a distance of several miles. [2] "Journal of Eastern Asia." July, 1875. Trübner & Co. [3] It is curious to find that in Borneo, and elsewhere in the Malayan islands, the name "orang-utan" (literally "wild man," or, "man of the woods,") is applied not only to the large red monkey, as with us, but also to the aboriginal inhabitants of the interior. The Muruts are frequently spoken of as "orang-utan," not only by the Malays, but also by the Kadyans, a tribe of aboriginals converted to the Mahomedan faith. [4] On mountains in Borneo above 7000 feet a form of Dipteris Horsfieldii grows freely among dacrydiums, droseras, dianella, dawsonia superba, a tiny umbellifer, and other Australian types. It is dwarf, rarely above two feet high, with glaucous leathery and brittle fronds, almost silvery below. [5] "Malay Archipelago," vol. ii. p. 212. [6] "Life in the Forests of the Far East," 2d. ed., vol. i. p. 404. [7] "Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa." John Murray. 1857. [8] See Trans. Linn. Soc. n.s. i. p. 310. [9] Doubtless Haliastur intermedius. [10] These collectors accompanied Mr. Peter Veitch and myself during the first expedition to Kina Balu, undertaken in November and December, 1877. The specimens collected by them were obtained along the route from Gaya Bay to the village of Kiau (alt. 3,000 feet). They did not ascend the mountain itself, but collected around Kiau until our return.--F. W. B. 
44484	----	With the Dyaks of Borneo BY Captain Brereton =Kidnapped by Moors=: A Story of Morocco. 6_s._ =A Boy of the Dominion=: A Tale of Canadian Immigration. 5_s._ =The Hero of Panama=: A Tale of the Great Canal. 6_s._ =The Great Aeroplane=: A Thrilling Tale of Adventure. 6_s._ =A Hero of Sedan=: A Tale of the Franco-Prussian War. 6_s._ =How Canada was Won=: A Tale of Wolfe and Quebec. 6_s._ =With Wolseley to Kumasi=: The First Ashanti War. 6_s._ =Roger the Bold=: A Tale of the Conquest of Mexico. 6_s._ =Under the Chinese Dragon=: A Tale of Mongolia. 5_s._ =Indian and Scout=: A Tale of the Gold Rush to California. 5_s._ =John Bargreave's Gold=: Adventure in the Caribbean. 5_s._ =Roughriders of the Pampas=: Ranch Life in South America. 5_s._ =Jones of the 64th=: Battles of Assaye and Laswaree. 5_s._ =With Roberts to Candahar=: Third Afghan War. 5_s._ =A Hero of Lucknow=: A Tale of the Indian Mutiny. 5_s._ =A Soldier of Japan=: A Tale of the Russo-Japanese War. 5_s._ =Tom Stapleton, the Boy Scout.= 3_s._ 6_d._ =With Shield and Assegai=: A Tale of the Zulu War. 3_s._ 6_d._ =Under the Spangled Banner=: The Spanish-American War. 3_s._ 6_d._ =With the Dyaks of Borneo=: A Tale of the Head Hunters. 3_s._ 6_d._ =A Knight of St. John=: A Tale of the Siege of Malta. 3_s._ 6_d._ =Foes of the Red Cockade=: The French Revolution. 3_s._ 6_d._ =In the King's Service=: Cromwell's Invasion of Ireland. 3_s._ 6_d._ =In the Grip of the Mullah=: Adventure in Somaliland. 3_s._ 6_d._ =With Rifle and Bayonet=: A Story of the Boer War. 3_s._ 6_d._ =One of the Fighting Scouts=: Guerrilla Warfare in South Africa. 3_s._ 6_d._ =The Dragon of Pekin=: A Story of the Boxer Revolt. 3_s._ 6_d._ =A Gallant Grenadier=: A Story of the Crimean War. 3_s._ 6_d._ LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, LTD., 50 OLD BAILEY, E.C. [Illustration: THE PIRATES' STRONGHOLD] With The Dyaks of Borneo A Tale of the Head Hunters BY CAPTAIN F. S. BRERETON Author of "Kidnapped by Moors" "A Boy of the Dominion" "The Hero of Panama" "Tom Stapleton, the Boy Scout" &c. _ILLUSTRATED BY WILLIAM RAINEY, R.I_. NEW EDITION BLACKIE AND SON LIMITED LONDON GLASGOW AND BOMBAY CONTENTS CHAP. Page I. TYLER RICHARDSON 9 II. EASTWARD HO! 24 III. PREPARING FOR A JOURNEY 40 IV. A TRAITOR AND A VILLAIN 58 V. ESCAPE FROM THE SCHOONER 76 VI. COURAGE WINS THE DAY 96 VII. FLIGHT ACROSS THE LAND 116 VIII. MEETING THE DYAKS 136 IX. ON FOOT THROUGH THE JUNGLE 156 X. THE PIRATE STRONGHOLD 176 XI. A MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTER 196 XII. CAPTAIN OF A FLEET 216 XIII. THE RAJAH OF SARAWAK 236 XIV. A DANGEROUS ENTERPRISE 256 XV. OFF TO THE RIVER SABEBUS 274 XVI. HEMMED IN 294 XVII. DANGER AND DIFFICULTY 314 XVIII. A NARROW ESCAPE 334 XIX. AN ATTACK UPON THE STOCKADES 354 XX. THE END OF THE CHASE 373 ILLUSTRATIONS Page THE PIRATES' STRONGHOLD _Frontispiece_ 185 THE FIGHT AT THE STERN 78 "HE SPRANG AT TYLER" 138 THE CONFERENCE WITH THE TRIBESMEN 150 ELUDING THE PIRATES 238 "HE LAUNCHED THE MISSILE AT THEM" 296 CHAPTER I Tyler Richardson It was a balmy autumn day four years after Queen Victoria ascended the throne, and the neighbourhood of Southampton Water was looking perhaps more brilliant and more beautiful than it had during the long summer which had just passed. Already the leaves were covering the ground, and away across the water pine-trees stood up like sentinels amidst others which had already lost their covering. A dim blue haze in the distance denoted the presence of Southampton, then as now a thriving seaport town. Situated on a low eminence within some hundred yards of the sea, and commanding an extended view to either side and in front, was a tiny creeper-clad cottage with gabled roof and twisted chimneys. Behind the little residence there was a square patch of kitchen-garden, in which a grizzled, weather-beaten individual was toiling, whilst in front a long strip of turf, in which were many rose beds, extended as far as the wicket-gate which gave access to the main Portsmouth road. Seated in the picturesque porch of the cottage, with a long clay pipe between his lips, and a telescope of large dimensions beside him, was a gray-headed gentleman whose dress at once betokened that in his earlier days he had followed the sea as a calling. In spite of his sunken cheeks, and general air of ill-health, no one could have mistaken him for other than a sailor; and if there had been any doubt the clothes he wore would have at once settled the question. But Captain John Richardson, to give him his full title, was proud of the fact that he had at one time belonged to the royal navy, and took particular pains to demonstrate it to all with whom he came in contact. It was a little vanity for which he might well be excused, and, besides, he was such a genial good-natured man that no one would have thought of blaming him. On this particular day some question of unusual importance seemed to be absorbing the captain's whole attention. His eyes had a far-away expression, his usually wrinkled brow was puckered in an alarming manner, and the lips, between which rested the stem of his clay pipe, were pursed up in the most thoughtful position. Indeed, so much was he occupied that he forgot even to pull at his smoke, and in consequence the tobacco had grown cold. "That's the sixth time!" he suddenly exclaimed, with a muttered expression of disgust, awaking suddenly from his reverie. "I've used nearly half the box of matches already, and that is an extravagance which I cannot afford. No, John Richardson, matches are dear to you at least, for you are an unfortunate dog with scarcely enough to live on, and with nothing in your pocket to waste. But I'd forego many little luxuries, and willingly cut down my expenditure, if only I could see a way of settling this beggarly question. For three years and more it has troubled me, and I'm as far now from a solution as I was when the matter first cropped up. There's Frank, my brother at Bristol, who has offered his help, and I fully realize his kindness; but I am sure that his plan will fail to satisfy the boy. That's where the difficulty comes. The lad's so full of spirit, so keen to follow his father's profession, that he would eat his heart out were I to send him to Bristol, but what else can I suggest as a future for him?" Once more Captain John Richardson became absorbed in thought, and, leaning back against the old oak beam which supported the porch, became lost to his surroundings. So lost indeed that he failed to hear the creak of the wicket, while his dim eye failed to see the youth who came striding towards him. But a moment later, catching sight of the figure screened amidst the creepers in the porch, the young fellow gave vent to a shout which thoroughly awakened the sailor. "Sitting in your usual place, Father, and keeping an eye upon every foot of Southampton Water. Why, you are better even than the coast-guard, and must know every ship which sails into or out of the docks." "Ay, and the port from which she set out or to which she's bound in very many cases," answered the captain with a smile, beckoning to his son to seat himself beside him in the porch. "And talking of ships reminds me, my lad, to broach a certain subject to you. A big overgrown fellow like yourself, with calves and arms which would have been my admiration had I possessed them when I was your age, should be doing something more than merely amusing himself. You've the future to look to, your bread and butter to earn, and how d'you mean to set about it? Come, every young man should have his choice of a calling, though I think that his parent or guardian should be at hand to aid him in his selection. What do you propose to do?" Captain Richardson once more leaned back against the oaken prop and surveyed his son, while he slowly abstracted a match from a box which he produced from a capacious pocket, and set a light to his pipe once more. "Come, sonny," he continued, "in a couple of years you will be almost a man, and you are as strong as many already. You were seventeen three months ago, and since that date you have amused yourself without hindrance from me. But your playtime must come to an end. Your father is too poor to keep you longer at school, and has so little money that he can give you nothing but his good wishes towards your future." For more than a minute there was silence in the porch, while Tyler Richardson stared out across the neat stretch of turf at the dancing water beyond, evidently weighing the words to which the captain had given vent. That he was strong and sturdy no one could deny. This was no little vanity on the part of his father, but a fact which was apparent to any who glanced at the lad. Seated there with his cap dangling from his fingers, and the sunlight streaming through the creepers on to his figure, one saw a youth whose rounded features bore an unmistakable likeness to those possessed by the captain. But there the resemblance ceased altogether; for Tyler's ruddy cheeks and sparkling eyes betokened an abundance of good health, while his lithe and active limbs, the poise of his head, and the breadth of his shoulders, showed that he was a young man who delighted in plenty of exercise, and to whom idleness was in all probability irksome. Then, too, there was an expression upon his face which told almost as plainly as could words that he was possessed of ambition, and that though he had at present nothing to seriously occupy his attention, yet that, once his vocation was found, he was determined to follow it up with all eagerness. "I know the matter troubles you, Dad," he said, suddenly turning to his father, "and I know what difficulties there are. Were it not so my answer would be given in a moment, for what was good enough for my father is a fine profession for me. The wish of my life is to enter the royal navy." "And your father's also. If I saw some way in which I could obtain a commission for you, why, my lad, you should have it to-morrow, but there!" (And the captain held out his palms and shrugged his shoulders to show how helpless he was.) "You know as well as I do that I cannot move a finger to help you in that direction. I must not grumble, but for all that, your father has been an unfortunate dog. I entered the service as full of eagerness as a lad might well be. I was strong and healthy in those days, and the open life appealed to my nature. Then came an unlucky day; a round-shot, fired from one of the French forts which our ships were blockading, struck me on the hip, fracturing the bone badly. You are aware of this. I barely escaped with my life, and for months remained upon the sick-list. Then, seeing that I was useless upon a ship, the Lords of the Admiralty gave me a shore billet, and for two years I struggled wearily to perform the work. But the old wound crippled me, and was a constant source of trouble, so that in the end I was pensioned off, and retired to this cottage to spend the remainder of my life. I'm a worn-out hulk, Tyler, and that's the truth. Had I remained on the active list I should no doubt have made many friends to whom I could have applied at this moment. Perhaps even were I to state the facts to the Admiralty they would find a commission for you, but then my means are too small to equip you for the life, and you would start so badly that your future might be ruined. But there is Frank, your uncle, who lives at Bristol, and conducts a large trade with foreign parts; we never had much in common, but for all that have always been excellent friends, and on more than one occasion he has suggested that you might go to him and take a post in his warehouse. If that did not suit you, he would apprentice you to one of his ships, and the life for which you long would be before you. There, I have told you everything, and seeing that I cannot obtain a commission for you in the royal navy, I urge upon you to consider your uncle's proposition seriously. Who knows, it may mean a great future. He is childless, and might select you as his successor; and, if not that, he would at least push on your fortunes and interest himself on your behalf." Once more the old sea-captain leaned back in his seat and groped wearily for his matches, while he fixed a pair of anxious eyes upon his son. As for the latter, he still remained looking steadily out across the water, as if searching for an answer from the numerous vessels which floated there. At last, however, he rose to his feet and replaced the cap upon his head. "It's a big matter to settle," he said shortly, "and, as you say, I had better consider it thoroughly. I'll give you my answer to-morrow, Father, and I feel sure that I shall do as you wish. Every day I see the necessity of doing something for my living, and as the navy is out of the question I must accept the next best thing which comes along. I should be an ungrateful beggar if I did not realize the kindness of my uncle's offer, and if I decide to take advantage of it, you may be sure that I shall do my best to please him in every particular. And now I will get off to Southampton, for there is a big ship lying there which I am anxious to see. She's full of grain, and hails from America." Nodding to the captain, Tyler turned and strolled down the garden. Then, placing one hand lightly upon the gate-post, he vaulted over the wicket and disappeared behind a dense mass of hedge which hid the dusty road from view. A moment or two later his father could hear him as he ran in the direction of Southampton. Half an hour later Tyler found himself amidst a maze of shipping, with which the harbour was filled, and at once sought out the vessel of which he had spoken. She was a big three-master, and lay moored alongside the dock, with a derrick and shears erected beside her. A couple of gangways led on to her decks, while a notice was slung in the rigging giving warning to all and sundry that strangers were not admitted upon the ship. A few minutes before Tyler arrived at his destination the stevedores had knocked off work in order to partake of their dinner, whilst the hands on board had retired to their quarters for the same purpose. In fact, but for one of the officers, who strolled backwards and forwards on the dock-side, the deck of the ship was deserted, and Tyler could have gone on board without a soul to oppose him. But he knew the ways of shipping people, for scarcely a day passed without his paying a visit to the harbour. Indeed, so great was his love of the sea that during the last three months he had spent the greater part of his time at the docks, and, being a cheerful, gentle-mannered young fellow, had made many friends amongst the officers and crew of the various vessels which had put in there with cargoes for the port. Without hesitation, therefore, he accosted the mate, who was strolling up and down upon the quay. "May I go aboard?" he asked. "I hear that you carry a cargo of grain, and I'm anxious to see how it's loaded." "Then you've come at the right moment, sir," was the answer. "Step right aboard, and look round as much as you want. We've been terrible hard at work these last two days getting a cargo of cotton ashore, and now we've just hove up the lower hatches, and shall be taking the grain out of her when dinner's finished. It's come all this way for your naval johnnies--at least that's what the boss has given me to understand; and we are expecting a party of officers along any moment to take a look at the stuff. I suppose they'll pass it right away, for it's good right down to the keel. Then these fellows will tackle it with shovels and bags, and you will see they'll hoist it up in a twinkling. Helloo! Blessed if that ain't the party coming along this way!" He turned, and indicated his meaning by a nod of his head in the direction of three smartly-dressed naval officers who had just put in an appearance. "The party right enough," he said. "Just excuse me, sir, and get right aboard if you care to." Having obtained permission to go aboard, Tyler at once stepped to the gangway, and was quickly upon the deck. Then he went to the hatchway, which occupied a large square in the centre of the vessel, and leant over the combing so as to obtain a good view of the scene below. Beneath was a lower deck and a second hatchway of similar dimensions, the covering of which had evidently been recently removed. A glance showed him that the hold was filled with loose grain to within some six feet of the hatchway, and he was occupied in wondering how many sacks of corn had been necessary to fill it, when he was aroused by a voice at his elbow. Turning swiftly, he found the three naval officers and the mate standing beside him. "A fine cargo, and in splendid condition," the latter was saying. "We've just hove up the hatches for your inspection, and that's the way down." He pointed to a perpendicular ladder which led from the upper hatch to the one below, and stepped aside to allow the officers to approach it. At the same moment Tyler caught the eye of the elder of the three naval gentlemen, and at once, standing erect, he raised his hand as his father had long since taught him to do. "Ah, the correct salute, and I thank you for it!" said the officer, acknowledging it swiftly. "Where did you learn it, my lad? I can see that you have been taught by someone who was no landsman." "My father, Captain Richardson, late of the royal navy, instructed me, sir. He lives close at hand, and would spend his days here upon the docks were it not that he is crippled and cannot get about." "By a gun-shot wound--obtained in warfare?" asked the officer with interest. "Yes, sir. He was struck by a round-shot fired from a French fort, and was pensioned from the service." "That is sad, very unfortunate," said the officer; "but his son must take his place, and repay the wound with interest when we have war with France again. But I must see to this cargo. This is one of the many duties which we sailors have to perform. At one time sailing a three-master, and then conning one of the new steam-vessels which have been added to our fleets. Another day we muster ashore, and then an officer can never say what he may find before him. He may have to visit the hospitals, the barracks, or inspect a delivery of hammocks before it is divided amongst the men. To-day we are here to see this cargo of grain, and to pass it if in good condition." "Which it is, right away down to the keel, you guess!" burst in the American mate. "Say, sir, there's the ladder, and if you'll excuse me, the sooner the inspection's done with the sooner we'll clear the hold and get away out to sea." "Then oblige me by slipping down, Mr. Maxwell, and you too, Mr. Troutbeck. Take one of those wooden spades with you, and turn the grain over in every direction. Be careful to see that it is not mildewed or affected by the damp. You can bring a specimen on deck for my benefit." Hastily saluting, the two officers who had been addressed sprang towards the steep gangway which led below, and swarmed down it with an agility which was commendable. Then they paused for a moment or two upon the edge of the lower hatch until a wooden spade had been tossed to them, when they leapt upon the glistening mass of grain which filled the hold. Meanwhile Tyler and the officer who had remained above stood leaning over the upper hatch, looking down upon the figures below. Indeed, the former was fascinated, for the sight of a naval uniform filled him with delight, while to be able to watch officers at their work was a treat which he would not have missed for anything. It was queer to see the way in which the younger of the two juniors tossed his cane aside with a merry laugh and commenced to delve with the spade; and still more quaint to watch the second as he thrust his two hands into the corn, and, having withdrawn them filled to the brim, walked towards the edge of the hatch with the intention of spreading the grains there the better to inspect them. But--that was stranger still, for, missing his footing, the officer gave a violent swerve, and with difficulty saved himself from tumbling full length. The sight, the exclamation of astonishment and disgust, brought a smile to Tyler's lips; but a second later his expression changed to one of amazement. Why, the officer had again all but lost his footing, and--yes, as Tyler stared down at him, he staggered to one side, threw one hand up to his face, and then collapsed in a heap, where he lay with hands and toes half-buried in the corn. Almost at the same moment his companion, who had been digging vigorously, let his spade drop from his fingers, and looked about him as if dazed. Then he struggled towards his comrade with a low cry of alarm, only to stumble himself and come crashing into the grain. "There's something wrong down there!" shouted Tyler, realizing that some terrible misfortune had suddenly and unexpectedly overtaken the naval officers. "Look, sir, they are on their faces, and appear to be insensible!" He tugged at the sleeve of the senior officer without ceremony, and directed his attention to those below, for the former had been engaged in conversation with the mate, and had not witnessed what had happened. "Something wrong!" he exclaimed in astonishment. "Why, what could be wrong? Ahoy, there, Troutbeck and Maxwell! Why, they are on their faces, and, as I live, they are insensible!" His amazement was so great that he stood there dumbfounded, and stared at Tyler as though he could not believe his eyes. But a shout of alarm from the mate quickly aroused him. "It's the gas!" he cried in shrill anxious tones. "Quick, or they'll be suffocated! Hi, for'ard there! All hands on deck to the rescue!" He went racing towards the quarters in which the men were enjoying their meal, leaving Tyler and the naval officer alone. As for the latter, his astonishment was still so great that he remained rooted to the spot, leaning over the hatchway, the combing of which he grasped with both hands, whilst he stared down at the two prostrate figures huddled below upon the corn as though the sight was too much for him. Then he suddenly stood erect and screwed his knuckles into his eyes, as though he feared that they were misleading him. "Gas!" he murmured doubtfully. "What gas? How could there be such a thing down there?" Then, suddenly recollecting the condition of his juniors, and realizing that they were in the gravest danger, he sprang towards the ladder which led to the hold below, and commenced to descend it as rapidly as possible. But Tyler was before him, for though dumbfounded at first at what was beyond his comprehension, the shout to which the mate had given vent had instantly caused him to understand the danger of the situation. There was gas in the hold, some poisonous vapour unseen by those who entered through the hatchway, but lying there floating over the corn ready to attack any who might enter into the trap. What should he do? The question flashed through his mind like lightning, and as quickly the answer came. "We must get them out of it," he shouted hoarsely, "and by the quickest way too. Hi, there, get hold of the winch and lower away!" As in the case of the officer who had stood beside him, his first thought had been to rush for the ladder, and to descend to the hatch below by that means. But a quick glance at the figures lying half-buried in the corn, and an instant's reflection, told him that rescue would be difficult, if not impossible, in that way. For, supposing he leapt from the lowest rung on to the cargo of grain, could he hope to be able to lift one of the victims and carry him up the steep ladder which led to safety? Such an attempt would require more than double the strength which he possessed, and besides there was the deadly gas to be reckoned with. Like a flash the thoughts swept through his brain, for Tyler was a sharp young fellow, and ere another moment had passed his plan for rescue was formed. Pointing to the winch, from which a stout rope ran through a block attached to the boom above, and from thence dangled down into the hold, he called to the mate, who now came running along the deck with three of the hands, to get hold of the levers and prepare to work upon them. Then, tearing his handkerchief from his pocket, he hastily tied it round his face, fastening the knot behind his head as tightly as possible, so that the thickest folds came across his mouth and nostrils. A moment later he had grasped the rope which hung at one side of the hatchway, and at once passed it around his waist. A rapid hitch which his father had taught him secured it there, and a moment later he had thrust himself over the hatchway and was swinging in mid-air. "Lower away!" he shouted, "and when you see me pass the loop round one of them, hoist as fast as you can. Now, let her go!" Grasping the length of rope which dangled beneath him, and which he had been careful to leave, he tied it into a strong loop as the men above lowered him into the hold. Then, holding it in both hands, he awaited the moment when he should alight upon the corn. Ah! He was there, and his feet were already sunk ankle-deep in the cargo. Then he became aware of the fact that, though perfectly clear, the atmosphere was stifling. He felt as though he were choking, for in spite of the thick handkerchief about his face the biting gas seemed to fly into his lungs, and at once set him coughing violently. But, determined not to be beaten, he overcame the spasm, and, carefully holding his breath, moved towards one of the prostrate figures. It was no easy matter to pass the loop around the helpless man, but Tyler worked vigorously at the task. Placing the coil of rope upon the corn close to the feet of one of the officers, he held it there with one toe, and at once grasped the man by the ankles. A lusty heave brought him sliding along through the grain, and scarcely three seconds had passed before the loop was about his body and securely fastened beneath his arms. "Hoist!" he endeavoured to shout, but his muffled face and the choking gas deadened the words. But for all that, his wishes were clear to those above, who stood staring over the hatchway, for Tyler stood erect and waved eagerly to them. There was a shout, the rope tautened, and then at first slowly, and afterwards with a rush which showed that willing hands were at the winch, Tyler and the officer for whose rescue he had so gallantly descended were hoisted out of the hold. With a swing the boom was brought towards the side, a couple of men rushed at the dangling figures, and ere the naval officer who witnessed the scene had time to give the hoarse command, "Lower away!" the two were lying upon the deck, while the mate of the freight-ship was eagerly removing the loop from the figure of the unconscious officer. As for Tyler, he sat for a short space as if dazed, while he gasped and struggled for his breath. But the knowledge that one victim still remained below, that a second life was at stake, roused him to energy. With a shiver which he could not suppress in spite of every effort, he struggled to his feet and dashed at the hatchway. "Lower again!" he managed to call out between the paroxysms of coughing which shook him. "Now, let go!" There was no doubt that the real danger, the urgency of the situation, was impressed upon all who were helping in the rescue; and it did not need the frantic gestures and husky words of command of the elderly naval officer to stimulate the hands to rapid action. By now, too, some fifteen men had assembled, and while a few promptly carried the unconscious officer aside, and set about to restore his animation, the remainder at once leapt to the winch, and set the handles whirling round at such a pace that the rope and its burden were swiftly at their destination. At the same instant the American mate swung himself on to the ladder and went swarming down till he reached the deck below, where he remained ready to lend assistance should he be called for. And well was it that he did so, for that stifling gas well-nigh overcame Tyler in his work of rescue. Holding his breath as he had done before, the latter dashed towards the second prostrate figure once he had obtained a foothold. Then, following the same tactics, he placed the loop in position and grasped the man by his ankles. "Heave! Pull ho!" As if the words would help the gallant young fellow below, the anxious watchers above gave vent to them, their shouts increasing almost to shrieks of encouragement in their eagerness. "Heave! He's almost through. Once more, and you will have him in position. Ah! he's down!" A feeling of consternation and dismay suddenly silenced the voices, and a crowd of eager, anxious faces hung over the hatchway, while a couple of volunteers sprang at the ladder. "Stand aside!" shouted one of them huskily, a big, raw-boned American sailor. "The lad's down, and we're not the boys to stand here looking on and see him die. Say, maties, pitch me the end of the rope, and I'll go in for him!" Swiftly descending the ladder, he had almost reached the deck below, and was looking eagerly about him for the expected rope, when another voice reached the ears of the onlookers. "Easy there! I'm nearest the spot, and I'll pull them out, whatever the cost. Jim Bowman, you can make a turn about your body with the rope, and stand ready if there's need. I'm for it right away as I am." Stuffing a bulky red handkerchief between his teeth, the mate glanced swiftly at his comrade to see that the words were fully understood. Then with a bound he leapt over the low combing of the hatchway, and alighted on the piled-up corn. "He'll do it! He's the right man to tackle the business! Stand ready, boys!" Those above stared down at the scene below with eyes which threatened to burst from their sockets, so great was each one's eagerness. And all the while, as the plucky mate tugged at the prostrate figure of the officer, they sent hoarse shouts echoing down into the hold. Breathlessly they watched as the loop slipped upwards till it encircled the body, and then a dozen lusty individuals rushed towards the winch, ready to lend a hand should those already stationed there prove too weak for the task. "Hoist!" The big American, who stood on the lower deck, bellowed the command so loudly that it was heard far away along the dock "Hoist smartly, boys!" Round went the winch, but on this occasion less swiftly than before, for the load to be dragged from the hold was heavier! But still the handles flew round rapidly, and within a short space of time Tyler, the officer, and the American mate lay in a heap upon the deck, where they were instantly pounced upon by those who had helped in the rescue. CHAPTER II Eastward Ho! How's that, my lad? There, open your eyes and look about you, and then take a sip at this glass." Tyler felt a strong arm about his shoulders, and a hard rim of something cold against his teeth. Then a few drops of water flowed into his mouth, and instantly he was awake, though only half conscious of his surroundings. "Eh," he murmured, "what's the matter? Time to get up? Oh!" He gave vent to a little cry of pain as he suddenly became aware of the fact that a red-hot band seemed to encircle his waist. Then he quickly realized the cause, and sat up with a start, remembering that he had placed a coil of rope about him, and that the loop to which the officer was hung must have pulled strongly upon him. "Feeling sore, my lad?" was asked in tones which seemed familiar. "The rope had hitched as tight as a hangman's noose, and we had to cut it adrift before we could free you. No wonder you have pain, for I expect that your sides and chest are badly chafed. But you're alive, thank God! And have come to at last. Gracious! What a fright you have given us all! But come, see if you cannot stand on your feet and walk about, for it will do you all the good in the world." "Stand! Rather! I should think I could!" responded Tyler eagerly, suddenly becoming aware of the fact that the elderly naval officer supported him. "Thank you, sir! I'll get up at once." "Then heave, and there you are." Placing his hand beneath Tyler's arms, the officer helped him to rise to his feet, and then, fearful lest he should be giddy and fall, stood beside him holding him by the coat. "Feel steady?" he asked. "A bit shaky, I've no doubt, but another sip and a little water on your head will put you right. Here, one of you lads give a hand and we'll take him to the nearest pump." There was a group of sailors standing around watching Tyler with interested eyes, and instantly a number sprang forward to support him. Then with faltering steps, and gait which would have caused him to reel from side to side had it not been for their help, they led him across the dock to a shed some little distance away. A pump was erected beside it, and before many seconds had passed a stream of ice-cold water was gushing from the spout into the trough below. "Now, off with his coat and shirt, and one of you boys hop right along to fetch him a towel," cried the big American, who happened to form one of the party. "Slick's the word, my lad, and back with it smartly. Here, stand right aside, and let me hold on to the youngster." A big, muscular arm was put around Tyler's tottering figure, and he was deftly placed in such a position as would enable the water to flow upon his head and shoulders. Gush! It came surging from the pump at the handle of which one of the men worked vigorously, and in a little while Tyler was glad to withdraw with dripping head and face, gasping for breath with almost as much energy as had been the case after his first ascent from the hold. Then a towel was thrown over his shoulders, and willing hands set to work to dry him. "Feel more like yourself, eh? Just bring along that comb, sonny, and we'll fix him up, proper," said the American. "Now, on with your shirt and coat, and where's the boy that's holding on to his cap?" Their friendly attentions almost bewildered Tyler, for he was unused to them, and, in fact, at another time would have blushed for shame at finding himself treated so much like a child. But in spite of the cold douche to his head he still felt dizzy. His brain swam with the effects of the choking gas, which had been given off by the cargo of corn, while huge black spots seemed to float dreamily about in the air and disturbed his vision. Then, too, though he manfully endeavoured to keep his figure erect, his legs would tremble in spite of himself, while his knees shook and knocked together in a manner which threatened to bring him headlong to the ground. "I'm a baby!" he managed to gasp in tones of vexation. "Just fancy a fellow of my age not being able to stand up alone!" The thought distressed him so greatly that once again he made a futile effort to remain on his feet, only to find himself in much the same helpless condition. Then a biscuit-box was placed beneath him, and he sat down with a feeling of relief. "Baby! No sich thing, let me tell you, sir!" exclaimed the big American indignantly. "You're just shook up, and that's the truth of it, for I reckon that that 'ere gas wur strong enough to upset a Red Injun, and much more a chap of your constitootion. Jest you sit tight and hold on to your tongue while we pour a few drops of this stuff down yer throat. Baby! Ho!" With a shake of his head the big sailor turned to one of his comrades and took from him a cracked glass containing a dark and evil-smelling liquid. "Up with your chin," he said, placing the glass to Tyler's lips. "Now, down with this at a gulp." Obedient to the order, Tyler opened his mouth and swallowed the draught. Then he shivered again, for the spirit was strong and pungent. But in spite of its nasty flavour, and of the uncomfortable sense of burning which it left in his throat, he was bound to confess that the draught did wonders for him. Indeed, scarcely five minutes were gone before strength came back to his legs, while his brain and eyes seemed to have cleared wonderfully. A pat on the back from the big hand of the American encouraged him to stand again, and with a gay laugh he found himself on his feet. "That's better!" he exclaimed in cheery tones. "What's become of the officers?" "I reckon they're jest like you, a trifle shook up and put out, don't yer know," was the answer. "Yer must understand, young fellah, that chaps can't go right down into a hold what's full of that gas without feeling mighty bad. You've all had a near squeak for yer lives, I reckon, and ef it hadn't er been for you, young shaver, them two officers would have been awaiting their funeral right now. I tell yer, me and the other covies is jest hoping to make yer acquaintance. We'd be proud to get hold of yer fingers, and, Jehoshaphat! as soon as you're well we hope to do it. Now, will yer come aboard and take a sleep in one of our bunks, to drive the muddle out of yer head, or will yer go slick away home? Jest say the word, and we'll help you, whatever's the case." "One moment, please. I desire to speak to this young gentleman," called someone from outside the circle, and as the sailors sprang aside the naval officer who had already befriended Tyler entered the circle and grasped the latter warmly by the hand. "You are more yourself now," he said with a friendly smile, "and I can therefore speak to you as I would have done half an hour ago had you been in a fit condition to listen to me. On behalf of the two young officers, whose lives you so gallantly saved, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. The deed was a noble one, for, seeing their insensible figures lying in that poisonous hold below, you, like everyone else, must have realized instantly the great risk to be incurred by attempting their rescue. The warning which the mate gave told you that gas lay below the hatchway, and that it had been the cause of striking down my officers. In spite of that you rushed to help them, and I must admit that the promptness of your action, the remarkable rapidity with which you took in the situation and formed your plans, filled me with amazement. To be candid, I myself was so dumbfounded and taken aback that I stood there helpless. But then, you see, I am no longer a young man, and have lost that keenness with which the junior members of my service are invariably filled. "Now that I come to look into the facts carefully it is a matter of surprise to me that you did not rush to the ladder the instant you realized the necessity for action. But how could you possibly have rescued either of those unfortunate fellows by that means? Obviously two men at least would have been required for the task. You saw that, and at once decided upon an easier and more effective plan. No one could have made his preparations more completely or more rapidly. Your loops were made in a sailor-like manner which does credit to your father's teaching. For the rest, I am too full of gratitude to you to say much at this moment. Your courage and resolution have delighted me and I congratulate you most heartily." Placing one hand upon Tyler's shoulder the officer grasped his fingers eagerly with the other, and squeezed them in a manner which showed better than words how much his feelings were aroused. Indeed he might have remained there for many minutes, patting Tyler gently upon the back meanwhile, had it not been for the enthusiastic sailors who stood around, and who had without exception pressed eagerly forward to hear what he had to say. Seeing his final action, however, at once reminded them of their own decision, expressed by their burly comrade, who once more came to the front. "You'll excuse us, Admiral," he said with a slouching salute, "but like you we're firm set on shaking. Say, young fellow, we're proud to know yer." Unabashed by the presence of an officer of such seniority in the navy, they crowded forward, and each in turn grasped the blushing Tyler by the hand. Then, as if that had been insufficient to satisfy them, they tossed their caps high in the air, and gave him three rousing cheers. "There," said the officer, lifting his hands as soon as the shout had died down, "like myself you have shown your appreciation; and now, if you will leave this young gentleman to me, I will see that he is taken home. Come," he continued, turning to Tyler with a smile, "you are still shaken and feel the effects of that poisonous gas. It will be as well if you return to your father, and rest for the remainder of the day. Hail a conveyance, my lads, and tell the man to drive right on to the dock, for we must not allow this young man to walk too much at present. Yes, those are the doctor's orders, and I am here to see that they are strictly enforced," he went on, as Tyler directed an appealing glance towards him. "Fortunately for you and my two officers, one of our ship's surgeons happened to be passing as you were hauled up from the hold, and he was able to attend to you at once. Seeing that you were coming round he left you in my hands and devoted all his care to the others, who were in a very grave condition. They, too, I am thankful to say, have regained consciousness, so that I no longer feel anxiety on their behalf. Permit me, young gentleman, here is the conveyance." Taking Tyler by the arm, he led him to a fly which had just driven up, and having ushered him in, took the remaining vacant seat himself. "Drive to Captain John Richardson's," he called out, and then resumed his conversation with Tyler, telling him as they went that the mate of the American ship, who had pluckily helped in the rescue, had suffered no ill effects. Half an hour later, much to the astonishment of the captain, who still sat in his porch keeping watch upon the long strip of water which ebbed before his cottage, a conveyance came rolling along the main Portsmouth road, and halted just opposite the wicket which gave access to his garden. At once his spy-glass went to his eyes, for he was somewhat short-sighted, and his amazement was profound when he discovered Tyler walking towards him, looking pale and shaky, and arm in arm with a gray-headed naval officer. Had it not been for his shattered hip he would have risen to his feet to greet the new-comer, for naval officers seldom or never came his way. As he had said when speaking to his son, he was a poor old hulk, doomed to live in that out-of-the-way spot, forgotten or unknown by men who might have been his comrades had ill-luck not assailed him. In his excitement, the clay pipe and box of matches went tumbling to the ground, where the former smashed into a hundred pieces. Then the old instincts of discipline came back to him and he lifted his hand to his cap with all the smartness he could command. It was fine to see the way in which this stranger approached the captain. Halting there for one moment, and drawing himself stiffly erect, he returned the salute swiftly. Then he sprang forward and greeted the old sailor effusively. "Proud to meet you, Captain Richardson!" he exclaimed. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, and to know the father of this gallant young fellow. But, surely we have met before? Richardson? Tell me, sir, when did you enter the service?" "Forty years ago the fifth of November next. Midshipman aboard the flag-ship _Victory_, bound from Portsmouth for the Mediterranean. And you?" "An old ship-mate of yours or I much mistake?" exclaimed the officer with eagerness. "Don't you remember Davies--Tom Davies, of the _Victory_--my first commission too. Why, of course you do. A year after I joined I was drafted into another ship, and so we were separated, and have remained so until this moment." "And I remained aboard for five solid years," burst in the captain enthusiastically, his face all aglow at the recollection of his earlier days. "Then I was transferred to the _Bellerophon_, and again to another ship. We cruised in the East, and many's the brush we had with rascally slave-dealers. Then came war with France, and, returning to home waters, we coasted along the enemy's country, popping in here and there to survey the forts, and dropping upon any vessels that we could come across. At Brest we were under a heavy fire, and that, sir, was the time when the rascals winged me with a shot. It broke me up, and as a consequence of the wound I was laid aside for good in this old cottage." As the two spoke they still gripped hands, while tears of excitement and happiness streamed down the sunken cheeks of the captain. Poor fellow! It was joy indeed to him to meet a comrade after all these years, and still greater happiness to find himself conversing with a man still upon the active list of the service to which he had belonged. For many years now he had occupied that cottage, and owing to the wound which had crippled him had seldom moved beyond the garden. Occasionally the old salt who lived with him, and acted as his only servant, placed him tenderly in a wheeled chair, and took him for an airing. But Southampton was beyond his reach, and Portsmouth utterly out of the question, and so it had fallen out that the captain had on very few occasions met with officers of the royal navy. A few who had retired lived in the neighbourhood, but they were active men, able to get about, and seldom dropped in for a chat at the cottage. Therefore this unexpected visit, the meeting with a man who had skylarked with him when they were lads, roused him out of his melancholy, and raised his spirits to the highest. Seating himself beside Captain Richardson, Admiral Davies,--for that was the rank to which the officer had attained,--conversed with him in animated tones for more than half an hour, telling him of the rescue from the hold, and of the gallant conduct of his son. "I am thankful that it occurred to me to visit the shipping myself," he said. "As a rule two officers would have been considered sufficient for the task, and it is most unusual for one of my rank to undertake such a duty. However, on this occasion I felt bound to go, for the Lords of the Admiralty are trying an experiment. The greater part of their flour is home-grown, but prices are high, and England is not a large corn-growing country. For that reason cargoes have been ordered from America, and when the ships arrive a careful inspection of the grain is necessary. Had that not been the case I should have remained in my office, for I am in charge of the station, and thereby should have lost this opportunity of renewing our friendship. But about your son; have you decided what to do with him? He is a fine young fellow, and would look well in naval uniform." "And he himself longs for the life," exclaimed the captain. "Though I myself had the worst of fortune in the service, and in spite of the fact that their lordships have not treated me too well, I still think that there is nothing like a commission in Her Majesty's fleet. But it is out of the question, for to obtain a nomination nowadays influence is required, and also I have not the means to supply the proper outfit. The lad would be miserable, for he would not have a sixpence to jingle in his pocket, and would have the mortification of living with comrades who were better off than himself. And besides, he is too old. To have obtained a commission I should have applied three or four years ago. Now he is seventeen, and almost a man." "In pluck and resolution he is at any rate," said the admiral warmly, "and he deserves far more than words of thanks for his gallant action of this morning. Now listen to me. I like the lad, and, as in your case, I too am devoted to the navy. I have by chance come across a young fellow eminently fitted for the service, and I shall not stand aside and allow Her Majesty to lose the opportunity of obtaining such a suitable young officer. As your son he has a claim on the Admiralty, and when I describe to their lordships the manner in which he rescued two of my officers they will at once waive all question of his age, and I feel sure will promptly appoint him to a ship. But influence, as you very truly say, is necessary to push a young man on in the world. I do not mean that a midshipman cannot fight his way upwards without friends, for that has been done on scores of occasions; but it gives a lad a better chance if he is put under the eye of some commander who will take an interest in him. Then he will get opportunities of special duties, and if he is a smart lad he may distinguish himself. Will you leave the matter in my hands, and trust to me to do the best for him? I would take him myself, as I have a decided interest in him, but then, as I have told you, I have a shore billet, and his duties would give him but few chances of promotion. He must be appointed to a ship cruising in foreign waters, and he must be placed under an officer who is a friend of my own. There will be no difficulty about the matter, for one of the rescued officers happens to be of excellent family, and a son of one of the sea-lords. He will see to it that the commission is granted, and I have little doubt that within a few weeks I shall be able to return to you with the information that your son is appointed to the China squadron, and under the friendly wing of Keppel, a smart young officer with whom I am well acquainted. There, say no more, for I see that you fully agree. Good-bye for the present! I shall hope to have the pleasure of calling again." Rising from his seat the admiral squeezed the captain's hand, and then, having gone through the formality of saluting, an act of courtesy which pleased his host vastly, he walked with Tyler towards the gate, one hand placed affectionately on his shoulder. It would be impossible to describe the delight and happiness with which each inhabitant of the tiny cottage was filled at the good news which the admiral had brought. Captain Richardson could scarcely contain himself for joy, and but for the hip which crippled him would have strutted about the place puffed up with pride at the action of his son. As for Tyler, the prospect of a commission was so fascinating and so absolutely unexpected that he felt in a whirl, and, finding conversation impossible, snatched at his cap and went bounding along the great main road. A month later, as the captain occupied his accustomed seat in the porch of the cottage, a cloud of dust and the clatter of wheels attracted his attention in the direction of Southampton, and instantly up went his spy-glass, one hand steadied the end, and he looked casually to see what might have caused it; for to this poor crippled officer anything, each conveyance which passed, was of interest, and served to brighten the long days. He was familiar with each of the coaches which drove along the main road, the drivers in every case saluting him with their whips as they came rattling by, and no doubt turning the next moment to the passengers seated upon the box to describe the old salt who occupied the cottage. On this occasion, however, it was no coach which had given rise to the cloud of dust, but a smaller conveyance, at the sight of which the captain was thrown into a condition of excitement. "There's not more than one which passes here in a week," he said, "and for that reason I am sure that that will be the admiral. Tyler! Tyler! Where are you? Just run down to the gate and be ready to meet him." It proved to be the admiral, as he had prophesied, and within a little while that officer was standing before him, greeting him with a hearty shake of the hand, and looking at him with a smile the sereneness of which told that he had been successful. Behind him stepped the same two officers who had been rescued from the hold, and these at once came forward to be introduced. Then they turned to Tyler and gripped his hand in a manner which showed their gratitude. "For you," said the admiral, suddenly producing a long blue envelope, and handing it to Tyler. "I will save you the trouble of reading it by telling you that you have been given a commission, and that orders are enclosed within for you to sail without delay for the China station. Your post will be on H.M.S. _Dido_, and your commander will be the Honourable Henry Keppel, Captain in the Royal Navy. And now, if you will kindly show my officers over the garden, I will discuss a little matter with your father. "I have more to say," he went on, addressing Tyler's father, when the three had moved away, "and my news, I hope, will give you great pleasure. When I left you I went straight to those in authority and represented matters as I had found them. They agreed with me that it was a scandal and a shame that an officer should be treated as you have been. I pointed out that your pension was insufficient, with the result that it has been largely increased, and will enable you to reside, if you wish it, in a more populated district. Another point, you can now see your way to giving your son a small allowance, and so putting him upon an equal footing with his comrades. Then, too, I propose to help, for I am a single man, and my pay is of ample dimensions. I have taken a liking to the lad, and I mean to push his fortunes to the utmost. And now let us consider the question of his outfit, which must be gone into immediately. He will require uniform suited to this climate and also to the China seas, and must be equipped as well as the most fortunate of youngsters. That, again, I shall make my business if you have no objections, for you must recollect that you cannot easily see to the matter yourself, and, besides, it would gratify me to be allowed to provide all that is necessary. Unfortunately it turns out that no ship belonging to our fleets is bound for the East at this moment, and therefore Tyler will have to make the passage in a merchantman. But that will do no harm, for it will give him an opportunity of getting used to the sea, and will prepare him for his coming duties." "Quite so," gasped the invalid captain, scarcely able to believe the good words to which he had been listening, or to understand the sudden change in his fortunes. "But he is no landlubber, let me tell you, Admiral, for he has hosts of friends in these parts, and during the holidays has often put to sea for quite a week at a time. He can splice and knot, for Tom Erskine, the old pensioner who acts as my servant, has taught him thoroughly. But how can I thank you?" "Thank the lad, my dear Captain. Tyler is the one to whom you must show your gratitude, and I, too, feel indebted to him; for had it not been for his gallant action you and I would still have remained ignorant of one another, though living separated by but a mile or two. Think of the yarns we shall have together, and of the tales of our boyhood's days which we shall be able to spin. You must come and live close into the town, and I know of a little house there which would suit you admirably, for it is posted high up, and there is a sheltered seat before it from which a more extensive view even than this can be obtained. There is many an old sailor living there who will be delighted to come in and smoke a pipe with you, and instead of sitting here alone for the greater part of every day you will find that you have a new and happier life before you; for you are a man who loves companionship, and in Southampton you will make many a friend. "And now to complete this matter, for we have very little time in which to delay. Sit here and think quietly about the question of the house, and let me know in a couple of days or more, when I return to visit you. Meanwhile I will take Tyler to my quarters, and will see to his outfit. Let him come for a week, which will give sufficient time to the tailors to try on the various garments. Then he can return to you, and can spend the remainder of his time in England at home." It wanted very little persuasion on the part of the admiral to convince Captain Richardson that he had made a staunch friend, who was acting for his and Tyler's benefit. And therefore he placed no difficulty in the way of the latter's proposed visit to Southampton, but instead at once shouted for him. "The admiral has kindly asked you to go into the town with him for a week," he called out. "Run to your room at once, like a good fellow, and pack your best clothes into a bag, for you must remember that you are now a Queen's officer and must dress becomingly." Half an hour later the admiral and the two officers who had accompanied him to the cottage took their leave of Captain Richardson, and having been joined by Tyler, crowded into the hackney-coach which had conveyed them from the town of Southampton, and went trundling away along the road. Behind them they left the captain, jubilant at the good fortune which had suddenly come to him and his son, and eagerly looking forward to the change before him. No longer was he troubled by the question of Tyler's future, for now that was thoroughly settled. Then, again, the long dreary winter, which had usually dragged by miserably for him, was likely to prove in the coming months the happiest he had spent for many a year; for he would certainly leave this out-of-the-way spot, to which ill-health and inadequate income had fixed him, and would make his future home in Southampton, where he would be within easy reach of any who cared to show their friendship. In addition he would have the patronage of Admiral Davies, and that, together with the fact that they had been shipmates together in their earlier days, would secure a number of acquaintances--and, with such a man as Captain Richardson was, acquaintanceship would lead to certain and lasting friendships. Yes, the prospect was a bright one, and on that day, as the old white-headed sailor sat back in the porch, pipe and spy-glass in hand, and the old familiar scene before him, he felt that he was about to commence another existence altogether; he looked younger, the sunken cheeks seemed to have filled out a little, whilst the eyes sparkled in an unusual manner. Indeed, so alluring was the future that the captain remained at his post long after the hackney-coach had reached its destination, and only retired within the cottage when night was falling. Then, seated in his cosy parlour, he took up the _Navy List_ and looked up the names of a few of his old comrades and that of the officer under whose command Tyler was to be. "Yes," he murmured, "the lad will have every opportunity, for I have heard of Captain Keppel, and everyone agrees that he is a dashing and distinguished officer." When Tyler returned to the cottage a week later his father scarcely recognized the spruce young fellow who came walking through the garden towards him, for our hero had now discarded civilian clothes and was dressed in a blue uniform which suited him admirably. Behind him he had left in the admiral's quarters his sea-chest and a very complete outfit with which his generous friend had provided him. In addition, he came primed with the information that he was to sail at the end of three weeks, and that his destination was to be Singapore, where the _Dido_ would eventually put in to victual. The remaining days of his stay in England were extremely busy ones, for, once Admiral Davies had taken an interest in any matter, he was not the man to permit of delay. Indeed, within a very few hours of Tyler's return he drove up in a hackney-coach prepared for the reception of the invalid, with a comfortable couch and thick soft cushions stretched between the seats. On this Captain Richardson was gently placed, and the trio at once drove to the house which the admiral had selected as a likely residence. Arrived there, the captain was carried to the sheltered seat of which mention had been made, and was then shown the interior of the dwelling. "It will do splendidly!" he exclaimed with enthusiasm as they returned to the cottage. "For, thanks to my increased income, I shall easily be able to pay the rent demanded by the agent. Then, again, the furniture in the cottage will be sufficient to fill the rooms, while outside there is a garden which with Tom's help will produce all the vegetables that we require. But more than all, the sheltered seat commands a view up and down the Water, and from it I can see not only the ships sailing there, but can look right into the harbour, while the Portsmouth road stretches like a white ribbon clearly before me, and my own seat in the porch is under view. No doubt on many a day in the future I shall fix my glass upon it, and bear in mind the times when a poor old crippled sailor sat there forlorn and eager for friends. If it can be arranged I will change houses before Tyler starts; and there should be no difficulty in the matter, for the cottage is held on a monthly tenancy, while the residence in Southampton is ready and waiting for me." Accordingly notice was promptly given to the owner of the cottage, while certain necessary decorations and repairs were made to the new house. Then a large van arrived, to which, under the admiral's friendly superintendence, the goods and chattels belonging to the captain were transferred, while that individual was once more put into the hackney-coach and driven to temporary quarters in the town. A few days later he was settled in his new residence, and when Tyler set sail from the harbour _en route_ to Plymouth, where he was to embark upon a merchantman bound for Singapore, he had the satisfaction of knowing that his father was in comfortable surroundings, with many friends at hand. Standing by the after-rail he steadied himself against it and fixed the spy-glass, with which he had been presented by the officers whom he had rescued, upon the sheltered corner high up in the town. There was the old crippled captain, his gaze directed through his glass at the vessel which bore his son away. That he realized the fact of Tyler's presence there upon the poop was evident, for as the latter snatched at his cap and waved it about his head, the old sailor dragged a huge red handkerchief from his breast-pocket and let it blow out in the breeze. Thus did father and son take leave of one another, the former to commence a life of happiness to which he had been too long a stranger, and the latter to cross the sea, where many adventures were to befall him. CHAPTER III Preparing for a Journey Six days had passed, from the date when Tyler Richardson set out from Southampton and dropped down to the open sea, before he reached Plymouth Harbour, for the vessel upon which he had sailed had met with contrary winds, and was much delayed. However, arrive he did at last at the busy port, to find the _Alice Mary_ on the point of departure. Indeed, as Tyler ascended the gangway, followed closely by his chest, the bell was ringing loudly to warn friends and relatives to leave, while the blue-peter at the fore showed that all was in readiness. Sailors were running about the decks in obedience to the orders of the captain, while passengers stood about in every position, hampering the movements of the men, as they looked towards the shore and waved their hands and handkerchiefs. A few of the gentlemen were smoking placidly on the poop, as though departure from England on a long voyage was nothing out of the ordinary, while elsewhere some of the ladies were weeping bitterly at the thought of leaving. Tyler threaded his way amongst them, and having seen the cabin which he was to occupy, and deposited his smaller belongings there, he returned to the deck and looked on at the scene with interest. "A big muddle it all looks, does it not?" said a voice at his elbow, and, turning swiftly, he became aware of the fact that one of the passengers, a tall, bearded gentleman, stood beside him with a pleasant smile of greeting upon his face. "But it will all settle down within a few hours," went on the stranger, without waiting for Tyler's answer, "and, bless you! we shall all feel perfectly at home before we are much older. In fact, within a week we shall be the best of friends, and, I doubt not, shall feel as though we had known one another all our lives. By the end of the voyage some of us will have made such excellent companions that we shall be loth to part, while a few, wearied by the monotony of the long passage, will have squabbled. That is often the ending of a trip like this. But, pardon me, my name is Beverley, and I am for Singapore. May I ask your destination?" Tyler at once told him, and then the two fell into conversation, which lasted until the ship had warped out of the harbour and was steering for the sea. Then they separated to go to their cabins, only to find that they were to share the same. And so it happened that throughout the voyage, which lasted for three months, they were continually together, and became the fastest of friends. "And so you, like myself, are bound for Singapore," said Mr. Beverley two months after the _Alice Mary_ had sailed from Plymouth; "and you tell me that you are likely to join the _Dido_ there. I think that you will be fortunate if you do so, for I happen to be well informed as to the movements of the ships, and I know that the vessel of which we speak is at present in the China Sea, engaged on a special mission, and is not likely to return to Singapore until late next year. Consequently you will either have to remain kicking your heels at the latter place, or you will have to tranship and go aboard the first merchantman bound for Hong-Kong. Now let me tell you of my plans. I am engaged by the Government to go to the island of Borneo, with a view to obtaining information as to its products. At the same time I have other people's interests in hand, for I am travelling for a firm of rubber merchants who are seeking a new field from which to obtain their supplies. Once before I was in the Eastern Archipelago, and on that occasion I obtained experience which will be of great value to me and which will help me on my journey. But you may wonder why I am troubling you so much with my own affairs, and for that reason I will explain. I told you that the _Dido_ was in the China seas, and was not likely to reach Singapore for many months. But I did not say what was also in my knowledge, namely that Captain Keppel has been ordered to return by way of the archipelago, where he is to do his best to exterminate the pirates, who are very numerous and infest the islands. Now, supposing you sailed to Hong-Kong and missed the _Dido!"_ "It would be very disappointing," exclaimed Tyler, "and in that case I should scarcely be able to report myself before a year had passed." "Quite so! but if there was news at Singapore that the _Dido_ was already on her way, but would be delayed in the neighbourhood of Borneo, how would you care for a trip to the island yourself, with the hope that you might have the fortune to join her there?" "Nothing I should like better!" burst in Tyler eagerly. "With you, do you mean?" "That is my proposition. I want a comrade to accompany me, and if he is an officer in the British navy, all the better, for the power of England is known in Borneo, and your uniform would command respect on the coast. In the interior it would be a different matter, for there the Dyak tribes have probably never seen a white man. Indeed I hear that the country has never been explored, but rumours which have reached us through the Malays tell how the tribes within are for the most part fierce and warlike, and spend their time in attacking one another, often with the sole object in view of obtaining the heads of their enemies. But to return to my proposition. I have known you now so long that I feel sure that we should be capital friends. As I have said, I want a companion, while you desire to join your ship. Her destination is the coast of Borneo, while I also am bound in that direction. If on arrival at Singapore you find it unwise to proceed to China, and can obtain permission from the authorities, will you join me, in the hope of falling in with the _Dido?_ There will be no expense, but I can promise you a trip which you may never have another opportunity of taking." "It would be grand, and there is nothing that I should like more, Mr. Beverley," cried Tyler with eagerness. "Of course I know nothing about this Eastern Archipelago, and indeed did not know that I was bound in that direction until a very few days before leaving England. I am sure that the excursion would, as you say, be most fascinating, and I will join you with the greatest pleasure if the authorities will allow me to do so." "Then I think that there will be no difficulty, though I am uncertain at the present moment to whom your request should be made. I am aware that there is a resident governor at Singapore, but whether the Admiralty has a representative is another matter. In any case I should go with you, and should show my orders, which would command some amount of influence; then again, in six weeks' time, when we hope to arrive at our destination, those at Singapore will be able to tell us more about the _Dido_, and will be able to say whether she is then in the China seas or whether she is shortly due at the port. We must be guided by their report, though I think that you will find that your ship is on her way to Borneo, and to the islands thereabout. That being the case, we shall promptly get sanction for you to join me, and as soon as we have made the necessary preparations shall set sail. As for the latter, I propose to purchase a small sailing schooner, and fit her up with a quantity of muskets and a couple of six-pounder guns, for our journey will take us into a part where the pirates from Sarebus abound, and they will think nothing of pouncing upon us. However, if they see that we are fully prepared, they will be more inclined to leave us alone, while, should they be bold enough to attack us, we shall, I hope, beat them handsomely, for we shall carry a crew of Malays, besides an interpreter. But how is it that you obtained your commission? You are decidedly over the age when youngsters are admitted to the navy, and as you have never broached the subject yourself I have not ventured to open it for fear of seeming curious. However, should you care to tell me I should be most interested to hear." Thus invited to give an account of his adventure at the docks, Tyler did not hesitate to describe the latter in full, and to tell Mr. Beverley how Admiral Davies had come forward to help the family. "It was done on the spur of the moment," he said, as if in excuse for his action, when referring to the rescue. "You see, there were the two officers insensible, a shout from the mate told us clearly that gas was the cause of the mishap, and, of course, after that the only thing to do was to get them out as rapidly as possible." "That may be so, Tyler, my lad," responded Mr. Beverley warmly, "but I tell you that, though the need for rescue was apparent, there are many who would have stood there on the deck wringing their hands and incapable of giving active help. That's just where you came to the fore, and it must have been solely due to your promptness that those officers are alive to-day to tell the tale. I am glad that you have won your commission in such a manner, and I prophesy that your promotion will be rapid, for you are about to serve under a very distinguished officer, and will come to him with a character which will at once command his respect and approval. If he sees that you are level-headed and a hard worker he will no doubt give you many an opportunity of showing your worth. But it's time for dinner, and we had better go below and dress. Later on we can discuss the question of this trip to Borneo more completely. At the present moment it is sufficient for me to know that I have obtained the services of a young fellow who will be a companion, and who, moreover, will be of great assistance should it ever be our fortune to get into a tight corner." Five weeks later the _Alice Mary_ sighted the Island of Sumatra, and, having passed through the Malacca Strait, made for the harbour of Singapore. Tyler and Mr. Beverley, having seen their baggage landed, at once went to an hotel, the latter promptly despatching a note to the governor to ask for an appointment. Then they walked about the town for an hour, to find on their return that an answer had arrived requesting them to attend at the residency immediately. "Glad to meet you," said the governor cordially, as they were ushered into his room. "I am aware of your proposed expedition, Mr. Beverley, for I have had orders to help you as much as possible. Advices also have reached me with the information that Mr. Richardson would come here with the object of joining H.M.S. _Dido;_ but I fear that there is disappointment before him, for a brig which arrived last week came with the news that the ship in question had left Hong-Kong recently in search of the pirates in the neighbourhood of Borneo, and also to forward, if possible, the work of an ardent philanthropist, by name James Brooke. I fear that our young friend will have to remain in idleness for many weeks, unless, of course, he receives orders to proceed to some other port in the Archipelago." "Which would exactly suit him, sir," exclaimed Mr. Beverley, who at once proceeded to tell the governor of the proposal which he had made to Tyler. "It sounds an excellent plan to keep him out of mischief," was the answer, given with a smile, "and I am sure that the voyage would be most instructive for a young fellow such as he is. As to the necessary permission, I can give you that on the spot, for there is not a single representative of the royal navy in port at this moment. I will write a letter, which he can carry with him, stating that as the _Dido_ is not likely to put in an appearance for some little time, and is in all probability cruising in the neighbourhood of Borneo, this officer is to proceed there with you on the distinct understanding that he is to join the _Dido_ as soon as he obtains news of her precise whereabouts. That will smooth all possible difficulties, will it not?" he went on with a pleasant smile, seating himself at the desk which stood in the room, and making ready to write. "If questions are asked as to why he did not remain here, he has only to produce the letter; while again, should it turn out that by going with you the date of his joining is delayed longer than it would have been had he remained at Singapore, why, my written orders will clear him from all reprimand." Taking a piece of official paper, the governor hastily scrawled some lines on it and stamped it at the bottom. Then he enclosed the letter in an envelope and sealed it with wax. "There," he said, handing it to Tyler, "may you have a very pleasant trip! and when you fall in with the _Dido_ just be so good as to give my compliments to her commander. For you, Mr. Beverley, I trust that your journey into the interior may lead to a favourable report, for I myself am deeply interested in the island, and in Mr. James Brooke, whose name I have already mentioned to you. I met him here, where he stayed quite recently, refitting his vessel, the _Royalist_, and I had the opportunity of many a conversation with him. He has the interests of the Dyaks and inhabitants of Borneo Proper at heart, and for that purpose he has sailed a second time for Sarawak. I fear that he will encounter many difficulties and dangers, and that it will be long before he meets with real success. But excuse me, I am very busy to-day, and there are many others waiting to speak with me." Extending his hand the governor bade them farewell, and ushered them out of his room, promising to help them in their preparations if they should be in need of assistance. As for Tyler and his friend, they returned to the hotel, and began to discuss the preparations to be made before their departure. "We shall require special clothes, of course," said the latter, "and I think that corduroy breeches and high boots, and a strong but thin linen jacket, will be necessary. A light sun-hat, which will retain its position on the head when the wearer is moving actively, must form part of the outfit, and in addition a cloak of heavy material must be taken, for in Borneo scarcely a night passes without rain, often amounting to a heavy downpour, from which we must be protected. Indeed, my experience of these regions has taught me that a white man rapidly falls a victim to ague if he is exposed to much damp and cold. We must try to keep fever at arm's-length, and as a precaution I shall take with me an abundance of quinine, besides other drugs and surgical necessaries. A spare suit, with flannel shirts, and a supply of foot-gear, will meet our requirements, and will allow us to turn our attention to another portion of the outfit. "Now about guns. I have already told you that I shall carry a supply on board the schooner which I propose to purchase, but I shall also obtain the best of weapons for ourselves, and in any case we shall carry with us a pair of heavy revolvers. Don't think that I am inclined to be pugnacious," he went on with a smile, "but there is nothing like being fully prepared. We may, and I'm sure I hope that we shall, pass amongst these tribes without molestation, but there is no saying for certain, and it will do no harm to let the Dyaks see that we are well armed. But I hope to win them over by presents, and for that purpose I shall take with me bales of beads and coloured cotton, besides looking-glasses, and cheap knick-knacks. A few instruments for the preservation of specimens will be necessary; and last, but by no means least, it will be desirable if you bring a suit of uniform, to be worn on state occasions. "And now for a vessel in which to sail. As we have little time to spare, I propose that we leave for the docks at once and go to a shipping agent. If there is anything in the port likely to prove serviceable he is certain to have knowledge of the craft, and will be able to give us particulars." Issuing from the hotel once more, Tyler and Mr. Beverley walked through the town, passing scores of natives of every hue and colour as they went. Indeed, Singapore, like many another Eastern seaport, is noted for its cosmopolitan population; and as they threaded their way through the sunlit streets, Malays, Chinese, Hindoos from India, and many another native from adjacent parts, jostled one another. Europeans also were to be seen in abundance, but for the most part these were driving in light carriages, or were mounted upon ponies. To Tyler the scene was particularly fascinating, for he had never been in the East before, and as he walked along, his eye noted with admiration the lithe and graceful figures of the Malays, and the stolid, heavily-built appearance of the Chinese. "Yes, John Chinaman looks dull and uninteresting," remarked Mr. Beverley, "but note his prosperity. He has found that his own native land is filled to overflowing, and that competition is too severe, and in consequence has emigrated. I have met him in divers parts, for he is to be found in large numbers in the Straits Settlements, in Borneo, and other islands in this archipelago. He has also found his way to North America and to Australia, and everywhere he is prosperous. A hard worker from his earliest days, and almost always contented with his lot, he can feed himself upon the smallest wage, and still save sufficient for a rainy day. Then in the course of years he becomes his own master, the employer of labour, and a wealthy citizen of whatever town he has made his home. But we must hurry on, for there is much to settle before we set sail for Borneo." Half an hour later they stood upon the dock-side looking with admiration at a tiny schooner which lay moored in the basin, floating daintily upon the water. "A derelict," explained the shipping agent, who had accompanied them to the quay. "She was found off the northern coast of Sumatra, driving hither and thither upon the sea. No one can say to whom she belonged, or how it happened that she was adrift and left all alone. Perhaps her crew went ashore somewhere in the Archipelago and were set upon by the natives. But it is idle to guess, and all that I can tell you is that she was salvaged by a vessel making for this port, and that the usual period allowed in these cases having passed without a claimant coming forward, she is now to be sold by auction, or to any private bidder who will give the price. There, sir, you can see what handsome lines she has, and I can assure you that she is sound and seaworthy. I have already mentioned the figure asked for her, and you are at liberty to take her out for a day's cruise before coming to a definite decision. Shall I make the necessary arrangements and place a crew aboard?" "I like her looks," said Mr. Beverley, "and we will try her. When can you be ready?" "To-morrow morning shall see all arrangements completed, and I myself will come with you," replied the agent. "And now as to the other questions which you put to me. I can find you ten men to form a crew with the greatest ease, and I happen to know of a young fellow who would gladly go with you as boatswain. He was a sailor aboard a merchantman, but fell sick when the ship lay here discharging her cargo, and was at once taken to the hospital, where he remained for long after the ship had sailed. He is now well and strong, and eagerly looking for some work. His name is John Marshall, and I can give him an excellent character." "Then if I like him I will engage him for the trip," said Mr. Beverley; "but what about an interpreter? It will be necessary to take someone with us who can speak the Dyak language, and I think that amongst the Malay crew should be included natives who speak some English besides their own tongue." "The last can be easily managed, but an interpreter would be a difficulty, for you want an intelligent man, and they are few amongst these natives. But wait--it suddenly occurs to me that I know the very person to suit you. How would a Dutchman do?" "Provided he was honest, and had no particular failing, there is no reason why he should not suit me," replied Mr. Beverley thoughtfully. "I admit that I am not charmed with the race of Dutchmen which I have met in the islands of the Archipelago, for they are indolent, and many of them, I fear, cruel in their treatment of the natives. But some were excellent fellows, and there is no reason why this man should not prove the same. Who is he, and how comes it that he is here in Singapore?" "That is a question which I am unable to answer," was the agent's reply. "I only know that he is here in search of employment, for I am the man who is supposed to know everything in this town. His own tale is that he comes from Java, and that he is here for his health. He is quiet and well-behaved, and, I should judge, some thirty years of age, I remember that he told me that he had been in Borneo, and could understand the Dyaks. But I will send him to call upon you, and you can form your own opinion of the man." Having settled the matter in this way, and promised to be at the quay by daylight on the following morning, Tyler and his friend returned to their hotel, and having drawn out a list of articles which they considered useful, they sallied into the town once more and set about making their purchases. A week later their preparations were complete, the schooner had been tried and approved of, and duly bought. Then, thanks to the agent, a crew was easily found, while provisions were to be had in abundance. A Chinese gunsmith had supplied the necessary weapons, and had himself mounted the two six-pounders upon the deck. "We will sail to-morrow at noon," said Mr. Beverley as he and Tyler retired to their hotel that evening. "I think that all our preparations are completed, and I feel that everything is most satisfactory. Our crew are sturdy, well-built fellows, while John Marshall promises to be a treasure. Of Hanns Schlott, our Dutch interpreter, I can say very little, for it is difficult to understand him. He is quiet and reserved, and never speaks unless he is addressed. But I have hopes that he will prove a good companion." Mr. Beverley said the last few words with hesitation, and then lapsed into a thoughtful silence, which Tyler did not venture to interrupt. But a few minutes later he turned to our hero sharply and asked him a question. "What is your own opinion?" he demanded somewhat curtly. "How do you like the man?" "I scarcely know," was Tyler's doubtful answer, "and I do not care to say anything now which may prove wrong in the end. But, honestly, I do not trust him. He has a hang-dog expression, and if you notice, he never looks one steadily in the face. Then again I do not admire his companions." "Companions! Why, he describes himself as being friendless," exclaimed Mr. Beverley with some surprise. "Surely you are mistaken. Where have you seen him in company with other men?" "On three separate occasions I have caught sight of him in close conversation with a rascally-looking fellow who has the appearance of being partly Dutch and partly Malay. I must say that I also was astonished, and watched them for some little while until they boarded a native craft which lay out in the basin. She sailed yesterday, but I said nothing about the matter, as I did not wish to prejudice you. Still, I thought it strange, and determined to mention the matter after we had set sail." For some considerable time there was silence between the two, both being occupied with their thoughts. As for Tyler, he was bound to confess to himself that he had taken an instant dislike to the Dutchman, and felt uneasy at the prospect of his company. But then it was not his business to interfere, for this was Mr. Beverley's expedition, and besides, even though Hanns Schlott failed to please him, he would be one amongst many, and could do no harm even though he might desire to be troublesome. "Hum! It is strange that I too have had the same feeling about this man," said Mr. Beverley. "But, for fear of doing him an injustice, I failed to mention it. But I was not altogether satisfied with him, and had it not been for the fact that it is absolutely necessary that we should carry an interpreter, and that a suitable man was hard to obtain, I should never have accepted his services. However, he is engaged, and must accompany us, though I shall be careful to keep my eye upon him. Now let us turn out into the town for a walk. After to-morrow there will be little opportunity of taking exercise." Early on the following morning all was bustle above and below the deck of the tiny schooner. John Marshall, the young fellow who had been engaged as boatswain, was busily handling his native crew in a manner which showed that he was a thorough sailor. Obedient to his orders, which were given in quiet but resolute tones which commanded instant attention, the Malays were stowing water-barrels in the hold, while a portion of the crew were laying out the sails in preparation for hoisting. Right aft, seated upon the six-pounder which was mounted there, was a short, thick-set individual, dressed in slouching clothes and wearing a broad felt hat upon his head. His cheeks were sallow and flabby, and his whole face was destitute of colour, save for a few black bristles upon his chin. Of moustache he had absolutely none, and his head had been cropped so close that it seemed to be entirely bald. With the brim pulled down over a pair of narrow, slit-like eyes, he sat there gazing vacantly at nothing, while he puffed lazily at an enormous pipe, now and again lifting his head to watch the smoke as it circled about him. Not once did he make a movement to help those on board, and even when Tyler and Mr. Beverley stood close beside him, tugging laboriously at an enormous case of ammunition, he did not venture to stir or lend a hand in the task. Instead, he lounged there as though he had quite made up his mind that his work would begin later on, and that here, at any rate, there was no call for the interpreter to the expedition to exert himself. "Hanns Schlott is a ne'er-do-well, I fear," whispered Mr. Beverley a few minutes later, whilst he and Tyler were in the hold. "For the last hour he has sat there idly, looking at nothing in particular, and lifting not a finger to help those who are to be his comrades. I fear that he will prove unsuitable, and if only I had a good excuse, and could be certain of replacing him instantly, I would pay him a portion of the wages agreed upon and dismiss him. But then a substitute is not to be found, so that we must make the best of matters as they are and trust to things improving in the future." Consoling themselves with this reflection, they stowed the ammunition safely and then returned on deck. By now all was in readiness for departure, and the tiny hatch of which the schooner alone boasted having been battened down, the order was given to hoist the sails. Then the rope which secured her to the moorings was cast off, and the dinghy, by means of which the operation was performed, having been attached to a ring-bolt at the stern, the little vessel swung round, and, careening to the steady breeze which was blowing, headed from the harbour of Singapore. An hour later her course was set direct for the north-western point of Borneo, towards which she sped at a gentle pace. "Once we make the land, I propose to veer to the north and cruise along the north-western coast," said Mr. Beverley, as he and Tyler stood side by side on deck. "Then I shall look out for a river which seems wide enough for navigation, and after landing and obtaining information from the Malays who may happen to be in the neighbourhood, I shall push on up the river till the shallows or other difficulties prevent me. After that we shall act as circumstances direct, though my aim and object is to wander from end to end of Borneo Proper, ending my journey in the neighbourhood of Sarawak." "Land ho! Land in sight!" John Marshall's shout brought all aboard the little schooner hurrying to the deck early one morning six days after the voyage had commenced. "Away there a couple of points to starboard," he continued, directing Tyler's gaze in a line which would show him the object in view. "Hilly land, with green trees, sir, and it's Borneo, I'm thinking." "Borneo, sure enough, John," sang out Mr. Beverley in tones of pleasure, fixing his eyes on the distant land through a pair of glasses. "Take a look, Tyler, and tell me what you see. There is such a haze upon the water that I am confused, though I am certain, from the direct course that we have made, that the island before us is the one for which we are bound." "I can make out a long range of hills," said Tyler, after he had taken a steady look at the distant object, "and--why, I declare that there is the very craft that lay close alongside us at Singapore." "Where? Which vessel do you mean?" demanded his companion quickly. "Not that it matters much, or is of the least importance," he added, "for there is quite a considerable trade done with Borneo, and ships pass to and fro." "Not vessels like that one," said Tyler under his breath, turning to Mr. Beverley swiftly and lifting a warning finger, for he had suddenly become aware of the fact that Hanns Schlott was beside them, eagerly listening to their words. "Yes," he went on, as if agreeing to what had been said, "she is no doubt just an ordinary trader, and we shall probably meet with many more. Are you going below to work out our position?" Conscious that Tyler must have some occasion for speaking as he did, and at once noticing his signal to be cautious, Mr. Beverley indulged in one more glance through the glasses, so as to disarm suspicion, and then, taking the hint which had been thrown out, disappeared below, where he was at once joined by our hero. "Well," he demanded, as soon as they were in the cabin and had closed the door, "why this mystery? Why is there need for caution? You puzzle me, my lad." "Perhaps I have no right to be suspicious," answered Tyler, "but you will recollect that I told you that I had seen Hanns Schlott speaking with a stranger while at Singapore, and that he accompanied his friend on board. The vessel upon which they went is the one now in view, and its commander is the rascally-looking fellow I described to you." "But surely--" commenced Mr. Beverley, and then suddenly became silent. "What do you fear?" he asked in a quiet voice some moments later, turning a thoughtful face towards his young companion. "Come, do not hesitate to speak your mind, for I shall not laugh at you. You have seen something which has aroused distrust in your mind, and you are anxious. I can see that plainly, and as I know well that you are a young fellow upon whom I can rely, and moreover, that you are not inclined to cry out without a cause, I feel sure that there is really something serious. Now, what is it exactly, and, first of all, are you positive that the ship we have seen is the one upon which Hanns Schlott's friend was quartered?" "I am absolutely certain," was the emphatic answer. "The vessel in the offing is a low-built native craft, and to anyone who had not observed her closely she would appear much the same as others to be seen in and about Singapore. However, I happened to take good stock of her, for I tell you that from the very first I have distrusted our interpreter, and I noticed that she had a large slit in her sail, which had been roughly stitched. The craft lying under the land has a jagged hole in the very same position, and I feel positive that it is the one which we are discussing." "But supposing she is the identical boat," burst in Mr. Beverley, "surely there is nothing in the fact of her being in this neighbourhood?" "Perhaps not. It may turn out that I am giving an alarm for which there is no need; but of this I am confident, the vessel owned by Hanns Schlott's friend is no peaceful trader, or if she is at times, she occasionally indulges in warfare of some description." "How could you know that, Tyler? You must be romancing." "I think not," was the steady answer. "At the time, I recollect that I merely noticed that her wood-work was riddled with bullet-holes in many places, and that while some had been the work of months ago, others had been recently made. I remember thinking it strange, but then we were so busy fitting out for the expedition that I quickly forgot all about it. I ought to have mentioned it when we were discussing Hanns, but felt that I might have turned you against him in an unjust way. Now that I see the very same ship the whole thing recurs to me with added force, and makes me feel that all is not as it should be. You yourself have told me that pirates abound in these seas. Then why should this vessel not be one of that type, and how are you to know that Hanns Schlott is not in league with the commander and crew, and merely awaiting a favourable opportunity to take possession of this schooner?" Tyler put the question quietly, and in as low tones as was possible, but for all that his heart beat fast, whilst his pulses throbbed with excitement. For he was a thoughtful and an observant young fellow, and was by no means dull or devoid of sense. What, then, was more likely than that news of Mr. Beverley's expedition should have leaked out and become common property at Singapore? Indeed, the governor had had tidings of it, and had Tyler and his chief only known, many in Singapore were aware of their intentions. Then was it not possible that a whisper should have reached the ears of the pirates about Borneo? And supposing that to have been the case, supposing, for an instant, that the very vessel which the two were discussing in the cabin of the schooner had chanced to put into some port near at hand to obtain a supply of provisions, and had happened to gain the tidings from a crew recently from Singapore--providing the crew and their commander were given to piracy, was it not almost certain that they would at once make plans to swoop down upon the members of what could only be a weakly-manned expedition? Yes, as Mr. Beverley reviewed the facts, he could not help but realize the gravity of the case, and at once he turned a troubled face to his companion. As for the latter, he, too, was worried, and filled with vague fears for the safety of all on board. Had he but been able to read Hanns Schlott's thoughts at that moment he would have been more alarmed, and would have seen that there was ample cause for his concern. Indeed, a glance at the interpreter would have sufficed, for once his two leaders had retired the latter seized a glass which he carried in an inner pocket and applied it to his eye. A moment later he gave vent to a guttural exclamation of satisfaction, and having looked about him to see that he was not observed, went into the bows, where, hidden by the bulging sail, he held a big red handkerchief well above his head, and let it flutter there. "Ja!" he growled beneath his breath. "Meinheer shall see. He thinks that Hanns Schlott is too fat and too tired to be anything but an interpreter, but he shall find out for himself. And Christian van Sonerell is there as he promised. Ha, ha, ha! He is a bad man to have such a name, but he can keep to his word. 'When you sight the island you will find me there', he said; and see, his vessel sails before us, an innocent trader for the moment, but later--ah, we shall see!" With one more glance in the direction of the distant native craft, and a second furtive flutter of the handkerchief, he turned and went along the deck, laughing softly, as though the prospect of some piece of villainy which he were about to undertake were delighting him. CHAPTER IV A Traitor and a Villain "I begin to think that there is some reason in your fears, and that, after all, your good sense and powers of observation are about to save us from a very ugly encounter," said Mr. Beverley slowly, turning to Tyler after some minutes' thought. "I am a man who dislikes to do anyone an injustice, and it is on that account, and because I tried to persuade myself that I had no right to take a dislike to the man, that I determined to think well of our interpreter. But I fear that Hanns Schlott is a rogue, if not worse, and that he is a party in a conspiracy. However, we are not taken yet, and shall give much trouble before any harm comes to us. What do you advise?" "That we arm at once," said Tyler promptly, "and show these fellows that we are prepared. Say nothing to Hanns, but watch him carefully, and at the first sign of treachery make him a prisoner. Above all, refuse to allow the native boat to come within more than hailing distance." "Yes, the plan seems a good one, and we will set about it immediately," cried Mr. Beverley, springing to his feet. "As for this Hanns Schlott, he seems to be a rogue, and as a rogue I will treat him if he shows any inclination to be mischievous. As you suggest, I will make him a prisoner if he gives me the opportunity, and then I shall take steps to hand him over to the Dutch Government. There are numbers of his countrymen in the neighbouring island, for the Dutch have had many stations in the Archipelago for numbers of years, and by slipping round to Celebes, or across to Java, we should have no difficulty about placing him in the custody of one of the residents appointed by his country. But I am sure that at the present moment our best plan will be to keep on terms of friendship with him, to make believe that we trust him, while secretly we keep watch to avoid treachery. Now how are we to set about it?" "Let us call John Marshall and take him into our confidence," said Tyler promptly. "He is a thoroughly good fellow, and has our interests at heart. Shall I send for him now?" A few minutes' consideration told Mr. Beverley that it would be as well to warn the young English sailor who accompanied them, for should there be any trouble with the crew, these three Europeans would naturally fight side by side. As for Hanns Schlott, it was useless to think of him as a friend, for the more his conduct was considered the more certain did it become that he was engaged in some dark conspiracy. "We have to recollect that as a prize we should prove valuable," remarked Mr. Beverley suddenly. "You see, Tyler, the Government and the firm of rubber merchants for whom I am making this expedition have given me a liberal sum with which to pay my way; and indeed they are wise in doing so, for money expended now in a journey such as ours is likely to be, and presents made to Dyak chiefs, are likely to bear very good interest in the future. There are sufficient dollars aboard to make a handsome fortune, and in addition our equipment is of considerable value. Indeed, there is no denying the fact that to one of these native prahus we should be a rich haul, and it is mainly with such a prospect in view that I determined to thoroughly arm the schooner. Who can say how much Hanns Schlott and his accomplices know? If there is actually a conspiracy they must have considered it worth their while to follow us, for otherwise why should they take all the trouble? But there is no use in wondering. The question now is, how are we to protect ourselves? Forewarned is forearmed, and now that our suspicions have been aroused, let it not be said that we have proved rash and careless. Just sing out for John, and tell him to come down at once." Going to the narrow companion, which led to the deck above, Tyler ascended slowly, and having reached the upper level, looked carefully round. There was John standing close beside the tiller, which was manned by one of the Malays, while a few of the crew sat and lounged near at hand. Of Hanns Schlott there was not a sign, but a moment later something red fluttering in the breeze beyond the mainsail of the schooner attracted his attention, and, taking a step to one side, he saw the Dutch interpreter standing with his back against the mast, with his handkerchief held at arm's length above his head. A second later the arm dropped, and the square of red disappeared into one of his pockets. Then, as Tyler darted back to the companion and descended a few steps, the slouching Hanns Schlott turned and came walking along the deck. A few paces carried him beyond the sail, and instantly his eye fell upon Tyler, who made pretence to be just emerging from the cabin. "Had he been seen? Had this young Englishman, whom from the very first he had detested, been spying upon him?" Hanns Schlott flushed red at the thought as he asked himself the questions, and then turned to address our hero. "The land in sight is Borneo," he said. "Ja, I know it, for I have been there before. We have a pleasant trip before us, meinheer." "Perhaps you have friends there," responded Tyler quietly, directing a keen glance at the Dutchman, which caused the latter's eyes to drop, while his face again flushed. "Does he know more than he should, this young idiot?" he murmured beneath his breath. "Does he suspect the prahu lying under the land? Pooh! It is impossible, for like all of his country he is dull, and thinks it honourable to trust all with whom he comes in contact. But I must be cautious, and should he show an inclination to thwart me I will silence his tongue for good. Ja, Hanns Schlott, you are clever, and more than once have you paid a visit to Singapore on the same errand, with Christian van Sonerell to help you. A few months back you contrived to capture a merchantman, and on this occasion you will not be baulked by any of these fools. The youngster means only to be pleasant when he suggests that I have friends at hand, and it is absurd to think that he suspects me." Banishing all fears of discovery from his mind in this sweeping manner, the Dutchman waited only to assure Tyler that he was unknown to any in Borneo, and then went sauntering along the deck. As for the latter, he remained on the companion ladder for some moments watching the interpreter. "He is a rogue, I am sure," he said to himself, "and the fact that I have caught him in the act of signalling to the prahu convinces me that I am right. He started when I suggested that he had companions on the island, and for the moment I could see that he feared that I had witnessed his act. Otherwise why did he address me? For he is a silent man, and during the week or more that I have known him has never ventured to say a word unless directly asked a question. Now, if I call John Marshall down into the cabin without a sufficient excuse, Hanns Schlott will begin to think that matters are not going smoothly for him. Ah, I know!" Springing up the remaining steps of the ladder, he emerged upon the deck and walked towards the young sailor, pausing as he did so to gaze at the distant land, to which the schooner had drawn distinctly nearer, and under the shadow of which the native prahu which had aroused his suspicions still lay. Then he went to the tiller and addressed John Marshall. "We wish to make arrangements for the landing-party," he said so that all on board could hear. "Mr. Beverley requests that you will come down into the cabin and help him in selecting the men." Turning upon his heel he at once retraced his steps and was soon joined by the young sailor in the cabin. "Close the door, please," said Mr. Beverley as the latter entered. "Now sit down there, John, and tell me candidly what you think of our crew?" Thus bidden, the boatswain dropped on to a wooden form and sat there uncomfortably twirling his cap between his fingers for some minutes, as though unable to do what he was asked. Then he suddenly raised his head, and, looking first at his interrogator and then at Tyler, blurted out his news. "They ain't right, and that's the whole matter with 'em," he said shortly. "Away in Singapore they were just easy to handle, and worked almost as hard as a British crew. But the feeding's too good for 'em by half, and they're getting above themselves. It's the truth, sir, and I tell you that they are altogether out of hand. As for the Dutch cove aboard, well--" John Marshall shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, and lifted his hands as much as to say that the matter was beyond expression. Then he sank back on the form and looked at Mr. Beverley as if awaiting another question. "What about Hanns Schlott then?" demanded the latter. "Do you think that he is in league with rogues who have followed us to Borneo? My young friend, Mr. Richardson, declares that the prahu lying under the island is one which was moored in the harbour at Singapore close to this schooner, and that her condition and the appearance of her commander led to the suspicion that she was not altogether a peaceful trader." "Then he ain't far out," cried the boatswain, suddenly leaping to his feet and coming forward to lean with both hands upon the cabin table. "I don't know as how I've seen anything particular, but there's pirates in these seas, for I learnt that when in Singapore, while the Dutchman aboard is a wrong 'un. It wouldn't surprise me to hear that he had fixed it up to murder the whole lot of us, and if I had my way I'd pitch him ashore at the very first landing-place." He gave vent to a snort of indignation, and changed his cap from one hand to the other, while he kept his eyes closely fixed upon Mr. Beverley. "Then you will be all the more ready to follow the plan which we have decided upon," exclaimed the latter; "but secrecy is a thing which we must carefully observe. Remember this, that our suspicions may be unfounded, and that the prahu over there and our interpreter may be as innocent of treachery as we are. As for the crew, it grieves me to hear that they are not to be relied upon, and now that I have heard it I realize that should trouble come we three must depend upon ourselves alone. From this moment we must carry weapons upon us, and as soon as it is dark we must take it in turn to keep watch. Then, too, at the very first opportunity we will load our six-pounders, cramming them with grape-shot, and replacing the tarpaulin covers over the touch-holes once we have laid the fuse. If there is trouble we will rush to one end of the boat and defend ourselves there." "Then only one of the six-pounders must be prepared," cried Tyler with emphasis, "for otherwise, while we were posted in the bows, those in the stern would lay the gun there upon us and blow us into pieces." "Ah! I had forgotten that, my lad, and I thank you for giving the warning," said Mr. Beverley. "Who knows, it may be the saving of our lives! And now as to the watch to be set. We will divide the night into three parts, and will settle upon a signal which will awaken those who are off duty and bring them on deck." "Then let it be a pistol-shot, if I may make so bold as to give a bit of advice," burst in John. "Yer see, sir, the crack of a little weapon like that is loud enough to reach to any part of the schooner, unless a gale is blowing, and it's so sudden-like and unexpected that it fetches yer upon yer pins before yer know what's happening. Besides, a pistol's a handy weapon to carry in one's pocket." "And as it is the only one with which we shall be armed, we will adopt your suggestion," said Mr. Beverley. "Then, all understand that the firing of a shot means trouble, and that all three of us instantly make for the stern of the vessel, there to fight whoever may come along. And now I propose to go on deck and take a closer look at the land. Then we will turn to the north-west and coast along in that direction until evening falls, when we will haul in and let go our anchor. Once set up for the night, you, John, will take the first watch, our young friend here joining you as soon as the Malays are out of the way, and helping to load the six-pounder in the stern. When that is done he will return to the cabin, and when you have completed three hours of your watch I shall come and relieve you, to hand over the duty after a similar period to Mr. Richardson. Here are weapons for all of us. See that you place them well out of sight and give no indication of their presence." Going to a locker which was built beneath one of the cabin seats, he lifted the lid and groped in the interior, to withdraw his hand in a few moments grasping a bundle wrapped in a piece of old blanket. Placing it upon the table he cut the cord which surrounded it, and gingerly opened his parcel. "The latest weapon," he said with a smile; "as you will see, some clever fellow has invented a revolving drum which will enable us to fire as many as six shots without reloading. I purchased six, so that each one of us should have twelve shots in his belt. Here is the ammunition, too, and we will at once commence to divide it." Ten minutes later, when the three ascended to the deck, it was with curiously mingled feelings of excitement and anxiety, for who could tell what was about to happen? That some plot was afoot to capture the schooner and murder the three Englishmen upon it Tyler had no doubt, and the information which John Marshall had given as to the crew had served only to make the danger more real. Standing there beside the sail, with his eyes fixed upon the native prahu, he realized that he and his two comrades were helpless, for how could they fight a crew of ten muscular Malays led by Hanns Schlott? And if, in addition, the men on board the prahu came to the assistance of their friends, what chance would there be of resisting them? "We should be cut to pieces," he said to himself, "or should be driven off the boat. But we shall see. Perhaps, after all, we have no need to be frightened, and matters will turn out better than we anticipate." To attempt to console himself with this thought was useless, for do what he would Tyler could not allay his suspicions. If he turned to the coast of Borneo his eyes invariably fell upon the prahu there, while if he tramped restlessly up and down the deck of the schooner the slouching figure of Hanns Schlott came into view, sending his thoughts once more to the evil-looking companion with whom the latter had consorted. Then again, now that his attention had been drawn to the crew of Malays who manned the schooner, he could not help but notice an air of insolence which had been strange to them a week ago. Then they had been almost too cringing and polite, while now they glanced at their three English officers as though conscious of the fact that the position was about to change. But thinking could do no good, and as every precaution had been taken Tyler and his friends had to content themselves with watching the distant shore and waiting patiently for the night to come. At length the sun disappeared behind a bank of clouds, while the light perceptibly faded. Almost at the same moment a deep bay was noticed in the coast of Borneo, and into this the schooner was promptly headed. Running in till within a mile of the shore she hauled down her sails and let go the anchor just as the short twilight which reigns in the Archipelago gave place to darkest night. "Now is your time to see about the gun," said Mr. Beverley, who had taken his station beside Tyler. "The natives have their meals at this hour and will be huddled together in the bows. Our interpreter is seated at this moment in his cabin, where he will be out of the way. Get the work done quickly, and let me know when all is in readiness." Tyler at once ran to carry out the orders, for now that the night had fallen he realized that if trouble were in store for them it would be at such a time, when darkness covered the water and hid their surroundings. Going to the bulkhead which closed one end of the cabin, he unlocked the door there and entered the tiny magazine with which the schooner was provided. Then he emerged again with the necessary ammunition, and ere long was able to assure his leader that all was in readiness. That done he lay down upon his bunk and attempted to sleep, but without success; for though he closed his eyes tightly his brain still remained actively at work, while his ears were ever open for that pistol-shot which was to give the signal agreed upon. Hour after hour dragged wearily by, and it was a relief to him when at last Mr. Beverley touched him upon the shoulder and told him that it was time for him to go on deck and take his turn in looking after the safety of the vessel. "There has not been a sound," he whispered, "and nothing has occurred so far to arouse our suspicions. Both John and I have endeavoured to discover the position of the prahu, but the night is too dark. When we ran into the bay she was some distance higher up the coast, and for all we know may have anchored there. Keep your eyes and ears open, and do not hesitate to give the signal if there should be cause." Promising to follow the advice given to him, Tyler leapt from his bunk and crept up on deck, to find that the schooner lay without a movement on the water, and that the sky above was lit up by myriads of bright stars. All round, however, was impenetrable gloom, and though he went to either side of the schooner, and with arms leaning upon the bulwarks peered into the darkness, nothing caught his eye, while there was no sound save the gentle lisp of the water against the vessel's side to attract his attention. "What was that?" He stood still beside the companion which led from the cabin and listened eagerly, while his heart beat heavily and thumped almost audibly against his ribs. "Ah, there it was again; a splash somewhere near at hand!" Darting to the side he slipped his boots from his feet, and then ran silently along the deck till close to the bows, when he suddenly caught sight of a figure standing before him. In an instant his hand grasped the butt of one of his revolvers, and, drawing the weapon, he advanced upon the man. "Who is that?" he demanded in low but commanding tones. "Answer at once." At the words the figure before him started suddenly and turned swiftly about. Then a second voice broke the silence. "Who but Hanns Schlott, meinheer?" was the answer, in tones which the speaker endeavoured to render suave. "Who but the interpreter, who, finding sleep impossible on this fine night, has come upon deck to enjoy silence and solitude." "Then what caused the splash?" "The splash, meinheer! Ah! I recollect there was a rope coiled here beside the halyard, and as I leaned against the rail my arm touched it, and it fell into the water. See, here it is; I will pull it on board." He grasped a thick cable close at hand, and pulled upon it till the end came over the bulwark and fell upon the deck. Then, yawning loudly, he bade Tyler a curt "good-night!" and disappeared below, leaving the latter standing upon the deck full of suspicion and with vague fears of some unknown but impending trouble. Indeed, had he but followed the crafty Dutchman to his cabin, and watched his behaviour there, the signal which had been agreed upon would have at once awakened the silence of the night, and brought his two comrades rushing up to support him. But his duty was to watch above, and therefore, slipping his boots on to his feet, once more he slowly trudged the length of the vessel, halting every now and again to listen intently for sounds, and stare into the darkness. Meanwhile Hanns Schlott had disappeared within his cabin. "All is well," he was saying to himself, as he knelt beside the tin trunk which contained his possessions. "The young fool was suspicious, that I could see, but my word satisfied him, and he is now tramping the deck in the full belief that no danger threatens. But Hanns Schlott knows better. Ha, ha! Christian van Sonerell will make nothing of the climb on to the schooner, though the rope which I had secured over the side would have been of great service to him. In a little while he will be here, and then I shall be ready." Searching amongst the contents of his trunk he produced an enormous pistol, which he carefully examined. Then, thrusting a small bag of money into one of his pockets and gently closing the lid of the box, he stole from the cabin, weapon in hand, and went creeping across the floor in the direction of the bunk in which lay Mr. Beverley. Twice he came to a sudden halt in the course of his murderous journey, and crouched there silent and motionless beside the cabin table, for the rustle of the sleeper's bed-clothes, and an interruption in the regularity of his breathing, told that Mr. Beverley was not so deeply unconscious as this rascally Dutchman would desire. Indeed, for a minute or more it seemed as though some sense of impending danger, some vague dream of a levelled weapon and the hand of an assassin, had crossed the mind of the sleeper, for he suddenly awoke to a troubled half-consciousness, and, raising himself upon an elbow, peered with blinking eyes into the darkness. Did he hear anything? He lay there so still, breathing so silently, that the Dutchman's craven heart leapt into his mouth, while the fingers which grasped his weapon trembled as though they would relinquish their grasp. Squeezing his body as far as possible beneath the table he crouched still closer to the floor, in the attitude of a tiger about to spring upon his victim. And all the while he kept those slit-like eyes fixed in the direction of the bunk, while his ears listened eagerly for outside sounds. "Will those fools never come?" he said with many a curse beneath his breath. "If only Christian van Sonerell and his men would arrive at this moment I would send the bullet crashing into his body. And if this man should stir again I will press the trigger without a doubt. Ja, I will risk it, for to be discovered now would be to ruin our enterprise and get myself into trouble. Ah! the dolt thinks better of it, and has placed his face once more upon the pillow. Then I will remain as I am and give him a few minutes longer to live. By then he will have settled to sleep once more, and will fall the more easily to my weapon. Hist! There is someone moving." As he spoke, a slight sound from the far end of the alleyway, where John Marshall had his quarters, broke upon the villain's ear, and instantly he became even more alert, while once more an unsteady arm levelled the pistol, prepared to turn it upon the sleeper or on anyone else who should be so unfortunate as to come into the cabin and disturb him in the midst of his work. "Ah!" Hanns Schlott's head became suddenly erected, while the face turned involuntarily with a rapid movement towards the companion ladder. At the same moment the splash of an oar broke the silence, causing Tyler to suddenly halt in his restless tramp upon the deck and then dash towards the side. There it was again, followed in succession by others, proving that a boat was approaching, while scarcely had the fact dawned upon his senses than a dim object, rapidly becoming more visible through the darkness, suddenly came into view. Whipping a weapon from beneath his coat, he levelled it in the direction of the object and gave vent to a shout. "Stop there!" he cried in piercing tones. "If you pull a stroke nearer I will fire into you. Halt, I say!" Leaning upon the rail which guarded the schooner's side, he stretched towards the oncoming boat, closely watching its movements, while at the same time he eagerly listened for sounds from below, for some sign which would tell him that Mr. Beverley and John Marshall had sprung from their bunks and were rushing to his aid. Nor was he destined to be kept long waiting, for hardly had the words left his lips, warning those on the boat to come no nearer, than a pistol-shot rang out in the night with startling loudness, the sharp report rushing up from the cabin below. Then a piercing shriek awakened the echoes, telling of the foul crime which had just been committed. Almost instantly there was the noise of a scuffle below, followed by the soft thud of a heavy blow delivered, and a second afterwards a crash and the sound of splintering wood as some unwieldy body fell upon the table. Utterly bewildered at the turn which events had suddenly taken, Tyler stood there leaning upon the rail, dumbfounded and uncertain how to act. Not for long, however, did he hesitate, for whatever the trouble below there was no doubt that a serious danger threatened them outside. Indeed, one quick glance told him that in spite of his warning words the dim ghostly object which he had caught sight of was rapidly approaching, while the splash of oars became now still more distinct. Instantly his finger closed round the trigger of his weapon, and just as the clatter of heavily-booted feet ascending the companion told him that John Marshall was at hand, his revolver spoke out, sending a bullet into the very centre of the men crowded together in the oncoming boat. There was another shriek, still more piercing than that one which had ascended from below, while a shadowy figure, which he could just see through the gloom, suddenly tossed a pair of lanky arms into the night and then collapsed in a heap. But what was a life to these marauders? With a savage heave, as the lifeless body fell upon him, one of the oarsmen tossed his dead comrade overboard, and then bent to his oar once more, stimulated to do so by the encouraging shouts of a burly individual who stood in the bows of the boat. "On them!" he shouted in stentorian tones, using a mixture of the Dutch and Malay language. "Clamber aboard and slit the throats of any of the Englishmen who may still be alive. Pull for it, for if you do not hurry Hanns Schlott will have done the work, and you will be disappointed." Bang! Once again Tyler's smoking revolver launched a missile at the enemy, a shrill cry of pain clearly denoting the fact that it had found a billet. Then John Marshall's lithe figure suddenly appeared beside him and another weapon opened into the darkness. In rapid succession, and with steady and unerring aim, did the two young fellows fire upon the pirates. But they might have been a hundred yards away for all the effect they produced, for these men were used to such scuffles, and were not to be so easily turned aside, particularly when they recollected the fact that the schooner had at the most but three white men to protect her, whilst on board were staunch allies of their own. Every moment they waited to hear the voice of the Dutchman, Hanns Schlott, who had so cleverly obtained the post of interpreter. They listened eagerly and peered into the gloom as they plied their oars, looking to see his bulky figure at the head of the Malay crew. Nor was their patience severely tried, though in the case of the rascally Dutchman they were doomed to disappointment; for when a few yards separated the bows of their boat from the schooner's side, ten dusky figures came rushing from their quarters for'ard and swept in a body along the deck. "Look out!" shouted Tyler in warning tones. "The crew have joined against us and we must fight for our lives. Back to the stern, but first of all where is Mr. Beverley, for we cannot think of retiring till he is with us? Steady, John! Stand side by side with me, and rush for the cabin." Grasping his comrade by the sleeve, Tyler made a movement towards the companion, with the full intention of darting down into the space below and rescuing his leader. But scarcely had he moved a pace than the strong fingers of the boatswain arrested his progress and urged him towards the stern. "Yer can't do it. It's out of the question, I tell yer, sir, for Mr. Beverley's dead, he's been murdered by that scoundrel." "Dead! Killed by Hanns Schlott!" exclaimed Tyler, instantly realizing that any deed of violence and treachery must be attributable to the Dutchman. "How awful! But how do you know? Are you not making a terrible mistake?" He blurted out the words in short sentences, and remained there, determined not to budge an inch or to do anything to secure his own retreat until he was assured by his companion that it was useless to attempt to bring help to their leader. And all the while the two young fellows stood resolutely side by side, resolved to support one another to the end, and die rather than submit, for each realized that capture would be followed by nothing else but a cruel death. Indeed, the knowledge that that would be their end without a doubt should they fall into the hands of these enemies who had suddenly sprung up from the darkness braced their nerves, and helped their determination to fight desperately. Dragging their reserve weapons from their belts they levelled them at the crew who had mutinied, whilst each kept his eye turned ever and anon to the side from which the boat-load of pirates was approaching, prepared to send a bullet in that direction the instant the marauders appeared. "Quick! How do you know that he is dead, that this villain, Hanns Schlott, has murdered him?" demanded Tyler hoarsely. "Tell me at once, for otherwise I will dash below and see things as they are for myself." Once more he stepped towards the companion as though doubtful of the information which his companion had given, and anxious to clear up the mystery of Mr. Beverley's absence for himself. But a shout from John and a firm grip of his fingers once more arrested him, while the explanation of this strange silence of their leader, the reason why he was not there to stand or fall beside them, was hissed into Tyler's ears. "He's dead, sure enough," said John Marshall. "Just before your shout to those beggars came rushing down below I thought I heard suspicious sounds in the cabin. I didn't like to think that some villainy was afoot, and so I just hopped out of my bunk and came into the alleyway. Then I stole softly into the cabin, match-box in hand, and a lucifer between my fingers. I was just in the act of striking a light when your shout startled me. A second later a pistol went off within three yards of where I stood, while Mr. Beverley gave a shriek which made my blood run cold. I dropped the match in my terror, but a second after it flared up in the darkness, lighting the cabin from end to end, and showing me Hanns Schlott kneeling on the floor with a smoking pistol in his hand. Like a flash I guessed the murdering game he'd been after, and I scarcely gave him time to get on to his feet when I was upon him. I just gave a jump across the cabin and then let fly with my fist, sending him crashing into the table. Then I struck another lucifer, and finding him capsized all in a heap, and completely stunned, I ran across to Mr. Beverley. He's dead I tell yer, sir, for there's a bullet wound as big as my fist over his heart and not a breath came from his lips. Let's get back to the stern." Hissing the words in Tyler's ear, but a few moments had been employed in imparting the information. But short though the interval had been, it had been sufficient to increase the gravity of the position, for by now the crew of Malays who had manned the schooner, and who up to this had hung back awaiting the arrival of Hanns Schlott to lead them, had decided to attack without his help, and one of their number springing forward, kriss in hand, the remainder came rushing in a body towards the two young Englishmen, brandishing their weapons above their heads and shouting at the top of their voices. Almost at the same instant the rays from the lantern, which was slung as a riding-light in the for'ard part of the schooner, fell upon the villainous face of the Dutchman, Christian van Sonerell, who came climbing over the bulwarks, quickly followed by a dozen cut-throat Malays. "Back to the stern!" shouted Tyler, turning swiftly about. "Get behind the gun and stand ready to shoot!" Joined by John Marshall, he raced towards the end of the schooner till his progress was suddenly obstructed by a cable which stretched from the rail to the end of the tiller, and then again across to the opposite bulwarks. "Look out for the rope!" he cried in warning tones. "Now step over it, and give it a hitch to pull it taut. It will stretch as a barrier between us and the Malays." Quick to grasp his meaning, the young boatswain thrust his weapons into his belt so as to set his hands free, and then, darting to the side, rapidly unloosed the rope which kept the tiller amidships and from swaying from side to side as the vessel lay at anchor. With the deft fingers of a sailor he rearranged it, pulling it taut till it stretched between the bulwarks like a bowstring. Then, finding that there was some yards of slack, he darted forward once more to where the binnacle stood some six feet beyond the end of the tiller, and, making a turn of the rope around it, brought the tail-end to the opposite side. "That'll fix 'em!" he cried in tones of excitement as he returned to Tyler's side. "It's too dark for those fellows to see the cable, and they'll find themselves brought up sharp when they come rushing towards us. Are yer ready for them, sir?" Meanwhile Tyler had been by no means idle, for there was much to be done to prepare for the contest. Seeing that his companion had realized the help which the rope barrier would give them, he turned his attention to the gun, and hastily threw off the tarpaulin jacket with which it was covered. Gently running his fingers over the breach, they quickly came in contact with a small heap of powder which he had carefully left in position there when loading the weapon. A moment's search discovered the touch-hole, and a rapid movement of the hand swept the glistening grains over it. Stooping down he looked along the barrel, and aided by the light cast by the lantern which swayed in the for'ard rigging, and with one hand turning the wheel which altered the elevation, he rapidly levelled the barrel so that the contents would sweep about waist-high across the deck. A slight movement of the breech towards the left pointed the gun clear of the binnacle and towards that portion of the ship where the pirates were massing. "That's done," he shouted in answer to John Marshall's question; "and now I'm ready to blow a hole through the rascals. Stand aside, John, and just keep your eye upon them. The lamp swings in just the right position, and by its aid every one of the enemy can be seen as he moves. It is more than likely that the leader is the only one possessed of a pistol, so watch him closely, and when you see him about to fire let drive with your own weapon. I will stand beside the gun, but unless they rush at us in one dense body I shall not discharge it, for the ropes will protect us, and, moreover, it is probable that at first only a few of the most courageous will venture to attack. Later on, when matters become more serious, I will fire my pistol over the touch-hole and send a shower of grape scattering through them. Ah, there is the ringleader, and by his movements he is about to lead them to the assault!" CHAPTER V Escape from the Schooner Scarcely five minutes had elapsed from the time when Hanns Schlott's cowardly finger had pressed the trigger and sent the murderous bullet into the breast of the sleeper. Indeed, to Tyler, as he stood there upon the stern, pistol in hand, prepared to discharge the contents of the six-pounder into the midst of the pirates, the sharp report, that piercing, piteous scream still rang in his ears, while the thud of John's massive fist and the crash and noise of splintering wood-work as the rascally Dutchman was knocked to the floor were fresh in his memory. Then had come the rapid appearance of the boatswain, to be followed shortly afterwards by the figures of the mutinous crew rushing up on deck to aid their comrades. And all the while his own weapon had been snapping, sending a shower of bullets amongst the occupants of the approaching boat. So much had happened in that short space of time, so rapid had been the succession of events, that the moments had flown by. Now, however, it was so different, for, waiting there beside the gun, with one companion alone to support him, to help him face a horde of ruffians intent upon their lives, the seconds seemed minutes, the minutes hours, so desperate was the situation. A shout, a shot in their direction, or the sudden rush of the pirates would have been a welcome relief to the tension, but as yet their condition was unchanged. Thanks to the light shed by the riding-lamp, both he and John Marshall could see the Malays grouped upon the deck, and could watch as their leader, Christian van Sonerell, went amongst them, urging them to dash aft and fall upon the white men. At length, rendered desperate and utterly reckless by the precarious position in which he found himself, Tyler levelled his pistol at the leader of the pirates, and taking deliberate aim, pressed steadily upon the trigger. At once there was a shout, and the Dutchman swung round with a curse, showing that the bullet had struck him. Indeed, there was little doubt that he was heavily hit, for he staggered to one side, and would have fallen had it not been for the mast against which he placed one hand. But he was a sturdy fellow, this rascally marauder, and to do him but common justice he was not the man to cry out till badly hurt, or to give in till thoroughly beaten. With a gasp, therefore, he recovered his breath, and at once leapt in front of his following. "At them!" he shouted. "Get together on this side and rush at them in a body. Now, I will lead you." Turning for one moment to his men, he swung round in the direction of the stern, and as if to show his hatred of the white men, he levelled a pistol and fired, sending a bullet swishing so close to Tyler's head that the latter stepped aside involuntarily. Then, tossing the weapon to the deck, he drew a cutlass from his belt, and, snatching a second pistol with his left hand, led the pirates in a mad rush towards their victims. "Some are hanging back," shouted Tyler, "so I will do as I said. If they come on too strongly it will be madness to wait, and I shall fire the gun and then do my best with my pistol." "And what then?" demanded John Marshall eagerly. "Are we to stay here on the deck and get sliced to pieces? Why, it's throwing our lives away!" "What else can we do?" said Tyler eagerly. "We are hemmed in, so far as I can see, and have no means of flight." "But what about the dinghy?" asked his companion swiftly. "Ain't she all right? What's to prevent us jumping overboard and swimming to her? It wouldn't take no more than a minute, and then before these beggars guess what we were up to we'd be into her and dodging away in the darkness." Tyler had barely time to give his assent to the proposal when the Dutchman and his followers were upon them. Scampering along the deck, they came in a confused crowd towards the stern, each one grasping a weapon, and all with their eyes fixed upon the two solitary figures standing there. That those who came close behind their leader were filled with courage and with the determination to be victorious there was little doubt, for the eagerness with which they dashed forward showed it plainly. Quite a number, however, showed far less resolution, for the Malay does not love a struggle which is likely to prove difficult, and dangerous to his life. Some there may be of the pirates whose days are passed in stern encounters, but the majority spend their time in looking for helpless individuals upon whom they may fall suddenly and when least expected. Here, however, the matter was quite different, for opposed to them, and standing beside a gun which, for all they knew, might be crammed to the muzzle, were two of the three Englishmen whom they had hoped to make easy victims. That they would fight, and fight hard too, was evident, for otherwise they would have thrown down their weapons at the sight of so many enemies and begged for their lives. But this they had shown no inclination to do; and that fact, combined with the resolute air with which they faced the tide of pirates rushing down upon them, caused a few of the more faint-hearted to hold back. Instead of racing recklessly forward they halted there upon the deck, and made up for their lack of courage by shrieking shrill words of encouragement to their friends. Crash! The Dutchman, charging madly upon the gun, came in contact with the rope stretched between the binnacle and the bulwarks, and in a moment his feet were cut from under him and he pitched forward upon his face; a huge Malay followed, kriss in hand, and attempted to leap the unseen obstacle. But he failed to rise sufficiently high, and catching his toes upon the cable came with a thud upon his leader. The third was more cautious, for, realizing the cause of their downfall, and the crafty trap which had been set for the attackers, he stretched his hand into the darkness and felt for the rope. A second, and his fingers lit upon it, when his weapon flashed above his head as he prepared to sever the hempen obstacle. But John Marshall was closely watching the scene, and realizing that once the barrier had gone their chances would be lessened, he stretched towards the man and, just as the blow was falling, fired point-blank at him. Then with a shout he leapt the rope which stretched from the tiller, and dashing upon the Malay who had fallen upon his leader, he clutched him by the waist and tossed him over the side. [Illustration: THE FIGHT AT THE STERN] "Well done!" cried Tyler enthusiastically; "but get back at once, for the others are coming. Quick, or they will be upon you!" The warning to which he had given vent came by no means too soon, for hardly was John Marshall in his former position than the leader of the pirates sprang to his feet and once more rushed upon his opponents. "English dogs!" he shouted in his fury; "for the fall which you have given me I will make you suffer well. You shall know what it is to scream with pain, and then--" He did not finish the sentence, for, failing to notice the second rope, stretching between the tiller and the bulwark, he came into violent contact with it, and, as in the former case, fell sprawling upon the deck. Another second and the active John had plucked him by the coat, and with a quick heave had sent him sousing into the sea. "Stay there, you Dutchman!" he cried with a short laugh, "and let that teach you to be more cautious when next you attack a Britisher. Ah, no you don't, my beauty!" The last part of the sentence was addressed to one of the Malay crew, who, taking advantage of the fact that John Marshall was fully engaged in dealing with Christian van Sonerell, had crept on all-fours along the deck, and, feeling in the darkness for the obstacles which had been the undoing of his comrades, had safely negotiated them, and at that moment sprang, kriss in hand, to his feet. Then, as the boatswain turned towards him and gave vent to the words, the Malay darted forward and lunged at him with his weapon with such swiftness that it was only by springing swiftly aside that John escaped the blow. Next second the butt of his pistol crashed into the native's face, and he, too, tumbled full length beside the binnacle. "Didn't I tell yer that yer wouldn't do it," growled John in low tones of excitement. "Jest look out for that other fellow, sir." "Right!" exclaimed Tyler in reply, "I'm watching carefully, and that will stop him." Hoping to rush in upon the Englishmen while their attention was distracted, two of the Malay pirates had followed the example set by the one whom John had stunned with his pistol, but, unfortunately for them, they had failed to discover the position of the rope with sufficient celerity, and as they fumbled in the darkness they rose so far from the crouching position which they had assumed that their heads suddenly became outlined against the swaying lamp behind. The movement was fatal, for ere they could avoid the shot Tyler had pointed his weapon in their direction, and, aided by the feeble rays beyond, had sent a bullet crashing into the nearest. "Perhaps that will stop them," he cried in tones which betrayed no little excitement "These fellows must not be allowed to think that they are to have it all their own way. Indeed they seem to be inclined to hang back, and I begin to think that a rush on our part might clear the decks. They are without a leader, and now is the time to attack them. Make ready for a charge." There was little doubt that the proposal which Tyler had so boldly made might, in the absence of the rascally Dutchman who led the pirates, have proved more than ordinarily successful, for the losses which they had already suffered, the unlooked-for manner in which they had been opposed, and the sudden downfall of Christian van Sonerell, had filled the Malays with dismay. Some, indeed, had hung back from the very first, recognizing with the instinct of men possessed of little courage that danger and death were possibly in store for them. But now, finding themselves so suddenly arrested in their furious attack, and their leaders brought crashing to the deck by some unseen means, the remainder faltered, and, as Tyler's last pistol-shot rang out, to be followed instantly by the heavy thud of a falling body and by the clatter of a native kriss upon the deck, they turned about in a body and fled into the bows, placing as great a distance between themselves and the weapons of their opponents as was possible. Peering into the darkness, they looked towards the stern with anxious eyes, and noted with feelings almost of despair that the two Englishmen whom they had hoped to kill so easily were stepping across the rope which had formed a barrier between themselves and their numerous opponents. Indeed, so terror-stricken were they at the sight that thoughts of flight instantly occurred to them, and they would have rushed to the boat which had brought them from their own prahu to the schooner had not a head suddenly appeared over the bulwark where it was secured. Then an arm came into sight, whilst the feeble rays of the lamp struggled down upon the dripping figure of a man clambering over the rail. It was Christian van Sonerell, and at the sight cries of delight escaped the Malays. They sprang forward to help him, and then crowded about him while they urged him in pleading tones to leave the schooner or to lead them once more against the Englishmen. "They are too strong for us, and we fear their gun," cried one of them. "By some means of which we are ignorant they have caused you and others of our comrades to come crashing to the deck, and see how swiftly fate has followed them. You, too, also came to grief, and when we saw you tossed overboard as if you were a child we gave you up for lost, and seeing that the white-faces were about to turn and rush upon us we contemplated flight. But you are here once more, you have rejoined us by a miracle, and we again place ourselves in your hands. Shall we gather in a body and attack them for the second time, or is it your advice that we retire and leave these men to themselves? for it is clear that much suffering will come upon us before they are conquered." "Leave them! Fly like hounds from the schooner and forsake the spoil which is already in our hands! Surely you are children to make such a proposal! You laugh at me and would make believe that you are frightened!" cried Christian van Sonerell, turning suddenly upon them, and staring each one in the face as if he would read his inmost thoughts. "Leave the vessel when there is gold below, and when we have expended so much time and patience to take her! You are joking and cannot mean what you say. You see for yourselves that the two English fools have been favoured by luck, and, taking advantage of my disappearance, have been bold enough even to think of driving you from the deck. Now look at them. As I came climbing over the rail they hesitated, and now have retreated to their old position, out of which we will drive them. Forward, my men! Follow Christian van Sonerell!" While the rascally Dutchman had been haranguing his men, Tyler and his companion had paused to discuss the question of attacking the Malays. A moment before they were intent upon rushing upon them, for that they were disheartened and demoralized was easily to be seen. But the aspect of affairs had suddenly changed, and as Christian van Sonerell had remarked, his unexpected appearance had caused them to alter their determination. "They have gathered in a body again," cried Tyler, stretching out an arm to detain John Marshall, "and see, there is their leader. What bad luck for us! For I had hoped that he had disappeared over the side for good. But he is with his men again, and there is no doubt that he will persuade them to renew the attack. Stand back, John, and employ the breathing-space allowed us in reloading our weapons. Then we shall be prepared to fight them again." "Ay, that we will, sir," was the ready answer; "we'll stand by one another as firm as two rocks, and when things get too warm for us, why, we'll be over the stern before they can look round. But I reckon that this time it will be a case for the gun." "I think so too," agreed Tyler, looking along the deck and noting with some concern that the mood of the pirates had already changed. "Their leader is no doubt telling them of the gold and stores below, and of the riches they will lose if they retreat. Depend upon it, now that they know of the presence of the ropes they will hack them asunder and come at us in a body. Well, if they do I'm fully prepared." At the words he thrust one hand into his pocket and commenced to rapidly replace the emptied cartridges in his revolver. Then, flicking a few more grains of powder into the touch-hole of the gun, lest by chance a gust of wind or some sudden jolt during the past conflict should have disturbed the fuse which he had already prepared, he placed the muzzle of his weapon across the top of the hole, and held it there in readiness to send a charge of grape bursting through the ranks of the pirates. As for John Marshall, the success which they had already enjoyed, the fact that it was he who had tossed the Dutchman overboard, and the example of coolness which Tyler had set him seemed to have raised his spirits to the highest. With a short reckless laugh he, too, commenced to cram cartridges into his weapons, and having completed the operation to his satisfaction, stood close beside his companion, one hand resting upon the bulwark and his eyes fixed upon the gathering of natives beyond. "Helloo!" he suddenly exclaimed, as the rays from the swinging lamp fell upon a figure ascending from the cabin below, "there's our friend the interpreter, looking a little upset after the blow I've given him. Just stand aside, Mr. Richardson, while I take a shot at the fellow. He's only a murderer, and if we treat him like a dog, neither he nor his comrades can complain." Lifting his left arm till the wrist was on a level with his eyes, John Marshall rested the muzzle of one of his weapons there, and took steady aim at the bulky figure of Hans Schlott, which could be seen in the companion-way. Squinting along the barrel, he was in the act of pulling the trigger when a movement on the part of the criminal disturbed his aim. Indeed it almost seemed as though Hans Schlott had dreamt of the danger threatening him, for in spite of the fact that the figures of the two young Englishmen were with difficulty visible through the darkness which covered the vessel, he suddenly ducked and disappeared below, the movement undoubtedly saving his life. A minute later he reappeared from the direction of the bows, having crawled to the deck by way of the men's quarters. Then he staggered towards Christian van Sonerell, as if still suffering from the stunning blow which John Marshall had delivered, and at once commenced to address him. "On them!" he shrieked in high-pitched tones, which grated upon Tyler's ears. "Rush at them, and sweep them out of existence, for if you do not, I tell you that we are doomed. Our lives will not be safe for another hour, for one of them, known to us as John Marshall, happened by ill chance to be in the cabin when I fired. He saw the deed, and I know well that neither he nor the other young fool will rest until we are captured. They must not escape! We must kill them, and then send their bodies to the bottom of the sea with some pounds of shot at their feet. Quick, I say, or even now, when the odds are against them, they will give us the slip, and bring a certain end to our fortunes." He gripped Christian van Sonerell by the arm so fiercely that the latter almost winced, while he bellowed the words in his ear as if the Dutchman were a mile away. Then, leaning against the bulwarks to support his unsteady weight, he shook his fist with frantic energy at the two dim figures to be seen in the stern, and called loudly to them. "Listen to me, you fools of Englishmen!" he shouted. "You think that because you have resisted us so far you will escape us altogether. But I tell you that that will not be the case. For lives which you have already taken you shall pay, and I prophesy that within five minutes both of you will be slain like your comrade below. Him I killed with my weapon, and see now, this is for you, Tyler Richardson." Scarcely had the words left his lips than a pistol-shot rang out, and a bullet struck heavily against the front of the binnacle, shattering there into a hundred fragments, which splashed the two young fellows standing beyond. A moment later Tyler's voice broke the silence. "A bad shot and an unsteady hand," he called out. "Now, hear my words, Hans Schlott, and you, too, who have aided him in this murderous attack. I swear that if I escape from this ship with my life I will never rest till I have hunted you down, for you are murderers. In cold blood you yourself killed my comrade, and for that act you shall be punished. Now, take my advice, leave the ship at once, for if you attack I will fire the gun and blow you to atoms." That the warning to which he had given vent caused consternation amongst the Malay pirates was evident, for up to this they had imagined that owing to the suddenness of their attack, and to its unexpected nature, the six-pounder in the stern of the schooner was harmless, and that Tyler's behaviour in arranging a fuse and tossing the covering aside was merely a blind with which to frighten them. Now, however, his own words assured them of the fact, for quite a few were able to understand their meaning, and instantly those who from the first had been inclined to show the white feather retreated to the bows of the ship, where they displayed every sign of terror. But it was not likely that two desperate men such as the Dutchmen were would permit themselves to be baulked of their prey in such a manner. Indeed, so carefully had their plans been made, so completely did Hans Schlott imagine that he had hoodwinked the leader of the expedition and his companions, that he was convinced that the sudden attack, the rising of the crew, and the arrival of a boat-load of Malay pirates had been unforeseen, and that plans for defence were wholly unprepared. Thanks to the secrecy which Tyler had observed, the crafty interpreter was ignorant of the fact that a conspiracy was suspected, and at the news that Tyler ventured to give him he openly scoffed, and at once turned to reassure the native following. "He lies!" he shouted. "Until I fired he was walking the deck half in his sleep, while his two companions lay below resting in their bunks. But for the weapons which they carry in their belts they have not a cartridge between them, while I swear to you that the gun is empty. Come, lead our men forward, Van Sonerell, and clear these Englishmen from our way." "Head the charge yourself," was the answer, "and show us that you too are able to fight. For myself, I will rush at them by your side, and do my best to help you; but much must not be expected of me, for, see here, my strength is gone, and I am weak with loss of blood." He pointed to his left shoulder, where Tyler's bullet had struck, and showed a large red patch which oozed through the cloth, and, mingled with the salt water with which his garment was saturated, splashed heavily to the deck. "Then join me and do your best," cried Hans Schlott, roused to desperation by the thought that if Tyler and his companion escaped there would be no peace for him, at any rate, in the neighbourhood of Borneo. "Forward, my men, for I swear to you that you have nothing but their pistols to fear. The gun contains air alone, and can do you no harm," he continued, turning to the Malay crew. "Come, we will rush at them and bear them from the deck." Snatching a cutlass from one of them, he waited to see that they were ready to aid him, and then came full tilt along the deck, his eyes fixed upon the six-pounder, which was dimly visible, and the direction of which he endeavoured to make out. A few seconds and he satisfied himself that the muzzle was presenting to the right, and instantly he changed the course of his frantic charge and came rushing along the opposite side of the deck. As for his companions in villainy, they too came towards the stern at their fastest pace, and, scattering as much as the narrow space between the bulwarks would allow, charged upon the young Englishmen, careless of the presence of the gun which Hans Schlott had assured them was empty. And all the while Tyler and his solitary companion stood there awaiting the conflict with steady courage, but with the certain knowledge that on this occasion they would be beaten back. Holding their fire until Hans Schlott and his Dutch comrade were within a few yards, they levelled their weapons steadily, and at a word from Tyler firmly pressed upon the trigger. Four times in succession did they discharge a bullet into the ranks of the attackers, and on each occasion one of the Malay crew threw his arms into the night and came crashing to the deck. But in spite of their efforts to bring down the leaders, Hans Schlott and Christian van Sonerell still remained unharmed upon their feet, seeming by a miracle to escape the bullets intended for them. Determined to slay the two Englishmen who stood between them and the rich prize which had aroused their cupidity, and brave in the knowledge that they had nothing to fear from the gun, they came on without a pause, and before Tyler could have thought it possible were at the binnacle. At once down came Hans Schlott's cutlass, severing the tightly-stretched cable with such swiftness that it flew aside with a twang, while the weapon itself hit the planks beneath and penetrated deeply. A wrench, and the blade was withdrawn, while the Dutchman prepared to sever the second and only remaining barrier which stretched between him and the Englishmen. "Stand aside!" shouted Tyler in warning tones, seeing that ere a minute had passed he and his companion would be overwhelmed "They are massed in a body, and will be upon us if we do not check them. Now, I will fire the gun, and dive overboard immediately afterwards." "Fire!" bellowed John, as if to encourage his young leader. "Blow them all clear of the decks." Swiftly placing the muzzle of his revolver against the top of the touch-hole, Tyler waited an instant to assure himself that his friend was clear of the discharge, and that the critical time had arrived. Then, steeling himself to the task, he pulled at the pistol, sending a livid flash against the breach of the gun. Fizz! The powder spluttered up in his face, giving out a column of dense smoke, which was swallowed up instantly by the sulphurous vapour which poured from the muzzle. There was a loud roar as the six-pounder spoke out into the night, and then, ere the echo had died down, and long before Hans Schlott and his accomplice could dart to the rear of the gun and fall upon the Englishmen, Tyler and John Marshall had sprung clear of the deck and were swimming through the deep water which surrounded the schooner. "For the dinghy!" said Tyler as he came to the surface, shaking the salt water out of his eyes. "But silence, or they will learn where we are and fire into us." "They are over the side, and will escape us," bellowed Hanns Schlott, peering over the bulwark in his endeavour to pierce the darkness. "Stand still, all of you, and hold your tongues, you men. Now, listen! Where are they?" "Swimming for their dinghy or I am mistaken," said Christian van Sonerell with an oath. "She lies directly aft, where the tide has set her, and if we fire in that direction we shall blow them out of the craft. Here, get aboard our own boat some of you lads, and after the English pigs. Now, Hanns, level your pistols and let go." The two Dutchmen at once leaned over the rail as far as they were able, and having judged what must be the position of the dinghy, fired together in that direction. But only the echoes from the neighbouring shore answered the reports, while the surface of the water, which had momentarily been lit by the flash from their weapons, again disappeared in the gloom of the night. "Missed!" growled Hanns Schlott. "It seems to me that we might as well expect to hit a fly under the circumstances. Let us not waste our time, but send a party after them at once. Fortunately we have a boat at our service, and can follow them. Take charge of the vessel while I go with our men and hunt down these Englishmen." "Do so," answered his comrade faintly, for now that the excitement of the contest was gone he was beginning to feel the effect of his wound. "After them, Hanns, my friend, and do not rest till you have killed them; for remember that one of them witnessed the shot which killed their leader, while if that were not sufficient to bring us to the gallows, their evidence as to this act of piracy would certainly lead to the loss of our lives." "I will hunt the island. I will follow as though they were rats upon whose extermination I am determined. Make your mind easy, Christian van Sonerell; this is a matter which concerns my safety perhaps more than your own, for I am the man who killed this Mr. Beverley. I will go to the end of the world to capture them, and when I have them in my hands, ah--!" He clenched his fists in the darkness, and ground his teeth with rage. Then, realizing that if he was to have the smallest hope of success he must not delay, he turned swiftly about, and, forgetful of the throbbing pain in his head, which had followed John's lusty blow, went racing along the deck to the point where the boat was made fast. Already a crew of willing Malays were seated in it, and as soon as the bulky Dutchman had lowered himself into the bows, one of the former threw off the painter and sent the boat away from the schooner with a vigorous thrust from his foot. "Pull!" shouted Hanns Schlott, using the Malay tongue. "An extra share of the prize if you lay hands upon these English dogs. Indeed, I myself will give a special reward to anyone who is successful in killing them. Pull! Let us not waste time, for if we are swift we shall overtake them ere they reach the shore." Dipping their long oars into the water, the crew of pirates sent the boat on her course, and within a few seconds she was well away from the schooner, with her nose directed for the island of Borneo. Meanwhile, what had happened to Tyler and his friend? Once their heads had risen free of the water, they had turned towards the point where they imagined the dinghy would be, and after swimming a few strokes had the good fortune to come across her in the darkness. At once each grasped her by the gunwale, and hung on there while they prepared for the final effort of climbing in. Suddenly, however, an idea occurred to Tyler. "No," he whispered, seeing that John was about to hoist himself up, "do not get into the boat yet awhile, for then we should be easy targets if they caught sight of us. Let us swim beside her, and push her away from the schooner." "The very thing, sir! There's the painter, and now I've slipped it from the ring. I reckon that they will follow towards the shore, for what would take us in the direction of the open sea?" "Then we'll do what they least expect," said Tyler sharply. "That way, John, and when we are a hundred yards from the ship let us lie still and listen. Then we shall learn what steps they are taking to capture us, and can make our plans accordingly." Acting on this advice, they silently pushed the small craft out to sea, swimming with one hand in the water and the other grasping the gunwale. Soon they had put quite a respectable distance between themselves and their enemies, and at a jerk from Tyler, who back-watered with his feet, and so attracted his comrade's attention, they hung without a movement in the deep water, and listened eagerly for sounds of the pursuers. "I heard pistols fired," said Tyler softly. "The sea was about my ears and deadened the sound, but for all that I am sure that they fired. Perhaps they thought that they saw us in the darkness, or, more likely, they let go their bullets in the hope of making a lucky shot." "That's the case, I reckon," answered John. "But steady, sir, the sound of a voice carries far across the sea on a still night like this. Listen to that. They are in their boat, and are after us. I can hear that ruffian's voice." Once again both were silent, while they turned their faces towards the shore and listened carefully. Yes, there could be no doubt about the matter, for Hanns Schlott's voice broke the stillness of the night as he urged his men at their oars. "To the shore!" he shouted. "I will give a handful of dollars to the man who lays his fingers upon them dead or alive. Can anyone see or hear them?" No answer was made to his question, though many eyes were staring into the darkness, and, therefore, without further delay they pulled on for the shore, hoping to capture the fugitives as they landed, or, if fortune were kind to them, to arrive on the shore of Borneo before the white men could reach it, and there lay a trap into which they would fall. As for Tyler and John Marshall, they clung to the frail boat for many minutes as she lay there motionless in the water, listening with all their ears for sounds of the pirates. So calm was the atmosphere, and so still the night, that, as the latter had remarked, the slightest sound travelled along the surface of the sea in a remarkable manner, and could be heard quite a distance away. Thanks to this fact, the splash of oars as the boat was rowed away from them reached their ears distinctly, as did also the hoarse commands of the Dutchman who accompanied the searchers as he gave the order to cease pulling. Then there was silence once more, and for many minutes the gentle lap of water against the frail sides of the dinghy could alone be heard. "We will tire their patience out by remaining where we are," whispered Tyler, "and fortunately for us the water is so warm that we are not likely to become chilled by remaining in it for a long period. Perhaps they will imagine that we have already landed, and in that case they will not venture to go far afield, for the night is too dark for pursuit. An hour or more of waiting may convince them that it is useless to remain, and as soon as they return to the schooner we will swim towards the land." "And supposing they remain ashore till the morning?" asked John Marshall in anxious tones. "In that case we should certainly be taken, unless, of course, we waited for, say, a couple of hours and then pushed our boat away to the right or left, so as to land farther up or down the coast." "It is a good idea, John," answered Tyler thoughtfully, "and if the pirates show signs of their determination to waylay us in the morning we will do as you say. For the present, however, I feel sure that we are acting for the best by lying quietly here. Our movements in the future must depend upon circumstances, though you may be sure of this, that whatever happens we will not be taken without a struggle. Unfortunately our weapons are practically useless, for the cartridges will have been destroyed by the water." "I don't know so much," whispered John hastily, "for just as I was going overboard I thought of the matter and crammed a handful into my cap, while I jammed it firmly down upon my head. It's made of thick pilot cloth, and as I was only under the surface for a few seconds, it's possible that the ammunition has escaped. Look here!" Pulling himself a little higher out of the water, he leaned his chin on the gunwale and gently drew his cap from his head. Then, one by one, he picked some twenty or more cartridges from the lining and placed them upon one of the seats. "Not even damp," he said in low tones of delight. "Now, let's have the revolvers and place them here to dry. The water will quickly drain away from them, and in half an hour or so they will be fit for use again." Dragging their weapons from their belts or pockets, as the young boatswain had suggested, they placed them within the boat with open breeches and muzzles pointing downwards. Then, satisfied that they had done all that was possible, they once more turned their attention to the schooner, and to the pirates who had landed upon the shore. "Hush!" whispered Tyler earnestly, some little time later, as a voice came reverberating across the water. "Someone is talking, and I think that it is the Dutchman." "Sure enough, sir," agreed John, "and what's more, he's hailing the schooner. I wonder what he's saying!" Both listened attentively, but owing to their ignorance of the Dutch language could make nothing of what they heard. That it was Hanns Schlott whose hail had come across the water, was evident, for both Tyler and John were well acquainted with the tones of his voice. Then someone shouted an answer back from the deck of the schooner, and again, in spite of the small knowledge that they had of Christian van Sonerell, they were certain that it was he who responded to his friend. "There is some movement afoot," remarked Tyler, placing his lips as close to John's ear as their respective positions would allow. "And hark! there is someone moving ashore. Yes, I heard the boat splash as she was run into the water, and there is the clatter of oars." Clinging there, with their heads just above the surface and their ears clear of the sea, both Tyler and his companion could hear the sounds as though they were made close at hand. Indeed, the calm sea, with its unruffled surface, seemed to accentuate the sounds and transmit them with such clearness that, though some hundreds of feet away, the noise of an oar falling into its place in the rowlock, and the splash as the blade was dipped, were heard as though close at hand. Then, at a word of command from Hanns Schlott, the boat shot from the shore, and the sound of many oars forcing her through the water came to their ears. "Going back to the schooner," whispered Tyler. "Have they given up the chase and decided to content themselves with the vessel as a prize, or are they merely returning there until the day dawns and allows them to carry on the pursuit with energy? We will wait and keep watch, and if there is no movement after an hour or more we will follow your plan." "And what if they are just going aboard to get more men?" said John Marshall eagerly. "Yer see, sir, it's a long stretch of coast to set a watch on, and that Dutch rascal is cute enough to know it. Supposing that's his game, then we shall find escape more difficult still, and shall have to swim a good mile or more to get clear of the watchers." "And when we touched the land we should never know whether we were beyond them or not," replied Tyler thoughtfully. "How many men do you think went ashore with Hanns Schlott?" "Just about the number that come aboard with the other rascal, sir." "And how many do you suppose are now aboard the schooner, John?" "Ten at the most, and that's an outside figure," was the unhesitating answer. "I reckon that the Dutchman cleared off with his own fellows, leaving behind the crew which manned the schooner." "Then we will change our plans, and for the present will decide not to go ashore," said Tyler resolutely. "If Hanns Schlott has come to fetch more men, as I feel sure he has, we will wait until he and the crew have reached the shore again. Then, John, my friend, we will float silently down upon the schooner, and will do our best to take possession of our property. We have arms at hand to help us, and if only we can effect a complete surprise we should be able to drive the pirates from the deck. Steady! The boat has just reached the vessel, and by the sounds which come to us I feel sure that some of the crew are entering her." That this was the case was quickly evident, for within a few minutes the splash of oars again sounded across the water, while the pirates' boat was pulled towards the shore, this time manned by more men than had accompanied her on her outward journey. CHAPTER VI Courage Wins the Day For long did Tyler Richardson and his companion John Marshall maintain silence as they clung to the boat, for they were conscious that the slightest sound, even a gentle splash or hasty movement in the water, might declare their whereabouts to the pirates who still remained upon the schooner. Scarcely daring to breathe, they listened eagerly, and ere long had convinced themselves that Hanns Schlott had returned to the vessel for one purpose alone, and that was to obtain more men, whom he might place at intervals along that part of the coast of Borneo, there to wait for the landing of the Englishmen. Indeed, had there been any doubt in Tyler's mind, the squeaking of the oars and the more frequent splash of paddles told him at once that a greater number were in the boat on this occasion. Then, too, resting there as he did with his eyes on a level with the surface, the schooner every now and again became dimly silhouetted against the stars, and by peering steadily in her direction the feeble rays of the riding-lamp enabled him to distinguish some half-dozen figures which alone seemed to occupy the deck. "Give Hanns Schlott and his rascals half an hour to reach the shore and separate," he whispered in John's ear. "Then we will float slowly down upon the schooner, and endeavour to make the boat fast. After that we will climb aboard and see how matters stand, though I am determined, whatever the odds, to regain possession of her." An hour later silence had once more settled down upon the neighbourhood, and though the two young fellows had been careful to listen all the while, nothing had occurred to arouse anxiety. Once Hanns Schlott and his boat-load of Malays had reached the shore there had been confused shouts and words of command, but these had quickly died down as the pirates separated and went to their stations. An occasional cry denoted the fact that they were still within hearing, but very soon they were silent, and once more stillness came over the sea. "Now for the schooner!" whispered Tyler in tones which he endeavoured to steady; "come to the stern of the boat, John, and help me to shove her along. But first let us discuss our plans so that there shall be no confusion. We must make for our old position, and if it is possible we must contrive to load the six-pounder again. Otherwise there may be sufficient men aboard to rush upon us and sweep us into the sea." "Not if we once get safely on her deck," answered John Marshall stubbornly. "It'll want more than the crew of Malays to turn us out, I reckon. Jest you take a bit of advice from me, Mr. Richardson, and when we get aboard go tooth and nail for those fellows. A rush, a few shots into their midst, and some hard knocks with our fists'll send 'em leaping overboard, and once that's the case we'll up anchor and away. Then our turn will come to talk to these Dutchmen, and Hanns Schlott and his comrade shall take our place. We'll turn the tables on 'em, sir, and do our best to capture 'em. But I'm under your orders, and ready to obey." Having given vent to his feelings, the boatswain moved gently along the gunwale till he joined Tyler at the stern, when the two at once commenced to push the dinghy towards the schooner. With shoulders sunk beneath the surface, and finger-tips alone resting upon the edge of the boat, they urged her gently through the sea, halting every now and again to make sure that they were unobserved. At last they arrived close to their destination, and at once, at a nudge from Tyler, turned towards the stern. "Now for the painter!" whispered the latter. "Remain where you are while I go for'ard. When you feel the boat shaking you will know that all is in readiness, and can creep along towards me." A moment later he had disappeared in the darkness, and though his companion peered in the direction which he had taken he could see no sign of him. A gentle splash, however, told that he was moving, and ere long a sharp dip as the dinghy was pulled to one side told him that Tyler had been successful. At once the sailor commenced to move towards him, and soon found himself beside his leader and directly beneath the schooner's stern. "We are in luck," whispered Tyler, placing his lips close to John's ears, "for one of the ropes which stretched from the binnacle, and was severed by Hanns Schlott, is trailing over the side and will help us to ascend. Here it is. Keep the tail of it in your hand while I swarm up, and be ready to follow immediately." Without further explanation he thrust the end of the cable into his companion's hand, and then, grasping the other portion, slowly raised himself out of the water. Lifting one hand above the other, it was not long before his fingers lit upon the bulwarks, and at once relinquishing the rope, he clambered over on to the deck, where he was soon joined by John Marshall. "Now let us lie down and listen," he whispered. "Then if anyone is about we shall get notice of their presence before they catch sight of us, and shall know how to act. If the decks are empty we will creep below and will see what can be done in the way of ammunition." Crouching close to the bulwarks they lay for some five minutes without venturing to move, peering all the while into the darkness to discover, if possible, some trace of the Malays. But not a soul was to be seen, and though they left their hiding-place and crept into the bows, no trace could be found of the pirates. "All sleeping below," whispered John Marshall with a chuckle, "and taking it easy after the fight. The Dutchman will be down in the cabin, occupying one of our bunks, for all the world as though he were owner of the vessel, but we'll turn him out in double-quick time and give him cause to regret the fact that he failed to set a watch. What's the next move, sir?" "Remain on deck while I go below," answered Tyler promptly. "But wait, we have forgotten our revolvers, and must return for them. Slip along to the stern with me and I will drop into the dinghy and hand them up to you. That done, we shall feel more confidence, and shall have something with which to defend ourselves should the crew discover our presence. Now, stand by!" Taking care to impart his orders in a whisper, Tyler quickly reached the stern and once more grasped the rope. Then, swinging himself over the rail, he lowered himself till his feet touched the water within a few inches of the dinghy. Groping in the darkness as he dangled there it was not long before his toe struck with a gentle tap against the gunwale, and at once he began to draw the boat towards him. A moment later he was safely on board, and had grasped the weapons for which he had returned. A glance above showed him John Marshall's figure stretching out towards him, and ere long the revolvers and the cartridges had been safely transferred. "Load them," he said shortly, as soon as he had reached the deck once more. "That's right, and now we shall be ready for this Dutchman and his Malays. Come with me to the companion, John, and wait there while I descend. If you hear a suspicious sound, tap the deck gently with your foot so as to warn me, but whatever you do be careful not to raise a shout, for then they would know at once that we were on board." Waiting only to make sure that the sailor understood his meaning, he stepped upon the ladder and descended rapidly. Arrived below, he lay down upon the floor of the cabin and listened breathlessly, till the sound of heavy breathing from the farther end told him that Christian van Sonerell was sleeping there. "Let him wait," murmured Tyler beneath his breath. "Once the gun is loaded and we are in readiness, we will drive him and those of the Malays who remain aboard into the sea, where they must swim for their lives. It is the only way in which we can deal with them, for if we endeavoured to make them prisoners by securing them down below we should never know what it was to enjoy a moment's peace until we fell in with friends, while we should run the risk of having our plans suddenly upset, and the tables turned upon us with a vengeance. Now for the magazine!" Creeping across the floor it was not long before he arrived at the door in the bulkhead which gave admission to the cupboard in which the powder and shot carried by the schooner was stored. Fortunately he had failed to lock it on the previous evening, so that a gentle twist of the handle released the catch and allowed him to enter. After that he had no difficulty in obtaining what he wanted, for he had helped to place the ammunition in the cabin before leaving Singapore, and knew the exact position of the bags of powder and shot. Very soon he was outside the magazine once more, and having crept cautiously across the cabin, went staggering up the ladder bearing a couple of bags over each shoulder. "To the stern!" he whispered, as John Marshall's face came into view, "and get ready to help me with the gun. After that we'll cut away the anchor and make ready to hoist the sail." "It'll be a big job for the two of us alone," was the sailor's whispered answer. "But we can get a foresail on her at any rate, and that will take us out to sea. Give me hold of one of them bags, sir. They're a tidy weight, and want a little carrying." Taking a couple of the sacks which contained the ammunition, he went softly along the deck with Tyler until they had reached the stern, where their burdens were deposited beside the gun. Then silently, and with every precaution to avoid making a sound which would arouse the Malays, they crammed a charge of powder into the six-pounder, and rammed down upon it a couple of bags of grape. A piece of sacking over all helped to keep the bullets in position, and destroyed all chance of their rolling from the muzzle should it be found necessary to depress the weapon. "And now for the anchor," said Tyler when the work had been completed to his satisfaction. "Jest leave that to me," was the whispered answer. "I'll let it go for good and all by cutting the cable. It's lucky for us that we haven't a chain one aboard, for then we'd certainly have made a noise when freeing it. As for another anchor, there's a couple stowed away in the locker below." Slipping to the stern-rail he quickly laid hold of the cable, and, drawing his knife from his pocket, severed it at one attempt. Then he rejoined Tyler, and as if to show his coolness, indeed, as if he already considered that the schooner had returned to the keeping of those who had a good right to her, and Tyler was his commander, he touched his hat briskly and asked what the next order might be. "The sail," said Tyler shortly. "We'll hoist the foresail and leave the others till later. But we must show some canvas, for otherwise those fellows ashore will be after us with their boat, and, besides, we have to think of the prahu. But one thing at a time. Let us get the sail up and then discuss other matters. Now into the bows!" Slipping along the deck once more, they passed the entrance to the cabin like ghosts, and halted for a few seconds to listen. Then, satisfied that Christian van Sonerell was sleeping peacefully, if a murderer and a pirate can do so at all, they crept on into the bows and at once set about hoisting the foresail. But here their difficulties were greater, for beneath them rested the Malays who were still aboard, men with the sharpest ears, and, moreover, sailors who slept but lightly. That Tyler and his companion could hope to do all that they wished without discovery was almost impossible, and neither would be surprised to be disturbed in the midst of the work. "Up with it now!" said Tyler quickly. "All is ready for hoisting, and if only we can get it in position we shall feel more secure. But I hear someone moving. Don't stop, but finish the job at once." That someone had heard their steps above, or the clatter of a falling rope, quickly became evident, for as they tugged and strained, a head suddenly emerged from the hatchway leading to the men's quarters, while a pair of sleepy eyes peered round in the half-darkness. "I heard sounds," murmured the man, while Tyler and John Marshall crouched motionless upon the deck. "A rope fell, and I even thought that I distinguished a step. But no one is about. We have driven the beggarly white men off the ship, and but for a few of us who are lucky to be left, all are gone ashore there to waylay the Englishmen. Perhaps our brothers have returned, and have not cared to awake us. It surely cannot be our enemies who have been bold enough to attempt to take the schooner!" He scoffed at the thought, and hearing no sound to awake his suspicions, and seeing no sign of his comrades, he turned and began to descend. Suddenly, however, aided by the feeble rays from the swinging lantern, his eyes fell upon the two crouching figures, and for a moment he was dumbfounded with astonishment. Then he peered in their direction, and, suddenly coming to the conclusion that danger threatened, he slid below at his fastest pace, shouting so as to arouse his companions. "The dogs are upon us!" he cried, rushing at the sleeping figures and shaking them fiercely. "Rise and prepare for fighting, for I tell you that the ship is taken, and that the Englishmen have returned." "Impossible!" growled one of the Malays, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Consider; they are but two, while there are seven of us in all, not counting our Dutch leader. You are mistaken, and have been suffering from a nightmare." "Impossible, do you say?" was the heated answer. "I am not dreaming, and I say to you that unless you make a movement to protect yourself, you will quickly be killed. Ho, all of you! We are attacked! The ship is taken!" Meanwhile Tyler and his comrade had been busily at work. Realizing that they still had a few moments before them while the native crew were aroused and informed of their presence, they threw themselves upon the sail, and by dint of tugging together at the rope managed to hoist it into position. Then they fled back to the stern and began to make preparations for defence. "I can feel that we are under weigh," said Tyler, peering over the side. "That is capital, and now all that we have to do is to drive the crew overboard, and then clear away from the prahu. What course do you propose, John?" "Along the island," was the emphatic answer. "Yer see, sir, we've the prahu to think about, and have to make our plans to get clear away from her as well as from Hans Schlott and his villains. If we had a couple or more men aboard to lend us their help we should be able to pile more sail upon her, but as it is, two will not be capable of doing the work, at least not in a hurry. Then those native boats sail like the wind, and would overtake us easily." "Then your suggestion is that we should coast along the island, and if pursued by the prahu slip into some creek." "Just so, sir; and what's more, we'll have to abandon the schooner, I expect, for otherwise they would be down upon us, and once our guns have been fired would easily capture us. Better to take to the swamps of the forest than have our throats cut by these rascals." "Hush!" whispered Tyler at this moment, "Christian van Sonerell is coming up the ladder and the struggle will soon begin. We will wait until all have reached the deck, and then we will call upon them to leave the vessel. If they refuse, or do not instantly obey, we will begin to fire amongst them, and I fancy that the contents of the six-pounder will help them to make up their minds. Stand ready!" As he spoke, the faint gleams of the lamp which still burned in the rigging showed them the figure of the Dutchman standing in the companion-way, while directly afterwards the crew of Malays who had been left upon the schooner came climbing from their quarters, shouting in frightened voices to one another. "What is this commotion?" demanded the Dutchman angrily, for he was annoyed at having his sleep disturbed. "You cry out like babies who have been hurt, and one would think that a boat-load of British sailors was about to board us. Go back to your quarters and let us rest at peace during the remainder of the night, for remember, we have had many hours of hard work, and I have a wound which troubles me." Turning upon the Malays fiercely he shook his fist in their direction, and growled out the words in surly tones. "But I tell you that we are attacked," cried one of the natives rushing up to him. "Only a few moments ago I saw two figures crouching in the bows. The lamp which swings aloft lit the dark corner in which they hid, and at once I recognized them as the hated white men. I tell you that we are attacked, that these Englishmen have climbed aboard while we in our foolishness slept, and have captured the schooner." "Silence, idiot!" shouted Christian van Sonerell, stepping towards the man. "The vessel captured by the two fugitives! Why, if they have dared to come aboard it will be at the cost of their lives. Where are they? Point them out to me and I will soon show you who is the owner of this schooner." "There is no need for you to be told where we are," called out Tyler at this instant, "for we are back in our old position, and while you slept have contrived to load the gun. It is crammed to the muzzle with bullets, and I will fire the charge amongst you if you do not instantly leave. Overboard with every one of you! I give you five seconds in which to disappear." Had a bomb-shell suddenly fallen at the feet of the Dutchman he could not have been more startled or more taken aback, for he had never dreamed that the fugitives would dare to return to the schooner. Indeed, he had taken it for granted that ere he awoke in the morning Hanns Schlott and the men who were with him would have laid hands upon them and killed them instantly. And now to be awakened suddenly, before the morning had dawned, and to come on deck to find that the Englishmen had returned, was a surprise, a piece of news which astounded him. At Tyler's words he started back as if he had been shot, while his face flushed with indignation and with rage at the commands which had been given. "Leave the ship," he cried hoarsely, "and at the bidding of two who are little more than children! Their insolence astonishes me, and for the moment takes my breath away. Listen, you two. You have fallen into a trap, and had better relinquish your arms. Surrender at once and my men will bind you." "Fire!" shouted Tyler, who had been carefully counting the seconds. "Empty your revolver amongst them!" Levelling their weapons at the Malay crew, the two opened upon them without hesitation, a shriek and the thud of a falling body answering the first shot. Then a faint-hearted attempt was made to charge towards the stern, led by the burly Dutchman. But a lucky bullet happening to strike the leader, checked the natives almost instantly, and, realizing at once that they were no match for the two Englishmen, who had already shown how stubbornly they could fight, the natives ran towards the bulwarks and jumped overboard. As for Tyler and his companion, they sprang to the spot and discharged their weapons into the sea in the hope of hitting some of the fugitives, but without success. Then they turned to the prostrate figure of the Dutchman and closely inspected it. "Dead!" said the former quietly, rolling Christian van Sonerell upon his back. "The bullet struck him fair between the eyes and must have killed him instantly." "Then he is a lucky man," cried John Marshall, "for had he lived and escaped from the schooner he would, sooner or later, have come to the gallows for this act of piracy. As it is, Hanns Schlott alone is left, and we will hunt him down until he is captured and brought to justice." "We will," agreed Tyler earnestly, "for remember, the Dutchman, who still lives, has his hands stained with the blood of our leader. You yourself witnessed the murder, and for that base crime he shall hang. I swear to hunt him down, for otherwise, if I relinquish the matter he will go unpunished, and will still continue to rob and murder in these seas. But this man is dead, and therefore had better be tossed overboard. Let us search his pockets and then do as I have said." Kneeling beside the body of the Dutchman they rapidly ransacked his pockets, and having abstracted some papers and other objects of little importance, bore the lifeless figure to the side. Then with a heave they sent all that remained of Christian van Sonerell splashing into the sea. "And now to set our course," said Tyler. "Go to the stern, John, and take the tiller, for you are a practised seaman, while I am little more than a novice. I will go into the bows and dowse the lamp, for it would never do to leave it hanging there. Then I shall creep below and search every corner of the vessel to see that none of the Malays remain. Just keep your ears and eyes open, my lad, for the shouting and the report of our revolvers must have been heard ashore by Hanns Schlott and his men, while those who plunged overboard will quickly reach the land, for these natives are excellent swimmers." Waiting to see John Marshall go into the stern and grasp the tiller, he felt for the line by which the riding-lamp was hoisted and rapidly lowered it to the deck. Then he took it in his hand and descended into the cabin. Here, as he fully expected, he found everything in confusion. Pillows and blankets lay scattered upon the floor where the Malays had tossed them when searching the bunks for valuables. The table which had stood in the centre lay crushed and shapeless in one corner, while the pistol with which the murderer had slain Mr. Beverley was half-hidden beneath it. As for the latter, there was no sign of his body, and it became evident at once that, as in the case of those who had lost their lives during the struggle on the deck, it had been committed to the sea. "Perhaps it is better so," murmured Tyler, "for had I seen him here lying murdered in his bunk the sight could only have shocked and distressed me. I know that he is dead, for John actually witnessed the deed. That being the case, I have but one duty to accomplish, and that is to bring Hanns Schlott to justice. And now for the other parts of the schooner." Passing into the bows, he peered closely into every corner, opening the lockers lest one of the Malays should be concealed on board. Then, satisfied that he and John were alone on the vessel, and that they were in command once more, he dowsed the light and clambered to the deck. "They're hollering fit to hurt themselves," said John with a chuckle, "and I reckon that Hanns Schlott is jest silly with rage. He's calling his men together, and I've no doubt that they'll be putting off from the shore. But it's getting darker, as it often does a couple of hours before the dawn, and now that the light has gone from the rigging, and we have slipped away from our berth, he'll have a precious hard job to find us. But that foresail don't send us along more than a couple of knots an hour, and when the sun comes up we shall be still in sight of the prahu. Then them pirates will come swooping down upon us, and we shall have to make for the shore." "Then we'll try to hit upon a river," said Tyler. "I had many a chat with Mr. Beverley on our way out from England, and together we went over the maps and charts dealing with the island of Borneo. He told me that there were numerous bays along the coast-line, and that one or more rivers ran into them as a rule. In fact in some parts the shore is a swamp in which trees abound, and through which navigation is sometimes possible. It may turn out that we shall have the fortune to strike an opening which will allow us to sail some way into the interior, for the water-ways are wide, and it is fairly certain that a ship can penetrate many miles from the coast. After that a boat would be necessary, for there are shallows higher up. But until the day breaks we can make no plans, and as it is pretty certain that we shall be seen and followed by Hanns Schlott and the crew of the prahu, it will be well if we make preparations to resist them. Stay where you are, John, while I get out some ammunition and load the gun. We'll leave the six-pounder in the stern loaded with grape, while we'll put a ball into the one right for'ard." Once more the two young fellows parted company, John Marshall to stand at the helm and listen to the shouts which came from the shore, while Tyler promptly set about loading the gun which stood in the bows. That done, he brought from below a supply of muskets and ammunition, and having prepared them, placed them at intervals along the deck. "And now for something to eat," he said to himself. "John and I have been at work for many hours, and the fighting and the excitement of this business have given me an appetite. It seems to me that we should be foolish to neglect this opportunity of eating, for once the day comes our attention will be fully occupied with the pirates. I'll just see what is to be found in the lockers." Lighting the lamp once more, he went to that portion of the schooner where a supply of food and drink was kept, and quickly went swarming up on deck with some slices of ham, a few biscuits, and a couple of bottles of beer. "Jest the thing!" exclaimed John Marshall, allowing a broad grin of pleasure to overspread his features. "Jest what I wanted; and hang me! now that the food's before me, I remember that I'm as hungry as can be. Share and share alike, sir, and make no enemies. Here's a corkscrew in my knife, and there's a blade as well if we want it." Seating themselves upon the deck, Tyler and his companion fell upon the good things with eagerness, washing down the dry biscuit and ham with a bottle of beer. Then they chatted in low tones, John occasionally rising to his feet to make sure that the sound of breakers as the sea washed upon the shore was no nearer. Occasionally a faint shout came to them across the water, and once they heard the splash of oars; but very quickly all signs of the enemy disappeared, and they floated along, for all they knew, alone in that portion of the world. Indeed, the fact that they had beaten back the pirates and regained possession of the vessel, and that Hans Schlott and his Malays had for the moment disappeared from their view, raised their spirits to the highest, so much so that they joked and laughed there as they crouched upon the deck. And who could blame them, in spite of the fact that they had so recently lost their leader? For their escape had been wonderful, and the relief to their minds was great. Reviewing the events of the night as he sat there beside John Marshall, Tyler could not suppress the feeling of elation with which he was filled. Everything had been so sudden, and almost unexpected. The death of Mr. Beverley, the advent of the boat-load of pirates, and the desperate struggle which followed had come with such startling swiftness that his mind was still in a whirl, while his thoughts were so full of the narrow escape which they had had, and of plans for the future, that his brain was as yet incapable of appreciating to the full the loss which he had suffered. Vaguely he mourned the death of a man who had been a good friend to him, and in his quiet and determined manner he decided that, once he could see his way to following Hans Schlott, he would do so with all the energy of which he was capable. But for the present he and the boatswain were fugitives themselves, while the rascally Dutchman and his crew of Malays were the pursuers. How could they contrive to escape from the prahu, and if they were forced to take refuge on the island, how would they ever be able to communicate with their friends? "We must make as complete preparations for an extensive journey across the island as we possibly can," said Tyler, breaking the silence which had been maintained between the two for almost an hour. "You see, Mr. Beverley's intention was to land upon the coast somewhere hereabouts, and then to strike for the interior. His object was partly to obtain particulars as to the productiveness and mineral value of Borneo, and partly to hunt for rubber, which is becoming very rare, and which always obtains a high price in European markets. He equipped himself with all manner of articles, and though we cannot hope to carry much with us, we can at least take what will be most necessary for our safety." "Guns, for instance!" exclaimed John Marshall shortly. "I reckon that our revolvers, a fowling-piece, and a rifle, with the necessary ammunition, will be far more useful to us than anything else. For food we can rely upon our weapons, and after that what else do we want?" "Strong boots and clothes, I should say," replied Tyler swiftly. "Mr. Beverley told me that rain is to be expected daily in the island, and that the journey would take us through the thickest forests and deep swamps. Obviously, then, it will be well to look carefully to our clothes, and assure ourselves that we are well provided in that respect." "And what about the schooner?" John ventured to demand. "You won't desert her and leave her for the use of Hans Schlott?" "Certainly not. Once it becomes clear that we must abandon our ship we will sink her or burn her, whichever is easiest. Then we can get ashore in the dinghy, and once in the swamps I think we shall be able to laugh at the pirates. But then there will be the natives to be considered, and in their case we must hope for the best." "Quite so, sir," agreed the boatswain; "and as to getting rid of the ship, I vote that we sink her, for we can see to the necessary arrangements now, and once the day comes shall feel that we have all in readiness. There's a double-handed augur in my locker, and some chips of wood which will act as plugs, and which we can knock out of the holes once the time arrives for sinking the schooner. Lay hold of the tiller, sir, and leave the job to me." Handing the ship into Tyler's care, he went off along the deck and disappeared below. Half an hour later, when he returned, it was with the information that he had bored sufficient holes to sink the schooner, and that a couple of minutes with a hammer would suffice to knock the plugs out. "And now for our preparations for landing," said Tyler. "It looks to me as though we might expect the dawn to break at any moment, and I think that we ought to be particularly careful to have everything in readiness for instant flight. Take over the helm again, my lad, while I go below and get rid of this uniform, and put a pair of strong boots on my feet. When I come up I shall bring the weapons of which we spoke and a good supply of ammunition. Then you can follow my example, and make ready for a journey by land." "Not forgetting a good hearty meal before we leave the schooner," cried the boatswain with a laugh. "By dawn we shall have been a couple of hours or more without a bite, and who can say when we shall be able to get our next supply of food? So let's go prepared in every way for a long journey and for rapid flight." Hastily agreeing to this suggestion, Tyler once more dived into the cabin of the schooner, and going to his own particular quarters commenced to don the suit of clothes which he had purchased at Singapore. A pair of thick boots and a strong felt hat completed his apparel; while a belt around his waist, in which was a strong sheathed knife, formed a convenient place in which to secure his revolvers. "And now for a bag in which to carry ammunition," he said to himself. "I know that several were included in our equipment, and I think that if we carried one over each shoulder they would prove of the greatest service to us, for then, besides taking powder and shot, we could carry with us some spare stockings. Also, I must not forget that uncivilized natives are particularly fond of cheap knick-knacks, and as we are nearly sure to come in contact with some of them, I will certainly carry a few scarves and looking-glasses with me. Of course, if the pursuit is very keen, we shall have to throw all these things away and retain our rifles only, but I hope it will not come to that; in fact, I have made up my mind that once it becomes clear that the prahu will overtake us if we remain at sea, I shall run in to the land as rapidly as possible so as to get a long start. But I must not waste time, for already the sky is getting lighter." Bustling about in the depths of the schooner he quickly unearthed the various articles of which he had spoken, and rapidly made a selection. Then he came climbing to the deck, his arms loaded with weapons and ammunition. Half an hour later John Marshall had followed his young leader's example, and was dressed in the suit which Mr. Beverley was to have worn. Slinging the bags over their shoulders, the two carefully deposited in one of them an abundance of ammunition, which they had calculated should last them with ordinary care for a considerable period. Into the other each dropped a number of gaudy articles with which to please the eye of any of the Dyak tribes with whom they might come in contact. Weapons were now loaded, each of the young fellows selecting a rifle, while a light fowling-piece was placed near at hand, which they would take it in turns to carry. Feeling now that they had done all that was possible, they sat down upon the deck in their old position and waited for the morning. Nor was their patience destined to be severely tried, for hardly was their meal finished than the sky in the east broke suddenly, the dark clouds giving place to a bank of dull-gray vapour. Five minutes and the latter was tinged with a rosy hue, to change again to a glorious golden colour. Then up shot the sun, and ere they could believe it, another eventful day was full upon them. Instantly both searched the coast-line of Borneo and the sea in every direction. "The prahu," cried Tyler in startled tones, "and far closer to us than I should have wished! See, she has already sighted us, and is bearing down in our direction!" "Then we must make for that bay," said the boatswain quietly. "It's a bit of luck that we have hit it off so nicely, for I reckon that with this wind we should reach the shore an hour ahead of the prahu. Over with the tiller, sir, and then leave the steering to me, while you go for'ard and train the six-pounder round upon her." A minute later the schooner was headed directly for the opening of a narrow bay opposite which she happened to be as the day dawned, and through the waters of which she was soon plunging. Indeed it seemed as though she too desired to increase the distance between herself and the native prahu which followed, for she careened to her foresail, and, helped by the strong tide which was making into the bay, went shooting in through the entrance, and rounding a sharp promontory which jutted out into the sea and which had prevented a clear view of the shore beyond, headed straight for a narrow inlet which lay in front of her. "A river!" exclaimed Tyler, with a shout of joy as he stood by the for'ard gun and swung the muzzle round till it presented out to sea. "A river, and to all appearance sufficiently wide to allow us to sail directly in, and so get clear of Hanns Schlott and his rascals. Once we are in fresh water, and out of their sight, we will look for a convenient landing-place, and then out shall come those plugs. Yes, if we cannot keep the schooner in our own hands she shall go to the bottom. Ah! the prahu has come into view again round that point of land, and as there is an abundance of ammunition below, I shall take a shot at her." Carefully training the weapon upon the native prahu, he waited until she had drawn a little closer. Then with a match he fired the powder and sent a ball hurtling in her direction. "A good shot!" shouted John Marshall, glancing eagerly over his shoulder to see what success his young leader had had. "There goes the ball ricochetting across her bows. An inch or two to the left would have plumped it right aboard, for the elevation is just right. Try again, Mr. Richardson, for there is luck in even numbers." Encouraged by the success of his first attempt, Tyler dived below and quickly returned with more ammunition; then with the greatest care he levelled the weapon a second time and fired, with the result that the ball struck the prahu heavily. Instantly a puff of smoke burst from her bows, and a shot came whizzing over the schooner, narrowly missing the mast. "Two can play at the same game, that is evident," cried Tyler, undismayed by their narrow escape. "I will give them another shot or two, and then I fancy that it will be time for us to get ashore, for a well-aimed ball from the prahu might damage us severely and spoil our plans." For the third time he trained the six-pounder upon the enemy, and, waiting for a moment till the muzzle of the gun covered the prahu, he sent a shot screeching in her direction. Crash! Even at that distance he could almost hear the missile strike upon her deck, and a keen glance showed him that the utmost confusion had resulted, for Malays could be seen rushing towards the spot, while a burly figure standing beside the tiller shook a fist furiously in the air. But whatever the damage done, it did not retard the course of the prahu. She came on at a rapid rate, her sails bellying out in the breeze, and her lee-rail awash with the water. "It is high time that we made for the shore," exclaimed Tyler. "I see that we are now entering the river, and within five minutes we ought to be round the bend which hides the upper reaches. Keep at your post, John, and head her to the left. Then, the instant we are round the corner, bring her up into the wind and put the weapons in the dinghy. While you are doing that I will go below, and as soon as I have knocked the plugs out of the holes we will say farewell to the schooner. Now, over with her!" With a swing the vessel shot round the angle of land which seemed to bar the opening of the river, and having been allowed to run forward some two hundred yards, until hidden by a dense mass of forest trees which intervened between herself and the prahu, she was thrown with her head into the wind, which set her sail flapping loosely. With a twist of a rope attached to the bulwarks John Marshall secured the tiller in position, and at once commenced to carry out Tyler's orders. As for the latter, he ran below and, seizing the hammer, began to knock out the plugs which kept the schooner from sinking. At any other time, no doubt, he would have hesitated before doing such a thing, for the ship was not his own property, and to sacrifice her seemed almost an act of folly. But an instant's thought convinced him that it was the only thing that he could do, and therefore he set to at the work with the full knowledge that by sinking the ship he prevented her from falling into the hands of the pirates. "That will soon send her to the bottom!" he exclaimed as he dragged the last plug from its position, and stood there watching some dozen columns of clear water spouting up into the hold. "And now to get ashore." With one last glance around he ran to the ladder and quickly rejoined his companion. Then both hastily quitted the schooner, and, taking their places in the tiny dinghy, pulled for the shore. CHAPTER VII Flight across the Land "We will take it easy, for we have ample time in which to reach the trees," said Tyler calmly, as he and John Marshall pulled towards the land. "Once there, we will select a hiding-place and keep watch upon the schooner, and upon the prahu as soon as she rounds the bend. If, as seems more than likely, her boat is dropped and preparations are made to send a party in pursuit, we will steal off into the forest, using the utmost care to leave as few traces behind us as is possible. A few more strokes and we are there. Now out you get, John, and give me a hand to pull up the dinghy, for we will hide her amongst the bushes in case we should have need of her on a future occasion." Waiting until the boat struck against the soft bank of mud at the mouth of the river, the two sprang ashore, and, lifting the dinghy bodily from the water, carried her up amongst the bushes. A hasty search soon discovered a mass of dense undergrowth, into the centre of which she was thrust. "That should keep her from all prying eyes," remarked Tyler in tones of satisfaction, "while a cross on one of the trees near at hand will serve as a mark by which we shall be able to find her when we come this way again. Now for the bags and rifles, and afterwards we will turn our attention to the schooner, and to Hanns Schlott and his friends." Slinging bags and weapons over their shoulders, Tyler and his companion left the dinghy in her hiding-place, and having marked an adjacent tree, returned to the bank of the river once more. There was the schooner with her head in the wind and her sail flapping loudly. That she was deeper in the water both could see at once, while the manner in which she careened to one side told them that very soon she would sink to the bottom. As for the prahu, there was not a sign of her as yet, though distant shouts told clearly that she could not be far away. "She will round the bend before the schooner goes down," said Tyler in tones of conviction, "and then Hanns Schlott will meet with another disappointment. I have no doubt that he has guessed our object in making for this river, and knows well that it is our intention to escape him by that means or by the land. But he will hardly have expected such complete preparations as we have made, and his anger will be great when he finds how we have hoodwinked him. But let us make up our minds in what direction we shall go. Shall we strike up along the banks of the river, or shall we turn to the south and west?" "The last, sir," was John Marshall's emphatic answer, "for I reckon that if we made up the stream we should strike across creeks and smaller rivers running into the main channel, and should be constantly delayed. Besides this, Hanns Schlott and his fellows will have seen our dinghy, and will guess that we have rowed up stream in her, hoping in that way to escape them. That being the case, we must do exactly the opposite, and must go into the forest. Then, when the search is over or night falls, we can return to this spot and cross to the other side; for that, I take it, is our direction." "Sarawak is the point for which we must aim, and, as you say, it lies south-west across the river," replied Tyler. "I happen to know that an Englishman, by name James Brooke, is there at this moment, and if we could only reach him we should be perfectly safe. But it is a long journey from here, and before we can hope to come across it we shall have to cover two hundred miles at least. However, I would far rather travel double that distance than fall into the hands of the pirates." "The same here, sir," exclaimed his companion. "Like you, I'd face anything almost, for there will be little mercy if Hanns Schlott puts his fingers on us. But look up! Here's the prahu!" Lying concealed amongst the trees, the two watched with beating hearts as the native craft swung round the bend and came into the river, and each noted with feelings of alarm, which they could not easily suppress, that her deck was covered with men. At her tiller stood Hanns Schlott, and, catching sight of the schooner, he at once directed the prahu towards her. Then shouts of exultation came across the water, and the Malays were seen preparing to throw themselves on board their prize the instant that they came up with her. It was pretty to watch the manner in which her lateen sails were dropped when well within reach of her prize, and at another time the fugitives would have admired the seamanlike way in which the operation was carried out, and Hanns Schlott's handling of the craft. But they had other and far more engrossing things to occupy their attention, and kept their eyes riveted upon the dusky Malays who swarmed upon her deck. Shooting up into the wind, just as the schooner had done before her, the prahu came to rest for a few moments. Then some twenty sweeps were shot out from her wooden sides, and like a gigantic caterpillar she came crawling towards her prize. "Boarders prepare!" shouted the Dutchman in stentorian tones, "and remember the reward which I have offered. Take them alive or dead and it belongs to you. Lose them, and you shall know what it is to experience my anger." With trained eye he steered the prahu for the schooner so that she glided alongside with a gentle grating sound, and then shouted again to his men. "On board!" he cried, "and as they are not on deck search for them and drag them from below." Instantly some thirty Malays sprang from the prahu on to the planks of the sinking schooner, and, unsuspicious as yet of her condition, at once rushed for the steep ladder which gave access to the interior. Roused to the utmost eagerness at the prospect of slaying the two white-faces who had punished them so severely, and stimulated by the offer of a special reward, the men struggled to be first, and almost fell into the cabin, their shouts startling the peaceful scenery around. Hark, something is wrong, for a head appears at the opening, and a shriek of terror sets the air ringing. Then, like hunted beings, as if they were face to face with some horror which they were endeavouring to escape, the Malays came pouring up in a confused heap, this time struggling even more fiercely for the leadership. "What is it?" shouted Hanns Schlott wrathfully, his desire to capture the fugitives and his anger preventing his seeing the sinking condition of the schooner. "Do you wish to tell me again that two boys have frightened you, and that you are flying from them? Back, hounds! and do not let me see you until you have reported that they are dead, or until you can say that they are gone from the ship." "They would be fools to stay," called out one of the men who had descended, leaping with one big bound to the deck of the prahu, upon which he alighted with every sign of satisfaction. "The cabin is filled almost to the top with water, and in less time than I care to mention she will go to the bottom of the river. Hasten, comrades, or you will be dragged down to the depths with her." With shouts and screams of rage and terror the Malays who still remained on the schooner came pouring up from below, their limbs dripping with the water, and all at once ran at their fastest pace to the rail, where, careless of the space which now intervened between themselves and the prahu, they sprang outwards in their desire to escape from the sinking vessel. Some, more fortunate than their fellows, reached their comrades in safety, and, turning swiftly about, looked back at the schooner with eyes which bulged from their sockets, so great was their alarm and consternation at the trap into which they had fallen. A few, however, who had been unable to reach the deck before owing to the narrowness of the ladder and to the press of men, found that the jar with which the prahu had hit against her prize had caused her to sheer off into deeper water, leaving a gap which no one could hope to jump. For an instant they hesitated, and then with shrill cries of fright they plunged into the river, and went clambering into their own ship by means of the sweeps which hung overboard. As for Hanns Schlott, he was like a madman. Rushing along the deck, he had at first thrown himself upon the Malay crew in his anger, and had buffeted those who had returned till they cowered at his feet. Then, suddenly realizing that he had been fooled for the second time, and that Tyler and his companion had been too clever for him, he danced between the masts as if his feelings were too much for him, and as if violent movement were necessary. "A second time!" he cried in shrill tones of rage. "They have made me look foolish again, and I should have guessed their plot, and, leaving the schooner to her fate, should have landed and searched for them in the forest or upon the river. But it is not too late even now. I must not allow my vexation to master my reason, and I will at once see to it that they are followed. Listen!" he went on, turning fiercely upon the pirate crew; "the dogs have played a prank with us again, and have fled from this spot. Did anyone see a sign of the boat which was towed behind the schooner?" For a few seconds there was silence as the Malays watched their comrades climbing on board. Then one of them, anxious perhaps to appease the anger of his leader, or drawing upon his imagination in his excitement, ran towards Hanns Schlott and bellowed some information into his ear. "You ask for the small boat," he cried. "I saw it disappearing round the angle farther up, which hides the upper reaches. There you will find the fugitives rowing for their lives. Hasten! Send after them, and when you have captured them let them be punished for the trick which they have played upon us." Without waiting to consider whether the report were a true one or not, and roused to a high pitch of anger and vexation by the manner in which he had been foiled, Hanns Schlott sprang upon the rail of the prahu, and, holding there to the rigging, stared towards the upper reaches of the river, shading his eyes with his broad palm, for the hour was an early one and the sun as yet but low in the heavens. Then he directed a swift glance to the schooner, as if a sudden suspicion had seized him that another trick was attempted, and that the fugitives were still in hiding there. But a moment's contemplation showed him that this could not be the case, for the sinking vessel lay wallowing in the river, which was slowly drifting her towards the bay outside. Already part of her deck was awash, while a trembling of her rigging, a curious fluttering of the sail, seemed to denote that her end was at hand. Indeed, as the Dutchman observed her, and endeavoured to make up his dull and heavy mind to the thought that she was alone, the schooner suddenly came to a stop in her gentle course towards the bay, then she heeled to starboard with such a jerk that her topmasts bent like fishing-rods and threatened to break away. Next second, however, she righted, and then her stern subsided beneath the water while her bows cocked high in the air. Down she went inch by inch, while those on board the prahu fixed their eyes upon her as if they were fascinated. Suddenly there was a low report, bubbles of air came seething up beside her, throwing the surface of the river into froth, and instantly the good ship disappeared from view, only one of her topmasts remaining above the river. But there was no great depth there, and ere a minute had passed she had struck upon the bottom, and, sousing forward on to a level keel, she came to a permanent rest with both topmasts elevated some twenty feet in the air. "Out with the boat!" shouted Hanns Schlott as she foundered. "Let the crew get overboard at once and row for the shore, there to search for traces of the fugitives, while we will sail up the river in the prahu and give chase. If they have escaped in that direction and we do not see them within half an hour we shall know that they have landed and hidden in the swamps, for our progress will be far more rapid than theirs. As for you other men, you are to search the bank of the river closely on this side, for it is obvious that they have not crossed to the opposite shore, for otherwise we should have seen them. If you find traces of their presence fire a gun to recall us, and we will come back to help you. Above all, should you see them, shoot them at once, for otherwise they may escape you." "Evidently a big movement afoot," said Tyler in John's ear as the two kept watch upon the pirates. "They were nicely taken in over the schooner, but now they are going to take up the pursuit in earnest. Here comes a boat-load of the ruffians, while the prahu is already hoisting her sail to proceed up the river." "Then what are we going to do?" demanded John Marshall in tones of anxiety. "If we remain here we shall nearly certainly be discovered, and I for one do not look forward to becoming a prisoner." "There will be no making prisoners," was Tyler's short and expressive answer. "You must realize the fact that those men are the hounds who will hunt their quarry to the death. As for remaining here, it is out of the question, for though we have been very careful it was quite impossible to set foot upon the soft and muddy bank without leaving impressions behind us. These Malays are, no doubt, excellent trackers, for they have been accustomed to these forests and swamps all their lives. They will quickly discover our landing-place, and once that is done they will follow us. We must leave the spot at once if we wish to remain alive. Come, let us be going, and be careful to leave as few traces behind you as you can." But now the prahu had dropped her boat into the water and was standing up the river, while the crew who had been left behind were already putting out their paddles and preparing to row for the land. To have waited longer would have been foolhardy in the extreme, and therefore, without further delay, Tyler and his companion stole off into the forest. Soon they broke into a trot, Tyler being in advance, and this they kept up for half an hour, when the jungle thickened and made rapid progress impossible. Squeezing between gigantic tree trunks, at times crawling beneath tangled masses of creepers and undergrowth, they sped on their way, taking the utmost pains all the while to replace branches which had been pushed aside. With quick eye Tyler sought for the hardest grass, and led his companion over it. But soon it became evident that they were approaching a swamp, for the earth beneath their feet became soft and spongy, and within a hundred yards they were wading knee-deep through a mangrove swamp which seemed to stretch in every direction but the one from which they had just come. "Halt!" cried Tyler, lifting his hand to warn his companion as a break in the trees denoted the fact that they had come across a creek or some arm of the river. "Let us listen so as to make sure that we are being followed. If that is the case we will swim across and continue our flight on the opposite side." Throwing themselves down upon the long and twisted root of a durian which stood above the surface of the water, they sat there panting with their exertions, and listening eagerly for sounds of the Malays. Nor were they destined to be kept waiting long, for hardly had they regained their breath than shouts came echoing through the forest, while the snap of breaking branches, and the splash of many feet wading through the water, told that the pursuers were near at hand. "They have quickly got upon our track," whispered Tyler, "and I fear that, after all, we shall have to fight for our lives. Now, how are we to get across the river without damaging our weapons?" "Tie the ammunition on to our heads and swim with one hand, holding the guns above water. It ain't easy, I know, sir, but we've got to do it." Hastily unslinging the bags in which the ammunition was stored, they placed them upon their heads, winding the slings round till the whole was secured. Then they pressed forward into the wide stream, which seemed to cut its course through the heart of the forest, and, waiting until the current almost carried them from their feet, commenced to swim for the opposite shore. As John Marshall had truly stated, it was no easy task which they had set themselves, for the ammunition, bearing upon their heads, made it difficult to keep their mouths clear of the water, while the gun, which was held at arm's-length above the surface, added to their trouble. But they were not to be easily beaten, and though already fatigued by their flight through the forest, they swam on gamely till their feet touched the opposite shore. "Now for the forest and cover," said Tyler. "Then we will sit down to rest and watch our enemies. But I suppose that they will make nothing of the river, and once across will rapidly pick up our trail again." "Then it's a case of fighting," was the boatswain's dogged reply. "If they're bound to come up with us what's the good of our tiring ourselves out by flight? Why not look out for a likely spot at once and get ready for 'em? With our rifles we ought to be able to kill a few of these Malay ruffians, and as we know that Hanns Schlott is not with them, but has gone on with the prahu, it is just possible that they may take fright and run for their lives." Both were silent for some minutes as they waded into shallower water and disappeared within the forest; for the effort of pushing their way through the stagnant river, the creepers and weeds which abounded everywhere, demanded so much of their breath that they had none to spare for talking. However, a few minutes brought them to higher land, and both were about to dash forward and leave the water when a thought suddenly occurred to Tyler, and with a quick movement of his hand he arrested John Marshall's progress. "Hold on a bit!" he cried. "Do not move an inch nearer to the dry land or we may ruin all our chances. Listen to me, for an idea has suddenly crossed my mind, and it may mean the saving of our lives. Tell me, if we push on in the direction that we were going, would the Malays pick up our tracks?" "Just as quick and as true as a blood-hound, I reckon," was the rapid answer, in tones which showed that the boatswain had no doubt of the matter. "And how long would it be before they came up with us and forced us to fight?" "Maybe half an hour, maybe less. It's jest a question of the denseness of the forest, sir; but it wouldn't be long, I know." "Then supposing we do not climb on to the higher land. Supposing we wade through this shallow water, which will effectually hide our tracks, and, turning to the right, strike along the margin of the creek, and within this screen of trees. A mile of water should bring us to the river, when we must consider what is best to be done, though I have the feeling that we shall do well to return to the spot at which we started." "Leaving these Malay blokes to push on in a dead straight line!" interposed the sailor with a chuckle. "I see yer meaning, sir, and I falls in with the plan right away. The success or failure of it will be settled within the next half-hour, for if our pursuers cross the creek and plunge on into the forest we shall know that all is well, for a time at any rate. What's more, I've a kind of a notion that we shall find it suit us well to fish out the dinghy and cross to the other shore of the main stream. Then their difficulties in following and in picking up our tracks will be so great that the chances are that they will give us up for lost." "Not if Hanns Schlott still remains their leader," said Tyler with emphasis. "Do not forget that he is a vindictive man whose pride has been severely wounded, for on two occasions we have foiled him and made him look foolish. Then there is the other matter to consider. Murder in these seas may be of almost daily occurrence; indeed I believe I am right in saying that Borneo and the islands around are infested by pirates who fall upon any and every ship with the one object of plunder. Crews are ruthlessly slain and their bodies tossed into the sea. And when there are no ships to be attacked these pirates make for the shore, and, ascending one of the rivers, fall upon the peaceful tribes within, with the sole object again of obtaining booty and the heads of their enemies. But Mr. Beverley was an Englishman, and this Dutchman knows well that however apathetic the British Government may be with regard to the loss of native life, they will resent the murder of a countryman. The Dutchman will never feel secure till he has captured us, and I tell you now that he will follow us, even if our flight takes us right across the island." "Then the sooner we push on the better," answered John Marshall in tones which showed that his leader's words had impressed him with a sense of their danger. "If this here scoundrel will follow us across the island it'll be well for us to obtain the longest start that is possible. I'm with yer, sir, and if you think that this plan is a good 'un, why, forward's the word." That Tyler and his companion had been wise in coming to a halt ere they reached the higher land was evident, for had they rushed on through the swamp they could not have failed to leave impressions of their feet upon the soil. Then again, some yards beyond the belt of trees which fringed the edge of the creek the jungle became rapidly thicker, and passage through it would have been slow and difficult in the extreme, while it would have been impossible, in spite of every care, to traverse it without leaving abundant signs of their passage behind. By keeping to the water, however, their course would carry them through a portion of the swamp where creepers and bushes were few and far between, and could be easily avoided. Indeed, there was little doubt that if ordinary caution were observed they could pass along beside the edge of the creek without leaving a single sign to aid the Malays. And what was more natural than that the latter, finding that the fugitives had sped in a direct course through the forest from the point at which they had landed, should plunge into the creek, and, gaining the opposite side, should continue in the same line themselves without suspecting the fact that another trick was being played upon them. "That is what I think and hope that they will do," murmured Tyler, as he waded on through the swamp. "No doubt they will tell by the tracks which we have left on the opposite shore that we have but little start of them, and in their eagerness to come up with us and revenge themselves for the suffering which we have caused them they will rush on thoughtlessly and in hot-headed haste. While they do so we will keep within this belt of trees until we get close to the main river, where I fancy that our best plan will be to float down to the dinghy. Then we will cross to the opposite shore and take the road for Sarawak." Anxiously did he and John Marshall listen for sounds of the enemy as they sped on through the water, and great was their relief when, happening to peep from their screen of trees, they caught sight of some dusky figures swimming across the creek, while others could be heard calling to their comrades from the forest into the depths of which the two fugitives had almost plunged. "On the wrong scent for sure," whispered John Marshall. "I reckon them chaps is too bent upon laying their hands upon us to make full use of their senses, or otherwise they would have seen in a moment that we were fooling them. As it is, once they see through the game they will come howling back to the edge of the creek, and then they'll be bothered." "They'll find it difficult to make up their minds in which direction to follow," said Tyler with decision, "and I have little doubt that they will separate into two parties, which will go to right and left. If they do so it will make our task an easier one, for then, should they come up with us, we shall have fewer enemies to deal with. But do not let us waste time. Remember, John, that our safety depends upon the length of start which we obtain. Forward! And do not let us halt until we come upon the river." With ammunition-bags still strapped to their heads, in case they should find it necessary to enter the creek again, they plunged on through the swamp, leaving a black trail of muddy water behind them. But there was no fear that the latter would betray them to the Malays, for scarcely had Tyler and his companion progressed a dozen yards than the thick mud settled upon the bottom again, leaving a clear surface above. At length, after traversing half a mile of the swamp, a break in the trees disclosed a wide stretch of water, while careful inspection showed them that they had arrived at the point where the creek entered the main stream, and where they, too, must alter their course. "The orders, sir?" demanded the boatswain, as if a long swim were nothing to him. "Do we cross to the opposite side of the creek and make along to the dinghy by means of the shore? Or shall we jest give the river a turn? It's one and the same to me, though the first'll be the easiest." "And the most dangerous course to follow," replied Tyler curtly, "for once we landed on the farther bank we should leave traces of our presence there, and sooner or later these Malays would pick them up. We shall be wise if we leave the land alone altogether, and take entirely to the water till we reach the southern shore of the river. Yes, that is my proposal; for if we return, by whatever route, to the dinghy, our pursuers will become acquainted with the fact, and, besides, how are we to know that they have not already found and destroyed our boat?" "Jest the thing I was about to mention, sir. And, what's more, how do we know that men have not been left in the sampan which brought these pirates from the prahu? Supposin' we was to drop down upon them, they'd raise such a shoutin' that every one of the dogs would come rushing down upon us." For a time the prospect which had just been brought before him startled Tyler, for the Malays' boat had escaped his memory. But a little consideration showed him that to descend the river would be madness, for in all likelihood the craft lay moored off the shore, with a guard aboard her to protect her in case the fugitives should attempt her capture. And if men were there they would certainly find some means by which to attract the attention of their comrades away in the forest. A shout, the report of a gun, would go echoing along the swamp, and would soon acquaint the pursuers of the fact that their prize lay in a different direction; then back they would come, and once more Tyler and his companion would find themselves so closely pressed that they would have to consider the advisability of searching for the most suitable spot and making a stand. Yes, the dinghy was out of the question, and that being the case it was necessary at once to hit upon some other plan. "There is no alternative," he said, suddenly turning upon the sailor, "and our way lies clear before us. We must now turn to the left and wade through the swamp beside the river until we have ascended sufficiently far to make it certain that, while venturing to swim across, we should not drift down as far as the mouth." "Then the angle, or jest above it, will be the spot, sir, for there the river narrows, and while the stream will run strongly below, above it will be pent up and there will be little flow. That should enable us to cross easily and without being seen. But steady! Ain't that the prahu?" He pointed eagerly between the tree trunks to the open stretch of river, and there, swiftly coming into view, was the native craft which bore Hanns Schlott and his crew of desperadoes. "Drawn the upper reaches blank," said Tyler, lowering his voice to a whisper, as though he were fearful that the ordinary tones would carry as far as the prahu. "It is clear that they have found no trace of us above, and are returning to rejoin their comrades. How angry their leader will be when he finds that they are baffled, and how fortunate it is for us that they have deserted the water above the bend!" "Ay, it is that," was the emphatic answer, "for it was bothering me how we were to keep out o' sight of them chaps when crossing above the bend. Now they've jest played into our hands, and if we ain't successful, well, we ought to be." With a vigorous shake of his head, and a hitch to the bag suspended about his shoulders, which had swung too far to the front owing to his active movements, the boatswain intimated to Tyler that he was ready to proceed, and instantly fell in behind his leader. It was nervous work wading through that swamp with the dull echo of splashing water reverberating amongst the trunks, for the sound which they made as they plodded forward seemed to their anxious ears so loud that those who were in pursuit of them would certainly hear. Then, too, the dread lest a clearing should suddenly bring them face to face with the Malays filled their minds, and caused them to halt every few minutes. But not a splash, not an answering sound, came back through the dreary forest, and but for the fact that they had full knowledge that Hanns Schlott and his crew were in the neighbourhood, they would have imagined that they were the only two human beings for miles around. But hark! Shouts from the mouth of the river attract their attention, while the sight of the prahu standing up-stream again causes them to crouch low in the water. "Steering for the creek," whispered Tyler. "She is going there to help our pursuers, and no doubt will soon clear up the mystery. Let us push on without a moment's delay." Stimulated to greater exertions by the thought that the course of their flight was already discovered, and that even at that moment the pirates were following in hot haste, the two forgot their weariness, forgot the fact that their limbs ached with the effort of ploughing through the swamp and mud, and filled with the determination to make good their escape, they plunged forward as though they were incapable of experiencing fatigue. Then, too, convinced that any sounds which they might make would fail to reach the enemy, they crashed on at their fastest pace, without care or thought for the traces which they might leave behind them. Indeed they had already planned a clever ruse which had gained a long start. But both knew that ere many minutes had passed the lynx-like eyes of the searchers would discover some sign of the fugitives, and that done, to trace them would be a matter of no great difficulty, for their course could only take them through the swamp which lay at the margin of creek and river. Without pausing, therefore, to look back, Tyler and John Marshall trudged on and fought their way through the water till they reached a spot which was some little distance above the bend in the river which hid the upper reaches from the view of those who entered at the mouth. And here they came to a halt at the edge of the swamp and peered across at the opposite side. "The current is sluggish, as you said," observed Tyler thoughtfully, "but the distance is greater than I had anticipated. It will be a long swim." "But it has to be faced, sir, and we had best set about it at once. When all's said, it's little after what we have gone through." "We shall do it, I have no doubt," was Tyler's reply, "but I was thinking of our weapons and of our kit. You see, this is a far longer swim and a far bigger crossing than we had to face at the creek, and even there I am bound to admit that I felt done. The effort of holding a rifle in the air is by no means small." "Then let's get something to float 'em on," said the boatswain suddenly. "Now that we've carried our packs so far we are not going to desert them without an effort, particularly the guns, for our lives depend upon 'em, do yer see, Mr. Richardson. Ain't there some sticks or something of that sort hereabouts upon which we could give them a lift to the opposite shore?" "Sticks? Of course there are, and creepers in abundance," cried Tyler, leaping at the plan thus put before him. "John, you have a knowing head, and have been of the greatest help to me. Wait here while I see to the matter. I will get on to the dry land and out of this swamp, where I shall be able to obtain the materials which we want." Not for a moment did Tyler allow the fact to escape him that it was necessary to blind their pursuers as much as possible and throw dust in their eyes. True, he and the sailor had dashed forward through the swamp at their topmost speed and without any great amount of care; but they had been particularly cautious when first they had turned from the direct course of their flight, and here, at the point where they were again about to make a break in the line, the necessity for thought occurred to him. "We must not let them think that we have made across the river just here," he said to himself as he turned from his companion. "They must be led to imagine that we have pushed directly on, and as the river is wide at this point they will readily believe that we are still in the swamp. For that reason I will get to the dry strip of land beside the swamp by other means than by my feet. Ah, here is a likely tree!" An overhanging branch caught his eye, and in a twinkling he had sprung at it and was swarming along. Arrived at the trunk he clambered round it till upon a second branch, which ran close to another tree, to which he was easily able to stretch. And thus, by making use of the fact that the monsters of the forest were placed at close intervals, he contrived to land upon higher land at a considerable distance from the edge of the swamp. To draw his knife was the work of a moment only, and very soon a shower of creepers was being directed in John's direction. For the purpose of binding the materials together these were all that could be desired, but for the raft itself something entirely different was required. Fortunately a bank of thick reeds was at hand, and an armful soon fell to his blade. A second followed, while the first had already begun to assume shape and form at the touch of John's deft fingers. A third completed the supply, and at once Tyler swung himself into the same tree, and, swarming along to the others, finally came splashing into the water again. "We have delayed long enough already," he said, as he stood there listening to distant shouts which came echoing through the forest, "and I think that it is high time that we waded in and set out for the opposite shore. Is all in readiness now?" "All but the weapons, sir. We've to lash them to our raft, and then we can begin the swim as soon as we like. Your ammunition-bag, please, and now your rifle and revolvers. That's the sort, Mr. Richardson. Mine join yours, and this length of creeper fixes the lot properly. Now for the river, and I jest hope that that fellow Hanns Schlott and his covies won't get a sight of us." "And I too," was Tyler's emphatic answer. "A very great deal depends upon our getting across unseen, and once there I propose that we take to our heels and run for all that we are worth, so as to put a good distance between ourselves and the pirates. Come, John, I will take my post at one side of the raft and will push with my left hand, while you use the opposite one." Assuring themselves that their weapons were securely fastened to the upper surface of the reeds, and that the latter were of sufficient thickness to make it certain that the top would be above the surface of the water, they began to direct their strange craft through the swamp, guiding it carefully amongst the trees. Soon they were at a point where the belt of jungle and swamp came to an end, and here they paused while Tyler waded out into the stream and looked carefully about him. "All serene!" he called out gently, after looking to left and right; then, rejoining his companion, the two urged the raft into the river. Very soon they were out of their depth and were forced to swim, on this occasion finding the task of crossing to the opposite shore far easier than before. Indeed, now that they were freed of the dead-weight of the ammunition-bags, their progress seemed to be unusually rapid, and ere they could have expected it they were wading in shallow water once more. "Off with the guns and shoulder the bag," said Tyler sharply, as they disappeared within the trees. "Now cut the creeper through and push the raft out into the open. Yes, that will do very well, for now that they are loose the reeds will become separated and, will soon be washed out into the bay." "Leaving Hanns Schlott and his men scratching their heads and jest puzzling where we've got to and how it is that we have disappeared so finely," laughed the boatswain, his spirits rising as the distance between himself and the pirates steadily increased. "And now, sir, which way? I reckon that we've got the whole of the northern portion of the island before us, and as that is a larger piece of country than we require, it seems to me that the best idea will be to set a course at once and follow it." "Exactly so, John, but first of all we have to get out of this swamp on to dry land, and in doing so we must not forget that a trail may be left which will help the Malays to follow us. Just recollect the fact which I have mentioned before, that they are splendid trackers and thoroughly used to the country. That being the case, we must use the utmost caution, for our lives will undoubtedly depend upon our doing so. Now let us look out for a likely tree, and then we will go through the same movements that I practised when obtaining the reeds on the opposite shore. Ah! this seems to me a suitable spot." He pointed to the twisted, snake-like root of an enormous durian which, emerging from the earth, had shot out over the water for all the world like the branches higher up. About five feet from the surface of the swamp it was sufficiently flexible to be drawn within an inch or two of the water, and taking advantage of this fact, Tyler and John Marshall in turn threw their legs astride it and shuffled along to the shoreward end. Another branch here came to their aid, and ere many minutes had passed both were safely on dry land, with the satisfaction of feeling that however closely their enemies searched the fringe of trees which bordered the river they would find no trace of the fugitives. Then would commence a tedious hunt a few yards within the forest, and while that was in progress the white men would be speeding away. Yes, haste was of the utmost importance, and realizing this to the full, Tyler and his companion took to their heels, and, setting their faces towards the south-west, ran on in that direction with the understanding that as soon as they had placed some five miles between themselves and the pirates they would halt and settle the direction in which they were to march. At length, breathless and exhausted after their exertions, for it was no light task to push through the forest at that rate, the two arrived at a part where the jungle was broken by a clearing, and, throwing themselves down upon the ground, waited there to rest. Scarcely had they recovered their breath and turned to one another to discuss the situation than a loud shout close at hand startled them, and in an instant they had sprung to their feet and faced about to meet the enemy. CHAPTER VIII Meeting the Dyaks "Mias! Mias!" Suddenly the words, shouted at the top of a deep bass voice, broke the silence of the forest, and bursting from the trees near at hand came reverberating across the clearing, bringing Tyler and his comrade panting to their feet. "Who is that? Can the Malays have already come up with us and be about to attack us?" demanded the former breathlessly. "Surely they cannot have discovered our whereabouts so soon, and those shouts must be produced by natives of these parts." "It ain't the pirates, that I'll swear," responded John Marshall in startled tones. "Mias! That's how it sounded, and it seems to me, from what I know of the lingo of folks hereabout, that it was different to the Malay tongue. There, listen to that, sir; they're getting nearer." "And will burst into this clearing before us," exclaimed Tyler in alarm. "Back into the trees and let us hide! Quick! for by the sound they are already almost upon us." Unslinging their rifles as they ran, the two hastened across the clearing and dived with frantic eagerness in amongst the trees. Then once more they threw themselves full length upon the ground, and, peering from amongst the bushes and trailers which grew in luxuriance about them, stared out into the open. And all the while each wondered who it was who could have given vent to those shouts, and what was the meaning of them. To runaways attempting to escape as they were, the shouts came with startling suddenness, and even now their hearts beat rapidly against their ribs, so great was the consternation that they had caused. However, a moment's reflection had been sufficient to assure Tyler that the Malays, with Hans Schlott at their head, could not have arrived upon the scene so quickly, and instantly he set to work imagining who it could be who had given vent to the words. Nor was he long kept waiting, for as he thrust his head still farther from behind the bushes in his eagerness to catch sight of any who might come, the shout again echoed amongst the trees, to be followed instantly by a sight which filled his mind with amazement. "Mias! Mias!" The call came to his ears in the shrillest of tones, and was followed instantly by the crash of breaking branches. Then of a sudden something short and stout, and in the shape of a man, swung from a tree at the edge of the clearing, and went running across the open space in a half-crouching attitude, with the knuckles of its hands dragging upon the ground. "An ape," exclaimed John Marshall in a whisper, "and a mighty big one too!" "An orang-outang," corrected Tyler, staring at the animal. "I believe that they are very common in the island, and often grow to very large proportions. That one, for instance, is almost as big as a man. But what is happening? If he is being chased, like ourselves, why does he not rush to the other side of the clearing and get away in that direction?" "Because he can't. Because there's natives over there, natives all round him. He's brought to bay, and he's got to fight for his life, poor beggar!" "And will give some trouble before he is defeated. Look! he has seized a branch and means to use it as a cudgel, just as if he were a human being. But listen. There is the shout again." Scarcely had the words left Tyler's lips than the curious call again awoke the echoes of the forest, and had barely died down when some dozen dusky figures suddenly emerged into the clearing from opposite directions and advanced upon the threatening figure, which now occupied a central point. Crash! The animal raised his cudgel at the sight of his enemies, and brought it to the ground furiously and with such force that it was a wonder that it was not broken into a hundred pieces. Then, as if the sight of the natives aroused his anger beyond everything, the ape came running to meet those who were nearest to him, his body now held fully erect. With glaring eyes and wide-open mouth, which exposed a row of terrible fangs, he ran with silent feet towards his enemies, snarling in his rage. Then, singling out one in particular, he leapt at him with unexpected suddenness, and, throwing his cudgel to the ground, gripped the unfortunate fellow in his arms. "Look! He will kill him! The brute has caught the poor fellow's arm between his teeth, and I heard the bone crack!" cried Tyler, unconsciously raising his voice in his excitement at the scene. "Ah! the others are afraid. They are hanging back, and will desert their comrade. We must help, for we cannot lie here and see a human being killed before our eyes by such a hideous brute. Your rifle, John! Quick! out into the open!" Almost before the boatswain had grasped his meaning, Tyler was on his feet and running between the trees at his fastest pace, and ere John Marshall could rise to follow him his leader was within a few yards of the ape. As for the natives, one more courageous than his comrades had thrust at the savage animal with a spear, and had left the weapon sticking in his back. But he might just as well have used a thorn from a neighbouring tree for all the effect it produced, for the mias did not seem to notice it, and, turning as the man dodged round him, went running towards him, still holding the unfortunate native between his teeth. And now the air was full of shouts of consternation as the natives dodged about their comrade. A few attempted to follow the example set by one of their brothers, but the gleaming fangs, the fierce snarl to which the animal gave vent as each approached, caused their courage to vanish, and instead of throwing themselves upon the ape in a body, with the firm determination to rescue their unhappy friend, they darted farther away, and stood there brandishing their weapons and calling in frightened voices to one another. Imagine their amazement when a white man suddenly burst from the trees and rushed upon the scene! [Illustration: "HE SPRANG AT TYLER"] "Out of the way!" shouted Tyler, as if the natives could understand him. "Now, be ready to help me should I fail in shooting the brute. John, come up on the opposite side and let him have a bullet from your gun also." Stepping carefully towards the ape, Tyler advanced with outstretched weapon, prepared to raise it to his shoulder the instant that an opportunity presented of firing without injuring the man; but the ape seemed to guess at his intention, for, seeing another of his enemies approaching, he suddenly opened his mouth, and, relinquishing his grip of the arm, tossed the native to one side. Then, with another of those formidable and unexpected leaps he sprang at Tyler, alighting within a few feet of him. A terrible sight he was too, with enormous fangs exposed and his lip and nose wrinkled and contracted as he snarled. His small, ferrety eyes seemed to flash fire at the intruder, while each muscle of his enormous body stood out like a cord as he prepared for the attack. Indeed, so formidable was his appearance that our hero almost faltered and gave back. But the imminence of his peril, the fact that if he but turned his back for a moment the beast would be upon him, kept him with his face to the foe. And then his spirit, the fine courage which he undoubtedly possessed, and which had already stood him in such good stead, came to his help, and at once, levelling his weapon, he fired at the ape. "Jump!" shouted John Marshall, seeing that the brute had failed to drop. "Out of the way, sir, or he will get you in his grip!" Quickly though the warning was given, it came too late to save Tyler from the fury of this strange enemy, for, stung to madness by the pain of his wound, the mias gave vent to a snarl of rage and leapt full upon our hero's shoulders. The brawny arms encircled the figure of the white man, and once more the capacious jaws opened in readiness to bite. A moment and the gleaming teeth would have closed upon the back of Tyler's neck, when John Marshall sprang to his aid, and, holding his fire for fear of killing his leader, thrust the muzzle of his weapon between the jaws. Then all three fell upon the ground and struggled there together, while the natives who had so unexpectedly arrived in the clearing looked on in utter amazement, incapable of giving help to those who had come so gallantly to the rescue. "Hold it there! Keep your gun between his teeth for a little longer," shouted Tyler, with difficulty keeping his presence of mind. "My right hand is almost free, and very soon I shall be able to draw my revolver." Putting out all his strength, he slowly drew the arm from the powerful grip which held it to his side, and then rapidly felt for a weapon. His fingers lit upon the butt of a revolver, and in a trice the muzzle was thrust against the hairy chest of his opponent. Bang! As the report rang out the lanky arms suddenly fell away, the jaws opened wide as if in another effort to tear the limbs of his white-faced enemy, and then with a sigh the terrible mias collapsed upon the ground, where he lay with arms and legs spread out in all directions. As for Tyler, he sprang to his feet with a cry of triumph, and, forgetful of the natives around, who as yet might prove to be enemies, he turned with extended hand to thank his companion. "You saved my life, old friend," he said, in tones which showed his gratitude. "Had it not been for the fact that your weapon was thrust between his teeth he would have killed me; he would have gripped me in that awful mouth, and would have choked the life out of my body. I thank you from the bottom of my heart!" "You're welcome, sir. I'd do the same every day of my life if you was to call for my help, for I tell yer, in this world one good turn deserves another. Where would I ha' been if it hadn't been for you, I'd like to know. Jest washing about in the sea outside, I reckon, and food for the fishes. It was you, begging yer pardon, sir, who beat off them pirates, and if it hadn't been for yer quickness we should ha' been taken by Hans Schlott and his villains. So, yer see, we're even, and there ain't nothing more to be said about the matter. But what about these chaps here?" He turned and pointed to the natives, who stood about them still in open-mouthed amazement, looking at the white men in speechless astonishment. "We must make friends with them," was Tyler's instant answer. "We have suddenly come to their help, and they will surely be grateful. But first of all let us look at the poor fellow who was seized by the ape. I am afraid that he has been very seriously injured." "He's dead, sir," responded John, stepping across to the body. "That bite would have been enough for most anyone, but I see the mias give him a squeeze just before he threw him to the ground, and I reckon it jest broke every rib in his body. He's dead, sure enough, and there's no use worrying longer about him. But about these chaps. There's another coming this way, and what's more, he's a Chinaman." "Then he may understand our language," burst in Tyler, for he had learnt from Mr. Beverley that the island of Borneo contained many of the race, who frequently sailed there after residence at Singapore. "Call him here, John, and let us attempt to talk with him." Leaving the dead native lying upon the ground, and the enormous ape huddled in the centre of the clearing beside him, they walked towards the figure of a Chinaman who had emerged from the forest a few minutes before. As for the latter, he advanced towards them with a cry of delight and without the slightest sign of fear, and arriving within a yard of them, halted suddenly, and salaamed to them as if he realized at once that they were his masters. "Li Sung him velly glad you comee," he said, with another of his curious bobs, which set his pigtail swaying. "Li Sung him comee along with natives and chase de mias. He reachee de edge of de forest in time to watchee de battle. Li Sung givee kow-tow. Him see velly great brave men before him." "And you speak English," exclaimed Tyler with delight, "and will be able to show these friends of yours that we are not here to injure them. Who are they? And what do they do?" "And where do they live?" added the boatswain suddenly. "Look here, Johnnie, my lad, we're in want of friends, and, what's more, our object is to get as far away from here as possible, for, like the mias, we are chased. A Dutchman and his cruel pirates are after us, and their prahu lies in the river beyond the trees." "Den dey are our enemies as well," was the Chinaman's quick answer. "We livee a few miles on through de forest, and de tribe wid whom I workee am peaceful Dyaks. Dey sow de rice and work in de paddy-fields. But sometimes dese pirates comee deir way and den dey fight, for if not dey am killed and deir heads taken. Yes, de pirates am velly nasty men, and we hatee dem." "Then the Dyak people with whom you live will befriend us," said Tyler. "Talk to them and tell them who we are, and why it is that we are here. Say that we will do them no harm, but in return for the help which we have given them just now we will ask them to shelter us for a time until we can proceed on our journey to Sarawak." "You go dere?" cried Li Sung eagerly, pricking up his ears at the mention of Sarawak. "Den me comee too, for Li Sung havee wifee in Sarawak. But me talkee to de natives." He went off at once to do Tyler's bidding, while the latter conversed in low tones with his companion. "We are in luck," said Tyler, sitting upon the ground, for, now that the excitement was over, he was feeling fatigued and somewhat shaken after his struggle with the ape. "It seems that Li Sung, this Chinaman, also wishes to make for Sarawak, and we will most gladly take him with us, for it is clear that he has some acquaintance with the country, and in addition can speak the language of these Dyaks, a fact which will be of the utmost value to us. It is evident that he is pointing out to the natives what we have done for them, and I could see when he was talking to us that his bobs and kow-towing impressed them with an idea of our importance. Nothing could be better for us, for the more they respect us the safer we shall be. But here he comes again, and I see that he is bringing the natives with him." "Li Sung him say allee dat you tellee him," began the Chinaman, "and de natives ask you to stop wid dem. Dat was deir chief," and the Chinaman pointed to the unfortunate Dyak who had fallen a victim to the ferocity of the ape, "and dey ask dat you takee his place. Dey also say dat dis Dutchman has fought dem before, and coming upon dem suddenly has killed many of deir comrades. Den he has sailed away, taking de wives and children with him as slaves. He will follow you, dat is for sure, and dese people will have to fight. Dey ask, den, dat you place yourself at deir head and lead dem, for in attacking de mias allee alone you have shown dat you am brave and strong." Once more the pigtail swung from side to side while the Chinaman kow-towed to Tyler. Then he stood erect again, and with outstretched hands repeated his message. "Helpee dem," he pleaded, "and dey will drive dis Dutchman back. Refuse, and all whom you see here will die, while deir homes will be broken up. Dose dey care for will become slaves, and will be taken miles and miles away among strange people, while dose who are left with deir lives will find deir crops ruined and deir fruit-trees, upon which dey feed far more dan upon de rice, cut to the ground." "Their chief!" exclaimed Tyler in astonishment. "You may tell them, Li Sung, that I will take the place for a time, but they must understand that at the first opportunity I shall leave for Sarawak. But we cannot discuss the matter here, and therefore I suggest that we march at once for their village. Lead the way and we will follow." With a sharp bob and a shake of his pigtail the Chinaman showed that he understood the order and fully agreed with it Then he turned about, and, shouting some words to the Dyaks, led the way into the forest As for the latter, they ran to the centre of the clearing, and while a few lifted the body of their comrade and commenced to carry him away, the remainder hastily searched for a suitable bough and made preparations to remove the mias. A couple of lengths of creeper at once filled the place of ropes with which to bind the wrists and ankles of the animal together. Then a long stout bough was thrust between them, and three men attached themselves to either end. At a given signal they lifted their burden, and, resting the pole upon their shoulders, went staggering off towards the forest. As for Tyler and John Marshall, they fell in behind and trudged along, their minds so full of the turn which events had taken, and of the strange and unexpected manner in which they had fallen amongst friends, that conversation was impossible. Very soon the procession came to a path which had evidently been trodden by many feet, and turning along this they pushed their way through a belt of forest which would have been impracticable had it not been for the fact that the hand of man had been at work clearing the undergrowth. On every hand enormous giants reared their leafy heads into the air, for the most part ascending some fifty feet or more before giving out a branch, while, crowded in between them, trailing this way and that in fantastic festoons, and embracing their more powerful brothers as if to protect them or to obtain support from their strength, were long creepers, with leaves of the most delicate and vivid green. "And look at the flowers," said Tyler, who now for the first time was able to take note of his surroundings, and observe the beauties of the island of Borneo. "Whenever we happen to come upon a spot where the trees stand back and permit the rays of the sun to penetrate, orchids and other tropical blooms can be seen in profusion, dangling often from the tree tops." "Yes, and there are palms, sir, and won't we jest enjoy them," was the sailor's reply as he pointed to several of that variety. "Nothing like cocoa-nuts to quench the thirst on a boiling hot day." "And evidently the natives believe in them, John, for you can see that they have erected bamboo ladders against some of the trees, and have settled their abode in the midst of a plantation. Now how will they receive us, I wonder?" By now they had come to a break in the forest path, and the trees suddenly ceased to spring up on either side. A glance at once showed that the woodman's axe had been busy here, and had kept the jungle at bay. Large areas of flat and open ground were to be seen, and all under cultivation; while farther on, a plantation of palms and abundant fruit-trees overhung an enormous house, around which swarmed numerous natives. "The village!" exclaimed Tyler. "Seeing that long hut reminds me that Mr. Beverley told me that these Dyaks seldom have separate establishments for their families, but prefer to live under the same roof. In fact, some of their residences harbour five hundred people, and are some hundreds of feet in length. But here we are, and now I suppose that there will be a talk." Reassured by the friendly glances of the natives, and by the words of the Chinaman, who had now rejoined them, the two young fellows marched up to the village hut with heads in the air and a smile upon their lips. But all the while their senses were fully alert, for they had heard before now of treachery, and it was well to be prepared. However, there was no need for alarm, for scarcely had they reached the steep ladder which led to the living floor than a number of women appeared bearing food for them. "If de Englishmen will be seated deir wants will be looked to," said Li Sung, again kow-towing, a sign of respect which the Dyaks at once imitated. "Li Sung can assure dem dat dere is noding to fear, for dese men am velly friendly. Dey have seen de brave act which was meant to save de life of a comrade, and they are for ever in the debt of deir visitors. But dey bid you hasten, for if dere am evil men who hunt for you, it will not do to sitee long at food. After you have eaten we will talkee, and my master shall say what course it will be wise to follow." "Then we shall be ready very soon, Li Sung, for we have no wish to fall into the clutches of the Dutchman. In five minutes we shall be ready, and you can bring the chief men along. Now bring the food." With a wave of his hand the Chinaman bade the Dyak women come forward with their trays, and soon the two fugitives were indulging in an excellent meal. "It beats everything," exclaimed John Marshall with enthusiasm as he settled himself to do justice to the repast. "An hour ago we were flying who knows where, and wondering whether we should escape with our lives. And now we suddenly find ourselves in proper trim, with victuals and drink to spare!" "But with a great deal before us," interrupted Tyler thoughtfully, staring hard at the ground as though that would help him to decide what their next step was to be. "We have an enemy to think of, John, and sitting here will not save us from him. I am wondering what chance these Dyaks would have against Hanns Schlott, for, as you see, they are but rudely armed, and have not a single firearm amongst them. It seems to me that it will be better for them, perhaps better for us also, if we agree to part company at once, for otherwise we shall be the cause of their getting into trouble." "And if we leave they will still have to meet the Dutchman," said the boatswain swiftly. "I say that this Hans Schlott will come this way once his trackers have got on our line, and, remembering that there are Dyaks in the neighbourhood, will make a raid upon them. The rascal makes his living by piracy, and when that fails he takes slaves and gets money by them. So he'll attack 'em, and it'll not make so much as a farthing's difference if we remain or not." "De words am true," broke in the voice of Li Sung at this moment. "My massa, Li havee already said dat dis captain of de prahu am known to us. A year has passed since he sailed into de river, but we havee not forgotten. See dere. De trees are but sprouting from de ground, and if we had not had others to draw from elsewhere we should have starved." He pointed to a portion of the plantation where numerous stumps protruded from amongst the vegetation. "Yes, dere are de remains of de fruit-trees," continued Li Sung, "and deir loss was almost as bitter as de theft of de wives and children. Massa, de men here am in terror. Were dey to knowee all dat you havee told me dey would fly velly quick, for dis Dutchman am a monster in deir eyes. But here am de chiefs, and we will talkee wid dem." He beckoned to a number of natives who had squatted near at hand, and at the signal they ascended the ladder and sat down before Tyler with an air of gravity which showed that if they were not fully aware of the close proximity of the pirates they were for all that fearful of some impending danger. "Tell the white man that we are his children," said their spokesman, addressing his words to Li Sung, who at once interpreted them. "From the moment when he dashed into the clearing and faced the mias in the hope of rescuing our young chief we were his friends for life. And now that we are without a leader we ask him to fill the place, at least for a time. Say also that we have heard enough to show us that, the pirates are near, and that if he and his friend leave us we shall certainly fall victims. Would that we could change our home, for the soil is now past the work we demand of it, and more of the jungle must be cleared. Then, again, our lives are never safe while we remain near the river, while the mias, tribes of which inhabit the forests near at hand, rob our trees of their fruit, and make their cultivation hopeless. We are dispirited, and now a new misfortune is upon us." "Change their home! The soil is worked out, and misfortunes constantly coming!" murmured Tyler as if to himself, while his eyes roamed round the circle of Dyaks, "Why not change their abode? Why not come to Sarawak with us and there have peace and safety under the Englishman?" Unconsciously he said the words aloud, so that John Marshall overheard them, and instantly the latter's features brightened with a smile, while he turned with unusual eagerness to his young leader. "I know somethin' about these here Dyaks and the China boys," he said, "for away in Singapore one met plenty of the last who had been to Borneo, and who told the tale that the tribes often wander in search of new fields for cultivation. Yer see, a couple of seasons work the nourishment out of the soil, so that it jest refuses to give good value for the labour expended on it. Then the Dyaks pack up their goods and jest march right away till they come to a likely neighbourhood. Having settled upon their new home they set to work to cut down the jungle, and then to lay out their crops. As for a house, it is nothing to build, and takes little more than a week, for you can see for yourself that the materials are close at hand, and everything jest done to last a short time only. Then, too, they've got to think of enemies, and I've heard it said that everyone is against these poor helpless people. They ain't got no firearms as a general rule, and I reckon they're at anyone's mercy. Now if we was to lead them, and, after beating back this Hanns Schlott and his fellows, to march with the whole lot to Sarawak, we should be doing them a good turn, while their company would make our journey all the more secure." "And at the end we should bring them under the protection of James Brooke of Sarawak," added Tyler. "Mr. Beverley, who was an admirer of that pioneer, told me that the latter's chief aim and object in coming to Borneo, and in settling at Sarawak, was to look after the interests of the unfortunate Dyaks, who are fleeced, and murdered, and taken into slavery by powerful gangs of pirates composed of Malays and sea-coast Dyaks as well. Their lot, indeed, is a very hard one, and by persuading these people here to join us in our journey we should be doing them no harm. Indeed we should be conferring a benefit upon them. I admit that the journey is a long one, but then a brighter prospect will be before them at the end. But let us put the suggestion to them, when they can consider it for themselves. Listen," he went on, addressing himself to the Chinaman, "my friend and I will do what we can to lead you and protect you, and it has occurred to us that if these people here are considering a move, and above all, if by remaining here they are to run the danger of constant attack at the hands of the pirates, it would be better for them to go far away and leave this neighbourhood altogether. We are bound for Sarawak, where James Brooke has made his home, and is fighting to bring peace to the natives. Ask them whether they would care to make the journey with us, and find their new home in the place that I have spoken of." Leaning back against the wall of the native hut, Tyler watched the faces of the Dyak tribesmen as the proposition was put before them, and noted the eagerness with which they listened to Li Sung's words. That they were impressed by the proposal became quickly evident, for at once they began to discuss the matter with every sign of interest, and, conscious that upon their decision the fate of their comrades would depend, they promptly called to those who stood about them to join in their council. "But we must not forget the pirates," said their leader, arresting the conversation for a moment. "I have already placed a few men in the forest to keep watch, but now I will send others to the bank of the river there to spy upon their movements. Then if this Dutchman comes in this direction we shall have warning of the fact, and shall be able to stand or retire as seems most advisable. And now to settle this important question." For almost an hour did the tribesmen devote themselves to Tyler's proposition, and having made up their minds as to how they would act, turned to the Chinaman to interpret their meaning. "Say that we are well satisfied with the wisdom of this journey," began their spokesman, "and are prepared to make the venture. Even to this remote part the fame of this Englishman has reached, and every report tells how he cares for our poor brothers, and slaves so that they shall lead peaceful lives. He knows that the Dyaks of the land are a contented people, and that they are willing for the most part to till the soil and live the simple life of peasants. We wish for nothing more, and as journeying to the country about Sarawak promises a change in our existence, we will take the risk and accompany the young Englishman who has become our chief." "Then we will at once make arrangements to set out," exclaimed Tyler, rising briskly to his feet, "for I am perfectly certain that we have no time for delay. Tell them, Li Sung, that they are to collect the women and children together immediately, and pack up any valuables that they may have. Nothing beyond that which is absolutely necessary must be taken, for we shall have arms to carry with us, and, besides, a supply of food will be of the greatest importance, for then we shall have provisions for the first day's march, a time when our attentions are likely to be engaged with the enemy. And that brings me to the question of the pirates. Shall we make a stand here and endeavour to beat them back, or shall we march on at once, leaving them to follow if they care?" "Neither the one nor the other, that's how I reckon it," answered John Marshall promptly. "Yer see, sir, these here natives ain't got a single gun amongst them, and ain't a match for the Dutchman and his crew. Mind yer, I don't think much of our enemies after the blows we give them, but they've got guns in plenty, and what's more, they've already come this way and scared these poor fellows. We've a forest between us and the river, and I votes that we fill it up with our men, giving them orders to retire gradually, but not before they have picked off as many of the pirates as possible. They've plenty of sumpitans amongst them, as they call their blow-pipes, and for silent forest work no weapon could be better. If the Dutchman pushes on, our men will retire and finally disappear altogether." [Illustration: THE CONFERENCE WITH THE TRIBESMEN] "An excellent plan," exclaimed Tyler, who had listened attentively all the while, "for while a few of our men engage the enemy in the forest, the women and children with the bulk of the tribe can be pushing on towards Sarawak. Every half-hour gained in such a way will be of the utmost importance, while the process of checking the pirates can be repeated on a second occasion. Now let us learn the strength of our forces. Tell me," he went on, addressing the Chinaman, "how many men are there in this tribe, and what is the number of women and children to whose safety we shall have to look." "Three hundred allee told," replied Li Sung, elevating three fingers the better to show his meaning, "and half can helpee you wid deir weapons, while de others am too old or too young to joinee in de fighting." "Then we will keep fifty in reserve, while you, John, will at once push on with the greater force. Send a few men in advance, and throw out a rear-guard, with whom we will endeavour to keep in touch. I shall command the party in the forest, and shall join you when all danger of pursuit has ended. And now let us see to preparations, for we have already delayed too long." Springing to their feet, they hurriedly gave their orders to Li Sung, who interpreted them to the Dyaks. Then, leaving the boatswain to marshal the larger proportion of the tribe and hurry them on their way, Tyler shouldered his rifle, and, waving an adieu to his companion, went off into the forest accompanied by Li Sung and fifty of the Dyaks. "We will call a halt here and listen to what our scouts have to tell us," he said when they had penetrated some little distance. "Then if Hanns Schlott and his men have not yet put in an appearance we will march on and lie in wait beside the river. That will give us a good five miles of jungle through which to retire and harass the foe. Send two of the men forward, Li Sung, so that they may recall a couple of the scouts and take their places while the latter return to give us their tidings." Seating himself upon the root of a tree, for the day had been a fatiguing one and he felt in need of rest, Tyler chatted in low tones with the Chinaman while he waited with what patience he could command for the coming of the men who had been sent forward to spy upon the pirates. Nor was he put severely to the test, for the men whom Li Sung had despatched to recall them had taken to their heels at once, and had gone running through the jungle at a pace which would have taxed the powers of anyone less agile. Trained to the forest and to woodcraft from their very earliest days, they seemed to find their way through the thickest undergrowth as if they had been there hundreds of times before. Indeed, nothing seemed to stop them, for if a dense bush or the root of a tree were too low to be easily passed under they leapt the obstacle without a moment's hesitation, and went on their way without faltering and without a halt. Half an hour later two figures came bounding from amongst the trees and drew up at Tyler's feet. "The news?" he demanded eagerly. "Where is this Dutchman and his crew of desperadoes?" "De men say dat de pirates allee lightee so far," said Li Sung, rapidly gathering their information and interpreting it to his young leader. "Dey say dat dey have watched beside de river, where, too, they came across de spot where you and de other massa dropped from de tree. De Dutchman am troubled. Him not knowee where him turn, but as he not findee you on de other shore him now sail de prahu dis way. When de man leave de swamp de pirates just get into de boat and row dis way." "Then they will soon hit upon our trail," exclaimed Tyler, "and we must be there in readiness to meet them. Let the men spread out till a few yards separate each one. We will advance upon the river in that order, and you may tell them that they will keep the same positions when returning. For the last movement they will take their orders direct from me, and as soon as a word is passed down the line each will turn about and will run back fifty yards, but no more. Later on we will repeat the same movements, and gradually will retire through the forest. Let the Dyaks know that I and my friend fought this Dutchman and his full crew, and made good our escape, and inform them also that upon their bravery will depend the safety of their wives and children. And now, forward is the word." Springing to his feet, Tyler followed the Chinaman through the jungle, noting with pleasure as he did so that the Dyaks under his command had instantly obeyed his orders, and, seeming to grasp his meaning at once, had separated. Then, too, he could not fail to see that they were in better spirits than formerly, and that his presence amongst them, and the example of coolness which he set them, had already roused their courage. "Anoder time and dey would have run for deir lives," explained Li Sung, twisting his pigtail into a knot upon the back of his head, so as to keep it clear of the thorns and brambles which abounded on every hand. "Now dey tink dat dey safe from de Dutchman, and dey smile and feel allee merry. Dey will stand by massa velly well, for dey have seen him fight de mias." An hour's rapid walk through the forest at length brought Tyler and his men to the belt of swamp which fringed the river, and here they joined hands with the scouts who had already been sent to the spot, to learn at once that the prahu had dropped her anchor off the shore and had sent some fifty men into a couple of boats. The latter had been rowed towards the forest, and a few moments before Tyler's arrival had disappeared within the trees. "Then we can expect them at any time," said Tyler when the report was brought to him, "but for the present we will retire fifty yards from the swamp, and will take up a position between our friends and the point where I and my companion landed. When they come to that the pirates will turn inland, and we shall be able to give them a lesson. Repeat to the Dyaks that they are on no account to show themselves. The presence of an enemy must be followed by the discharge of an arrow through their blow-pipes and by withdrawal into another position close at hand. They are not to retire more than a few feet until they get the word from me, or unless some special circumstance makes it necessary. Now come with me and help to place our men." Followed by Li Sung he went off through the jungle, and ere long had the satisfaction of feeling that all his preparations were completed. Then he lay down under a dense mass of bramble and creeper, and waited for the enemy to appear. "Hush, massa! de Dutchman him coming dis way," suddenly whispered Li Sung, pointing to the right, "and him velly much troubled. Him hunt and hunt and not find de Englishman, and him velly angry." "But he and his men will not be long now in picking up our tracks," answered Tyler beneath his breath. "Look! there are the Malays following, and very soon they will have some news to give their leader. That will be the moment for us to surprise them." Peering from beneath the leaves which screened him, Tyler saw the burly Hanns Schlott trudging along upon the higher land which lay beside the swamp. His eyes wandered restlessly in every direction, whilst his face looked drawn and haggard, as though fear of the punishment in store for him for his crime were weighing upon his mind. Eagerly did he turn aside to inspect each broken twig which caught his eye, lest at last this should be a sign of the fugitives; and when at length one of the Malay crew who walked beside him called his attention to some footprints in the ground, the Dutchman gave vent to a shout of triumph which startled the forest and at once called all his men about him. Then, placing two possessed of the keenest sight a few paces in advance, he plunged into the jungle, determined to follow wherever the footmarks led. CHAPTER IX On Foot through the Jungle Well was it for Tyler and the Dyaks, whose chief he had so suddenly become, that he had made arrangements for meeting the enemy with such thoroughness; for otherwise Hanns Schlott and the fifty men or more who accompanied him would have pushed on through the forest at a pace which would rapidly have eclipsed that of the retreating tribe and would have speedily overwhelmed them. But there were those lurking in the jungle prepared to arrest the progress of the pirates, and thanks to the resolute air which Tyler had displayed, and to the knowledge which the Dyaks now possessed, that he, with John Marshall alone to help him, had faced the crew of the prahu and safely escaped, they were full of confidence in their young chief's powers to lead them and bring them safely out of the engagement. Crouching there amongst the dense undergrowth, each man lifted the long wooden blow-pipe which these Dyak tribes use, and having already placed within it a sharp-pointed arrow, at the base of which was a pith-bulb to hold the air, they pointed them at the Malays and waited for the word to fire. Hish! One of the pirates who had been sent in advance to follow the tracks of the fugitives gave a gasping cry, and fell upon his face, his hands convulsively grasping one of the tiny arrows. "What has happened?" demanded Hans Schlott, giving a start of surprise. "Get up at once, and do not alarm us by your antics. Come, drag the fellow to his feet," he went on, seeing that the Malay lay still with his head buried in the undergrowth. "He imagines himself hurt, and will lie there till we force him to rise." "He is dead!" exclaimed one of his comrades, rushing to his side and turning him upon his back. "See here, someone has fired at him with a blow-pipe. It must be the Dyaks who have been watching." "Then they shall suffer!" burst in the Dutchman with an oath. "Once before we raided them, and a fine fat sum we gained by our slaves, I recollect. They shall be punished again, and in the meanwhile the death of one of our number shall not deter us. Push on, and keep your eyes open wide for these snakes of natives. A shot into the jungle will soon scare them Ho there! Level your weapons, all of you, and direct them so as to sweep close to the ground. Then pull the triggers as I give the word." Waiting till all his men had run to him, and had become ready to carry out his orders, Hanns Schlott shouted "Fire!" a volley of musketry being at once poured into the bushes. Then with an answering shout his men sprang forward upon the trail. As for Tyler and his little force, for the moment the Dyaks were dismayed at the swishing bullets and at the patter of twigs and leaves which resulted. But they had suffered no harm, and that thanks to the fact that each one had kept his eyes fixed upon the enemy, and at the first sign of the movement had lain flat upon the ground. But in spite of their lucky escape they would have given back at once, and have plunged in mad flight into the forest, had it not been for Tyler. With a shout to encourage them, he fired at the nearest Malay and brought him staggering upon the ground. Then Li Sung's voice joined in and helped to maintain the courage of the Dyaks. "Fear them not!" he cried in the Dyak language. "We are as yet unseen, and can punish them. Think of the women and children taken into captivity by these men! Keep your places and shoot straight!" "I heard the voice of that Englishman," shouted Hanns Schlott. "Then he has picked up some of the Dyaks and hopes to beat us back with their aid. But he will soon learn that they are poor fighters, and will desert him. Forward, and do not let these men keep you!" Striding to the front of his men, he led the way into the jungle, feeling confident that, at the most, the white men for whom he searched could not have obtained the help of more than a few of the natives. But he quickly changed his mind, for ere he had traversed a dozen paces one of the silent missiles again swished with its low peculiar note through the air, and, striking the Dutchman in the shoulder, brought him to a sudden halt. "A second arrow, but not poisoned!" he cried, giving vent to an exclamation of annoyance and pain, "Not poisoned, as I said, my men, for that I happen to know. It is nothing--a mere pin-prick--and shall not stop us. On! shoot them down, and capture this runaway!" Plucking the arrow from his clothing and from the flesh beneath, Hans Schlott sprang boldly into the underwood, a drawn revolver in each hand. But his men held back doubtfully, their fears aroused by the sound of Tyler's voice. "They have guns! The white men will turn them upon us as they did on the schooner, and we shall be killed!" called out one of their number, retreating towards the swamp. "See! a comrade has already paid with his life, and others of us will fall. They are unseen also, while we are an open target." "You at least are in sight," was the Dutchman's answer, as he swung round upon his cowardly follower. "Move another step backwards and I will fire! Come, do not be frightened by his tale," he went on as the man came to a sudden halt and stood trembling before the weapon which his leader held levelled at his breast. "You are not all so chicken-hearted as this girl! Will you be driven back, and for the third time at least, by a couple of boys without hair on their white faces, and by a few half-starved natives whose knees knock at the mention of your names? Forward! Charge through the forest and hunt these rats out!" Emboldened by his words, the pirates quickly recovered their spirit, and, seeing that Hanns Schlott was prepared to lead them in person, at once fell in behind him, and, rifle in hand, plunged into the jungle. Separating, so that a considerable interval lay between each man, they threw themselves down upon their knees so as to render themselves less visible, and in this manner began to stalk their enemies. "We will retire at once," said Tyler, perceiving their action, and realizing that, now that they were fully alarmed and had knowledge of the presence of enemies, the pirates would creep to close quarters and ruin his plans. "By remaining here we run the chance of having the Malays upon us and of engaging in a hand-to-hand struggle. That is just what I do not want, for then the Dyaks will be beaten, and at the sight of their old enemies will turn and fly. We will retire some two hundred yards, and perhaps when Hanns Schlott and his men see that the forest directly in front of them is clear they will imagine that we have gone altogether. In that case we shall be able to surprise them again. Give the word, Li Sung." "I will give de signal which all know," was the answer. "Li Sung him make de sound of de parrot. Plenty same bird in de forest, and men of Dyak tribe know at once that dey are to creep back. Dere!" Rising swiftly to his feet the Chinaman sounded the note of a parrot, and again falling upon his knees began to crawl off through the undergrowth. Tyler also turned about, and went off swiftly in the wake of Li Sung, taking good care to keep his head low. When he had traversed some two hundred yards, and all sounds of the pirates had ceased for some little time, he called gently to his guide and motioned to him to come to a halt. "We are far enough now, I think," he said calmly. "Give the signal again, and then lead me round to inspect the positions taken up by the natives. Give each one directions also to be ready to retire again at any moment, only they are not to forget that on the next occasion they are to crawl only some fifty yards, unless, as has happened this time, they see me retire still farther. Now hurry, and, above all, keep silence." Having brought the Dyaks to a halt by the signal, Li Sung went off on all-fours at a rapid rate, taxing Tyler's strength to the full to keep up with him. A gentle call as they went soon brought them to the lurking-place which each individual had selected, and at once the orders were handed to him, the Chinaman acting as interpreter. "Now back," said Tyler, when all was to his satisfaction. "Let me know the instant that the pirates come near us." "No need to tellee dat," said Li Sung. "Massa him keepee little ear widee open and him hear. De Malay man come swift velly soon. Him tink no little man wait for de pirates, but allee gone. 'Velly fine,' him say to himself, but wait. Li Sung know muchee better dan dat. S-s-s-s-h! I tink I hear dem." The gentle rustle of leaves brushed aside, and the snap of breaking twigs under foot, broke upon the ear and brought Tyler full length to the earth once more, where, burying his head in the centre of a dense bush, he peered amongst the trees. "Hish! S-s-s-sh!" came again from the pigtailed Chinaman. "Li Sung him can hear men over dere, and dey not creeping. Dey walking wid head velly high, and dem say dat de white man whom dey hate havee gone away. Wait a little bitee. De Dyaks and deir friend soon tellee anoder story. Hish!" Lying beside Tyler, he whispered the words into his ear, and then pulled him by the sleeve as louder sounds than usual issued from the jungle. Then as both peered from their leafy screen, first one, and then some thirty of the Malays came into view, while behind them their comrades could be heard calling. As for the Dutchman, he was not long in putting in an appearance, for, as the last of the pirates hurried up, he too walked forward, all unconscious of the fact that fifty pair of watching eyes were fixed upon him. "A wild-goose chase!" he was saying to his men, while a sneer wreathed his features. "The white hero has at last given way, and has fled with these savages. But we will soon catch them up, for they are but poorly fed, and will be hampered with their women and children. Keep together, and let one only take the lead, so that the tracks shall not be smothered. Now." In a bunch all came forward at his bidding, while one of their number whom Hanns Schlott called by name sprang to their front and began to lead the way. Now was the time for Tyler and his men, and waiting only till the enemy were within easy shot of the blow-pipes, the former shouted so that all could hear, and at the same time fired his rifle into the middle of the Malays. A second discharge followed, and ere Hanns Schlott and his men could recover from their astonishment, or could realize the fact that six of their number had fallen, the silent watchers had stolen off on hands and knees and had taken up another position some fifty yards in rear. Twice again did the Dyaks under Tyler's lead cause loss to the enemy, for though the latter now came through the jungle feeling their way by inches, and probing every bush with their bullets, the watchers constantly moved their position, and always directed their arrows from a different quarter. At length Hanns Schlott realized that to go farther would be to risk being surrounded and cut off, and with an oath at once ordered a retreat. "Walk back to the swamp slowly, and keep in hiding all the time," he said as he turned about. "Then they will not be able to rush us, and we shall reach our boats in safety. I will keep in your centre, so that all may know that I am with you. As for you, Tyler Richardson," he shouted over his shoulder, "you have beaten me this time, and have won handsomely; but you shall know what it is to be hunted. I tell you that I will sail at once to my friends, and when I return it will be with hundreds. Yes, hundreds shall come who will be willing and eager to do my bidding. Then I will follow across the land, even as far as Sarawak, where your countryman has set up his rule. And more than that, I will cut off your journey on the way, for there are rivers to be crossed, my friend, and you shall find that some of the sea Dyaks are there to stop you and to fall upon their brothers of the land, whom they hate and whose heads they long for. Adieu for the present! Soon, very soon, I shall have your head, and then I tell you that I will place it in a basket and hang it at the foretop of the prahu so that all who care can see what is the fate of a beggarly Englishman." "I will not deign to answer," said Tyler in Li Sung's ear. "He is full of threats and nothing more. I do not fear him, and as for this tale of more men, I do not believe that he has them. It is more than likely that he is merely trying to frighten me, and that until I search for him myself and come upon him I shall not see him again. He has been badly beaten, and he will do all that he can after this to keep out of the way. But he shall not escape, for he is a murderer, and I owe it to my dead friend to follow till he is taken." "Den it must be later on," answered Li Sung, elevating his eyebrows and looking at his young leader with wrinkled brow. "Listen, massa, and Li Sung him tellee you little ting about de Dutchman. He say he comee after you wid plenty much men. Him speakee de truth." "How do you know?" demanded Tyler, turning upon him in surprise. "Li Sung him know because him once pirate too," was the simple reply. "Him sail from Singapore for Borneo with plenty dollar in him pocket, and get captured by de pirates. Dis Dutchman deir leader, wid anoder of de same country." "Christian van Sonerell!" exclaimed Tyler, listening eagerly to the news which the Chinaman was giving him. "He is dead, for he fell when my friend and I captured the schooner." "Den he one velly bad man out of de way, massa. Him cruel man and beat and kick poor Li Sung till him shout for mercy. But me tellee you all. Dis pirate makee me slave, and set me to pull de oar of one of de prahus. Dere Li sit for many days, and wid de prahu him go to de Sarebus tribes." "The Sarebus tribe! Why, they are notorious pirates," said Tyler. "My friend who owned the schooner which the pirates captured, and which we stole from them again, told me that the Malays and Dyaks of the Sarebus were bloodthirsty in the extreme, and were for ever raiding the coast. And you went there?" "Many times, massa. Li Sung him chained to de oar wid many anoder slave, and him pull and pull until de hands blister and get sore, while de lash of de pirates cutee him shoulders. But massa not knowee allee about dese Sarebus men. Dey havee plenty fine prahus, and often dey put to sea wid fifty or more ships and many hundred men. Den dey cruise along about Borneo, sometimes going as far even as de China Sea, and ebery day dey pounce upon de merchant-ships. Sometimes him a native filled with birds'-nests or gum. And den it am a ship wid white-faces on board. Dey all suffer de same. De crew am killed wid the kriss, and de ship am sunk after all her cargo am taken. Dey fear no man, dese pirates, and de Dutchman am now deir leader. Him follow for sure, massa, and him send news to de Sarebus tribe to lie in de way." The Chinaman became suddenly silent, as if the prospect which he had so suddenly opened out were too much for him. As for Tyler, the news amazed him, and filled his mind with anxious forebodings. He, too, had heard of the pirates about Borneo, and had had many a chat on the subject with Mr. Beverley, from whom he had learned their history. The Archipelago was, in fact, overrun with these sea-robbers and murderers, and it had been at first somewhat difficult to realize who were the peaceful natives and who the piratical ones. But at length Tyler had come to know that Borneo was peopled with many races, and that the Malays inhabited many of the coast towns. For years they had beaten down their Dyak neighbours, and though as a general rule the latter would have preferred to live quiet lives and till the soil, they had been compelled to join the Malays simply because of the fact that existence was impossible in any other way. Still, numbers who lived farther inland would have nothing to do with the pirates, and had they had the opportunities would have become contented tribes. But here again the baneful influence of the new-comers was evidenced, for the Malays ground down these poor people and fleeced them shamefully. And so, finding that in spite of diligence and hard work they could not better their condition, the inland tribes took to making war upon one another. Head-hunting, which had always been the vogue, became a mania with many of the tribes, and bloodshed was of daily occurrence. To marry or to make any change in his existence a man had to obtain a head or heads, and it mattered little how he came by the trophies. Often he waylaid his enemy in the forest and slew him without a word of warning, returning in triumph as though he had done the bravest deed. The death of a king or chief, a birth, in fact any unusual occasion, had to be celebrated by the taking of heads, and often, too, by the slaying of slaves. Again, slavery was common, and the Malays were for ever raiding these inland tribes by means of the rivers, for the purpose of making captives, whom they sold. And thus when Tyler landed on the coast of Borneo it was to find the country in a state of chaos and misery, except perhaps in the neighbourhood of Sarawak, where James Brooke had settled. Elsewhere all was given over to violence and piracy, the Dyaks of the land fighting one another and taking heads, while the Malays and the Dyaks of the coast, known as the sea Dyaks, ravaged the river towns and cruised in the open sea. Within a hundred miles of Sarawak there were many of their strongholds, and perhaps the most important of all was that at Sarebus, where dwelt the ruffians under Hanns Schlott's command. For long did Tyler lie there thinking the matter out, until the Chinaman touched him upon the arm and urged him to retire. "De pirates gone, but velly soon dey come again in plenty big numbers," he said, with a doleful shake of his head. "Better put as much of de land between us as we can, den de Dutchman have furder to walk, and perhaps we havee time to comee to Sarawak." "Then we will retire at once and catch the tribe up, Li Sung. Call the men together, and send four of the best scouts after the pirates to see that they really embark. Once they have watched them depart they can rejoin us, and I have no doubt that they will have little difficulty in doing so, for they are used to the forest." "And can run for many hours, massa. Leavee it to dem, and Li Sung him tellee you dat dey reach de tribe before we are dere." Once again the shriek of a parrot awoke the forest, bringing all the men together at once. Then, having taken the precaution to send some of their number back to the river, there to watch the pirates till they had gone, and to throw out a few scouts in advance and on either hand, the main body pushed on at a rapid pace in the wake of their friends. And now, as they trudged through the jungle, Tyler had ample opportunity of observing his strange companions. He saw that they were fine, athletic-looking men, with muscular figures and powerful limbs. All were almost naked, and the only clothing of which they boasted was a loin-cloth and a handkerchief of gaudy colouring which encircled the head. At the waist was slung a pouch containing betel-nut, which all delighted to chew, while in addition a bundle of arrows was carried. A short sword, with a handle of carved wood, completed the weapons of offence, while a big shield of bark, which was slung over the shoulders, afforded some protection in hand-to-hand contests. That evening, as the sun was about to set, Tyler and his men came up with the main portion of the tribe, and found them encamped on the edge of a small stream which provided abundant water. "And now to discuss the situation and prepare for to-morrow," said Tyler, when he had taken something to eat and had thrown himself down beside John Marshall. "We have a big journey before us, and many dangers to face. Already I have told you of Hanns Schlott's threat, and of the Sarebus pirates who will waylay us. What course shall we take? Tell me what you think, for you have had little else to do for the last few hours." "And I can't say that I've been able to fix the matter," was the sailor's candid answer. "Yer see, sir, I wasn't aware of these here Sarebus fellers. They jest makes all the difference, and when you tell me that they're goin' to waylay us, why, it makes me think that we'll have to retire on the river. We ain't fit to fight a tribe of them Malays, and if we go on we'll get chopped to pieces. Now there's the schooner. She'd float with a little help." "And we should sail away, leaving these unfortunate Dyaks to meet Hanns Schlott alone," said Tyler quietly. "You did not think of that, did you, John?" "You're right there, sir, I didn't, or I'd never have proposed the move. But I don't see no other way out of the trouble." "Then we will push on and trust to good fortune and to careful leading. I have watched the men I had with me in the forest, and I could see that they were full of excitement at first, and that the very sound of an approaching pirate made them tremble and think of flight. After the first brush, however, they began to have confidence in themselves, and now they are bursting with their own importance. Their spirit will extend to the others, and if we only foster it, and let them see that they are as good as the Malays, they will fight hard for their lives, and for the sake of their women and children. "But they are useless as they are, for they rush about in a mob, and there is no commanding them. For that reason we will divide them up into three companies of fifty, one of which I will look after, while you and Li Sung lead the others. The remainder will guard the women and children. We will march in that order, and when we get in the neighbourhood of the Sarebus river we will send scouts ahead. What do you think of that plan?" "It's a good 'un, and of that there ain't a doubt," was John's emphatic answer; "and next to the idea of a boat I think it's the best. Yer see, if it had been possible to pack the whole lot on to the schooner we could have sailed right into Sarawak, and could have easily beaten off a prahu or two. But it's no use bothering when we all know that the schooner isn't big enough for half the number." "While Hanns Schlott may very well have thought of the same thing," burst in Tyler, "and for fear that we should refloat her and sail away, may blow her to pieces, or take her himself. No, a journey by land is the only thing for us, though should the opportunity arrive of seizing boats belonging to the pirates I should not hesitate. But now to see to the camp and to the guards. To-morrow we will arrange the companies and instruct the men." Rising to their feet Tyler and his companion went the round of the camp, taking Li Sung with them to interpret. Then, having seen that guards were thrown out in the forest, and all precautions taken against surprise, they wrapped themselves in some rough cloth which the natives had provided and fell into a deep sleep. Early on the following morning they were afoot, and calling all the men of the tribe together at once informed them of their intention to divide them into companies. "It is the way in which the white men of our race fight," said Tyler, addressing himself to Li Sung, who obediently interpreted to the Dyaks. "By splitting our numbers in the way I propose, we provide three companies capable of acting independently of one another, or together, while we set them free of the care of the women and children. Of course if we were hard pressed we should place the latter in the centre, so as to give them more safety, but we shall hope that it will never come to that. Again, on the march one company can go in advance, and to it will be given the task of seeing that the jungle is clear of the enemy. The second will march in rear and guard that portion, while the third can roam at will and can replenish our stock of food. I understand that all of the tribe are trained hunters, and that being the case there should be no need for us to starve." "The words of our leader are full of wisdom," replied the young chief who had formerly addressed Tyler, "and we are willing to do his bidding. More than that, we are pleased at the manner in which he led the men who held the pirates back, and we say that while he is with us we are ready to fight, whatever the numbers opposed to us and whatever the dangers. He has proved himself a great and wise commander, and we know also that he is brave. Can we ask for a better leader, and can we refuse what his experience dictates?" A guttural exclamation of approval burst from his fellows as Li Sung turned to interpret the words, while a few who had formed part of the rear-guard on the previous day sprang to their feet and waved their weapons above their heads in their excitement. "Say that we will even fight all these Sarebus pirates," called out one of them, a fine stalwart man of light complexion. "They will be thinking of pursuit only, and will never dream, my friends, that we should be bold enough to throw ourselves upon them. Why, then, should we not take them by surprise, and ere they could turn upon us in their full numbers, having recovered from their astonishment, disappear like ghosts, just as we did but yesterday when in the forest?" Again a shout of approval burst from the assembled warriors, while the young chief rose to his feet and, mastering his excitement with an effort, addressed Tyler for the second time. "We are even ready to do that," he said slowly. "As our comrade says, let us change for once from being those who fly. For years it has been our fate to be hunted. We have toiled and striven for comfort and peace, and all that we have asked is to be allowed to remain in our homes, there to live quietly. But time and again have these pirates come upon us and rooted us out. They have taken wives and children from the tribe, and they have sent us homeless and scattered into the jungle. Brothers, the time has come to change all this. But yesterday I should have been afraid to mention such a thing; indeed, the thought would never have crossed my brain. But the fighting in the forest, the ease with which we drove this hated Dutchman and his men back, and the fact that we have as a leader a man who is brave, who faced the mias without fear, and who has even escaped from the pirates, having beaten them with the help of one companion alone, induces me to urge you to think of punishment, of retaliation. Let us fall upon these pirates swiftly, and when least expected, and then, as our brother says, and as our leader suggested yesterday, let us do all that is possible to them and retire into the depths of the forest ere they can attack us in force. Surely that is a brighter prospect than to be ever flying? Surely if we are men this is a plan which should meet with our approval!" Drawing himself to his full height, the young Dyak looked round at the tribesmen, searching each face closely. Had he had any doubt of their wishes in the matter, or of their determination to turn the tables on their enemies, it was at once dispelled, for with the usual impulsiveness of these savage people they all with one accord leapt to their feet, and, brandishing their shields and weapons in the air, set up a shout of defiance. "There," said the chief, turning with a grave smile to Tyler, "you see what can be expected. Two days ago these warriors were only warriors in name, for all were dispirited. No one has ever led them, and when we have met the pirates it has always been in scattered groups. Now you have shown us that by keeping together, by coming upon the enemy unawares, and by retiring before they can assemble to harm us, we can meet them with success. We will follow you blindly, and since it is clear that this Dutchman will do all that he can to take us, and that death will stare us all in the face, while our women and children will be captured and made slaves, why, we will fight hard and do all that men can to defeat our opponents." "Then we will set about the division of the tribe, and will draw up rules for the guidance of each company," said Tyler, as soon as the words had been conveyed to him by the Chinaman. "You can tell them, Li Sung, that absolute obedience must be given, and that the arrangement must be carried out at once." At his orders all sat down again, and then the young chief rapidly called the men apart, telling each individual off to one of the three companies. All who were left were sent to take charge of the women and children, while the others listened while Li Sung interpreted their white leader's directions. "Tell them that those who march in advance will send back news and orders immediately they come upon the enemy," he said. "They are then to close in to the women and children, while those who are abroad hunting will at once return so as to be at hand in case they are required. On no account is a warrior to betray his presence to an enemy. He is to send back a comrade to the main body and to me, so that others may be sent to the scene. See that they understand thoroughly, for it would never do to have confusion." An hour later the tribe of Dyaks marched from their bivouac, Tyler, with one of the companies, leading the way. Marching through dense jungle again, it was some considerable time before more open ground was reached, for the island of Borneo is a thickly wooded one. At length, however, they emerged upon a stony plain, and trudged on for miles over rocks and boulders till more trees came into view, and in their midst a river of great depth, which barred their onward progress. "What shall we do to cross?" asked Tyler of Li Sung, who had accompanied him, handing over the command of his own company to the native chief. "The river is too deep for the women and children, so that it will not help us if we men swim across." "You will see, massa," was the Chinaman's laconic reply. "De Dyaks used to de forest, and de river, and dey show you how to cross velly soon. See, dey am searching for a tree, and will cut it down." Standing on one side, our hero watched with interest as the natives searched along the bank for a suitable tree. Soon they came upon a long, stout bamboo, at the foot of which two lusty youths commenced to hack with their swords, while others leant against the trunk so as to direct it across the stream. It was wonderful to see how quickly they cut it down, and with what dexterity they caused it to fall in the right direction. Scarcely was it fallen, and its boughs safely lodged upon the farther bank, than one of the Dyaks sprang upon the trunk, and without the help of a guide-rail or of a stick, ran across it. Others followed swiftly and commenced to hack the branches away, and when it came to Tyler's turn to essay the crossing, only a long slim trunk stretched from bank to bank. Very different was it to him with his boots on his feet to balance upon the frail bridge, but his followers were looking on, and, therefore, though the trunk bent and swayed in an alarming manner, and though the water was some twenty feet beneath, he went on without a halt and without so much as a falter. "Massa has done velly fine," said Li Sung, following across the stream and kow-towing. "The crossing am one which asks for all de courage, and de white man was not likee dese natives, for he has boots of leather upon his feet. But we shall be able to go on plenty quick, and de tribe will follow without a halt. If we meet another river we shall do de same, and I can tellee de massa dat de Borneans are never stopped by such a thing. Bamboos help dem everywhere, and if dey require to do anyding they turn to dat tree. Deir houses am framed with de bamboo, dey make stockades wid de trunks, and if dey wish to climb de tallest tree for fruit or for honey, de same wood comes to aid dem. But shall we go on, massa? De country am open and de day am velly fine." Halting occasionally to rest the men and to allow those in rear to catch them up, Tyler and his company kept on a direct course towards the distant town of Sarawak. Not for one moment would their young leader allow the line to be departed from, or a detour to be made so as to avoid the river upon which was situated the stronghold of the Sarebus pirates. "They would fall in with us just the same," he said to John, when discussing the question, "and by going farther to the left, into the heart of the island, we shall be giving ourselves a longer tramp and to no purpose. And besides, by missing the river we shall lose all chance of capturing boats and taking to the sea." "Yer ain't thinking of taking their prahus?" exclaimed John in amazement. "It's a big job, and might cost us our lives." "It might," had been Tyler's answer, "but I am inclined to think that it would be the best course for us to pursue, for if not, we shall have to retreat to Sarawak by land with all these pirates hanging on to our rear. In that way they would manage to kill many of our men, while we should be constantly harassed. By doing as I suggest we shall come upon these Malays and their comrades when they least expect us, and with a little fortune on our side shall defeat them. Then, if we have laid our plans well, we may be able to embark the whole tribe and set sail. I would far rather face them at sea than know that they were hanging on our heels as we trudged through the jungle, and that at any moment, and particularly during the night, they might charge down upon us and stampede the men. A bold course will best help us to reach safety." Day after day did the tribe push on in the direction of Sarawak. Occasionally, when there happened to be a wide break in the trees, they would catch a sight of the blue ocean, but very soon it would be hidden by the forest or by the hills. On their left, and many miles inland of them, a long blue range of hills stretched unbrokenly, cutting them off from the centre of Borneo, while here and there an isolated mountain reared its peak into the sky. Overhead a hot sun poured down upon them, blistering Tyler's face and tanning his skin; but it troubled him far less than it would have done had they been marching across plains, for the leaves above sheltered them greatly, while when passing across a clearing of wide extent a palm leaf thrust beneath his wide-brimmed hat made him secure against sunstroke. At length the retreating tribe came within some sixty miles of the winding river of Sarebus, where Hanns Schlott and his pirates might be expected, and at once Tyler set to work to prepare for the struggle. "At present we have not instructed our men in the attack," he said, calling John Marshall and the Chinaman to him. "Coming through the forest we have kept one formation, and the Dyaks have learnt how to march in safety very well. I think that there has never been a day when an enemy could have taken us unawares, while ample watch has been kept at night. But now we ought to have some practice in working together for the attack, and I propose that we devote an hour or more each evening to the purpose. Let it be understood that at about two hours before sunset the company in advance is to turn round and act as an enemy. The remainder will march with one company in rear as before, and with half the third company between the women and children and the men who have gone in advance, and who are for the time being to take the part of pirates. To make sure that no accidents can happen, we will let them wear a strip of cloth on their arms, or, better still, let them attack bareheaded. Then we shall know at once that they are really friends. "As to their method of approaching us, I leave that to them, but they must do their best to surround us and cut us off, while we will place our men so as to drive them away. No harm can possibly result, while the practice cannot fail to do good, and steady the men for our approaching fight with the Sarebus pirates. Li Sung, you will call the chiefs together and tell them what I say, and also that we will commence practising to-morrow evening." On the following day it was evident that the spirits of the warriors of the Dyak tribe of which Tyler was the leader were considerably raised at the prospect before them, while their whole demeanour was changed. Instead of being down at heart and fearful of the future, they seemed to have imbibed some of their white chief's enthusiasm, and they set about the work of making themselves efficient with a zeal which showed how eager they were. Marching quietly through the day, with an occasional rest so as not to overtire the women and children, they came to a halt some two hours before the sun would set, and went silently to the posts which had been assigned to them. Very soon scouts came running in to say that men who were bareheaded were creeping through the jungle, and ere long the two bodies were engaged, blunted arrows being used so as to make the practice more real. For three evenings in succession was the same movement carried out, and when at length the scouts who had been sent far in advance returned with the news that the Sarebus river was in sight, and that they had seen one of the many piratical strongholds, Tyler had his men well in hand. Thanks to his forethought the natives now kept together, and instead of making frantic and useless rushes, waited for the signal from their captain. A shrill call, too, would bring all the companies together to one spot, while those who had the important post of guarding the women and children thoroughly understood how to protect them against the enemy, and how, when the day seemed to be going against their comrades, to steal away with their charges into the jungle and there seek safety in flight. And so it turned out that when the news arrived that the foe was at hand, the Dyaks heard it with cries of pleasure instead of with those of fear and dismay, for they were more than anxious to try conclusions with an enemy from whom they had suffered heavily. CHAPTER X The Pirate Stronghold "At last we are close to these Malays and the sea Dyaks," said Tyler with a sigh of relief, when the news of the proximity of the Sarebus river was brought to him, "and as it is very necessary that the leader of our party should be fully acquainted with their haunts, I shall leave the tribe at once and push on with a few followers. To you, John, I leave the post of commander during my absence, with instructions to remain here in hiding till I return or send for you. You will place scouts all round, and keep a most careful watch, for were you to be seen by any stray native the news would buzz to the ears of Hanns Schlott and his men, and we should have to turn tail and run for our lives. Remember that sudden attack, and still more rapid disappearance, are the only movements for us, and that to stand up to all the pirates would be fatal, for they have firearms in plenty, while we have none." "Then the orders are to remain here for the present," replied the young boatswain, touching his cap. "Right, sir! and I'll obey so long as all goes well. But supposing you fall into this Dutchman's clutches? What'll I do then?" "Whatever seems most sensible, but rescue will be out of the question. Don't imagine that Hanns Schlott would keep me a prisoner for long. He would have me killed at once, and it is that fact which will make me fight all the harder in case I am attacked. But it will not come to that, I hope, for I and the men who are to accompany me will steal upon them like ghosts." "But massa may happen to be seen," interrupted Li Sung, who had listened intently. "Supposing Malay or sea Dyak come suddenly up while huntin' in de forest, and see de white man? Den him runee for him life, and shout dat de enemy am near. And velly soon de white man havee him head right off--a-a-ah!" Li Sung grasped at his pigtail, and, lifting it well above his head, made as if to sever his neck with the long blade which dangled from his belt. "Not nicee, dat," he went on with a grimace. "Dis Dutchman wantee de head of massa, and massa him likee to choppee de head of de pirate leader. Velly fine, but massa must havee plenty care. Suppose you go like de Dyak? Den if de pirates see you dey tink you one of demselves and not shout and try to takee de head." Li Sung cocked his head knowingly on one side and looked at Tyler anxiously, for he thought much of the young Englishman who had so suddenly come into his life, and was fearful for his safety. "Den p'r'aps you be able to takee plenty fine sight of de stockade," he added eagerly. "Besides, Li Sung him knowee de river, and draw him for you so." Reminding Tyler that he had once been one of the pirates, though much against his will, and had been with them into the Sarebus river, the Chinaman again dragged his sword from his belt, and, clearing a wide patch of sandy ground from fallen leaves, began to roughly outline the course of the river and the position of the Malay towns and stockades. As for our hero, the suggestion which Li Sung had just made occupied his thoughts almost to the exclusion of all others, though when the sketch was completed he followed each line with the utmost attention, and, not satisfied with that, transferred the drawing to a scrap of crinkled and dirty paper which he happened by good chance to have with him. But he did not allow the question of disguise to escape him, and at once returned to it. "There is no doubt that the sight of a white man other than the Dutchman or a European who is in league with him would at once raise the neighbourhood. Hanns Schlott and his men would immediately guess that I was near at hand, and that would put them on their guard and ruin our plans. Besides, there is no doubt that it would mean the destruction of the tribe who have selected me as leader, for our numbers are ridiculously small when compared with the pirates, while we are practically unarmed. We should be cut to pieces in the jungle, and that would be the end of our journey. No, I must go as a Dyak or as a Malay, and in that way escape observation." "And I reckon as it wouldn't be a bad thing for me to do the same, sir," broke in John Marshall. "Yer see, there ain't any knowing when we may drop on some of these covies, and the sight of me would send 'em howling, jest the same as it would if they dropped their eyes on you. Let's both get made into darkies, and then we'll be ready for anything." "And Li Sung him see dat allee managed for you," said the Chinaman with a smile. "Him velly fine man, de China boy, and him done same ting often and often. Plenty dye wid de Dyaks, and if massa and his friend havee little patience Li Sung bring de stuff. De dress am noding. Ebery man here help wid dat." "And what about our feet?" demanded Tyler suddenly, realizing that it would be impossible to trudge through the forest without becoming rapidly lame. Indeed, he knew that it would require more than a week of careful walking to harden the skin sufficiently to allow them to cross smooth ground, but when there were stones and thorns progress would be impossible, or, at any rate, exceedingly painful. "You see," he went on, "we have worn boots up to this, and I am sure that it would never do for us to go barefooted. We should be laid up after the very first day's tramp." "Then why not get these darkies to make sandals or some such foot-covering for us, sir?" asked the boatswain. "They're clever enough at that sort of thing, and I ain't a doubt but what they'll be able to turn out something suitable from bamboo or some of the leaves in the forest. What do yer say, Johnnie?" "Dat you am velly right. De Dyaks makee plenty fine sandal velly soon. Leave it to Li Sung, and him comee back wid de tings." "Then be as quick as you can," said Tyler, "for I wish to push on at once. We have made a fairly rapid march up to this, and it is probable that the pirates are not expecting us as yet. Indeed I hope that they will have taken it for granted that we have made a wide detour, in which case they will have sent men towards the mountains, the line which we should have taken had it been our object and intention to avoid this river on which they have their stronghold. In any case, as I have said, they would hardly expect us here at present, if at all, and by seeing that we do not delay, we shall have all the more opportunity of effecting a surprise. How long will you be, Li Sung?" "One, p'r'aps two little hour, massa. But Li go see at once, and come back velly soon." With this reply the Chinaman went away towards the encamped tribe of Dyaks, with his pigtail dangling over his arm. Evidently the cunning fellow was busily thinking over his master's wants, for his chin was on his breast and his face lined with wrinkles. But, like all of his country, his wits were sharp, and as he went he had already made up his mind how to carry out Tyler's wishes. In fact, only half the time mentioned by him had elapsed when he was seen to be returning, carrying a bundle. "If de massa and him friend will stripee off de clothes Li will stain de bodies of both wid dis stuff," he said, producing a gourd filled with an oily liquid of reddish-brown colour. "Dey need not fear dat dis am poison, for me tellee dem dat it only de juice of de betel-nut. When deir bodies seen to, Li havee someting else for dem." With a grin of pleasure at the thought of his success, and at the rapidity with which he had carried out the matter, Li Sung accompanied Tyler and John Marshall to their bivouac, where the latter quickly removed their clothing. Then, with a splintered end of bamboo which he had pounded between a couple of smooth boulders till it was as pliable and soft as any brush, the Chinaman set about the work of transforming them from clear-complexioned Englishmen to the colour of Dyaks. Twice did he go over the surface of their bodies, and then, standing some paces away, he inspected them critically, his head on one side and a comical air of severity and anxiety upon his features. As for the two young fellows, they stood before him with grave faces, which bore only the smallest traces of trouble, for they were confident of the ability of Li Sung to convert them to the appearance of Dyaks. "After all," said Tyler, with a little laugh which he attempted to make careless in tone, "we need only be disguised sufficiently to escape detection at some distance, for if the enemy actually come within a few paces of either of us it will be a case of fighting, for they are bound to discover that we are not what we seem to be. You must recollect that we do not speak more than a few words of the language." "But de massa may pass with oders who am plenty able to talkee Dyak," cried Li Sung. "S'pose him go soon to de strong place of de pirates and wish to enter. Den if he stay behind de oders, and not seem to have de lead, one of de warriors speakee to de enemy. But me not satisfied. One little moment and me see how you lookee. Massa and him friend must put on de Dyak cloths." Unfastening the bundle which he had brought under his arm, and which was enclosed in a couple of enormous leaves, he produced a couple of the loin-cloths worn by the natives, and also two gaudy handkerchiefs to bind about their heads. Within them were wrapped two pairs of neat sandals manufactured by the Dyaks, and composed of thin slips of flexible bamboo thickly padded with strips of skin. "De hide make him soft to de feet," explained Li Sung, holding them up for inspection with great pride. "Den dey velly silent, so dat massa and him friend can comee plenty near to de pirate without making noise. Now for de betel-nut and de stain again. Please to open de mouth of you both, and Li him paint de teeth." Baring their teeth in obedience to his wish, both Tyler and John Marshall submitted to the operation of having them coloured reddish-brown with the stain, and then chewed at the nut which their Chinese helper had thrust between their lips. "I suppose that it is a custom which one has to acquire," remarked Tyler with a grimace. "I must say that if I had any choice in the matter I would rather not chew anything, and least of all the betel-nut. Still, all the natives have the habit, and it will be as well for us to develop it also." "I'd rather a plug of twist any day," grunted John in disgust. "Sour! Why, this here betel's worse than anythin'. But as yer say, it's for the best, and as I reckon our safety'll depend upon sich little things, why--" The boatswain turned the nut into his other cheek with another exclamation of disgust, and set to work to chew it with an air of resignation which called a smile to Tyler's features. A moment later the Chinaman again demanded their attention. "P'r'aps de massa and him friend smilee at de China boy," he said in engaging tones. "Me wishee to see how de mouths look, and then me tellee you if de dress and eberyting am allee nicee." Once more did Tyler and his companion follow the wishes of Li Sung, and, turning towards him, opened their mouths and smiled, so as to show their coloured teeth. Then they walked up and down the clearing while he stared at them, his head still on one side, and his fingers grasping his pigtail. "Massa and de friend of massa will do plenty fine," he said at length. "Dey Dyaks now in eberyting but de tongue, and him dey can keep still. Li have done him best and am satisfied." "And we too," responded Tyler. "But I have delayed long enough already, and will at once set out to reconnoitre. John, take command of the camp and of the tribe while I am gone. Li, you can come with me as far as the liver, but after that you had better keep in the forest, for some of your old comrades might recognize you." At once there was a stir in the camp, while those who were to accompany their leader hastily gathered their weapons together and prepared to march. Then one of the scouts who had returned with the news that the Sarebus river was at hand placed himself at the head of the little band and led them into the forest, their departure being watched with the greatest interest by all who remained behind. Indeed there was an air of excitement and of anticipation about all the warriors, for upon the report which their leader and his friends brought would depend their future actions, and no doubt their success. Had it not been for the fear that some of the enemy might be in the neighbourhood, hunting the forest for game, the tribesmen would have shouted their farewell to their leader, and would have accompanied him some distance on his journey. As it was, however, they remained in the camp, and at once set about placing themselves in a position of defence. As for Tyler, marching at the head of his little band, he could not help but be gratified by the willing obedience which each of the warriors gave him. That his change in costume had won him still more of their esteem was evident also, for they realized that he had made the alteration so as to assure the safety of the tribe. Stalking ahead of them, Tyler found his sandals even more comfortable than boots, while his light clothing, the fact that his limbs were freer now than ever before, and that the heat was so great that he had no feeling of being cold, made him more active than ever. About his shoulder he still carried his rifle, while the betel-pouch at his waist was filled with ammunition. In his waist-cloth, hidden by the folds, were his revolvers, while a shield of enormous dimensions was slung to his back for the sake of appearances alone. "Once within easy distance of the river we will search for a path," he said as Li Sung came up beside him. "Perhaps if the forest is very dense, as seems to be the case close to the rivers, we will hunt for a boat and borrow it. But then we should be more easily seen, and my aim and object is to remain unobserved. One thing I am particularly anxious to search for is a fleet of their prahus, for with boats at our command we could laugh at Hanns Schlott and all his men." "But dere are de booms to be thought of," said the Chinaman. "Dey are below de forts, but sometimes, no one knowee when, dey am moved, and den no prahu can sail down de river." "Nothing would stop a fleet of boats coming down with wind and stream," answered Tyler, undismayed by the prospect which the Chinaman had suddenly unfolded. "These booms will be made of bamboo and other trees, and will be chained to the banks by means of enormous posts. Very well, if the boom itself is too strong for us, we must hack the posts to pieces. But the weight of the fleet alone should be enough. However, that is a question for the future. For the present we have to think of the pirates and their lair, and before considering booms have to come across the prahus." "Dat you will do plenty easy, massa. If de pirate at home de ships am dere also. But me tink dat all de men better go out into de forest and keep eye wide open." "Then give them the order," said Tyler. "You and I will walk together, and they can keep up with us by following the sounds." Accordingly the men who formed the party which had set out from the camp for the purpose of watching the enemy divided, and, plunging into the trees on either hand, quickly became lost to view. Nor was it possible to hear them, as a general rule, so silent were they in their movements. At length, after a hot and weary tramp, the little band came upon a narrow stream, which the scout at once proclaimed to be part of the Sarebus river. "We follow this for an hour," he said, "and then we strike the main channel. Another half-hour will bring us to another river, which forks with the one we shall be following, and with it pours into the wide bed of the water-way which is known as the Sarebus. There will our leader come upon the pirates, and at that spot he will see that they have a town and many forts. I myself was there in the early hours, and at once turned to come swiftly with the news. As for a path, there is one beside the larger of the streams, and we shall be able to make use of it. Is it our leader's wish that we push on?" "Do so at once," answered Tyler, Li Sung interpreting the words. "We will halt when we come to the larger stream, and will then go more carefully." Once again did the little party set forward, and, plunging through the trees, finally came to a spot where the smaller tributary emerged into a larger one, which in its turn discharged its contents into the main channel. And now each one prepared for instant flight or for hostilities, and, unslinging weapons, advanced in a crouching attitude beside the water. "See, massa," suddenly whispered Li Sung when they had crept forward half a mile, "there are de huts and de stockades or forts. Dat am Paddi, de big place of de pirates, where all de gold and riches go, and where de slaves am kept. Me knowee him velly well, for it am dere dat China boy first taken when him captive, and from Paddi him pull down de river on de prahu, for de first time in him life living wid de pirates." "And the next time you sail to the sea let us hope it will be more as your own master," murmured Tyler, scarcely able to repress his excitement at the sight of the stockades before him. "But let us get to some more advantageous point from which we can look down upon this place which you say is called Paddi. Lead us into the bushes, Li, for you must know better than anyone where we shall be able to obtain the best view." Emboldened by the fact that no one seemed to be stirring in the neighbourhood of the pirates' stronghold, and that not a single sampan or boat of any description ferried across the water, the party of scouts pressed on, led by the cunning Chinaman, and at length arrived at a spot which permitted them to look over the walls of the bamboo stockade which surrounded Paddi, and see all that was taking place within. "One would almost imagine that the town had been deserted," remarked Tyler in a whisper, after staring into the stronghold for some minutes. "The huts seem for the most part to be empty, and so far I have seen only women and a few old men and children. What can it mean? Surely Hanns Schlott and his followers are not scared at the thought of our coming." "De Dutchman am too wise and too bold for dat," answered Li Sung emphatically. "Him havee some little game. Him gone into de forest, p'r'aps, to find de white men and deir Dyak friends, or him at sea looking out for oder ships to makee up for de loss of de schooner. Him not deserted Paddi, dat China boy knowee for sure." "For how long does he cruise away from this place?" asked Tyler thoughtfully, after another long interval during which his eyes were fixed upon the town which lay before him. "P'r'aps one day, p'r'aps many. Li him not say for sure. If ships to be found in plenty outside, he stay dere and take dem every one." "We might even destroy the whole stronghold," murmured Tyler to himself, "for it seems to me that it is practically without men. Of course I don't like the thought of attacking a place which has only women and children to defend it, but I would see that they were not harmed, and, after all, the burning of this town would, I fear, be too big an undertaking. Li once said that there were other places on this river, and as they must be lower down it is probable that they would at once take the alarm, and their prahus would put out into the river to stop our escape. No, silence is what we must aim at, and a dark night would be the best, only navigation then of the water-way would be very difficult. As to Hanns Schlott and his men, it is clear that they are away on an expedition, though whether in search of ourselves or not it is difficult to decide. Where do you think that they have gone?" he suddenly demanded, turning upon the Chinaman. "Dat Li can only guessee at, massa. But dere no prahus here, and so de China boy him tink dat de Dutchman and him Malays at sea looking along de coast in case de white man and him friends come dat way. Oders go into de forest and lie in wait along by de mountains. Scouts left between de two, and when we am found de news taken to both de parties." That the question was difficult to decide was clear, and for long Tyler lay flat upon the ground, hidden in the undergrowth, thinking the matter out; and all the while his eyes were busily engaged in taking in every part of the town and forts of Paddi. Lying at the fork of the river, the huts in which the pirates lived were protected on the water side by stockades of bamboo, strongly erected and placed in most advantageous positions, so that the Sarebus was commanded for some hundreds of yards. In the rear there were other forts, but of less strength and importance, for attack from that direction could not be very dangerous, seeing that the forest was there of the densest, and would almost forbid the approach of an enemy. Stretching across the mouths of each of the tributaries which poured into the main channel, and between which lay the town, were two enormous booms, awash in the water, and half-covered with twigs and reeds which had been swept against them and caught. Each boom was anchored by means of chain-cable to a tree on either shore, while the same material bound the bamboos together. "A heavy ship would soon break through," thought Tyler, "but to light boats the task would be a difficult one, and axes would be needed. But I doubt very much whether the pirates place their prahus above the booms. It is pretty certain that they anchor them in the river below, so as to be able to drop down stream without a moment's delay. But in case of attack in force by an enemy coming up the river I have little doubt that they would swing one of the booms aside for a time until all the prahus had passed through, and would then close it again. Well, nothing is stirring, and for the time we must be content to remain where we are and keep watch. If their fleet was here now I should call up all the tribe and let them lie in the forest while I told them off to the different boats. Then as soon as darkness fell we would slip aboard and float down-stream. Once in safety we would search for our friends, and if only the _Dido_ came in sight would lead an attacking-party against the stronghold. Yes, that would be fine, but it is too bright a prospect to hope for. It is more than likely that we shall have to fight for our lives, and for the ships should the latter come upon the scene. Halloo!" His exclamation, which was whispered in low tones, was caused by a movement on the part of Li Sung and the Dyaks who lay beside him; for of a sudden, while staring at the stronghold before them each had turned his head to the right, while an onlooker could see that they were listening intently. "H-h-ush!" said the Chinaman, creeping closer to his leader. "We hearee plenty noise down de stream, and we tink dat de pirates come. Li him say dat de prahus am using de sweeps, and dat dere am many of dem. But waitee a little longer and we see all. P'r'aps de enemy returning home to search for us." Lying there upon his face it was not long before Tyler too could distinguish some distant sounds, and soon these came to his ear as the splash of many oars. Then voices could be heard, sweeping up the surface of the water, though as yet a bend in the banks of the Sarebus hid the oncomers from view. Ah! Each of the watchers gave vent to a gasp of surprise, for of a sudden a huge prahu came into sight, her decks loaded with dusky pirates, while, above, an immense spread of sail flapped loosely against her masts. On either side projected some twenty long sweeps, and, propelled by these, she was coming up the stream at a wonderful rate. In an instant Tyler recognized her as the vessel which had lain in the harbour of Singapore, and the one to which Hanns Schlott had retreated when beaten back by the Dyak tribe. Nor was it long before he caught sight of the rascally leader, the man who had murdered Mr. Beverley, for, thanks to the pace at which she was driven, the prahu was very quickly sweeping before them, and a glance showed the Dutchman standing in his old place at the helm, his eyes fixed upon the town of Paddi before him. "He is anxious to learn whether there is any news of us," thought Tyler, "and I am sure that he has not the faintest notion that we are watching him at this moment. Wait, my friend, and I will show you that an English lad can beat you, even though you have so many villains to count upon and to come to your aid. But what is coming now?" His gaze left the leading prahu and went back to the bend of the Sarebus, round which other vessels were now appearing. But on this occasion their progress was slower, though it seemed that they were employing a similar number of sweeps. But closer inspection soon showed the reason, for a rope was seen stretching taut behind the foremost to a second prahu, which again was made fast to a third. "Towing something, a prize of some sort," said Tyler, "and in a few seconds we shall be able to see. Perhaps they have been making a raid upon some of the neighbouring towns, or have captured a prahu sailing with merchandise from Singapore. By Jove!" A startled cry escaped his lips as another object came round the bend; and well it might, for, dragged into sight at the tail of the last of the three prahus, came a vessel of European build, with high bulwarks and tapering masts, which seemed to strike against the trees which overhung the river. On her deck were some ten of the Malays, with long poles in their hands with which to propel her should she come to shallow water and show signs of holding there. In addition, four of their comrades had placed themselves in the bows, and were busily seeing to the anchor, preparing to let it go. "Where could the ship have come from? Who was the owner, and what had became of the unfortunate crew?" Tyler found himself wondering vaguely, and attempting to find a solution to the questions. "The last is easy to reply to," he said bitterly. "Hanns and his rascals will have killed them without mercy, and will have thrown them overboard. But a European vessel! That must be a prize indeed, and adds another to the many serious crimes which Hanns Schlott has committed. But they are nearly at their berth, and we shall see what is to happen; and here are other prahus coming round the bend." Breathless with excitement, and almost unable to remain still in hiding, he watched eagerly the scene taking place before his eyes. It was evident that the pirates were filled with elation at their capture, and that they had returned to their stronghold in the best of spirits, for they shouted to one another, and as the walls of the fort were lined with their women and children, they answered their cries of welcome with thunderous shouts of joy and triumph. Then, as the leading prahu came opposite the first of the stockades, and within a stone's-throw of the boom across the entrance to the river beside which Tyler was hiding, she was thrown into the wind, the sweeps were taken in, and an anchor dropped. Almost at the same moment a big sampan splashed from her deck and Hanns Schlott descended into it. "Let all come to their moorings and bring our prizes ashore," he called out so loudly that the words came clearly to the ears of the watchers and were promptly interpreted by Li Sung. "When we have had a meal we will see to that beggarly Englishman who is journeying this way, and I shall hope to hear from the men whom we sent towards the mountains that they have sighted them, and are merely awaiting our help to fall upon them and kill every one of the tribe, their leaders included." Waving his arm to his followers he sprang into the sampan, his bulky weight causing the frail boat to rock dangerously and ship some water. Then the oarsman, who stood in the stern with a couple of long paddles, the handles of which crossed, bent to his work and ferried his leader to the forts. A minute later and the rascally Dutchman had disappeared behind the stockade, and later on was seen to enter the largest of the huts which lay inside. By now the remaining prahus had reached their moorings, and at once a busy scene ensued, the men dropping into their sampans, which the majority of the vessels had in tow, and taking the ropes to the barrels and kegs which floated on the surface of the river with an anchor or a heavy stone to hold them to the bottom. As for the big ship which had fallen a prize, her new crew kept her with head up-stream, and conscious that she would require more than a single anchor, for the stream came strong and swift, sent out a couple of extra cables which were made fast to trees which grew on the bank. Then they prepared to leave her and go to their homes. "Let us hope that they will remain there over the night," said Tyler in a whisper, scarcely able to repress the excitement with which he was filled. "Or better, perhaps they will send off a large party to join those who have gone to the mountains in search of ourselves, leaving fewer for us to deal with. How many men do you think there are?" "First count de prahus, massa, and den easy tell. Dey carry fifty to eighty on board, and sometimes more. Plenty men dere, massa." At once Tyler and the Chinaman set to work to count the prahus assembled at their moorings, and, thanks to the fact that all had come well round the bend, they had little difficulty at arriving at their correct numbers. "Fifty-four prahus," said Tyler with something approaching a groan, for the odds were desperately against them. "With, say, sixty on board each there will be three thousand of the pirates to deal with, and we are only to be counted as about three hundred. The numbers are dreadfully against us, and were it not for the fact that we hope to take them at a disadvantage, and also that our object is to disappear when they shows signs of collecting together to attack in force, I should feel quite disheartened. But we shall see." "And massa him must keep in him mind dat some of dese men havee gone to de mountains, and dat oders will follow dem. Den we plenty fine numbers to fight them, and de Dyaks show dem dat dey have something to punish dem for. Wait a little bitee, massa. De time comee velly velly soon for de Dyaks to shout and laugh, and for de pirate to run. Li him feel velly sure of dat." The Chinaman gave a knowing nod, and once more turned to the prahus to go over each one again and count them on his fingers, while his slit-like eyes followed the movements of their crews closely as they prepared to leave. "Dey all plenty fine spirit," he said suddenly, as though a thought had occurred to him. "Dey havee returned to deir place wid a velly great ship, and dey feel dat dey am rich. Wait, and massa see dat dey go to deir homes and make jolly. To-night dey dance and sing, and de women come round de watch-fires wid plenty to drink. Den, as de ashes die down, and all am cold and dark, dey creep into de hut and sleep like pig." He looked at his young leader with an encouraging smile, and snored heavily, the better to show his meaning. "To-night am de time for de Dyaks and for massa," he went on earnestly. "Dey creep to dis spot and dey wait and watch. Soon as de fires die down and de men crawl off to deir beds dey cross de river. Dey go to Paddi like de ghosts, and only de night know. Den massa give one little signal, and ebery man of de tribe creep and run dis way and dat into de huts. Take velly little time to kill all of de pirates, and den de Dyaks smile and laugh. Dey go to de prahus, and dey cut de ropes. Den in de morning dey find demselves at sea, and plenty soon sail rightee to Sarawak." Carried away by the thought of the possible victory in store for those in whose company he was, the Chinaman forgot for the moment his accustomed tranquillity. His usually impassive features became wrinkled as he indulged in a smile, while he turned to Tyler with questioning eyes as if to demand his approval. "Can't be done," said the latter curtly, favouring him with a frown. "Englishmen do not fight in that manner, and I would never consent to killing a single one of the pirates while in his sleep. It would be murder, and that I cannot think of. No, I know well that they deserve such a death, for who can say how many poor unhappy people the ruffians have killed in cold blood? Who that does not know all of their doings can tell how many deaths they are responsible for, what miseries they have caused? But men of my country do not make war in such ways. Fight openly, if at all, is our motto, and it is one which I will carry out to the letter. There shall be no massacre, but if necessary we will fight them for the prahus, and do our best to beat them handsomely. As to their being overcome by wine to-night, I hope that that may be the case, for it will help us greatly. We will wait till they are quiet and will then steal upon their boats. If we are cautious and organize the movement well we shall be able to embark all the woman and children and each member of the tribe without making a sound and without alarming the pirates. Then we will cut the cables, as you suggested, and drift down upon the stream till we are in the open sea. After that Sarawak shall be our destination, where these poor Dyaks shall find a home. I shall have more to do then, for at the first opportunity I shall offer to be the guide for an expedition to Paddi, with the object of hunting out these pests and of capturing their leader. But I see that the majority of the crews have already set foot ashore, and soon the prahus will be left to themselves." Once more there was silence between them, the Chinaman lying there in perplexity, wondering at the words which his leader had given vent to. "Not take advantage of the pirates, the men who had harmed the Dyaks so often and so severely, and slay them in their beds!" To this man of the East it was the maddest and strangest of decisions, and his cunning mind, trained to take advantage of an enemy in any manner, failed to grasp its meaning. "Could his young master have suddenly lost his wisdom?" he asked himself. "Was it possible that the sight of all these pirates had brought fear into his heart, so that he refused the only course open to brave men?" For long did Li Sung ponder over the matter till he was bound to confess that he was bewildered. Indeed, a very little consideration had shown him that the Englishman, who alone had attacked the mias, was not the one to be so easily scared, and then, all through the march, it was Tyler who had shown coolness and courage, and whose fine example of cheerfulness and whose bright view of the future had encouraged the tribe of Dyaks, and had converted them from a downtrodden dispirited race to one which was filled with energy and with confidence in themselves. "Li Sung him not see velly fine how you not do as him say," he whispered in tones of perplexity, taking his pigtail in his hand and twisting it into a knot. "If not fall on de pirate when him sleep, and when him heavy wid wine, den dey allee escape and de Dutchman come to worry us again." "When we shall be fully prepared for him," answered Tyler with a smile. "It is useless to suggest such a course as a wholesale massacre, for it is one which I will never consent to. We will beat them fairly and handsomely, and once we join our friends we will throw our lot in with theirs and will help them to exterminate these rascals. But I think that it is almost time that we were moving in the direction of our friends, for if we are to make the attempt to capture their boats to-night we shall have little time to lose. Signal to the other men, Li Sung, and tell them to make ready." "One little minute, massa. De big ship not empty, and Li him tink dat dere someting dere to keep us. De Malays still on board, and dey have shouted for anoder sampan. Perhaps dey bring de bags of gold which dey have captured from de English, and look, massa, me see de name of de ship." He pointed to the stern of the captured vessel, which had swung round with the stream sufficiently to allow the name painted there to be legible, and instantly Tyler read _The Queen_, Liverpool. "English!" he gasped. "Then there is all the more reason why I should take her from these men. But wait. What is happening?" As he spoke, the remaining Malays came running upon deck and went towards the side where the sampan lay, with something in their midst. Arrived at the rail they lifted their burden over and returned to the companion ladder which led to the cabin, only to repeat the same movement. Then two of their number swung themselves into the boat and began to paddle her to the shore. A minute later the little sampan had swung clear of the vessel's side, and was visible to the watchers, who at once gave vent to cries of surprise. "Prisoners!" exclaimed Tyler, starting to his knees and thrusting his head so far between the leaves that Li Sung placed a warning hand upon his arm. "White prisoners, too, and, as I live, they are not men." "The one is little more than a babe, massa," broke in the Chinaman, "while the other is a woman of twenty years." Not daring to move, lest they should attract attention to themselves, and yet filled with eagerness to rush forth and rescue the hapless prisoners who had fallen into the hands of the pirates, Tyler and his followers watched with staring eyes as the sampan was rowed to the shore. They saw a little girl of some seven years of age lifted from the boat, and gazed with saddened faces as she turned with outstretched hand to clasp that of the young woman who accompanied her. Then they watched as the two white and forlorn figures were led into the stockade and were ushered into a hut. "Time to be returning," said Tyler suddenly, and in such determined tones that the Chinaman was startled. "Give the word and let us hurry." Without waiting for his followers he sprang to his feet and went off through the jungle, his brow deeply furrowed and his mind full of the last scene which he had witnessed. CHAPTER XI A Midnight Encounter Six hours and more had passed since Tyler and his little band of Dyak followers had witnessed the passage of the two helpless captives from the English vessel to the pirates' stronghold, and already darkness had fallen over the island of Borneo. The scream of thousands of parrots, the chatter and hoarse voice of many a monkey, had ceased for the night, while the hush of the forest, which but for birds and monkeys would have been almost unbroken during the hot day, had now been replaced by the buzz and hum of myriads of insects, and by the calls and weird cries of other denizens of the jungle whose habit it was to set out during the hours of darkness in search of their food. What were those objects filing in and out between the trees, each so ghost-like and so silent? Were they human beings lost in the jungle, or a collection of wild beasts? Well might the question have been asked, had anyone happened to catch sight of them, for they came without so much as a sound, each one treading noiselessly where the other had been, all bent low as if to escape the overhanging boughs, and everyone with eyes which glared into the depths of the dark forest. Occasionally the weird note of some animal in advance came to their ears, and instantly they lifted their heads for a second, and then changed their direction. In front marched a lithe and active leader, and happening to emerge at that moment from the darkness of the forest the pale rays of a small moon, which had risen early and would soon be gone, fell upon him and showed that it was Tyler. Then these were, after all, human beings, and none other than the tribe of Dyaks who were on their way to Sarawak. Yes, led by our hero, who had returned from the haunt of the pirates, the Dyaks were on their way to the spot before which floated the fleet of prahus upon the possession of which their safety depended. "Remember the orders," said Tyler, as he emerged into the clearing, turning to a swarthy native beside him, whose features bore an unmistakable resemblance to those possessed by John Marshall. "We arrive at the place agreed upon, and the men at once divide as already arranged. Then the leaders of the companies come to me and we discuss the situation. After that we set about the embarkation without delay. Now get back to your own men, for they will miss you." With an involuntary lift of his hand to his head, as was the custom aboard ship, the boatswain turned in obedience to the order, and threaded his way through the trees till he arrived at the rear of the procession, where he sat down till the tribe moved forward again. Meanwhile Tyler stood in the centre of the clearing, waiting till his scouts brought news that no one was at hand. "We can advance in safety again," said Li Sung some minutes later, as a dusky figure crept silently to their side and whispered something in the Chinaman's ear. "De report of de man sent to de front is dat de forest am alone, and dat de pirate shout and makee merry." "Then lead the way again," was Tyler's curt answer, "and let us not stop until we are in position. All this waiting is trying, and I am sure that we shall all be glad when we are in sight of our object." Once more the column of ghost-like figures pushed on into the jungle, and, undismayed by the noise of distant revelry, which soon came to their ears, at length arrived at the spot from which the landing of Hanns Schlott and his men had been watched. And here the tribe settled itself in the undergrowth with such readiness that it was easy to tell that they had been drilled to the movement. "The women and children are together?" asked Tyler of John, as the latter came to his side. "And there are an equal number of men to help them to embark?" "Jest as you said, sir. The poor things is crouching there in the bush, a shiverin' at the noise them pirates is makin' and wondering what'll happen to 'em and their babies. But it'll be all right in the end, for I reckon that we're jest goin' to give that chap Hanns Schlott the slip, and sail right away without his being a penny the wiser. What's next, sir?" "Wait and watch till those fellows are silent and have turned in for the night. Then we will see about the prahus. There should be no delay about that part of the work, for the men have been told off, and they know exactly how many of the vessels we mean to take. You see, as I returned from this spot I thought the whole matter out, and I could see at once that if we were to arrive before the pirate's stronghold without any plans for escape, everything would be muddled in the darkness, and the alarm probably given. As you say, John, we want to get clear away without a suspicion reaching the Dutchman, and we shall feel all the more successful if we contrive that not one of our tribe is overlooked and left behind for the pirates to kill. It was for that reason that I suggested practising the embarkation, and, thanks to that precaution, I think that each and every one knows the work he has to do. Once those fellows go to bed we shall swim across to their sampans, and while some return to this shore, the remainder will lie down and prepare to beat back the enemy should they take the alarm." "And that's my partic'lar part of the job," exclaimed John Marshall quickly. "It's jest the one to suit me, too, for I owe 'em one and hope to repay it." "If they attack, you will give them trouble, no doubt," said Tyler sternly. "But recollect, there must be no noise on any account, and however much you desire to come to blows with these men of the river, you are to avoid doing so on this occasion if you possibly can. Later on, when we have joined in with those of Sarawak, you may have an opportunity. Indeed, I sincerely hope that you will. But for this time silence is essential. And now to go on with our plans; and by the way, John, if I have missed a point be sure to tell me of it. We line the farther shore, and half our numbers return with some of the sampans. The embarkation then commences, and when it is ended, those who can be spared go to the empty prahus and scuttle them, cutting them adrift when the signal is given. When word reaches me that all is ready--" "You'll come to us, and we'll get aboard the sampans and join our friends," whispered John, giving vent to a low chuckle which denoted his pleasure at the prospect. "And then we'll up anchor and away. I guess that the stream'll carry us clear of the banks, and if we do happen to hit up against one, it won't matter so very much, for the mud will do our timbers no harm, and a push with a couple of poles will soon send us off again. Then we'll be in the ocean afore you can turn yer head." "Quite so," replied Tyler calmly; "but before that happens we have another little matter to carry out. You have forgotten the woman and the child, my friend." "But you ain't--" gasped the boatswain, peering into his face as well as the darkness would permit. "You don't mean to say as though you're thinkin' of them. Why--" Evidently the idea of such a project had never entered the sailor's head, and no wonder, considering the magnitude of the task which he and his young leader had set themselves. And now that all was settled, and it almost seemed that they were at the end of their long and arduous journey, something else had cropped up to delay them and endanger their safety. "But what about the tribe? Suppose you get nabbed by that 'ere Hanns!" he said, swinging round upon Tyler as the thought startled him. "It's risking a lot for the sake of two whom yer never did more than set eyes on. Are yer sure yer mean it, sir?" "Quite!" was Tyler's emphatic answer. "We cannot retire from this place and leave them to their fate. The thing is impossible! As for risk, of course there is that, and it will be increased by the attempt to enter the stronghold. But, then, the alarm will not in that case come so early as to ruin all our plans, for the bulk of the tribe will be embarked, and a cut with a sword will set the prahus free. Pursuit on the part of this gang of rascals will be out of the question, as we shall have taken the majority of their vessels, while the remainder will, I hope, be at the bottom of the river. So that we should only have to face the pirates who live below, and I think that we can do that cheerfully." "We'd beat them and more like 'em," exclaimed the boatswain with energy. "But what about yerself? Ain't you runnin' the chance of getting took by the Dutchman? in which case he'd make an end of yer on the spot." "One must expect danger in such cases, and must consider whether the rescue of those poor captives is worth it," responded Tyler calmly. "For my part I should be ashamed to meet James Brooke of Sarawak or the commander of the _Dido_ if I were to leave this spot without making at least an attempt. Why, consider their position, John. Two poor, helpless things at the mercy of these men!" "Ay, and one of 'em's a child, and t'other ain't no more than twenty," murmured the sailor. "You're right, sir, and I oughtn't never to have wanted yer to clear from the river without taking them with yer. Yer couldn't do it, as yer say. Them shipmates what'll be yours as soon as yer reach the _Dido_ wouldn't forgive yer for such a act And how can I help yer?" "By remaining at your post on the farther shore, and by rushing forward if there is trouble. If not, all that you will have to do will be to see the poor things safely on board one of the prahus, and then follow at your best pace. On the other hand, if I am discovered, and the pirates rush down in force, you and your men will have to take to the river and leave me to myself. After all, the safety of the whole tribe must not be endangered for the life of one man." "It all depends on who he is," was John's dogged reply. "If jest one of themselves, p'r'aps not. If their leader, the chap as come along to save 'em in the first place from these here fellers, the one what's led 'em all this distance, why, I tell yer that they won't move till you're dead or with 'em. But it ain't coming to that, sir. You'll manage to rescue them two without giving so much as a sound, and we'll all find ourselves in Sarawak afore we can think it possible. We've everything jest cut and dried, and as soon as them 'ere fellers'll clear off to bed we'll set to at the job." Having come to a decision on the matter, and settled every point which occurred to them, the two lay silently upon the bank, their eyes fixed upon the blazing fires beyond, and upon the outline of the stockade which stood out clearly against the dark background of the forest. That the Malays, and their friends the sea Dyaks, were making merry was very evident, for they lay about the blazing logs in great numbers, while the women tended to their wants. As for the Dutchman, the night was too hot to allow of his eating in comfort within the large shed which he occupied when at the stronghold, and instead, he sat at a roughly-improvised table, composed of a large packing-case, which was placed before his door. Before him burnt a bright fire, while several of the native women hung about him, bringing food and wine to his board. So clearly, indeed, was he outlined by the light that it might have been possible to pick him off with a rifle, and Tyler even lifted his weapon to his shoulder. An instant later, however, he had dropped it with an exclamation of disgust, and once more contented himself with watching the Dutchman. "It would be like murdering the lot in their beds," he said to himself, "just the thing that would appeal to men of his class and to fellows like Li Sung, who know no better and who are brought up to that way of killing their enemies. But to an Englishman it is impossible, and besides, the shot might and might not be successful, while it would certainly give the alarm and bring a hundred and more of the pirates rushing across in this direction. Ah, there is food going to the prisoners! So that it is clear that they are to be well treated for the time being. I will watch what is happening." As he spoke, two women advanced across the open space which was enclosed by the bamboo stockade, and, arriving at the tiny hut which harboured the captives, entered with a platter of food and a gourd of water. Ten minutes later they emerged again, dragging the woman with them, while the child followed behind, weeping bitterly at the scene. "Brutes!" thought Tyler; "but I am sure that the captives' lives are not threatened, for otherwise they would not have fed them. Ah, they are being taken to the Dutchman!" Directing their steps to the spot where Hanns Schlott sat, the native women dragged their captive up to his table and forced her to seat herself upon a box close at hand; then they stood beside her while the leader of the pirates spoke with her, and amused himself at the obvious terror under which she laboured. As for the child, she clung to her white companion, and stood looking at the man who had suddenly come so prominently into her life as if he were a monster, as indeed he was. "The Dutchman is jeering at them, that is evident," said Tyler to himself, as he looked on at the distant scene. "I only wish that I was beside him to hear what he was saying, so that I could punish him later on. One would have thought that any man would have taken pity upon those poor things, but he is a hardened villain, and I really believe that they would receive better treatment from the natives. Now he is sending them back, and let us hope that very soon he and his followers will take themselves off to their beds." For three hours in succession did our hero and his followers lie in the jungle with their eyes glued upon the distant lair of the pirates. Indeed it seemed as though Hanns Schlott and his men had made up their minds to sit the hours of darkness out, and to indulge in revelry till morning came, for they made no movement to go to their huts, and instead remained grouped about the fires. "Supposing they stayed there till daylight came? What if they never went to their beds, but as soon as morning was come jumped into their sampans and entered the forest in search of fruit or some other food." Tyler asked himself the questions, and sat bolt upright as he puzzled for an answer. Then he sank back into his old position with an air of resignation. "Then they must look to themselves," he said to himself. "If they come this way they will certainly discover us, and we shall have to fight for our lives. But it occurs to me that they would be taken by surprise, and that they might easily think that we were another lot of pirates attacking them, and not the fugitives whom they are hoping to waylay on their journey to Sarawak. That being the case we must take a bold course, and I shall at once make for the prahus. All the men and many of the women and children can swim as well as they can walk, and we will dive into the river without delay. A few minutes should see us masters of the fleet of prahus, and little time would be taken in embarking the remainder of our party. Then we would sail for the sea, and trust to our men to beat off any who might follow. Yes, now that I come to think of the matter I am sure that a bold course will pay us best, though, if possible, we will get away without discovery; for their numbers are very large, while ours are small. Then again, by putting off the attack we shall be able perhaps to return on a later date, and with a European force, when I feel sure that the days of the pirates will be ended. But Hanns is moving. The rascal is going to talk with his men." Rising from the rough table at which he had eaten, the Dutchman walked across the clearing and entered into conversation with his men. Evidently he had something pleasant to propose, for they all sprang to their feet and set up a shout of joy. Then some of their number raced off to a certain portion of the stronghold, and returned very shortly with enormous jars upon their shoulders. "Drink to our success!" shouted Hanns Schlott, motioning to all to help themselves. "Drink death to the hated Englishmen who have escaped us so far, and a quick end to all who may try to oppose us in the open sea. We are the only men in and about Borneo, and I am the only leader who can bring you fortune and much gold. Fill up, then, and drink to the future." Waiting till all had filled the rough gourds which did duty for mugs, the Dutchman lifted his glass to his lips and drained it at a draught. Then he repeated the process with a swaggering air, and having done so strolled off to his seat once more. "Now enjoy yourselves!" he shouted out as he retired. "There is wine in plenty, so do not spare it, for the English ship has a big store to replace what you may happen to use. Drink, then, and dance, for now you have the time, while to-morrow you will be marching through the jungle on the way to catch the white-faces, and those who were foolish enough to throw in their lot with them. For myself, I have much to think of, for remember, your safety, your success depend upon me. And therefore I will retire at once, leaving you to follow at your wish." With a lordly wave of the hand he went to his hut and disappeared within, leaving his men to themselves. Nor were they slow in following his advice as to making merry, for up to now they had but lain basking in the heat of the numerous fires which blazed in the clearing. Now, however, stimulated by the extra allowance of wine, and by the thought that there was more to follow, they leapt to their feet and began to dance in circles, while their womenfolk beat time upon the ground with their hands. And when one lot of natives were exhausted, and had thrown themselves upon the earth beside the fires, to lie there panting till refreshment was brought them, others sprang to take their places, and the mad dance was carried on. Strange, indeed, was the sight, and for long did Tyler and his men look on, though to John Marshall and to his leader it was one which they had never witnessed before. As if fascinated they watched as the pirates flung their limbs into the air and swung their arms aloft, while they wondered how long they would be able to continue, and where came the pleasure of such rapid movement. Then each one began to observe that less energy was displayed, while some of the dancers had entirely given in, and lay as if asleep upon the ground. "The drink telling," whispered John Marshall. "Them chaps'll be asleep afore very long, and then it'll be our turn to play the tune. I reckon it's getting towards morning, too; so the sooner they go off the better it'll be. How long will yer give 'em to settle, sir?" "No more than half an hour. By then the majority will be asleep, and we shall only have the women to fear. Besides, the first part of our work should be carried out noiselessly, while the tribe should be embarked without giving any alarm. It is during the last part, when I attempt to enter the stronghold, that we shall have to be most cautious, and it is then that we can expect trouble." "A fig for the trouble, sir!" cried John Marshall, snapping his fingers. "Them fellers is too much overcome already to be able to do much fighting, and if it comes to hand-grips with them, why, I reckon I know who'll get the best of the scuffle. Don't you worry, Mr. Richardson, for if they drop upon you when you're inside, me and the men with me will rush in and bring you out. Hist! Didn't I hear something over there? Listen and see if you can't make it out." At once he became rigid in every limb, while his eyes seemed to start from their sockets. Then he stretched across to where Tyler was crouching, and taking him by the arm, directed his attention to the second of the two booms, which guarded the other river at the point where it flowed into the main channel of the Sarebus. "Someone moving there," said our hero decidedly. "A boat, I think, though it is so dark in that direction that one cannot distinguish anything. There! I heard a splash as if a sampan had been dropped into the water, or an anchor had been let go. Hush!" "And them's voices," came from the boatswain in the lowest of whispers. "You can hear 'em coming over the water as plain as if they was alongside of this very spot. What'll it be? Pirates come to have a fight with these here fellers? or friends?" "Dey friends, I tink," said a voice at their side, causing Tyler and his companion to give a start of surprise. "Li Sung and de Dyak hear dem plenty time ago as dey float down de oder river, and from de very first we tink dat dey de men who am sent to de mountains to meet us. P'r'aps not, but me feel velly certain." "Then they must have had some reason for returning," exclaimed Tyler anxiously, "for, no doubt, their orders were strictly to the effect that they were to lie in wait till we came along, and then send news to the stronghold, while they followed our tracks. This is serious, for it proves that they know more than we gave them credit for. Can they have already discovered that we have made directly in this line with the intention of falling upon their ships? Or do they imagine, because they have not seen us near the mountain range, that we have turned back and abandoned the journey?" "Me cannot say, but me velly sure dem am de ones de Dutchman send off to de mountain," repeated the Chinaman with an emphatic wag of his head. "But keep little silence and velly soon we hear, for dey go into de stockade and speak to deir friends." Conscious that they could do nothing for the present, for as yet the revellers still lounged before their fires, and a sudden dash upon the ships would have been doomed to failure, Tyler and his friends crouched in the jungle, fretting at the delay, chafing at the thought that even now something might have occurred to upset all their carefully-prepared plans, and with minds filled with anxious forebodings. And behind them, in every attitude, crouched the remainder of their followers, a prey for the most part to vague fears, which, in spite of their new spirit and of the fact that they had a trusted leader, would assail them however much they fought to be brave. Would these men, these new-comers, join with their brothers and spend the night in revelry, or would they go to their huts at once and rest after an arduous march? The questions troubled Tyler considerably, and think as he would he could find no solution, for as yet it was not even certain that the men who manned the vessel which had just brought-to against the farther boom, and whose voices had been heard across the water, were those who had been sent to the mountains to waylay the Englishman and his Dyak followers. Perhaps they would turn out to be friends on a visit to the pirates. Then did these rovers of the river and sea possess any who could be called by that name? Could any of their neighbours trust them sufficiently, or be trusted by the Dutchman and his men? "It is out of the question," said Tyler to himself. "If these fellows were on a visit they would send someone ahead to announce their coming, for otherwise it is more likely that a bullet or the contents of one of those brass cannon which are mounted on the stockade would greet them. It is clear that they belong to Hanns Schlott and his gang, and that being the case I shall be astonished if they do not prove to be the ones sent to capture us or to gain tidings of our approach. But if so, why have they returned?" With head firmly held between his hands he endeavoured to think the matter out and come to a satisfactory conclusion. Then with a gesture of disgust he put it aside, and, uncovering his eyes, again stared in the direction of the second river. "The future must tell," he whispered in John's ear. "We will wait patiently, and should it turn out that these men are from the mountains, and know of our presence near at hand, we will at once set about the capture of the prahus and the embarkation of the tribe. That done we shall be able to sail away to the sea, where we can laugh at them. At least, you and the others will be able to do so." "And what about yerself, sir?" demanded John Marshall with a start, turning upon him suddenly and peering anxiously into his face. "Ain't you a-coming? Do yer mean to say that after all you've gone through you mean to get left behind? I reckon it would be murder. It's suicide, and nothing else." He gave vent to an indignant snort, and lay there staring into the darkness in the direction of the new-comers, as if he could not trust himself to look any longer at his leader. A moment later, however, he had swung his head round again and had grasped Tyler by the wrist. "What's the game?" he demanded roughly, and in a curiously hoarse whisper. "Still thinkin' of the kid and her nurse? What are yer after?" "I'm considering their case," was Tyler's cool answer. "I have put myself in their position and asked myself whether I should like to be deserted under the circumstances. Then I have imagined that I am someone else, who is the leader on this occasion, and I have wondered what he'd do in such a case." "Do! He'd clear with a whole skin as a general rule!" "And what action would you take, John, if you were in my shoes? Imagine that for a few seconds, and recollect that as the leader you would be responsible for the safety of each and every member before you thought of a haven for yourself. The child and the woman, who, I suppose, is her nurse, are there. We saw them put into the hut, and we have already made them part of our following. Would you desert them and leave them in the clutches of that tiger?" It was Tyler's turn now to face his companion in the darkness, and address him as though he had a grievance. It was he who now spoke curtly and with roughness. Placing his lips close to the sailor's ear he spoke sternly and shortly, in such determined tones that John Marshall was amazed and astounded. "Well?" Tyler demanded curtly again of the boatswain. "You are the leader for the moment; will you clear from the spot and save your own miserable skin, or will you hang back for the sake of the child and the woman?" There was a long pause ere the silence was broken between them, and all the while John Marshall stared across at the blazing fires and at the figures of the pirates lying about them. He heard as if in a dream the sounds made by those who had lately put in an appearance, and watched listlessly for their appearance in the stockade. But he was thinking of someone else. In his mind's eye he pictured the child of seven, and the woman, the only survivors of those who had been aboard the English ship, and he remembered that they were of his own country, strangers, and helpless strangers at that, in a foreign country, without friends to help them, unless he and his bold young leader went to the rescue, and took them from the clutches of Hanns and his men. What if he, John Marshall, of the mercantile marine, who prided himself upon the fact of being a British sailor and a man, together with his friend, Tyler Richardson, had failed to catch sight of the prisoners? What if, knowing them to be so close at hand, they deserted them and left them to their fate? The boatswain almost started to his feet as this new side of the question occurred to him; but a moment later he was lying down again, with his face close to Tyler's. "We'd be thunderin' curs!" he blurted out with a curious catch in his breath. "You and me stands alone between them two and a life of misery. And I was for making off with me tail between me legs! Bah. John Marshall, you ain't half the chap you think!" His disgust was so great that the better to express it he would have brought his fist violently against the ground had not discretion suddenly arrested his arm in the midst of the movement. "Might wake 'em up over there," he said, as if to himself. "We can't afford to be doin' that, for we've got to rescue the kid and the woman. What's the idea, sir?" "There is no idea as yet, John. All depends upon the pirates and their friends who have lately arrived. If they settle down for the night we shall be able to go on with the original programme. If not, then we must see what can be done. But I will take all away or remain myself. Supposing it is possible to embark the tribe, but we cannot get at the captives, then I propose to remain behind in the forest, and try on another occasion, or while they are absent in pursuit But, steady! Something is occurring over there, and we had better listen." Becoming silent at once they leaned as far towards the bank of the river as the undergrowth would permit, and watched the spot where the prahu had moored beside the boom. Thanks to the fires which blazed in the central portion of the stockade, they were soon able to make out her sails and her exact position, and even imagined that they could observe the crew who still remained on board. Some minutes later there was a movement amongst the latter, who disappeared from sight, only to reappear within a short space of time at the entrance to the stockade. And here they found nothing to prevent their moving forward, for no enemies were expected, and, safe in the thought that they were too powerful to fear a sudden attack, the pirates had neglected, as was their wont, to close the gap which led through the timbers of the stockade. With a shout some eighty men ran forward to the fires, and at once mingled with their comrades. "The gate is open. You observe that?" whispered Tyler in accents of delight "If they do not trouble to close it I shall have little difficulty in entering where those men went, and in bringing the captives out by the same way. What is going to happen now?" "They have news, sir, and that's what's troubling 'em. I reckon they'll soon bring the Dutchman out of his bed." That something out of the ordinary had occurred was very obvious, for whereas those of the pirates who had been lounging about the fires had at first greeted their comrades who had just arrived with nonchalance and with a few questions as to their success and as to the cause which had brought about their return, now they had all endeavoured to leap to their feet, and had set up a babel of shouts. Some, however, had indulged in the wine which their leader had given them to such an extent that they were beyond caring, and lay as still as logs. But many were not so stupefied that they could not realize that something out of the ordinary had happened, and crowding about their brothers they gave vent to shouts which were louder and more angry on account of their condition. "We took it for granted that you had killed them all, that you were amongst us again with a tale to tell," cried one of them plaintively. "And now you come amongst us at a time when we are tired out with our day of work, and when we are about to sleep, and fill our ears with news which should make us feel alarm. Surely you are mistaken. You have allowed yourselves to be misled, for it is madness to imagine that those white fools would dare to come this way." "There is no madness about it so far as we can see," was the answer of the one who had been the leader of the returned party. "What is more natural than that these men should take the most direct line? for otherwise, by going by way of the mountains, they would increase the length of their journey by a great deal, a matter of much importance when we have news that women and children accompany them. Then again, by making for the river they run the chance of obtaining boats; and remember, my comrade, to desperate men the idea of capturing prahus from the very people whom they have to fear is not an impossibility." "Run away with our prahus! Take them from beneath our very noses! Why, what can you have been doing? Surely you and those who went with you have come upon a store of wine like ourselves, and have indulged so freely that your minds are disturbed. Capture our fleet indeed! A beggarly handful of starving Dyaks, with women and children to feed and protect, and a couple of white-faces to lead them. The idea is laughable!" The man shouted the words at his companion, and then turned to his comrades with a disdainful laugh and a half-drunken grimace which set them roaring. "He will say soon that we are in danger," broke in another, pushing his way to the front, "and he will bid us fly to our wives to beg protection from them. Quickly let me find my way to my own particular hut, where dwells a woman who works hard all through the day, and has gained thereby such strength that she will be able to beat off all whom the white-faces may send." He staggered away through the crowd, who stepped aside with many a guffaw and roar of laughter, and went towards one of the huts near by. As for his comrades, they enjoyed the joke immensely. It suited their mood to a nicety, and, determined to make the most of it and enjoy themselves to the full, they again crowded about the new-comers and plied them with questions. "Shall we run now? And where can we go?" demanded one of them, making pretence to be full of terror. "Do you say that we ourselves should get aboard the fleet at once, dragging with us those who lie insensible about the fires, and sail for the sea? There is much of the ocean outside, and there we might even manage to escape these dangerous men!" "And then, when they had in their largeness of heart decided to be merciful, and had retired from this spot, we might even venture to return to our homes," said the one who had first spoken, giving vent to a sneer. "But come, my friends, admit that this is madness, or we shall quarrel. Say that you are in error, and join us in our jollity." "We will do neither," was the indignant reply. "Here are we, returned after much trouble and full of weariness, and you jeer at us and tell us that we are fools. Were it not that you are our brothers we would chastise you as you deserve." The threat, to men in the excited condition of the pirates, who had been lying about the fires and drinking the Dutchman's wine, was one which could not be easily passed over, and besides, all belonged to a race accustomed to bloodshed, and ready at any moment to resent an insult or to repay a wrong with violence. Hardly, therefore, had the words left the lips of the speaker than the two parties were on the verge of a conflict. Glaring at one another as though they were the worst of enemies, each member of the piratical gang seized the kriss which was thrust in his waist-cloth and flashed it in the firelight. A little more and angry words would have led to bloodshed had not an interruption occurred. Fortunately for the gang, the noise of the altercation had come to the Dutchman's ears, and just as blows were about to be exchanged he came from his hut, looking dishevelled and as though he had but just risen from his bed, as was the case. In an instant he realized what was about to happen, and rushing forward with an angry shout he threw himself upon the men, buffeting them, and kicking those within reach of his foot unmercifully. "Dogs!" he shouted wrathfully. "Have I not told you often and often that there is to be no quarrelling, that you are to do no fighting except at my bidding? Put your weapons away, then, or some of you shall be shot as the dawn breaks. And now what is the trouble? What has caused you all to lose your tempers? Ah, I see that those who were sent to the mountains have returned! Then you have good news. You have come up with this tribe of runaways, and have killed them. Where are the heads of those white men?" He started back in his astonishment when the leader of the party told him that he and his companions had failed to discover the tribe under Tyler's command, but that they had ascertained that they were making direct for the very river where Hanns Schlott and his gang had their head-quarters, perhaps with the intention of attacking. "We tracked them to within a very few miles," said the man, "and they may even now be lying near at hand about to fall upon us. For that reason we returned here at once and gave our warning to these men. But they are fools, or rather their brains are dulled with the wine which they have been drinking." "And you will tell me that this white man and his tribe will attack us here?" said Hanns Schlott suddenly, breaking into a derisive laugh. "Go to your beds, men. It is clear that you are tired, or you would realize that sane men do not put their heads into the open mouth of a lion; you would see that attack from a puny force of three hundred at the most is not to be feared by one which numbers more than three thousand. Get to your huts, for a sleep will do you good. As for you other drunken dogs, it is time that you, too, retired. To your couches, then, and let us pass the remainder of the night in peace." Without a second look in their direction he strode off to his own abode, while his followers obeyed his orders like beaten curs, showing that they held their Dutch leader in great fear. Soon the clearing was deserted, and but for the fires, which were fast burning down, and for one or two unconscious figures beside them, the stockade was deserted, all having retired to their huts. "And now comes the time for us," said Tyler in a voice which trembled, so greatly was he excited. "Li Sung, you can go back to your men now that you have told me all that went on over there, and you can send the signal round. In three minutes the first company will be at the edge of the water." Gathering up his pigtail, the Chinaman slunk off into the darkness, and ere long some fifty dusky and silent figures were creeping to the bank of the Sarebus. A low hoot sounded in the night, and at the signal the Dyak warriors, with Tyler and John Marshall at their head, lay flat upon their faces and crept forward into the water. There was no wading, for that would undoubtedly have given rise to much splashing. Instead, each one immersed his body at once, and creeping along through the mud was quickly in deep water. Then, breasting the stream, they turned to the shelving bank above which was erected the bamboo stockade enclosing the huts of the pirate gang. CHAPTER XII Captain of a Fleet "Halt!" The whispered word of command to which Tyler gave vent once he and his followers had set foot upon the opposite bank was scarcely necessary, so well did each man understand his duties, and so sensibly did they act. But Li Sung interpreted the order, and instantly some fifty dripping figures came to a stand-still and dropped full length upon the mud. "Advance those who have to keep watch and beat back the enemy," said Tyler, with difficulty keeping calm. "John, that is your command. Post the men so as to hold the entrance, and look out for me when I come. Now for the boat party." Leading half the company to the left, he took them to the spot where the sampans were drawn up on the beach, and stood by while the men carried the tiny boats down into the water. Then, as silently as ghosts, they pushed off from the bank, half the number making direct for the opposite shore, while the remainder drifted down-stream to the prahus. "Commence to embark the women and children and the remaining men," said Tyler, as soon as the party which he had accompanied had reached the opposite bank. "Let there be no crushing or pushing. Each will come down in turn and be rowed to the prahus. Men last of all, as a general rule; only, as soon as one of the vessels is filled, the crew will be put on board, so as to be prepared to manoeuvre it should the alarm be given. Quickly, please, for the morning is dangerously near at hand." Standing beside the spot where the sampans had been drawn up, he watched as the Dyak women and children embarked, enjoining strict silence upon all of them. But they had been well drilled to the movement, and, thanks to that, they all passed swiftly and without confusion from their hiding-place in the jungle above to the sampans, and in the latter to the prahu selected for them. Once a certain number were on board, the sampans returned for a crew of men, and thus in an incredibly short space of time all but the half-company watching beside the stockade, and those who had gone amongst the fleet of prahus, were safely on board awaiting the order to let go. But there was still something else to do, and all watched anxiously as they realized that the stockade was to be entered, and that the figure of a man crawling across the firelit clearing would be that of their leader. "Now for the two captives," said Tyler in matter-of-fact tones, when the embarkation had been carried out to his satisfaction. "I feel satisfied now that the larger proportion of the tribe will make good its escape, for they are on board, and even if the alarm be given now, they are safe from Hanns Schlott and his friends. Even at this moment I think I see some of the prahus sinking, and certainly more than one has been cut from its moorings and is floating away upon the river, and gradually getting lower. That being the case, the Dutchman and his friends will have to swim after us if they discover our trick, for we shall leave nothing. And now for the captives." For a few moments he stood up in the sampan, while Li Sung went ashore with some of the Dyaks and hunted carefully through the jungle near at hand, lest by chance some child should have been overlooked, or one of the women, tired out by the long journey which she had borne so well, and by this long night of anxious watching and waiting, should have fallen asleep and remained behind, forgetful of the fact that her sisters were embarking. "That is well," he said in tones of satisfaction, when the Chinaman had returned with the report that not a soul was to be seen, and that the jungle was untenanted. "We can now see to the other matter. Li, you will come with me to the other shore, while the men here who have managed the embarkation will ferry their boats after us, and will lie off the bank prepared to come in close and take the remainder of the party off. Tell them that they are to leave an interval between each sampan, so as to have plenty of room in case of having to beat a rapid retreat, and that they are on no account to retire till all their comrades have joined them. Take the oars now, and let us push over." He gave the words of command in a calm voice, which betrayed no sign of excitement or of confusion, but for all that Tyler could scarcely keep his limbs from trembling, while his lips twitched spasmodically and he was obliged to press them close together to keep them still; for the thought of those helpless captives stirred him strangely, the fear that their fate depended upon himself, and that upon his courage and discretion their rescue or continued imprisonment would result, kept his mind ill at ease and filled him with a feeling of nervousness to which he had up to this been a stranger. "It must be done," he kept saying to himself as he was being wafted to the opposite shore, "and after all, why should I not be successful? for the part which has already been carried out so silently has been far larger and more full of difficulties, and yet see how smoothly it has worked. Yes, I will rescue those two helpless prisoners whatever happens." With this resolution before him he became calmer and more at his ease, and prepared to set about the task in a manner which at once showed that he was full of courage and determination. "Stand ready to embark rapidly," he said, as he crept to John Marshall and lay down beside him in the darkness. "If you hear me shout you will know that I require help, but otherwise you are not to come nearer to the stockade. Now I am going, but before I go I will remind you that this company will embark on the English vessel which the pirates towed in. Men have already made a small prahu fast to her bows, and once the signal is given, and we are aboard, they will cut the cables and swing her round. After that she will be carried down by the stream." "And it won't be long afore we get some of her canvas up," whispered the sailor. "Then if this here Dutchman and his men come after us, or any of them coves down the river attempt to stop us, why, we shall be able to tackle 'em in proper style. Now, sir, be careful, please, for you're our leader. Jest think of that, for these here Dyaks jest think a deal of yer and would be sorry if yer came to harm. There's me, too, you must remember"--and the honest fellow felt for Tyler's hand and gripped it firmly,--"what would I do to get on without yer? But you'll take the best of care, that I'm sure of, and you'll carry this through like the rest. If yer shout I'll be there in a twinkling, and if yer should happen to come up with that Dutch chap, jest think of how I downed him. Put yer fist in his face, and it'll silence him sooner than anything. Good-bye, and good luck!" With another squeeze of the hand he released Tyler, the latter springing to his feet at once. "Then all is settled," he said quietly. "If I shout, you come to help; if not, you remain here or embark at once. My orders are that the safety of the tribe is not on any account to be risked on my behalf." A second later, when the sailor would have spoken to his leader, he was astonished to find that he had gone, and that his place was occupied by thinnest air. It gave him a start when he considered with what silence Tyler had gone, but a moment's reflection reminded him of the fact that his leader was dressed in native costume, and that he wore soft sandals upon his feet. "All the better," murmured John Marshall, "for it'll make his chances brighter. I don't half like this game of his, and never did, though I see that he's right in making the attempt. But it's risky. It's the worst part of all this little adventure, and I shall be thankful when I see him safe amongst us again. Ah! there he goes through the entrance, and it will be well for him to hurry, for a few minutes ago the stockade was out of sight, while now one can see it fairly easily, showing that morning is coming." That this was the case became evident to all the watchers, for as they lay there on the bank their figures up to this had been invisible to one another, while now a keen searcher of the spot would have discovered them to a certainty had he been within close range of them. Indeed the night seemed to have gone quite suddenly, while a damp mist, which often precedes the morn in Borneo, lay over river and land, wrapping them in semi-obscurity. "In ten minutes it will go, de sun will suck up de water from de air, and all will be bright," whispered Li Sung, who had thrown himself down beside John Marshall. "When massa comes, and we get aboard, de pirate see us sailing away, and dey get velly angry at de sight. He, he, he! De Dutchman him rave velly fine, and say many tings, but him not be able to follow, for he no havee ships." The Chinaman again indulged in a half-audible chuckle, which caused the sailor to stretch out his hand and grip him by the shoulder. "Silence," he said sternly, "and listen! Laugh and cackle as much as you wish when the master is with us again, but make a sound now and I'll--" Exactly what the boatswain would have threatened to do to the faithful Chinaman it would be difficult to state, though his wrinkled forehead and the scowl upon his face might have indicated something terrible. However, a sound within the stockade suddenly arrested the altercation, and both lay there listening eagerly. Creak! creak! Was it the door of the hut in which the prisoners were kept, or could some native have suddenly awakened before the dawn had come, as was so often their custom, and thrown wide the gate of his humble abode? Both longed to clear up the question, but found it impossible, for from the position which they had taken up they were unable to command a view of the whole of the clearing within the stockade. Those on the prahus, however, could have enlightened them, for from the river the dull glare of the embers of the dying fires, the bamboo stockade, and every hut within were distinctly within view, while the dusky figure crawling across to that part where the captives had been taken was plainly discernible. With straining eyes each one of the Dyak tribe aboard the prahus watched the young leader whom they had come to look up to and admire. They saw him creep rapidly, but with every caution, through the entrance to the stockade and then across the clearing. As they stared at him through the misty haze, which was gradually and insensibly giving place to the light of day, they noted how he paused before the hut occupied by the rascally Dutch leader of the pirates, and each wondered with beating heart whether any sound had alarmed him. Creak! creak! Ah! they, too, heard the noise of a wicket thrown open, and started at the sound. Then they stood there on the sloping decks listening for a shout, for a pistol-shot, for the roar of a hundred and more voices to tell them that the young Englishman had been discovered. But no, not another sound disturbed the silence of the awakening day, and the dusky figure was seen to be advancing again. Ah, he was at the hut where the prisoners were kept! Was he entering? Why did he pause at the door, and for what reason did he so hurriedly dart behind the dwelling? Well might each member of the watching tribe of Dyaks ask the question, for the movements of their leader seemed unaccountable. But Tyler knew well what he was doing, and sounds which failed to spread so far as the men lying on the bank without the stockade, or those others waiting aboard the prahus, reached his ears distinctly. "There is someone moving," he said to himself, as he reached the hut which harboured the prisoners. "Who can it be? Perhaps some fellow turning in his couch." Sitting up as high as possible, he listened eagerly, and then crept on a few paces. Then of a sudden he became aware of the fact that a door had been thrown open, and realizing that the sound came from the Dutchman's hut, he scrambled hastily behind the one close to which he was crouching. "Hanns Schlott!" he exclaimed in tones of vexation. "His guilty mind will not allow him to sleep, and so he has come out to walk about the clearing. Ah, I have had my mind so fully occupied that I did not notice that it is already getting light, and he will be able to see me! Yes, even now I can observe his figure." Staring through the mist and haze, which had so suddenly risen, Tyler watched the Dutchman emerge from his abode and stalk out into the clearing. Then, realizing with a start that to delay would be more dangerous than to proceed with the rescue, he waited for a few moments to allow a second hut to come between himself and the Dutchman, and then scrambled at his fastest pace to the door which would give access to the dwelling within which were the prisoners. A second later he had thrust it in, and was crawling through the opening. "Who is that?" he heard someone demand in frightened tones, while there was the sound of a shriek commenced but suddenly arrested. "Oh, what is happening to us?" "Hush! Do not make a sound for your lives," answered Tyler in low tones, crawling right into the hut and closing the door. "Do not be frightened, for I have come to help you and take you away." "Then you are English? But I caught sight of a native, and that is what frightened me. Who are you?" The question was asked in a whisper, while the young woman leant forward till she was close to Tyler, for his voice had reassured her. "It is too long a story to tell you, but I have come to rescue you and the little girl. Follow me at once, please, and do exactly as I say. Now, to the door!" Waiting only to see that they had risen, and that the young woman had whispered reassuring words to the child, and had cautioned her against making a sound, Tyler went to the door and gently opened it. "We shall have day with us in a few moments," he said, turning swiftly and with an involuntary exclamation of dismay. "Now, listen to me. We have captured the English ship from the pirates, and have also taken the prahus. My men are Dyaks, and they will be your friends. You must follow me at once, keeping well behind the huts. When we get to the opening through the stockade we will run. Do you understand? Then follow." Glancing swiftly around, and failing to catch sight of Hanns Schlott, Tyler led the way into the clearing, and then, stealing along through the mist, he directed the prisoners amongst the huts so as to keep them out of sight. Very soon they came to a point where the dwellings ended, and where nothing but open ground stretched between the fugitives and the stockade. And here they came to an abrupt halt, while a feeling of dismay came over them; for there in the opening stood the burly figure of Hanns Schlott, his face turned to the river, while he stared into the mist as if something had occurred to awaken his suspicions. "Strange!" he was murmuring; "is it the wine which I drank last night, or can it be the thought of that beggarly Englishman, by name Tyler Richardson, who threatened to follow me and see me hanged as a murderer? Tush! My eyes are playing me a trick, and I am out of sorts." He stamped upon the ground in his vexation, and turned from the river for a moment. But again his eyes went back in that direction as if he were fascinated, while on this occasion he started forward, and, sheltering his eyes with his hand, stared into the cloud of watery vapour with an eagerness which showed that he was still ill at ease. "Surely that is strange!" he said in hesitating tones. "Of course the mist is thickest over the water, but the prahus are outlined in it, though dimly, I admit. But how comes it that the ship which we captured is turned with stern this way, and her bows pointing to the sea? It is beyond my comprehension, for the tide does not make this way for three hours at least. And--am I really bewildered this morning and muddled by the wine?--half the fleet seems to have disappeared!" He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, and, tearing his hat from his head, thrust his fingers through his hair. Then once more he fixed his attention on the river, and stood there as if undecided still, and as though hesitating how to act. Meanwhile Tyler and his charges had watched him with feelings approaching dismay. "We cannot possibly afford to wait more than three or four minutes," said the former, "and if he does not move then, we must rush past him. But I do not like to see him staring so hard at the river, for it seems to me that he suspects something, and I know that whatever he thinks at the moment he will soon realize what is happening once the sun clears the mist away. Get ready, miss, and if you see me start forward at a walk, be prepared to rush after me and go straight through the opening. I will see to that fellow." The seconds seemed to be minutes, so slowly did they pass, and though Tyler only permitted some three of the latter to elapse before making a move, almost half an hour seemed to have been occupied in watching the burly Dutchman. Indeed, now that he had come so close to success in the undertaking which he had set himself, the fear that, after all, he would be beaten, that Hanns Schlott would cut off his retreat and retain his prisoners, filled Tyler's mind with apprehension and anxiety, and those few minutes seemed almost a lifetime. And all the while the Dutchman stood as if rooted to the spot, still unable to make up his feeble mind as to what was happening, and hesitating to awake his followers at this early hour and bring them rushing forth on a fool's errand, which would cause them to grumble and laugh at their leader. Suddenly, as he turned to the collection of huts behind him, his eye fell upon the figure of a swarthy Dyak, with sandalled feet, who was advancing towards him, and taking him for one of his own men he called eagerly to him. "Come here and tell me what you see," he said in commanding tones. "My sight is not very certain in these early morning mists, and often plays me false. Say, are the prahus still at their moorings, and why is it that the vessel which we captured has her head turned to the sea?" He was in the act of turning once more to the river, to direct the gaze of the native who had advanced towards him, when another doubt, something unusual about the man, seemed to strike him, and he swung round, to face Tyler with a start of surprise. "Sandals!" he gasped. "Sopping waist-cloth, and--and colour which runs in streaks down the body and leaves white beneath!" Like a flash he recognized who this native must be, and stood there staring at him as though the discovery stifled him, as though the boldness of the Englishman took his breath away. Then, quick as lightning, a thought, a horrible dread, came over him. "Had the Englishman come to the stockade with others of his country? Was that the reason of the disappearance of some of the prahus? And had this man, this youth whom he had openly called a cub, but whom in his heart he feared not a little, and whose persistence had amazed him, had this Tyler Richardson tracked him to this spot, and by some uncanny means induced him, the leader of this gang of pirates, to emerge from his hut at that early hour in the morning and walk alone, like a helpless fly, into the web which had been woven to catch him?" The thought sent the blood surging to his face, only to recede in an instant and leave him deadly pale. He gasped, threw back his head to take in a much-needed breath, and would have set the air ringing with a shriek of dismay had not Tyler suddenly stopped him. Instantly realizing that he had been recognized, and that his disguise was discovered, he threw himself upon the Dutchman like a hound, and, mindful of the advice which John Marshall had given him just before they had parted, dealt Hanns Schlott a terrific blow between the eyes. "For you!" he shouted, throwing silence and caution to the winds in his excitement as he delivered the blow. "That to show you that a Dutchman cannot stop an Englishman!" Had he been struck by a hammer Hanns Schlott could not have been more staggered, or thrown off his balance. Indeed, the suddenness and the unexpected nature of the attack, and the force with which the fist crashed upon his face, had combined to send him to the ground, and but for the fact that the edge of the stockade happened to be close at hand he would have gone upon his back in the clearing, just as he had on a former occasion fallen crash to the floor of the schooner's cabin before the fist of John Marshall. Instead, however, his bulky figure was driven heavily against the bamboos, and, recoiling from them with the force of the impact, he was thrown once more in the direction of his opponent. Nor did Tyler hesitate how to act. Drawing back a pace he leapt again at the leader of the pirates, sending both his fists beneath his chin. Ah! That was sufficient to stop Hanns Schlott, in spite of his great weight. As the doubled fingers struck him his chin shot into the air and his head was doubled back. Then, throwing his arms helplessly before him, he fell like a log, his back coming into violent contact with the ground. "Quickly!" called Tyler, turning to beckon to the two who followed him. "Now give me a hand and together we will run to the boats." Grasping the child by her disengaged hand he, together with the young woman whom he had rescued, ran at their fastest pace down to the river, bearing their charge between them. A second later John Marshall and his men confronted the fugitives and hastened them to the boats. "Jest a proper whop!" cried the former in tones of delight, his enthusiasm urging him to give his congratulations without delay. "I tell yer I saw it all, for I had taken good care to creep to a spot where I had the entrance under view, and I reckon I could hear the fist strike him. But he's only downed for a minute. He's silly just now, but he'll be shouting afore we are well on the river, and then there will be some fun. This way, my dear. Give the child to me, and you'll see that John Marshall can take care of her." Lifting the child in his arms he went to one of the sampans and embarked, the young woman following. As for Tyler, he too ran down to the water's edge, and stood there while his men scrambled aboard their boats. "All there?" he demanded quietly. "Then push off at once and make for the English ship. Li Sung, you can shout to the others to cut away from their moorings and make for the sea." Leaping into one of the sampans he took his place in the bows and stood there eagerly watching the scene before him. Nor had he any difficulty in observing each one of the prahus which the tribe commanded, for, as is so often the case in the East, the sun had risen with startling suddenness, and, streaming along the open space left by the river, had swept the mist away as if with a broom. And there, as if with the movement of a magician's wand, a brilliant day had suddenly displaced the gloom, showing the broad surface of the Sarebus flashing in the morning rays, and stirred here and there by the keels of the prahus, while on either side and behind was a net-work of green, enormous trees standing in serried lines and huddled together till it scarcely seemed to need the trailing creepers, the ferns, and the festoons of dazzling blooms to fill up the intervals. And lower down, with the rising sun as a setting to them, were a score of piratical vessels, some with masts alone to be seen, while others floated upon the river in ungainly positions, careening this way and that, some with bows thrust high into the air, and others with their decks on the point of being submerged. "The remainder of Hanns Schlott's fleet," said Tyler with just the trace of a smile wreathing his lips. "He will be at a loss without them. But listen to the noise he is making. He is bellowing as if he had been hurt." "And he will shout so loud and will rush by the paths along the river so that de men below hear," chimed in Li Sung, who stood by his master's side. "You see; China boy him tellee you dat de Dutchman havee a velly big try to turn de table. He shout and him halloo, and as me say, he send de men along de river bank. But who cares? Li him quite happy. He hab big ship velly soon, and him sail to meet him wife and family." "If those below will let you," laughed Tyler, feeling now as though a load of anxious care had been lifted from his mind. "But, as you say, Li, it does not matter very much, for the tribe is now a hundred times better off than an hour ago, for we have ships, and we have weapons, and there is liberty and freedom before us. But here is the ship. Up we go!" Thanks to the careful drilling which the Dyaks had received there was no confusion at this, almost the last stage of their adventurous journey. Obedient to the orders of their leader, those who had been told off to look to the English schooner had warped her round till her head pointed down-stream, and had then hung on to her, prepared at any moment to tow her towards the bend, while two of their comrades, placed in a sampan at the stern, severed the cables with their swords. Waiting, therefore, for a shout from Tyler, they pulled at their sweeps, and hardly had the rescued prisoners and their escort scrambled aboard than the schooner was under weigh. "We will keep in rear," said Tyler, calling John Marshall to his side. "Take the tiller, my lad, and keep her in the centre of the stream. I will go with Li Sung, and will arrange to have a sail or two bent. There will be no difficulty either, for many are hanging in their places half-furled." "And what wind there is is down-stream," added the boatswain. "Give the sheets a pull to bring 'em tight, and then get the darkies to shy a bucket or two of water over the sails. It'll make 'em draw, and send us along bowling." "I'll see what can be done about guns, too," went on Tyler, "for I fancy that we shall have to fight for it later on. But it will be a small affair compared with what we have had already, and somehow I don't seem to mind much." "And I don't think no more of the idea than that," burst in the sailor, snapping his fingers. "I'm jest light-hearted, I am, and I keeps on a-roaring at the Dutchman. Lor', didn't he catch it!" The honest fellow went to the tiller with a broad grin upon his features, looking a peculiar object indeed as he stood there in his strange garb of a Dyak. As for Tyler, it was a wonder that he did not see the ridiculous side of his appearance also, for the swim across the river had not improved his disguise by any means. In fact the merest glance was sufficient to show that he was no native, for long white streaks extended from his neck to his feet, while his face presented a mottled appearance. Then, owing to his swim across the river, and to the subsequent grovelling in mud and in the dust within the stockade, he had obtained a coating which matched but badly with the stain of the betel-nut, while his waist-cloth and turban were much discoloured. But he had no time for the subject, and indeed, when he looked toward the stern to see the boatswain in similar attire, he found nothing wrong, nothing out of the ordinary, and it seemed only what was to be expected to have a big raw-boned native there, watching the rigging with nautical eye, and standing at his tiller in a business-like manner which showed that he was a sailor born and bred. "The sails first and the guns afterwards," said Tyler, running forward with Li Sung. "Get to work, like a good fellow, and take charge of one gang. I will do what I can with the other." Thanks to the fact that the vessel had been sailed into the river, and that those who had captured her had not taken the trouble to strip her of her canvas, but had merely furled the sheets to the yards, the new owners of the schooner had little difficulty in setting a large amount of sail, so much so that ere long those on board the prahu were being overhauled, and seeing that their sweeps were no longer needed, prepared to come aboard. "Make her fast to the stern and we will drop a ladder for you," shouted Tyler, Li Sung interpreting the order. "She may be useful to us later on, or I would have her scuttled. Now, how are the others doing?" He turned his face down the river, and watched the other prahus which bore the tribe of Dyaks who had journeyed with him so far. "Good!" he exclaimed. "My followers evidently understand all about vessels of that description, and they have them now fairly under weigh. Then the stream is helping them along, and as they are smaller and more easily manoeuvred than this schooner, they should be able to keep well ahead. But we will see to that, and should any be lagging we will keep them company, for it would never do to leave them behind. How are they behaving at the pirate's stronghold?" "Dey velly angry," said Li Sung with twinkling eyes, shaking his head at Tyler. "Dey not know velly fine what have happened, but dey see de prahus going, and dey watch dose which have not sunk. Ah! dis morning am a velly bad one for dem." "But there will be a worse to follow, Li. I hope to come this way again later on, and drive them out altogether. But for the time being we have enough to do without talking of that. I see that a number of the pirates have plunged into the jungle, and are no doubt bound for their friends lower down. When can we expect to come across another stockade?" "Plenty quick, massa. De pirates havee anoder place a mile below, on de right of de bank, and before velly long we be dere. Dey be ready for us too, me tink, and den de guns fire and de swords flash." "We shall see to that," said Tyler calmly, "and as there seems to be no doubt that we shall have to encounter these fellows I will see what can be done in the way of defence. But let us get our men aboard, and then set more sails." Turning abruptly to the stern again, he ran there with the Chinaman and threw a rope-ladder overboard, up which the dusky Dyaks ascended with the agility of monkeys. Then he took them along the deck with him and set them to work at the rigging. Fortunately there was little difficulty about the matter, and very soon the schooner was showing quite a large amount of canvas, which, now that it was drenched with water, as John Marshall had advised, caught the wind and sent the ship surging towards the sea. And meanwhile the other prahus had made good way, and, keeping to the centre of the river, which broadened rapidly now that they had passed out of sight of Paddi, went sweeping along in front of the English vessel which bore their leader. That the Dyaks were full of excitement and of courage there was no doubt, for they crowded to the bulwarks of their several prahus and flung shouts of defiance at the pirates who raced along beside them. Indeed, never before had they been in the position of being able to taunt these fierce enemies, and now that the opportunity had come, and they realized to the full that for the very first time it was they who were masters of the situation, while those who had so often attacked them and caused them untold suffering were helpless and beaten, they taunted them till the pirates raged with anger, and waved swords, blow-pipes, and spears at them as if bidding them wait but a little time and then join in combat with those who in former days had trembled at the approach of one even of these fierce warriors of the sea. As for the pirates, they were utterly beaten and baffled, and helpless to follow those who had made such an audacious attack upon them, by means of the river, for not a sampan had been left to them, while every prahu that they had possessed was now sailing for the sea or was beneath the water. They raced down the stream by forest paths, sometimes being within full view of Tyler and his men, and at others buried in the jungle which completely hid them from sight. But their intention was obvious, for as they ran they fired their flint muskets and shouted at the top of their voices, with the one object of warning their comrades below. "The shots will have been heard long ago," said Tyler quietly, as he gazed with satisfaction at the rigging, "and when we come to this other stronghold we shall have to face more enemies. Let us see at once to the guns." With Li Sung in close attendance he went to the cabin, and then thoroughly searched the ship, returning before very long with an abundance of ammunition and small-arms, while the Chinaman staggered beneath the weight of shot for a swivel-gun which was secured to the deck amidships. "Can the Dyaks be trusted to fire these weapons?" asked Tyler, indicating the flint-locks. "It would never do to give them into their hands if they were unaccustomed to firearms, for otherwise they would be shooting one another." "Massa need havee no fear. De Dyaks plenty knowee de gun, but dey too poor to buy, and de powder and de shot too dear for dem to havee when at home," replied Li Sung with elevated eyebrows. "But dey knowee allee about dese tings. Oh yes, massa, dey fire de gun plenty time before, and you see, Li soon showee dem allee about dese." With a knowing wag of his head the Chinaman called the Dyaks about him and began to distribute the firearms amongst them, cautioning them at the same time to be careful in their use of them, for fear of accidents. "And let them know that they are not to open fire until I have given the word," interposed Tyler in the middle of Li's explanations. "A scattered volley will be useless to us, and I have been told that natives always waste ammunition by firing when still long out of range of the enemy. We must endeavour to cool their excitement, and to make them wait till the prahus are close upon us. But what is that down lower? Surely I see a stockade of some sort there?" "Dat de oder place," responded Li Sung quickly, shading his eyes from the glare of the sun for the space of a minute ere he gave the reply. "Dat Pakoo, massa, and dere am de pirates. Li see dem wid de boom, and dey trying to close de river." At once all eyes were turned down the stream, where, some hundreds of yards away, a number of prahus and sampans of large size could be seen floating on the water. A careful inspection soon showed Tyler that the Chinaman had made no mistake, for as he looked he distinctly saw four of the largest sampans linked together in line, while their crews tugged at the sweeps which the craft carried instead of the oars used on smaller boats of a similar description. Behind the boats a long curling cable of large dimensions was being towed, and very soon it became clear to all aboard the escaping prahus that this was a boom which the pirates were endeavouring to make fast to the opposite shore and so bar the progress of the fugitives. "We will soon make an end of that for them," said Tyler quietly, "for I should think that the boom would hardly hold a couple of the prahus, and much less the fleet which we have captured. But this schooner will rip through the chains and logs as if the boom were composed of string, and will open the passage to our comrades. Keep her for the very centre," he shouted, turning his head towards the boatswain, "and see if you cannot overtake our friends." Coming down-stream with a brisk breeze and a swift current to aid them, Tyler and his friends approached the boom, which had by now been firmly secured, at a rapid pace, and very soon two of the prahus, which were somewhat in advance of their consorts, reached the obstruction, and were brought to a stand-still, for the boom was unusually powerful. A third struck against it with the same result, and it began to look as though, after all, escape for the tribe and their young leader would not be so easy. Indeed, to the pirates, who had streamed from their stronghold at the warning shouts of their comrades of Paddi, victory already appeared to be on their side, and they rent the air with hoarse shouts of delight. Crowded upon their prahus, which they had manned in all haste, they pulled into the river to the lower side of the boom, and there hung on their oars while they watched the enemy coming down upon the stream. As a fourth and a fifth vessel lodged upon the boom their excitement and delight became even greater, and, unable to contain themselves any longer, and being led by the largest of their prahus, they pulled at the boom, and prepared to come to close quarters with the men who had dared to make such an attack upon their friends. Leaping into sampans, which each of the prahus towed in her wake, some rowed at once for the boom, and gliding over it, or lifting their boat across the logs and chains, embarked again and came towards their victims at a furious pace. Others, discarding the aid of a boat, leapt into the water and swam to the boom, upon which they climbed. Then, balancing upon it with as much ease as an average European does on a wide pavement, they came splashing along, brandishing their weapons and shouting fiercely to terrify those whom they were about to attack. "For the centre!" shouted Tyler, turning again to John Marshall. "Cut through the boom, and then throw her up into the wind till we see that all our friends are through. If we fail to break it, I will lead a party with axes." Knowing that he could have full confidence in the boatswain, he left him to carry out the order unaided, and at once ran in search of something with which to cut the boom should the weight of the schooner prove insufficient. But there was really no need for him to have fears on the matter, for, thanks to the powerful stream and to the pull of her canvas, the English vessel which he and his men had appropriated rushed at the obstruction at such a pace that it was clear that nothing could stop her. Steered by the deft hand of the sailor, she headed for the very centre, the weakest spot, and, striking it with all her force, severed it as if it had been paper. Then, plunging on in her course, she bore down upon the large prahu which had led the attack upon those who had been arrested by the boom, and ere the latter could be moved aside by means of her sweeps the schooner was upon her. Ah! The crash of rending wood-work filled the air, while shrieks and shouts of alarm were heard on every side. But the schooner never faltered, indeed her frame never even seemed to feel the jar, but, plunging on, she rolled the prahu upon her beam-ends, and then drove clean over her, sending her straight to the bottom. As for those of her crew who had leapt upon the boom, or had taken to the sampans, they were left upon the surface of the river gazing at the retreating fleet in consternation, as yet unable to realize that those who a minute before seemed at their mercy had so suddenly made good their escape, and had robbed them of one of their finest prahus. With fear in their hearts they turned to their stockade again, and disappeared within, feeling that to attempt pursuit of such an enemy would end only in further suffering. "And now for Sarawak!" shouted Tyler, as the fleet of prahus sailed clear of the boom, and headed for the sea once more. "Our troubles are almost over, and within a day we should be safely amongst friends. Hurrah for Sarawak!" CHAPTER XIII The Rajah of Sarawak Standing down-stream under a cloud of canvas the fleet of prahus, with the English schooner escorting, made an imposing sight, and Tyler could not but feel proud as he looked on at the scene; for it was wonderful to think that he and the humble Dyaks should have met with such success, and that the termination of their journey should have found them better off by far than they were at the commencement. "Why, these prahus alone will be enough to set the tribe up once we have arrived," mused Tyler, "and no doubt we shall be able to sell them with ease. Then, again, the fact that the Sarebus pirates have met with a reverse at our hands will ensure a welcome for the Dyaks. But I must not run too far ahead, for we are not yet out of the river. Tell me," he went on, calling the Chinaman to him, "are there any others to be feared? This river seems to be infested with pirates, and it will not surprise me to hear that there are others." "Den you will see dat dat is so, massa. De Rembas men live some miles below, and dey velly fierce, velly bad. But dey not always friends wid de men of Paddi and de oders whom we havee beaten. Perhaps dey not interfere, and if dey do, well, massa, sail de schooner down upon dem and dey sink, dey goee to de bottom." The news that more enemies might yet have to be encountered scarcely caused our hero any uneasiness, for he had come to understand that the prahus manned by the pirates were no match for an English ship, unless, indeed, the latter were becalmed, or in some way unable to offer resistance. But for all that he did not allow the subject to escape him, and having, by dint of shouts and signals, induced his followers to draw close together, and lay-to for a time, he sent a message to each one of the prahus that they were to keep behind the schooner, and that on no account were the men to show their arms, or to wave to the enemy. Then, turning the schooner's bows once more towards the sea, he led the way a ship's length ahead of the fleet, and ere long arrived off the tributary upon which the Rembas pirates had their lair. But there was no sign of the latter, and, indeed, not a boat crossed the water till the coast was at hand and they were making through the wide mouth of the river. "A fleet making in," said John Marshall in Tyler's ear, suddenly pointing to one edge of the wide bay into which the Sarebus poured. "They will pass close to us as we run into the sea, and from the looks of them they are pirates." "And we have much the same appearance," said Tyler calmly. "We will keep on without an attempt to alter our course, and perhaps they will take us for their friends. One moment and I will get rid of this colour from my face, and will hunt out a coat. Then I can take the helm and pretend to be the Dutchman." Running below he quickly unearthed a coat from one of the cabins, and, having obtained a bucket and a piece of soap, immersed his face in water. Five minutes later he returned to the deck with a less dusky complexion, and with the coat about his shoulders. "Now for the helm," he said, noticing that the fleet was now close at hand, and that the pirates would pass within hailing distance. "It seems to me that they will not even question us, for they will know that the men of Paddi have recently captured an English schooner, and will think nothing of the fact that the latter is leading the prahus to sea. But I do hope that our fellows will not allow their excitement to get the better of them, and shout and jeer at these strangers." By now the gathering of prahus, which had been sighted entering the mouth of the river Sarebus, was close at hand, steering a course which would take it close beside the fleet under Tyler's command. But it was evident that the leader, whatever his feelings with regard to the men of Paddi, had no suspicions of the new-comers, for he had posted himself in the bows of his own particular command, and as he swept past the schooner he leapt upon the rail and shouted a greeting, to which Tyler responded by waving his arm. Then all the dusky pirates from Rembas, a gang as celebrated in those seas for their bloodthirstiness and acts of violence as were the men of Paddi, lined the bulwarks and sent their cheers across the narrow space which intervened as the two fleets sailed by one another. Quick to grasp the fact that they were undiscovered, the Dyaks replied with loud cries and much waving of the arms, and then, ere there was time for any more, or for the exchange of words, the prahus had separated and were swiftly running away from one another. "And now there is nothing but the open sea and a grand passage between us and friends," exclaimed Tyler, with every sign of satisfaction, "and, that being the case, I am reminded that we have eaten nothing for many hours. Li Sung, just get below and see what is to be found. We will divide the provisions, and send their share to the men and women on the other prahus. And now I can devote a little time to the captives whom we rescued." Six hours later, having coasted along within easy distance of the line of surf which beat without cessation upon the land of Borneo, the fleet bore up to the left, and entered the river which led to the town of Sarawak, and ere very long had sighted the collection of buildings which went by that name. "And there's two ships of some sort," cried John Marshall as he stood by his leader's side, suddenly pointing to a creek close beside the houses. "They're English too, and what's more, they're sending their boats away. It looks as though they were coming in this direction." [Illustration: ELUDING THE PIRATES] "That is certainly the case," replied Tyler, at once catching sight of the vessels to which the sailor had alluded, and noticing that each had lowered three boats, which were being rowed towards the incoming fleet. "I suppose that they are coming to give us a welcome, or perhaps to see who we are." "What do we look like, do yer think, sir?" cried the boatswain gruffly. "Why, back there at the mouth of the Sarebus river you said that we were jest like pirates, and if that hadn't been the case, them men of Rembas would soon have been at our throats. Well, don't yer see? These fellers here, under the Englishman I suppose, take us for what we look to be, and if we're not partic'lar careful they'll be firing into us." That this was a possibility all very quickly saw, for as the fleet of prahus and the six open boats approached one another the latter were seen to be manned by men in naval dress, while in the bows of each a swivel-gun was carried. Indeed, as if to show the strangers that their arrival at Sarawak would be contested, a spout of flame and smoke shot out from one of the guns at that moment, and a ball came hurtling across the forefoot of the schooner. A second followed swiftly, ricochetting across the water, and then hulling the vessel, striking with a thud which could be heard far away. "And now come the bullets," said Tyler with a smile, as the patter of musketry broke the silence, and the water was splashed beside the schooner. "But the mistake has gone far enough, and we must let them see their error. Stand aside, John, and just tell Li Sung to warn the others to get under cover. I will go forward and shout to them." Running into the bows, he sprang upon the rail there, and with one hand holding the rigging so as to retain his position, waved a piece of sail-cloth to the men who were approaching. "Friends!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "Don't fire any more, or you will be killing those who are coming here to ask for your protection." His words carried easily across the water, and almost at once an officer was seen to rise to his feet. "Cease fire!" they heard him shout. "Now, surround that schooner, as she seems to be the leader, and train your guns upon her. You can lie off so as to be out of range of their spears, but do not be so far away as to make a rush impossible. I will go closer in, and see who it is that called to us." Careless of the fact that he might have been running into a trap, the officer gave an order for the boat to be pulled closer in, and then stood in the bows awaiting the moment when he would be able to go aboard the stranger. As for Tyler, with a shout to attract John Marshall's attention, and a wave of his arm, he had caused the latter to throw the schooner into the wind, a movement which was at once imitated by those in command of the other vessels. Then in his quaint costume, consisting of an old coat which had been made for a man of a smaller size than himself, and with the remains of his old disguise about him, he stood at the top of a rope-ladder which was lowered over the side. "Eh! what's this?" demanded the officer as he scrambled over the rail. "And who are you who sail into the river at the head of a fleet which we could not help but take for pirates? Why, you're a youngster, surely, and an Englishman!" "Tyler Richardson by name," responded our hero, stepping forward with his hand held to his forehead in salute. "Gazetted to the _Dido_, sir, and pursued by pirates on my way to join my ship." "And you understand how to salute an officer of superior rank," cried the one who had boarded the schooner, in astonished tones. "Tyler Richardson! Why, that is the name of the young fellow who was to come to us, the lad who rescued two naval officers from the hold of a ship which lay in Southampton." "I am the one of whom you speak," said Tyler modestly. "As I have said, I came out to Singapore, and hearing that the _Dido_ had left the China seas, I obtained permission to accompany a gentleman who was coming to Borneo to explore certain parts of the island. A Dutchman, who had shipped with us as interpreter, and who turned out to be one of two leaders of the pirates of Sarebus, murdered my friend, and then helped his followers to capture our ship. Our boatswain, John Marshall, who stands beside you, actually saw the ruffian fire the shot which killed Mr. Beverley. Then he came to my aid, and together we were able to regain possession of the schooner by means of a trick." "And this is the same vessel, I presume?" interrupted the officer, whose face showed his amazement. "No, sir, this is another," replied Tyler quietly. "This fellow of whom I speak, the Dutchman--" "I beg your pardon, but what is his name, and where did he and his scoundrels hail from?" suddenly asked the officer, interrupting for the second time. "He commanded the men of Sarebus, and was helped by a countryman of the name of Christian van Sonerell." "Then we know of them, and a precious couple they are too! But we shall catch them some day, and then they will have much to answer for. But please go on with your tale, Mr. Richardson, and let me say at once, before we go any further, that I give you a hearty welcome to Sarawak and the _Dido_. Shake hands." He grasped Tyler warmly by the fingers, and then turned to greet John Marshall in the same manner. "Very glad to welcome you," he added. "You will be an addition to our company, and will find many friends. Now for these Dutchmen, please, and for news of their whereabouts." "The murderer, Hans Schlott, is within his stronghold at Paddi, where we left him this morning," said Tyler, "and the other--" "Paddi! You left him there! But, excuse me, I will not interrupt again." The officer managed to repress his astonishment, and stood there staring at our hero as he detailed what had happened to himself and to John Marshall. "And so you and the boatswain managed to get clear away from this rascal, and have arrived here with a whole tribe of Dyaks," he said at last, when Tyler had ended. "Well, I can scarcely credit the story at present, though please do not imagine for a moment that I doubt your word. But you must understand that the whole thing is so out of the common, the adventure so strange and perplexing, that I am unable to grasp its details at present. How you and this lad here managed to beat the Dutchman so often is beyond me, and your audacity in making for Paddi takes my breath away. Why, sir, I can tell you that the Rajah of Sarawak hesitates to attack the stronghold for fear of being beaten back, and also because he needs a guide. But we shall alter that now, or I am much mistaken; for if we went for no other purpose we should be bound to hunt out this rascal who murdered your friend Mr. Beverley. But we have been speaking for long, and my men will be firing into you if we are not careful, imagining that you have laid your hands on me. One moment and I will explain matters to them." Leaving Tyler and the boatswain for a few moments, he went to the rail and called to those who manned the boats to come closer to the schooner. Then in a few hurried words he explained that those who had so suddenly appeared opposite Sarawak were friends, and were not pirates, as had at first appeared to be the case. "And now, Mr. Richardson, I think that you should report your arrival first to Captain Keppel and then to the Rajah of Sarawak, Mr. Brooke, of whom you have heard," he continued, approaching Tyler with a friendly smile. "If you will leave the tribe to me I will see that they are housed and fed, while my men will board the prahus and take them to their moorings. As for your comrade, he had better go with you, and afterwards perhaps some post will be found for him, for we must remember that he does not belong to the royal navy, but to the merchant service." "Then we had better look out some clothes, sir," said Tyler contrasting his own appearance with that of the smart officer who had accosted him. "Will you allow us to go below before we report ourselves? Then we shall be able to make ourselves respectable." "By all means, Mr. Richardson," was the hearty answer, "and while you are below I will undertake to have the little girl and her nurse taken ashore. It was a gallant act to rescue them, and you will have the thanks of your captain for it. But there, I see that you do not like to have overmuch praise, so go below. I shall be here when you return, so as to give you an introduction." Saluting him again, Tyler turned about, and, accompanied by John Marshall, slipped down to the cabin of the schooner. And here, thanks to the fact that the pirates had put off stripping their prize till the morning after their arrival at Paddi, the two were able to discover an abundance of clothing, and soon made their appearance on deck dressed in thin suits of blue. "An excellent change," said the officer with a smile, as they went up to him. "It was no wonder that I took you for dangerous individuals when you arrived, for your disguises made you look more than fierce. But now you are like the rest of us, and are fully prepared for an interview with those who lead us. You can hop into the boat at once and come with me, and by the way, Mr. Richardson, my name is Horton, Lieutenant Wilmot Horton of the _Dido."_ Responding promptly to the invitation to enter the boat which awaited them, Tyler and the companion who had stood beside him through their long and adventurous journey clambered down the rope-ladder which dangled over the side, and having been instantly followed by the lieutenant, were soon on their way to the largest of the two vessels moored off the town of Sarawak. "Follow me," said the officer, taking Tyler by the sleeve as they reached the deck. "You can go forward till we send for you, my lad," he added, turning to John Marshall. "Now, Mr. Richardson, our captain is on the poop, and we will go to him. Please remember to touch your hat as you mount the companion ladder, and again as you stand before him." Hearty indeed was the welcome which was given to our hero when it was known who he was. From the commander of the _Dido_ downwards all vied with one another in showing him how glad they were to see him. "Of course I know that you are somewhat over the ordinary age," said Captain Keppel, as he chatted with him in his cabin; "but then you have won a commission by bravery, and that is sufficient to recommend you and to make the Lords of the Admiralty overlook your years. Not that you are so very old, my lad," he added with a smile. "Then you have come to us with a tale which will procure much commendation, for you have actually been in the lair which these pirates inhabit, and will be able to guide us there and tell us of their doings. "But I must not keep you longer, for it is necessary that you should go to Mr. Brooke, who is now the Rajah of the province of Sarawak, and tell him what has occurred. You will oblige me by taking this young officer ashore, Mr. Horton, and introducing him to the rajah. Send the man who accompanied him to me, so that I may listen to the story and hear every detail." Both at once turned about, touching their caps as they did so, and repeating the action as they descended from the poop. Then they re-entered the boat which lay alongside, and were pulled to the landing-stage which had been erected close to the rajah's residence. "Not at home just now," said the lieutenant, after he had made enquiries of a Dyak lad who stood at the door. "Then we will wait, and as the rajah keeps open house, and gives the officers an invitation to enter whether he is here or not, we will go in and shelter from the heat. Follow me, and I will show you where you can be comfortable. By the way, my lad, I suppose you know all about Mr. Brooke and his doings?" "Very little, I am afraid," answered Tyler. "Of course Mr. Beverley told me that he was here, and that he had come to better the condition of the natives. But I did not know more than that, and do not now." "Then I will spin you a yarn about this man, who is a wonder in many respects, and who has gained the esteem and affection of every one of us, from our commander downwards. Let me see; yes, I will commence by telling you that one time he belonged to our sister service, the army, and saw a considerable amount of fighting in India and Burmah, distinguishing himself in the latter country, where he led the assault upon a stockade, and was shot through the chest. That wound sent him home, and it is by the merest good luck, and thanks also to the fact that he had an excellent constitution, that our friend lived to come to Sarawak; for he was badly hurt, and hovered between life and death for many a month. However, recover he did at last, when he set about finding a task which would occupy all his thoughts and all his energy, and which would at the same time help to lighten the condition of those of his fellow-beings who were worse off than himself. And that brings me to a point which I have not mentioned. This wounded soldier was a thinker, and is, too, at this moment. He did not waste his time in frivolity, in games and pastimes, as do so many in both services. But he devoted much of his life to work, and to investigating the condition of men in various parts of the world. Thanks to that fact, and also to the opportunity which a trading venture had given him, he became aware of the misery existing in this island of Borneo, and from that moment he was bent upon relieving the condition of the people. Now you will admit that there are few who would have set about such a matter, for when you come to consider the facts you will see that Borneo is, in the first place, an island of large extent, while this portion, called Borneo Proper, is perhaps as large as England herself. Then, again, the rajah knew well that pirates abounded, and that if he escaped attack from them he was likely at any moment to have the Dyaks seeking for his life, for some of the tribes are very ferocious. Still, whatever their nature, there was no doubt that life was but a misery to the majority of the people, that they were constantly robbed, killed, or hurried into slavery by the pirates, and that that condition of affairs had existed for untold years. To all of this Mr. Brooke determined to put a stop. "You will ask very naturally: 'How did he set about the matter?' and I will at once admit that, to anyone faced with the same question and the same difficulty, an answer would be hard to find. How could one man, without the aid of his Government, without soldiers or sailors to help him, hope to set foot in the island, and control the deeds of thousands of human beings, men who knew nothing of his aims and objects, and cared less? Why, even those for whose relief he aimed were too absorbed in their misery, too used to their lives, to think that change was possible, and when he first came, some of them were amongst his bitterest enemies, for they could not understand that one man, and he a foreigner, could take such interest in a race of natives who were strangers to him. "Thus you will see from what I have said that from the very first the prospect of success was not too bright, while the method by which reform could be brought about was so obscure and difficult to arrive at that a man endowed with similar courage and persistence might well have given the task up in despair, feeling that to make a commencement on the work was well-nigh impossible. Not so our friend the Rajah of Sarawak. His heart was set upon the undertaking, and he allowed nothing to stand in his way. When I tell you that he had absolutely nothing to gain, that his mission was not one for the purpose of profit-making, and that he ran the risk of losing anything that he already possessed, I think that you too will be filled with admiration. "As an example of his dogged perseverance, he did not rush at this enterprise with the impetuosity of a young man, only to give up the idea at the first rebuff, or when real difficulties commenced to stare him in the face. But he set himself, first of all, to train a crew of men upon whom he could rely, and for that purpose he bought, out of his private fortune, a schooner, the _Royalist_, which lies alongside the _Dido_ at this moment. For three years he cruised in her, for the most part in the Mediterranean, and during the whole of that time he was busily engaged in hunting up records of the island of Borneo and the surroundings. At length, feeling that his preparations were completed, he sailed from Devonport on December 16th, 1838, having a crew of twenty men, and a supply of arms aboard, including six six-pounder guns. On arrival at Singapore he shipped a few Malay hands to help with the wooding and watering of the ship, and then shaped a course for Sarawak. "Now Marudu, which is in the north of the island, had been the part for which he had intended to sail when leaving England, thinking that that port would be the best at which to commence his labours. But news gathered in Singapore caused him to change his mind, and therefore he came to Sarawak, anchoring at the very spot where the two vessels are now moored. Imagine his pleasure when, on landing, he found himself received with every honour by Rajah Muda Hassim, uncle of the Sultan of Borneo. It was indeed a pleasant surprise, for our friend had expected anything but a welcome; and had he carried out his first idea, and sailed for Marudu, there is little doubt that a very different reception would have awaited him, for that district was ruled over by a notorious chief who favoured piracy, and in consequence the bay was the rendezvous for all the robbers and ruffians in and about the island. "This Muda Hassim, however, was a very different class of individual, for he had some education, and, in place of being fierce and unscrupulous, he was gentle in manner, while, for a Malay, he was possessed of honest intentions. "And now to tell you how Mr. Brooke commenced this work of his, to describe how the first seeds were sown, the thin end of the wedge introduced, and the old miserable order, with its cruelties and oppression, slowly banished. Do not think that change was brought about from the very first, and that, because a pleasant welcome had greeted him, his influence was to have weight with the natives simply on account of the fact that he was an Englishman, and because men of that race were thought much of in that part of Borneo. The rajah would have done nothing, would have met with failure, had it not been for the fact that this native, Muda Hassim, was in difficulties and in need of help, and that by coming to his aid our friend first of all made him his debtor for life, while at the same time he showed the natives what a man he was; that his word was reliable, and that he could fight as well as he could talk. Yes, that was the secret of his success. From the very first he had enemies, and there is no doubt that his life was often in danger; but the rajah never thought of his position seriously, but boldly went amongst the natives. Then, too, he showed an ever-ready disposition to protect those who lived beneath the sway of this Muda Hassim, and on one occasion, when a fleet of pirates arrived in the river, with the intention of sailing farther up and raiding the Dyaks in the interior, this commander of the _Royalist_ manned his guns and let the marauders see that they would have to fight an action before they could pass. For that he gained the gratitude of many who had never set eyes upon him, but who at that time knew him vaguely as the Englishman. "Very soon, however, his name and his appearance were known everywhere, for Muda Hassim was, as I have already said, in great difficulties. It seems that a rebellion had broken out in the district of Sarawak, owing to the oppression of a chief of the name of Makota, and that for many months matters had been at a stand-still. The rebels were entrenched in stockades, and an army under this Makota was opposed to them. But there was no fighting, and instead the combatants watched one another listlessly, the besiegers unable to attack, simply because they possessed no leader who had the courage to direct them, and the rebels because they were too few. Instead, therefore, the first lounged the days away, while the Dyaks and Malays who were in rebellion sought for food, of which they were in great need. And all the while the country was at a stand-still, there was no trade, while the wretched people were rapidly becoming destitute. "It was at this juncture that Mr. Brooke came to the rescue. Having looked into the matter thoroughly, and run back to Singapore for a time, he was at length induced to proceed to the part where the rebels were entrenched; for Muda Hassim had besought his aid. In fact, for three years the latter had been helpless; and all the while he and the Sultan of Borneo were afraid lest, finding that terms were not to be obtained from their own people, the rebels should apply to the men of Sambas, pirates for the most part, to take up their cause. If that were to happen, and the latter be successful, then Sarawak and the neighbourhood would come under the sway of the Dutch, for Sambas was controlled by that nation. Thus, Muda Hassim and the sultan had much to lose, and longer delay might prove disastrous. "But our friend was not the man to enter upon a conflict of this nature for the purpose of gain, and it was only when he became convinced of the misery which existed on account of the rebellion, and of the starving condition of the people, that he finally consented to accompany Muda Hassim to the army and see what could be done. "I will not tell you any of the details, Richardson, for they are of little interest, but will simply say that the energy of this Englishman soon brought an end to the little war. A rush on the part of his men, with himself at their head, soon changed the ideas of the rebels--so much so that Mr. Brooke was able to make terms with them and induce them to surrender. Finally, with the help of his crew he prevented all attempts at massacre, which would have taken place had it not been for his watchfulness, and, having obtained hostages, sent the rebels to their homes. There, that is the first step in the present rajah's popularity. He showed these natives that he was bold and strong, while at the same time he gained their confidence, for he would not permit a beaten foe to be ill-treated, and once the war was over he set about increasing the prosperity of the natives, instead of robbing them and making them even more miserable than before, as would have been the case had anyone else been in his place. Indeed, he had many a wordy fight with this man Macota, and with Muda Hassim too, before he gained security for the defeated rebels, and many a time afterwards, had it not been for his energy and his powerful influence, robbery and violence would have been practised upon the humble Dyaks of the interior. And so, little by little did his fame reach the ears of far-distant people, till the name of Brooke, the great and powerful Englishman, the defender of the weak and poor, the friend of all Dyaks and the enemy of all rogues and pirates, become one to conjure with. Indeed, if not rajah in fact, he was as good as leader of this province, and when at last the sultan conferred the title upon him, and handed over the government of Sarawak to our friend and his heirs for ever, the people received him with gladness, and save for a few, such as Macota, and others who had fallen foul of him, accepted him as their chief with every sign of satisfaction. "From that moment Rajah Brooke has been busily engaged in touring through his district, in issuing laws for the guidance of the people, and in suppressing all attempts at slavery, all head-hunting, and all acts of violence and robbery. So energetic has he been, so powerful has he become, that all who are bent on the old life fear him more than a little, while the majority, the Dyaks of the interior, the peaceful Malays, and the hard-working and ever-contented Chinese--all, in fact, who long for a life spent in agriculture, in mining, or in trade--have settled down wonderfully, placing full reliance in the Englishman and in his word that, so far as he can prevent it, they shall be undisturbed. "But reform cannot be brought about in a day, or in a year for the matter of that, and there are still numbers of Dyaks who, instead of using all their energies in trade, have constant wars with one another, often with the sole object of obtaining heads. Then, too, the pirates have always been a severe thorn in the side of our friend, and, indeed, have become so audacious that the _Dido_ has been sent to render help to the English rajah. And that is the reason why you failed to find her at Singapore, and also for our sailing from China. But you are here at last, and will be able to tell us much that is valuable, for our commander and the rajah have put their heads together, and have decided to hunt these pirates out of their nests. Those at Sarebus, or, I ought to say, at Paddi, on the Sarebus river, will come in for particular attention, for the Dutchmen who commanded them have made them notorious. In fact, had it not been for their presence I doubt that so many ships of European build would have been set upon, for the Malays fear a white man more than they do fifty or sixty of the Dyaks. However, these Dutchmen have led them, and have done much harm to the trade with Singapore. For that reason partly, and now because you tell us that one has committed a deliberate murder, we shall pay attention to Paddi, and before very long, I hope, we shall be able to let everyone know that the pirates who live there are no more. "But come. We will call for some refreshment, and when we have finished, the rajah should make his appearance, for it is already near to nightfall, and it is his custom to return before that hour if possible." The officer went to a bell and sounded it with a stick which hung beside it. Then, on a Dyak lad presenting himself, he spoke a few words of English, which, with a few in the native tongue, helped to make his wants known. "They are wonderfully sharp, as I dare say you have observed," he said as he threw himself back in his chair, "and this lad who serves the rajah is very quick at gathering one's meaning. But we have still a little time before us, my lad and if you are not too tired I'd like to hear more of your story. I have told you what I know of the rajah, and it is only fair that you should let me know how it was that you reached your ship. Come, you sailed from Singapore, hoping to pick up the _Dido_ in these seas, in which attempt you have been successful. You ran foul of this Dutchman, by name Hanns Schlott--for whom his countrymen are looking, so I hear,--and you took to the land. Then you seem to have made friends with a tribe of Dyaks, in what manner I do not know; and finally you have come to Sarawak with a fleet of prahus which you and this small army took from the pirates of Sarebus. That is the bare outline as you gave it to me, but there must be more behind, and I should be glad to listen to the tale. Out with it, and do not keep back a single item." Lieutenant Horton turned upon Tyler with an encouraging smile, and then sat watching him as he told of the adventures which had befallen himself and John Marshall on their way to Sarawak. "You will do well, and deserve to have early mention in the despatches which our commander will send to the admiral," said the lieutenant when the tale was finished; "and it is easy to see that you and the boatswain have had many an anxious moment. For myself, the conflict with the mias seems to be the most dangerous, for the natives in these parts tell stories of how the orang-outang can fight. In any case they are fierce-looking monsters, and I am sure that there are few who would willingly place themselves in reach of such murderous teeth and arms. Indeed, many in your case would have been content to lie in the jungle and remain hidden, for these Dyaks might well have proved enemies, and for the sake of their own safety might have handed you over to the Dutchman and his pirates. However, all turned out well, and you are here. But what is that? Ah, the rajah has returned, and here he comes!" He sprang from his seat to greet a tall gentleman who entered the room at that moment, and then introduced Tyler. "A new arrival," he said with a smile. "Come to join the _Dido_, but by the strangest route possible. Permit me to present Mr. Tyler Richardson, who was granted a commission for bravery in England, where he rescued two naval officers from a grain ship, in the hold of which they had been overcome by foul gas which had accumulated; and who, on his way to join the _Dido_, has crossed many miles of Borneo, arriving here with a tribe of friendly Dyaks, and with an imposing fleet of prahus, captured from the redoubtable Dutchman who commands the pirates of Sarebus." "Journey across Borneo! Sarebus pirates!" cried the new-comer, a tall energetic-looking man, with clean-shaven and handsome features. "Impossible! But, your pardon! I did not mean that I caught sight of the strange vessels lying beside the _Royalist_ and the _Dido_, and knowing by that fact that they could not be enemies, I hastened here with the intention of sending off at once to ascertain where they came from. You see," he added with a little smile, "we have to be careful of all strangers, for a fleet of prahus is apt to be manned by pirates, and should they manage to escape the notice of our ships, and pass our guns, the poor Dyaks up the river would suffer. But I am interrupting. You spoke of the Dutchman, Horton. What is the meaning of this riddle? Surely you cannot mean that Mr. Richardson has been to Paddi, that he has been a captive there? A Malay might have that fortune, but an Englishman is never taken prisoner. He is killed without any mercy." "And so would our young friend have been," was the prompt reply. "The facts are as I briefly stated them, Rajah. This young officer was compelled to take to the land, and there he fell in with some Dyaks, who feared the pirates. Together they have made for Sarawak, and on their way here have contrived to capture or sink every prahu lying at Paddi, while they have brought with them a ship lately taken from the traders of Singapore, together with a child and her nurse. But there; he has just given me the yarn, and it will not hurt him to repeat it, particularly when he is aware that the facts will be of the utmost importance." Thus bidden, Tyler repeated his story, the Rajah of Sarawak listening carefully to every word, and interrupting him at times to ask questions as to the exact position of the stronghold at Paddi, the strength of the enemy, and the precautions taken against attack. "You have done us a great service," said the latter at length, when he had obtained all the details, "for you are, with the exception of these rascally Dutchmen, the only white men who have ascended the Sarebus river. Thanks to you and your comrade, we shall be able to increase our knowledge of the various bends and reaches, and, with the information we already have derived from the natives, shall be able to find our way to Paddi. But Rembas must be seen to first before we come to this Hanns Schlott. However, the odds shall not deter us, for these pirates must and shall be exterminated. They are the one great drawback to my scheme, and were it not for them the natives of this part of Borneo would already be settling down to a life of peace and prosperity. As it is, their goods and their lives are never safe, while in the country commanded and reached by the tributaries of the Sarebus the condition of the unfortunate people is similar to that which existed here on my arrival, when the rebellion was in progress. Yes, an expedition shall be arranged without delay, and with you to guide us, Mr. Richardson, and the men of the _Dido_ and of the _Royalist_ to follow us, we will sweep these pests away and bring happiness and prosperity to the people. But it is already dark and I am detaining you. Please come here again to-morrow, so that I may talk the matter over more fully." With a hearty shake of the hand he dismissed them, the lieutenant and Tyler returning at once to the _Dido_, where the latter found that all was in readiness for him. Indeed, thanks to the fact that the tale of his adventures had buzzed through the ship, his comrades, who were all of about his own age, having already had more than a year's service, greeted him as if he were an old messmate, and carried him away to their own special sanctum without delay, there to pour questions innumerable upon him, and to beg of him to tell them everything. But they were destined to be disappointed, for scarcely had Tyler seated himself than a marine arrived at the door with a request that he would dine in the captain's cabin, and thither he betook himself without delay. When he retired to his hammock that night, and rolled himself in a blanket, it was with the knowledge that stirring times were ahead, and that ere many days had elapsed he and his new friends would be on their way to Sarebus, there to come hand to hand with the pirates. CHAPTER XIV A Dangerous Enterprise "Pass the word for Mr. Richardson, please. He's wanted in the captain's cabin immediately." The order, conveyed by means of a marine, was called in stentorian tones down the companion ladder leading to the narrow quarters in which Tyler had breakfasted, and brought him to his feet with a flush upon his cheeks. "A wigging! He's going to catch it nicely!" sang out one of his new messmates, giving vent to a bantering laugh. "The skipper wants to know what he means to do with his fleet, and whether he has made arrangements to victual his Dyaks. Stand aside there, you fellows, and permit the admiral to pass! This way, sir, and if you're wanting a mate of sorts, why, look about you, for here are the men!" The young fellow who had shouted the words indulged in a comical grimace, and placing his hand to his heart bowed in mock deference to the lad who, up to a few hours before, had, indeed, been as good as an admiral, for he had had command of quite a number of vessels, while the fate of many individuals had been in his hands. However, Tyler was not the one to take offence, particularly when his comrades had greeted him in such a manner, and with a laugh, and a sudden dash at the banterer which sent the latter sprawling on one side, he gained the companion and commenced to mount to the deck above. "Right!" he called back with a merry laugh, "you shall all come with me, and as for the victualling, you shall have the management of that, for you have shown that you possess a hearty appetite, which will keep the food question before you. But sorry I can't wait, you fellows. I'll send for my first mate when I want him!" A roar of good-natured laughter followed him up the ladder, and he emerged upon the deck with smiling features, well pleased with the manner in which he was treated by those with whom he had to live. Then, straightening his dress, he went aft to the cabin in which Captain Keppel had his quarters, and was announced by the marine who stood on guard outside the door. "Mr. Tyler Richardson," said the latter, throwing open the door. "Shall he enter, sir?" "Show him in, please," was the answer, "and send to Lieutenant Horton with my compliments and with the request that he will kindly attend here." Next moment Tyler found himself in the presence of his commanding officer, before whom he stood cap in hand. "Come and sit here," said Captain Keppel, taking him by the shoulder, "and make yourself comfortable, for I am going to have a discussion in which you will have to take a part. You must know that Mr. Brooke has at length managed to arouse the interest of the Government, who have for very many years been indifferent to the trade which might result to England by suppressing bloodshed in these parts, and in consequence the _Dido_ has been sent here to help him, and with the main object of putting an end to these acts of piracy which are so frequent, and which invariably end in cruel murders and in slavery. That is the way. Sit down in that chair, and try to remember every point in your journey down the river Sarebus, for the information which you can give us will be of the utmost value. But tell me, have you seen the little captive since you brought her to Sarawak?" "She was taken ashore at once, sir," responded Tyler, his interest in the child being at once aroused. "You see, while on the schooner I had so many things to arrange and to look to that I never had an opportunity of speaking to the captives, or of asking them how it was that they had fallen into the hands of the Dutchman." "Then I can tell you all about them," said the captain. "The child is the daughter of a naval officer stationed with the China fleet, and at present doing duty at Hong-Kong. She was on her way home to England for the purpose of education, and was despatched by a schooner which would take her to Singapore, where she would tranship to a mail boat bound for home waters. The tale of her capture is nothing out of the ordinary, and it suffices to say that this scoundrel of a Dutchman, of whom I hope to hear more, came upon the vessel and took her without difficulty, for she was manned by Chinese for the most part. They were killed at once, while the nurse and the child were kept, probably with the idea that money might be obtained for them. It was a gallant deed, Mr. Richardson, and reflects the greatest credit upon you, for it would have been far easier and far less dangerous for you to have gone off with the prahus and your followers, leaving the two to their fate. "But there, I see that you do not like to hear much about that part of the matter; though before dropping the subject I consider that it is only right for me to acquaint you with the fact that I have given a full description of the rescue in despatches which I wrote after your arrival here, and also that I have sent a letter to the officer whose child you rescued. "And now let us turn to these pirates, for I hear Mr. Horton's step outside." He turned to greet the chief officer of the _Dido_, and having motioned him to a chair, placed himself at the end of the dining-table which occupied a central position in the cabin. "Oblige me by drawing closer," he said, "and cast your eyes over these rough charts. They are some which I have prepared with the help of natives who have ascended the Sarebus, and may or may not be correct. And now, Mr. Richardson, kindly tell me which are the towns on the river, adding any points which may be of importance." Thus bidden, Tyler scanned the charts which his commander put before him, and having asked for a pen and ink, and for a piece of blank paper, began at once to sketch the true course of the river, as observed by himself when escaping from Paddi. "Rembas is the first of the strongholds, and is said to be the most powerful," he remarked. "But we had the good fortune to pass the pirates of that name, they mistaking us for friends. Pakoo comes next, and then Paddi, where this Dutchman has his residence. The river there divides into two, and Paddi is placed on the tongue of land between the two tributaries." "And what about the bore?" demanded Captain Keppel eagerly. "I am told that these pirates seem not to fear attack, and, indeed, scarcely make any preparations for defence, except such as is necessary to keep native tribes out, for they imagine that this bore protects them. It is caused by the tide running into a wide mouth, and then suddenly finding only a narrow course. The mass of water is still forced on, and, unable to spread to either side, it rises till it forms quite a wall, and advances up the river in that manner." "With the result that it swamps any but boats of fairly large size," added the lieutenant. "At least, that is the account which the rajah gave me, and he heard the tale from natives who had ascended the river." "It may be so," Tyler answered, "but we did not meet with this bore on our way down to the sea. Should there be such a thing, and I can well imagine it, considering the straight course of the river and the manner in which it suddenly narrows, it would not be very difficult to avoid being swamped, for the bore will come with the tide, and at that time any boats which might be conveying an expedition could be rowed into a bay or creek, many of which exist all along the banks." "And in there they could lie in safety!" exclaimed the commander of the _Dido_, looking swiftly at his first officer. "It is a good suggestion, Mr. Richardson, and I now perceive how it is that you managed to bring the tribe of Dyaks through. Depend upon it, the man--or lad for the matter of that, for you are scarcely more--who is gifted with common sense, and with sufficient steadiness to use it, finds his resources many, and a way out of difficulties which would be unsurmountable to others less inclined to think. Then you would lie up in one of these creeks if you were in command of the expedition?" "Yes, sir," replied Tyler with a flush. "I should row up for a quarter of a mile, and then, if it were possible, I should disembark and haul each boat into the jungle. Then there would be no danger of being swamped, and once the bore had passed the expedition could push on again." "And probably take the enemy by surprise, for the latter would hardly expect them, and would, in fact, believe that all had been drowned by the bore. Yes, the plan will prove a good one, I am sure. And now to discuss the other part, and to obtain a full description of the river from you." For more than an hour did the three pore over the charts, and discuss the measures to be taken for the suppression of the pirates. Then Tyler was addressed once more by his commander. "And now I have a request to make," said the latter gravely, turning to him slowly and scanning his features closely, as though he would read his character by that means. "You have had more fortune than falls to the lot of the vast majority of young fellows, for you have passed through part of a country which is considered impossible for Englishmen, a part where the Dutch have never dared to go. Moreover, you have met these pirates face to face, and you have beaten them soundly; not in actual hand-to-hand combat, you understand me, but in wits, in sharpness and decision. Thanks to you and the information which you have given so clearly, we are in a better position now to attack these pests than ever before. But we are ignorant of the special precautions which they will take; for, rest assured, they will hear of this intended expedition, for their friends and sympathizers are everywhere, and Sarawak is not without spies who carry tales to the enemy. That being the case, they will make strenuous efforts to resist us, for they have existed for a century and more and no one has ever been successful in repressing them. For that reason they will fight the harder to beat us back, and as a careful leader, who desires to lose as few men as possible, I wish for fuller information if it can be obtained. You have once before been in disguise. Will you don the same dress again, and go to the Sarebus river in advance of our party, with the object of spying upon the pirates, and of furnishing us with a warning as to their intended movement?" For more than a minute did Captain Keppel keep his eyes fixed upon our hero, searching closely as if to see whether he would flinch at such a request, or show by a twitch of the lips, a wavering eye, or in some other manner, that the task was likely to be too much, and would make too great a call upon his fortitude. "Mind," he went on, seeing that Tyler returned his searching gaze unflinchingly and without so much as a tremor, "I make a definite request, a suggestion that you should undertake this matter, for I am well aware that you are the most fitted for it. But I realize the great danger to be incurred, particularly when I bear in mind the fact that you have a personal enemy in this rascally Dutchman, who has sworn to obtain your head; and for that reason, and because a task of this description is essentially one for a volunteer, I make no order. I do not, on the strength of my being the commander of this vessel, while you are a subordinate, tell you that you are to go. Come, think the matter over. Go to your quarters and discuss it if you wish, returning here in a couple of hours, when you will have had time to make up your mind. And recollect this, that should you refuse to undertake the task I shall not think the worse of you, for the adventure will be full of danger and difficulty, and will take you right amongst the pirates and amongst enemies from whom you were most fortunate to escape." Once more did the captain of the _Dido_ lean back in his chair while he gazed at our hero. But, had he expected to find any hesitation on the latter's part to accept the post assigned to him, he was destined to be mistaken, for not once had Tyler shown the slightest trace of fear. "I would have answered at once," he said, suddenly breaking the silence which he had maintained up to this, "but I have been busily thinking whether I could possibly do as you say, whether the disguise of a native of these parts would be sufficient, seeing that I am wholly ignorant of the language. But what I have done once I can attempt again, and I thank you, sir, for giving me the opportunity. I do not require to think it over, as my mind is already made up. I will do my best to obtain the fullest information, and bring you warning of the movements of the pirates. When can I set out?" "As soon as you are ready, my lad; and let me say that I admire you for giving a decision so readily. There are few who would undertake the matter, and, as I have said, not many who could make the attempt with as much hope of success as yourself. You will, of course, want a companion, for you do not speak the Dyak language, and might get into difficulties. Make your own selection and your own plans without reference to me, for you have shown such sense up to this that I can trust you to choose well. When you are quite prepared for the journey, come to me, and I will give you any further instructions which I may happen to have." "And perhaps it would be as well, considering the fact that Sarawak has many spies, to beg Mr. Richardson to keep silence on the matter," broke in Lieutenant Horton. "After all, a discussion amongst the other officers might find its way elsewhere, and spoil our young friend's chances of success." "And perhaps endanger his life," said Captain Keppel eagerly. "Quite right, Mr. Horton! and I thank you for the advice. Very well, my lad, return as soon as you are ready, and tell me then how you mean to tackle this matter. Remember that I leave it all to you, including the means by which you are to reach the Sarebus." With a bow and a hearty shake of the hand, which was repeated by the first officer, Tyler was dismissed, and at once walked forward into the bows of the _Dido_, well knowing that he would have no opportunity for thinking if he rejoined his comrades below. Behind him he left the two officers, still conversing eagerly, and wondering how this quiet young fellow, who had joined the ship in such strange fashion and after the most extraordinary adventures, would elect to carry out the matter which had been entrusted to him. "He is decidedly older than his age," remarked the lieutenant, "and I will wager that he carries the task through brilliantly. He has his head screwed on, and has a fine spirit. We shall see him charging at the head of our men before these pirates are done with, and I prophesy quick promotion for him. But I will leave you now, sir, if you no longer require me, for I may be able to help our young friend in this matter." While the commander of the _Dido_ remains in his cabin or on the poop of his vessel, restlessly trudging backwards and forwards, with his thoughts for ever bent upon the coming expedition and upon the precautions necessary to be taken, let us once more seek for Tyler in the secluded spot away in the bows of the ship, where he had hidden himself, well knowing that only there would he obtain that peace and uninterrupted quietness which would permit him to give his full attention to the journey which was before him. Seating himself upon the sprit, where it came in through the rail, he bent his head on his hand for the space of a few moments, while he rubbed his eyes as though the action would enable him to see clearly into the future. Then he turned his gaze in the direction of Sarawak, and let his eyes pass from hut to hut, from the so-called palace of Rajah Brooke, the great Englishman who had devoted himself to the cause of the Dyaks and of all people inhabiting that portion of Borneo, to the quaint and straggling street which cut through the main part of the town. Then, dreamily, and as if his thoughts were too much occupied to take in all the details, he allowed his view to cross a strip of jungle and fall upon a neat and orderly settlement beyond. Houses built of bamboo, and displaying many a flaring signboard in front, were clustered together in an orderly manner, while many a thin wisp of smoke curled into the air. And about the houses, engaged in the yards which most seemed to have attached to them, were numbers of figures, working for their living, at peace with all the world, and settled in this town of Sarawak as if they had been there for years. "Busy fellows," thought Tyler, suddenly attracted by the scene, and indulging in a closer look. "The Chinaman is a wonderful worker, and a very contented man. And I suppose that Li Sung is over there, having found his wife and child." He ceased speaking, and looked again with increased attention. Then he rose to his feet, and, leaning on the rail, stared at the collection of huts. "He is a shrewd fellow," he murmured, as though some thought had suddenly come to him. "All Chinamen are clever and cunning; and Li is thoroughly trustworthy. I will go across to him and chat the matter over." Conscious that the expedition before him was one which demanded no little thought, and that to attempt to carry it out hastily, and with little preparation, could only lead to misfortune, Tyler had determined to take every precaution, and make every necessary enquiry before setting out. "Then whom else could I go to who is better able to give advice?" he said to himself. "Li is a faithful fellow, and I believe is attached to me. He has suffered at the hands of these pirates, and he will be glad to see them exterminated. If I go to him he will be able to give me a hint as to a disguise, and I can rely upon him to keep a silent tongue in his head. I'll go across at once." To act upon this decision was the work of a few moments only, for about the _Dido_, keeping, however, at a respectful distance, a number of native craft always hovered during the day. To hail a sampan, therefore, was an easy matter, and very soon Tyler was being ferried to the shore. "I quite forgot to ask permission to go!" he exclaimed, suddenly recollecting that he was no longer his own master, and that he was subject to the discipline of the ship. "However, I dare say that they will accept my excuses, particularly when they hear for what reason I have gone. Ah! here we are, and a short walk will take me to the Chinese town." Leaping upon the little landing-stage which had been erected, he tossed a coin to the oarsman, for the paymaster of the _Dido_ had advanced him a couple of months' pay. Then he strode off towards the houses which he had seen from the ship, and was very soon in the street which divided the dwellings. "Where is Li Sung?" he demanded of the first man he met. "Li Sung? Ah, him comee here wid de Dyaks and de whitee man!" said the Chinee, using the curious pigeon-English which is common to men of the race who attempt our language. "Yes, you findee him dere;" and he pointed to one of the neat houses. "Li him velly sad." "Sad! For what reason?" thought Tyler. Then, thanking the man, he strode to the door of the house and knocked, entering as a voice bade him do so. "What is the matter?" he demanded, suddenly catching sight of a figure huddled in a corner. "Is that you, Li Sung?" At the sound of his voice the Chinaman sprang to his feet with a cry of delight, exposing, however, a face which was woebegone to the last degree. Then he darted forward and clasped Tyler by the hand. "Li am velly sad man," he said. "He comee through so much, and he lookee to de time when he comee home and meet him wife and child. But dey not here, massa. Dey tink poor Li dead, he stay away so long, and dey sail back to Singapore. Li all alonee!" "Then you will be able to listen to me, and it will do you good not to think of your trouble," said Tyler, taking him kindly by the arm. "You can help me if you will." "Den I listen, for Li am de servant. De massa am always kind to de Chinee boy. He no kickee and hitee him, and him bringee Li through wid de Dyaks. What does de massa say?" "That you can do something for me. Come, let us sit down and talk." Taking their seats beside one another, Tyler began to tell Li Sung of the task before him; then for an hour or more the two chatted in low whispers, the Chinaman asking many a question, and lapsing into silence, often for the space of a minute, as he considered the matter. "De plan do velly well," he said at length, with smiling features, which were a contrast indeed to the air of sorrow which he had worn when first his white master had accosted him. "De way to Paddi am open, and de Chinamen go dere velly easy. De massa am wise, for he tink of dis, and he say to Li: 'You comee wid me, and later on you havee money to go to Singapore.' Dat allee dat Li want, and him not afraid of de Dutchman." "I should think not!" exclaimed Tyler, delighted at the thought that he had obtained a companion who would be so useful to him. "As you say, the plan seems a good one, and I do not see why we should not be successful. All depends on the disguise, and upon whom we meet in the river. But we have been talking for long. Let us set about the preparations without further delay." Some two hours later, when the sun was overhead, and a hot haze hung over the water, a sampan was seen to be rowing from the creek upon the banks of which the Chinese town was situated, and was observed to direct its course towards the _Dido_. At first the marine who was doing sentry-go at the summit of the gangway paused listlessly in his weary tramp, glad of anything, however small, which would break the monotony of his hours of duty, and favoured the craft with a half-pitying gaze. Then he stifled a yawn, remarked upon the heat and discomfort of such latitudes when compared to Old England, and would have pursued his beat had not a second movement on the part of the sampan attracted his attention. "Well, that does for me!" he exclaimed, bringing his musket from the shoulder to the deck with a clash which startled the mid-day silence. "Making this way against orders! All these here blacks, and the China boys too, know well that the rule is that they are not to come alongside unless a chief or big gun o' some sort is along with 'em. And here's a sampan, with a couple of cheeky chaps aboard, making direct for us! Who knows? they might have a keg of powder aboard. Hi, you two monkeys! Clear right off, or I'll--!" He brought the butt of his musket to his shoulder and made pretence to aim. Then, as the Chinaman who occupied a seat in front of the one who was plying the oars rose to his feet and faced about, the sentry came to the rail, and leaned over it to inspect the craft and its contents more closely. "It ain't no use yer kow-towing," he called out, seeing that the individual who had just risen to his feet was bowing to him. "I tell yer that it ain't allowed, so clear off, and quick about it too." Whether the Chinaman understood what was said it would be difficult to state, but it would appear as though he did, for he at once thrust his hand into the interior of his capacious coat and produced a document, which he held above his head. "For de chief!" he called out. "Dis am a letter, and de man here and me comee to speak to de captain about de pirates." "Oh, yer've got a letter, 'ave yer? Well, sit tight there till I've called the sergeant," shouted the sentry. "Hi, sergeant, there's two China boys wanting to come aboard!" A few minutes' parley sufficed to obtain the necessary permission, and then the two Chinamen having been searched to make sure that they carried no arms and had no murderous intentions, they were allowed to mount the gangway and step upon the deck. "This way," said the sergeant, "and jest stop that 'ere kow-towing. I ain't the captain." Apparently it annoyed him to see the Chinamen bobbing there in that senseless way, for he turned from them with a scowl and led the way to the poop, where Captain Keppel was standing. "Two men to see yer, sir," he said, shouldering his musket in salute. "Two Chinamen, what says they've a letter for yer. Shall they come up, sir?" "A letter! Two Chinamen! Perhaps they have some information about the pirates!" exclaimed the commander with a start. "Send them up, sergeant." A minute later the two strangers were before him, to find that his chief officer had joined him, while both were staring at these intruders, no doubt wondering what information they had to bring. "Well, what is it?" demanded the commander. "You have a letter, and as far as I have been led to understand, you have some information to give me. Now, get along with the business, and do stop that kow-towing." At the words a half-hidden smile wreathed the features of the man who had stood up in the craft, and who had had possession of the letter. But in a moment it was suppressed, and, at once ceasing the bows with which he had favoured the white man, he drew the document out of an inner pocket and handed it to the captain. "Dat am de plan of de river Sarebus," he said. "Fo Sing knowee de water velly well, and Li Sung been dere many a time. De news in de town am dat de Englishmen am to go to de river to fight de pirate, and Fo Sing and Li Sung comee here to say dat dey willee go dere too, and take de news to de pirates. If we not go, den de news reach dem all de same. But s'posing we am dere, den we makee friends, we laugh and we eat wid de pirate, and one velly fine day we come away again, and tell de Englishmen allee dat we see." "Why, the man is proposing exactly what we had arranged!" gasped Captain Keppel. "But I must keep that to myself. What do you think of this offer, Horton? It seems uncanny that these fellows should have come at such a time. One really begins to think that they have guessed our plans." "They can hardly have done that, sir," was the answer. "But would not a second party be advisable? Then if one failed--you understand?" "Quite so, exactly, though I trust that there will be no mishap. But this fellow says that he has been to the Sarebus before. Probably one of the pirates, if one could only get at the truth." "Yes, that may be the case," replied the chief officer, with elevated eyebrows, "but a Chinaman will do anything for gold. Here, what are you asking for this work?" He turned to the spokesman of the two who had come aboard, and demanded his price, while he stared closely at him, watching him narrowly. "For me, nothing, sir. I shall do my utmost for the navy. For Li Sung, the Chinaman who accompanied me through a part of Borneo, and then down the Sarebus, he asks merely that a passage shall be paid for him so that he may sail for Singapore, there to rejoin his wife and family." In a moment the tones of the Chinaman's voice had changed, and the captain of the _Dido_ and his chief officer found themselves listening to the young fellow who had so recently joined them. In utter amazement they stared at him, only to find that he returned their glances gravely, and with never a smile, for Tyler was in desperate earnest, and had come aboard in this manner, not to make fun of those who were his superiors, but to test the effectiveness of his disguise. Seeing that matters had gone far enough already, and that, in spite of the brilliant light, and of the fact that Captain Keppel and Mr. Horton were so close to him, they had failed to recognize him, he at once spoke in his natural tones, so that it might become clear who he was. "What! Impossible!" exclaimed the commander, stepping forward swiftly and thrusting his face close to Tyler's. "Mr. Richardson in disguise! It cannot be; for this is a real Chinaman if ever I saw one. What do you say, Horton?" "It is wonderful. The lad would pass inspection anywhere, and has completely taken us in. I have no fears for him, for, dressed as he is, even the Dutchman will fail to recognize him. But what are we to do? It will never do to declare who is here, for the tale would fly round the deck, and our men would have it before half an hour had passed." "And the safety of the expedition and of these two might be jeopardized," cried the commander. "Come down to the cabin, Mr. Richardson, and leave your companion here with instructions to say nothing and to keep his tongue between his teeth." As if too dazed to say more, Captain Keppel turned about and led the way to his cabin, the chief officer following closely upon his heels, and Tyler bringing up the rear, kow-towing with the gravest of faces and the most servile of manners as they passed him. Once the door had closed upon them, however, the officers burst into hearty roars of laughter, and for some little time could do nothing more than stare at our hero and walk round and round him, closely scrutinizing his apparel. And well they might, too, for the special duty which was about to take Tyler to the Sarebus was one fraught with the gravest danger, and he was well aware that discovery would mean death. For that reason Li Sung had taken the utmost pains to transform him, and, thanks to the fact that on this occasion he was at home, and surrounded with all that was necessary for the purpose, he had contrived to provide a disguise which could not have been improved upon. Indeed, as he stood there in the cabin, Tyler was a Chinaman from his bald pate, with its dangling pigtail, to his thick-soled shoes. Nothing had been passed over, and so clever and painstaking had been Li Sung that the eyes seemed to be precisely the same as those possessed by the normal Chinaman. In short, as the interview upon the poop had proved, no one could recognize in the taller of the two Chinaman the young officer who had but just come to the ship; while even the leader of the pirates at Paddi would have passed him by without a suspicion that this humble individual, who seemed to find it necessary to kow-tow to every person of note or of the smallest consequence, was the Englishman for whom he sought, and whom he had last encountered in the guise of a Dyak chief. "Your acting is superb," Captain Keppel was at length able to blurt out, "and I must really congratulate you, Mr. Richardson, upon the excellence of your appearance. But tell me how you propose to proceed? Surely, if you go up the river as you are, they will think that you are a man of some wealth and will pounce upon you, for your clothes are better than those worn, as a rule, by the Chinamen here." "They are put on simply for the purpose of coming here, sir," replied Tyler earnestly. "If one of the country which I am supposed to represent had occasion to come to you, he would certainly don his best clothing for the purpose. But I shall take others with me, and once up the river I have but to strip off these outer garments and I become in a moment a coolie, one of the men who is to be come across in every part, at work upon the forest-trees, preparing a clearing in which to cultivate rice. The pirates do not molest them as a rule, though the Chinaman's fear of the former makes him keep at a distance from them generally. As to the river, sir, I shall act as circumstances demand, but my idea is to row boldly up to Rembas or to Pakoo and make friends with the pirates, with the idea of escaping later on." "It sounds terribly risky, my lad," exclaimed Captain Keppel, as though a feeling of remorse had suddenly come to him for having selected this young officer for such a task. "Do you think that it will be necessary to actually throw in your lot with these men?" "But, no--I will not interfere in any manner," he cried, after a moment's thought, interrupting Tyler before he could give an answer to the question. "I will leave the carrying out of the duty entirely to you, well knowing that you will not be impetuous, and that you have had an experience already which will be invaluable. You shall leave this ship when our chat is ended, and shall make your way to the Sarebus when and how you like. On your return to the _Dido_ I shall have something to say, and let me remind you now that we have appointed the island at the mouth of the river as a rendezvous, and that we shall sail there shortly after you have left us. Till we meet--the very best of fortune, my dear lad! As to getting there, I may say that the men who are looking after the prahus which you brought from the Sarebus will at once hand any of the vessels over when you show them this order." Stepping to a bureau, which was fastened to one wall of the cabin, the commander of the _Dido_ scrawled a few hurried lines, and then handed the note to Tyler. A second later the latter was kow-towing himself from the presence of the two officers, his fingers aching with the hearty shake and grip which each had given him. "A remarkably fine young fellow, and with wits!" exclaimed the captain. "He is an acquisition, Horton, and is as smart an officer as I ever came across." "And he is not spoilt by success, as so many would be, sir," burst in the lieutenant "He is always in earnest, it seems to me, unless skylarking with lads of his own age, and he is clever. Look at the way he acted. Why, even a moment ago he did not allow himself to forget his rôle, and I'll be bound that the marine on sentry-go outside has not the faintest idea who it was he passed on to the deck." That this was the case was abundantly evident, and had the door only remained open, those within the cabin would have quickly learnt the fact; for no sooner had the door closed than the sentry, an ill-conditioned fellow with a particular dislike to foreigners, grasped the Chinaman by the shoulders and hustled him on to the deck without ceremony. Then with a scowl and a "Git on with yer!" he went back to his beat, little thinking that his act was one likely to entail serious consequences later on. But Tyler did not allow his temper to be ruffled, and, hastening along the deck, soon joined Li Sung. A moment or two later they were passing down the gangway, and very soon the two officers, watching from the gun-port in the cabin right aft, saw a tiny sampan swing out into the stream and pull for the prahus which lay moored some little distance away. A strong pull and it disappeared from sight, leaving the watchers to wonder when they would see Tyler Richardson again, and what would be his tale when he rejoined them. CHAPTER XV Off to the River Sarebus Armed with the note with which the captain of the _Dido_ had had the forethought to provide him, Tyler made direct for the prahus which had been such a short while before in the possession of the men at Paddi, and, still acting the rôle of a humble Chinee, clambered to the deck of one upon which he caught sight of some British sailors. "From de captain," he said quietly. "Him say dat Fo Sing ask for one of de boats and takee him away a little." Tearing the letter open, the man to whom he had handed it read the contents with a puzzled expression, for he was no great scholar. "Deliver to the bearer, Fo Sing, any of the prahus which he may ask for, and do not question him," ran the lines. "Well, it's a rum order, and I can't say as I see what it's for," grumbled the tar, "but it's there, in the skipper's hand, and so it'll have to be. Which'll yer have, Johnnie? There's a number of sail here, and yer are to pick and choose. Jest look round and think a bit." But Tyler had no need to think, for already he had selected the one which he considered most suitable. And, therefore, he at once motioned to the small prahu with which the head of the schooner had been warped round when she lay at her moorings before the pirates' stockade, and indicated that that was the one which he would select. "Then you ain't greedy," was the answer, "and since the order's plain, you'd better skip with the craft as soon as yer can, else perhaps the skipper'll change his mind." This difficulty settled, Tyler with his companion, Li Sung, were not long in transferring themselves to the prahu, and at once, making their sampan fast to her stern, they manned two of the sweeps, and rowed the craft away to the creek from which they had originally set out. "De China boy dere tink dat we buy him, and so not talk velly much," said Li Sung as they arrived in the tiny harbour. "Be sure dat dey see us comee here, and dey wonder why and who you am. But I tellee dem dat you a friend from de coast, and that satisfy dem. I say dat we go on a trading voyage, and end at Singapore, so dat allee right, for dey know dat poor Li wish to go dere. We must be plenty careful, massa, for dere am bad men everywhere, and here am some who lovee de Dutchman and his pirates." "Then we will be very cautious," agreed Tyler, "and as I should be certainly questioned if I were to come ashore, I shall remain here till you have been able to do all that I have asked. Food we must have, and for that purpose you will row back to the _Dido_ when the night comes, and will take off a supply which will be prepared for you. Then there will be weapons to be fetched also, and another boat is necessary, for to enter the river with this would be madness. We shall want one of the river-boats, which are without decks and which are propelled by means of paddles. Here is money, and you must see what can be done in the matter. Return as soon as the sun falls, and then we will row out to the ship." Having moored the prahu to a buoy in the centre of the creek, Tyler lay down upon the floor and set himself to think, while Li Sung went ashore in the sampan to carry out his master's wishes. As for the latter, he had already thought the matter over, and realizing at length that no amount of cogitation would help him, for who could say what difficulties would confront him, he settled himself comfortably and very soon fell asleep, overcome by the closeness of the atmosphere. When he awoke it was near the hour of sunset, and happening to peep over the rail he saw a figure approaching him in a small river-boat which would accommodate two or three men, and could be easily managed by them. "Good!" he said to himself; "he has managed that part of the matter, and with that craft we ought to be easily able to ascend the river, particularly when the tide makes in. Now for the food and other things." Two hours later, when the sun had long disappeared and darkness covered the water, the prahu cast loose from her moorings, and was rowed from the creek with the river-boat in tow. Then, once in open water, her sail was hoisted and her head turned down the stream which led from Sarawak to the open sea. "There will be a moon by the time we arrive at the mouth," said Tyler as they swept along, "and we shall be able to set a course by its aid. After that we can take it turn and turn about to steer and keep a watch. How long will it take us to get to the Sarebus, Li?" "P'r'aps two day, p'r'aps less, massa. Me no tellee now. Allee according to de wind. Plenty same now, and if him hold, then we make de Sarebus velly soon. But better keep de silence, for dere am ships in de river, and p'r'aps de _Dido_ hail for us to stop." Following this piece of good advice, for in those days none were allowed to arrive in the river or depart from Sarawak without being challenged, Tyler, who was at the helm, directed the prahu for the centre of the stream, and kept her there till well at the mouth. Once someone sent a hail in their direction, but it was instantly suppressed, perhaps by the orders of those on board the _Dido_, who knew that their messenger must be leaving about that hour. After that all was silence and darkness till a gentle swell told them that they were at sea. "And here is the moon," exclaimed Tyler in tones of satisfaction. "We've a long sail before us, and so I propose that we at once settle the watches. You turn in, Li, while I take her on for three hours. Then you can take the helm. When day comes we'll pull into some creek, and lie up till night returns. Now, off you go!" With a nod he sent the Chinaman to the bows, where he at once lay down, and, accustomed to a hard bed and to his surroundings, promptly fell asleep. As for Tyler, he stood upright there beside the helm, wondering what was in store for him, and whether this expedition was destined to result in similar success to that which had favoured the previous one, or whether dire disaster was about to come upon himself and his companion. "In any case I shall do my best, and can a fellow do more?" he said. "If possible, I shall remain hidden from the pirates, and return without having given them a suspicion that they have been spied upon. But if that is out of the question, I shall go to Rembas or to Pakoo, and trust to luck. To hand myself over to the men at Paddi would be madness, for the Dutchman suspects everyone, and would soon get to the bottom of my disguise. Well, it's no use wondering, so I'll just jog along and be thankful that the night is fine." For three hours did Tyler maintain his position at the helm, steering a course parallel with the coast, which he was able to distinguish dimly on his right. Then, judging that he had done his turn of duty, he made the tiller fast and went to awake the Chinaman. "Your watch," he said, as he shook him. "It's a fine night, with a moon and stars, so you will have no difficulty in keeping the course. Wake me if anything disturbs you." Leaving the prahu in the hands of Li Sung, Tyler lay down in the bows and soon fell asleep, for by now he was hardened to an outdoor life, and had become so used to lying down to rest in a different and a strange place on every occasion, that nothing disturbed him or robbed him of his sleep; indeed, not even the prospect of the expedition before him could keep him awake, while the thought of danger and of difficulty produced no anxiety in his mind. "I must just do my best, and after all this is a duty for which I have been selected," he said to himself, as he curled his limbs on the floor of the prahu. "If all goes well, then it will be a fine thing, and no doubt the commander of the _Dido_ will be pleased. If we are captured or get into trouble it will be by mischance, and I shall probably not be alive to mind. In any case I cannot alter the future by worrying now, so I'll get a good long sleep so as to be fresh for to-morrow." With this resolution made, he closed his eyes, and, lulled by the sough of the wind as it bellied the great sail overhead, and by the hiss and swish of water alongside, he quickly lost consciousness, and did not awake till day was dawning. "Time to open de eyes," said Li Sung as he gently shook his young master. "Velly soon we able to see far, and by den dese two China boys better be hidden away out of de sight." "And the sooner we are in safe quarters the better," exclaimed Tyler, springing to his feet and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Over with the helm, and let us run in to the land. With a wooded coast before us we shall have no difficulty in finding a likely spot, and then we two--a couple of friendly China boys, as you say--will hide up for the day, and make ready to satisfy our appetites. Ah, the darkness is lifting rapidly, and there is the coast!" As he spoke he lifted his hand and pointed to a high-lying stretch of land, a strip of the north-western coast of Borneo, which had just come into view. "Good!" he exclaimed, noticing that it was thickly wooded down to the water's edge. "There will be ample cover there, and as it is just commencing to rain we are not likely to be seen by anyone. Give the tiller over to me, Li Sung, and go forward. If you post yourself in the bows you will be able to keep a look-out for shoals and rocks, and can shout a warning to me. Just pull in that sheet as you go, and we shall sail all the quicker." Grasping the helm, Tyler set the prahu in the direction of the coast, the Chinaman pulling in the sail till it stretched taut across the mast and allowed them to sail their craft close-hauled. Then, obedient to the order of his young master, he went forward into the bows, where, reclining at full length, he fastened his pigtail in a knot at the back of his head to keep it from trailing in the water, and then bent his gaze on the surface before him. "If massa puts de helm a little up we strikee straight for a small place between de trees," he said when they had sailed for some ten minutes through the driving rain. "Li see a creek dere, and he say dat if we sail de prahu right in, den we hidden, and no one see us, for dey all in deir huts just now." Following the direction indicated by his companion, Tyler pointed the prahu for the opening, which was dimly visible, and soon had the satisfaction of arriving within a few lengths of a rift between the trees, through which a clear stream of water was issuing. "A tiny river," he said to himself, "and just the place for us, for it will give us shelter, and at the same time will allow us to get our drinking-supply without leaving the vessel. Lower away that sail, Li, for the way on her will carry us in; and stand ready to make fast to a tree. I shall run her in till well out of sight of any who may happen to be cruising along the coast, though we must not go too far, and above all we must find out that there are no natives near at hand. Remember that secrecy is a thing which we have to think of, and our lives may very well depend upon how we observe it." "Li him knowee dat well, massa," was the answer, the Chinaman nodding his head at Tyler in a manner which seemed to say that he was a cunning fellow. "China boy not wishee to have de head cuttee off. He likee him life, and him can be velly silent when him want. But mind de rock on de side of de opening, for it am big, and de water rises about it." He pointed swiftly to a spot beside the exit of the river, where the stream frothed and bubbled against some unseen object and was heaped high in the air. But the caution was unneeded, for Tyler had already guessed the cause, and had seen the commotion in that direction, and, moving his tiller just a trifle, guided the prahu safely past the shoal. A minute later they were running up-stream, with a high bank on either side of them and a canopy of leaves and branches overhead. Selecting a likely-looking tree, our hero steered for it, and, seeing that the banks were soft and moss-grown, ran the bows into the mud close alongside. In an instant Li Sung was overboard, rope in hand, and within a very short space of time the prahu was tugging gently at her mooring as the stream made efforts to bear her down to the sea. "And now for a look round, and then for something to eat," cried Tyler, beginning to search in the lockers in which their provisions had been stored. "Boiled rice for the Chinaman and his friend, and a little besides. Cut away, Li, and take a look about you. When you return, the water will be hot, and you can complete the cooking." At once the faithful fellow dived into the jungle which grew close up to the edge of the river, leaving Tyler to make the preparations necessary for a meal. Nor was the latter long in setting about the matter, for his long sail had given him an appetite. Dragging out a kettle, which he filled by dipping it in the stream, he placed it upon an oil-lamp which he had had the forethought to bring with him, and then hunted for the rice, which was the staple food of the Chinaman who accompanied him. A frying-pan soon made its appearance, together with a second stove, and by the time Li Sung returned to the prahu a couple of rashers of bacon were frizzling over the flame, while the kettle was singing merrily. "De forest am alone, massa," said Li, as he sprang from the bank on to the craft. "Dere no one near, and we can live and sleep here velly fine. Ah, de water am boiling, and Li put de rice in! It am a good ting to eat in de morning." Thanks to the leafy covering which wrapped them in, Tyler and his companion passed a peaceful day, which was undisturbed by the rain which continued to fall in torrents. Nor did anyone come to upset them. As soon as evening arrived, and they had eaten another meal, they prepared to set out once more, and at once began to hoist the sail. "Not start yet awhile," said Li Sung, casting his eyes towards the entrance. "It still am light enough to see out dere, and p'r'aps dere am a ship passing. Wait, and soon we go. Li just run on shore again for a little bittee, and come back wid de coats which keep de rain away." Without further explanation he leapt to the bank and went into the jungle, where Tyler could hear him breaking branches down. Ten minutes later, as the sun disappeared and darkness began to fall, he leapt once more upon the prahu and presented his master with a mat composed of leaves and reeds which had been roughly secured together. "Dere," he said in accents of pleasure, "dat light, and stay on de shoulder easy, while it keep de rain away. Massa try him, please." Motioning to Tyler that he was to put his head through the hole which had been left in the centre, Li spread a mat over his own shoulders, the tail of the leaves falling well over the arms and body, but lying so loosely and lightly that the limbs could be freely moved. And thus equipped with a protection against the rain commonly used by the Dyaks, and known as a kajan, they cast off the mooring, and having hoisted the sail, stood boldly for the sea. Then, turning up the coast, they held on their course without interruption till the following morning found them standing in to the mouth of the river Sarebus. "And now we must be doubly cautious," said Tyler, as they ran the prahu into an out-of-the-way nook and lowered the sail. "No doubt pirates are about in all directions, and they will be familiar with those who live in the neighbourhood. For that reason they would want to inspect strangers if they happened to see them, and though we look innocent enough, and have a good tale to tell, yet the fact that I do not speak Chinese or the Dyak tongue is so much against me that I should always stand the great risk of being discovered; and if that happened--" "De pirate choppee de head," exclaimed Li. "Massa no need to tell him servant dat. But we havee velly fine tale to tellee de men of Rembas and of Pakoo, though Li not tink it safe for massa to go to Paddi, where de Dutchman am. We only poor China boys, who not likee de British and deir ships, and who am wanting money. We hear dat de white people come velly soon to fight de pirate, and we come ever so fast to tell him. We say we will fightee for dem, and when dey not lookin' we run away and come back to our friends. Oh yes! Li him see velly clear, and he say dat allee be well. But we must be plenty careful. What does de massa wish to do?" "Sit down there and listen. I will tell you in a few words, for we are at our destination now, and we must not delay. My proposal is that we make the prahu very fast, so that we may be sure that she will be here on our return. Then we will take to the river-boat and the paddles, and will row into the river, getting as far up-stream as possible before the day dawns. It is already much lighter, though I think that we can count upon a good hour longer. By that time, with the tide to help us, we should be some distance up, and shall, perhaps, have gained a position from which we can set a watch upon our enemies. After that all depends upon the pirates and upon circumstances. Come, bustle up, Li! Get out a gun for each of us, leaving the spare ones here, for we could not manage to carry them. Then we will take a bag of ammunition beneath our coats, for we may suddenly find that we require a large amount, and, of course, we must not forget food. There is a lot of cooked and preserved stuff which will suit very well, and for water we can rely upon the river. There, look lively while I see to the vessel." At once all was movement upon the prahu, for if Tyler and his companion were really to make a commencement of their task, and were to occupy a position of advantage before the day dawned and the light came to show them to the enemy, they must move without further delay. That both realized this to the full, and that their safety would now depend on their caution and discretion, was abundantly evident, for they set to work silently, but with a bustle and an energy which showed that their hearts were in the matter. Leaping to the shore, Tyler rapidly bent another cable in position, and lashed it to a tree, just as had been done on the previous night. Then a third was taken from the stern, and the vessel brought tight up against the bank. "That will do for her, I think," muttered Tyler, running swiftly over the knots to see that they were fast. "If she is found lying here, of course anyone can walk aboard her. But it would have been very difficult to moor her farther out in the stream, and even then a sampan would have taken the finder to her. And now for the river-boat." Going aft, he found that Li Sung had already provisioned the tiny craft, and was standing in the bows awaiting his master, with a rifle in either hand and a couple of waterproof bags of ammunition over his shoulder. "Li am ready for massa," he said simply. "Where am he to sit? Li wait for orders, and him will do just what him am told." "Then stay here in the bows," said Tyler shortly, "for you have keener sight than I have. When I have passed you, take the paddle and cast off the painter. But first, just sling that rifle over your shoulder. I will do the same." Suiting the action to the word, he and his companion were soon in position, each with a paddle in his hand. Then the painter was cast off, and at once the tiny craft shot from beneath the trees and out into the river. "The tide is still on the ebb, so we will keep in near the trees," called Tyler gently, as they swept away from the bank. "By doing so we shall have less difficulty in making good progress, for the current will be less swift. A glance overhead will always tell you whether we are keeping the right course, and as you will be the first to notice when we go astray, just call to me so that I may know it. Now, in with the paddles." Keeping time with one another, they sent the light boat up the stream at a good pace, and when an hour had gone had the satisfaction of knowing that they had made excellent progress, while half an hour, perhaps, of darkness remained to them. And now their course was shaped for the bank, for they did not dare to run the risk of being observed. Very soon they came to a part where the trees grew close down to the water, and here they remained till the day dawned, clinging to the boughs so that the stream should not carry them down again. "It is light enough to see now," said Tyler at length, "and we will push in and take up a position from which we shall be able to see without being observed by people who may be passing on the river. Lift the boughs gently, Li, and pull us in. That's the way. Now we are in open water again, though it is only a narrow stretch, and can use our paddles." Gently propelling the craft, they sent her on beneath the low-hanging boughs, and finally came to a halt when they had traversed about half a mile of the leafy avenue. And here they made fast with the painter and at once began to eat, for there was no saying when they would have another opportunity. Then they turned their faces to the river and peered from amongst the covering, being able to see right across the river. "We have a long row before us, and have need of all our strength," said Tyler, "and for that reason we will take it in turns to rest, for this night-work is very tiring. You lie down, Li Sung, and I will wake you later on." And so, whilst one kept watch on the river, noting the boats which passed, the other slept, the following night finding them both refreshed and prepared for the work before them. Issuing from the trees they once more took to the stream, and when the following day was at hand were in the neighbourhood of Rembas, the lowest of the piratical strongholds. "What is that?" demanded Tyler suddenly as they lay on their paddles, staring at the opposite bank, and wondering whether or not they were opposite Rembas. "I heard a sound behind us, and I am sure that it did not come from the bank." Both sat up and listened eagerly, only to turn to one another in perplexity, for neither could fathom the nature of the sound which had caused them alarm. "It is a curious hissing," said Tyler in troubled tones, "and as I said before, I am sure that it comes from the direction of the mouth of the river. But what can it be? To me it sounds like water." "Perhaps it am de tide, de sea making into de river," suddenly suggested the Chinaman in tones of alarm. "If so, we better row, massa, for de bore am terrible, and would fill dis boat to de top. Yes, Li have listened, and he not like de sound. Row, massa, or we be drowned." That Li Sung was alarmed there could be no doubt, for he had spent some time on the river in the service of the men of Paddi, and he well knew of the danger of the bore caused by the tide as it swept into the upper reaches. Indeed, at any other time he would have thought of the matter and would have warned his young master; but the fact that they were on a spying expedition, and that all their energies were devoted to keeping watch for the enemy, had caused him to forget it. Now, however, as the sound swept with great rapidity towards them, he recognized the meaning of that ominous hissing, and, turning swiftly to Tyler, urged him to row for his life. Plunging paddles into the water the two strained at their work, in the desperate attempt to reach the bank before the tide overwhelmed them. But they were too late to escape, and hardly had they gained more than twenty yards when the full strength of the bore rushed upon them. In the gathering light each saw a moving wall of water, some five feet in height, rushing towards them, and though at a shout from Tyler the bows of the craft were swept round to meet it, in the hope of riding over it, the oncoming water seized them in its powerful grasp, swung the boat round as if it had been a top, and then washed clean over it, upsetting it and turning it bottom upwards. As for the two occupants, they were torn from their seats, and carried on with the flood for some feet. A minute later they appeared upon the surface, swimming for their lives. "Make for the boat," shouted Tyler, striking out in that direction. "The bore has passed now, and the water is smooth; but the tide runs strong, and we must have support." Without wasting further breath he swam lustily in the direction of the overturned boat, and very soon reached it. In an instant he had slipped the bag of ammunition from his shoulders, and had placed it on the flat bottom of the craft. The rifle followed, and then, conscious that he was now free to help, he turned to see how Li Sung was faring. "He is drowning," he suddenly gasped, catching sight of the unfortunate Chinaman struggling in the water feebly, with head almost submerged, and a look of terror and despair on his face. "Hold on a little! Stick to it, Li, and I will be with you." Without hesitation he relinquished his grasp of the upturned boat and struck out for the Chinaman. A moment or two and he was beside him, when he at once clasped him by the shoulders, and, putting out all his strength, turned the unfortunate man upon his back. "Lie still and I will tow you to the boat," he shouted in his ear. "The rifle and ammunition are evidently too much for you. That's it. There is nothing to fear, and you will soon be safe." Fortunately for our hero, Li Sung, though near to the point of sinking, had still retained consciousness, and as soon as he heard Tyler's voice, lay perfectly still on his back, not daring to struggle lest he should ruin his own chances as well as his master's. A moment later he felt himself being gently towed through the water, and at once instinct told him that he could help by kicking out with his legs. "That's the way," sang out Tyler encouragingly, though in breathless tones. "Stick to the job and we shall be there very soon. Now, one moment while I turn you over, and there you are." The whole incident had happened so quickly that when the two found themselves clinging to the boat, and staring at one another in the gathering light of another day, they could scarcely realize how they came to be there, nor the fact that the bore had caught them in its terrible embrace and had overwhelmed them. For several minutes they retained their hold, while they looked about them with anxious eyes and panted to regain their breath. "A narrow shave," said Tyler at last, "and we are lucky not to be at the bottom of the river. But we cannot stay here, for the day has come, and we shall be seen. Come, rouse yourself, Li, and let us get to the bank. There should be no difficulty, for the tide is sweeping us there." "One little bit and Li be ready," was the answer, as the Chinaman gasped for breath. "Dis boy not be alivee at allee if massa not dere. Li say dat you save him, and he tank you. Now me ready. Which way, massa?" "The shortest road, and the quicker we are there the better, for I think that I see a collection of huts on the opposite bank, and it may be Rembas. Come, let me take your bag of ammunition and your rifle. Fortunately this boat has a flat floor, and the things will stay on top without difficulty. There, you are ready now, and so put all your strength into it." Thanks to the rest which they had had, and to the fact that they were so quickly able to relieve themselves of the weight of the rifle and bag which had weighed them down, the two were able to strike out lustily for the bank which was on their right, and, aided by the tide, were soon within easy distance of it. By now, too, the light had increased, so much so that they could see that the object to which Tyler had drawn attention was indeed Rembas, the home of a horde of pirates, and at once fear lent power to their limbs, and they sent the overturned boat rapidly on her way. "Kick with all your might," shouted Tyler, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. "If we can get to the trees within the next few minutes we may escape the eyes of the people over there, for the day has only just dawned. Send her along, for I tell you that our lives depend upon our exertions." That the Chinaman understood was evidenced by the manner in which he lent his aid to the task, and so lustily did the two thrust at the boat that very little time had elapsed before they had disappeared beneath the boughs which overgrew the water, and were standing upon the bottom. "Drag her to the shore and turn her up," said Tyler quickly. "Now, lift the ammunition-bags and the guns, and over she goes. That's the way, and now we are ready in case we have been seen." "Massa can knowee for sure dat dat am de case," cried Li Sung, with a shake of the head. "As we kick and push along Li turn him head and see men over deir, and him velly certain dat dey see him. P'r'aps dey tink dat it am fishermen only, but den dey not catched by de bore. Dey talk it over while dey eat de morning rice, and den some of de young men comee dis way to lookee what havee happened." "In which case we shall be discovered," said Tyler curtly. "Then we will make a fight of it. I am inclined to think like you, Li, and believe that in spite of our exertions we shall be followed. Curiosity will get the better of those people, and they will cross the river to see who it was who was swamped by the tide. We cannot possibly meet them as friends, for that was to be our last resource, and just now, with my disguise in this condition, I should certainly be discovered. So we shall have to keep them at a distance, and that being the prospect before us, I vote that we at once search for a spot suited to our needs. What about that rock over there?" He pointed along the avenue formed by the overhanging boughs to an open patch, into the centre of which a steep rock jutted. "It seems at this distance to be suitable," he went on, "for it has some bushes on it to form a covering, and it is not overgrown by trees. We should be able to get shelter by piling up a few boulders, and, while hidden ourselves, could tell the instant an enemy attempted to approach us." "Den let us go, massa," cried Li, "for me see dat a boat have put out from Rembas, and velly soon de pirates be here." Stepping into the boat they grasped the paddles and had very soon reached the edge of the trees. And here Tyler sprang ashore and dived into the jungle, for to have taken the boat out into the open would have been madness, as she would at once have stood out against the bank and have been seen by those in the boat which had just shot from the opposite shore. "It will do well," cried Tyler in tones of delight as he reached the back of the rock and closely inspected its surface. "I reckon it to be at least a hundred feet in height, and at the back it is almost as smooth as glass, while it is far too steep to be climbed, even by the most active of natives. Then, as I remarked before, the trees seem to have fought shy of this spot, probably because the ground about is rocky, and so there is a wide clearing all round. Yes, it will be a refuge, and if the worst comes to the worst we can hold it against the enemy. Now for the boat." Running back to his companion he beckoned to him to bring the craft close in, and then hastily issued his orders, for he realized that there was no time to be lost if they wished to take up their position on the rock. "We will run her up and then carry her as near to the rock as possible," he said. "By turning well away from the water we shall be able to reach a point from which we can move into the open without being seen, and there we can leave the boat if we wish, for she will be under our rifle-fire." "But at night de pirates burn her or carry her off, and den what will Li and massa do?" demanded the Chinaman. "Dere am no great weight here, and de two of us carry him easily." "Very well, then, we will carry her as she is right up to the rock. When she is there we can hide her amongst the bushes, and can carry up what provisions are left, though I fear that the majority of our supply has been washed away. But we shall see, and if we are pressed for food we can make a line with the help of a creeper, and a hook from one of the forest thorns, and do our best to catch a few fish. Now, up with her and let us trot." Grasping either end of the river-boat they lifted it upon their shoulders and went into the jungle at a run. Then, as soon as they had arrived at the point from which they were no longer visible to those on the river, for the rock rose up between them and it, they boldly crossed the open space and deposited their burden in a thick bush at the base. A rapid search discovered a bag of provisions which had escaped the bore owing to the fact that it had become jammed in the bows, and with this, their muskets, and bags of ammunition, they commenced to scale that face of the rock which looked out to the river, and which was so broken and irregular that it gave ample facilities for climbing. "Creep on all-fours and keep as low as you can," said Tyler in low tones, casting a glance towards the boat which was being rowed in their direction. "By that means we may escape discovery, and we shall be able to entrench ourselves. Of course I know that those fellows will track us, but if we are careful they will not know exactly where we are, and when the time comes for fighting we shall have the advantage of taking them by surprise. Ah, here is a likely spot! It is high up, gives us a wide flat space upon which to lie, and has an ample covering of bushes. Give a hand here, Li, while I pile up a few of these boulders." Placing their burdens upon the ground, and still taking the precaution to creep on hands and knees, they quickly arranged a number of boulders into a semicircle, piling them one on the other till they formed a wall which would give protection against rifle-fire, but through which the defenders could keep watch upon the enemy and return their shots. Then they turned to their weapons and carefully inspected them. "Two rifles and two revolvers," said Tyler, dragging the latter from beneath his coat. "And a knife, massa," burst in Li Sung, displaying a formidable weapon which was thrust into the cloth which he wore about his waist. "Then we ought to do well, Li. We will make an equal division, taking a gun and a revolver each. Now for the ammunition. How glad I am that the bags were waterproof! It was my captain's suggestion, and it may save our lives. We will open them and spread the contents in the sun. Then any dampness will be dried, and we shall have no fear of miss-fires." It took little time to make all their preparations, and ere many minutes had passed all four weapons were loaded, and their muzzles were protruding from the face of the wall, having been thrust through the embrasures purposely left between the boulders. As for the defenders of this solitary position, they had taken their posts behind the wall, and lay there, with fingers upon their triggers and eyes glued upon the boat, which by now had approached so close to the bank that the occupants were easily visible. "Ten of them in all, and a fierce set of fellows they look," said Tyler in the coolest of tones. "I see, too, that they have muskets with them, so we may expect a fusillade before long. But first let them find us and make up their minds that we are enemies and then the fun will begin." "Dey make no doubt dat we not friends," exclaimed Li Sung with an emphatic wag of his head. "Dey knowee dat no man enter de river unless he belong to de pirate. And if he am a friend he come straight to dem. But we not dare to do dat, and when dey see dat we reach de shore, and not try to row over to Rembas when de boat am floating again, dey knowee for sure dat we enemies. Velly soon massa will hear de pop of de gun, and den we havee to fightee. Li Sung likee dat velly well, for dese men am de same as dose who took him from him little wife and him child, and he hate dem." "Then you will stand beside me to the last," said Tyler, turning upon him and staring into his eyes. "Remember that we cannot save our lives by giving in to these people, for they are the sort of men who do not understand mercy. So to submit to them would merely be to bring instant death. For that reason we will make a big fight of it, and let us recollect that to do that we must hold our fire till they are climbing the rock, and then make every bullet tell. We need not answer a shot from their guns till they are close upon us, for we are out of their range, and the bullets will not pass through this wall. Once they attempt to rush us, however, we will let them have a volley and drive them back." "Yes, and Chinee boy makee de sling," cried Li Sung with a show of excitement which was strange to him. "You watchee, massa, and see what him do. When Li one little boy in China him killee de bird and beast wid stones from de sling, and he do de same for dese men. Lookee at dat." For once the stolid nature of this son of the East broke down under the excitement of the moment, and his usually impassive and wooden face became wreathed with cunning smiles as he spoke to his master. Then, with dexterous fingers, and with a rapidity which was wonderful, he tore a strip from his strong cotton clothing, folded it into a long band, and at once began to select a suitable stone. "Find plenty here," he said as he groped about, "and enough to last velly fine time. Massa watch dat tree over dere. Li hit him just above de water." Pointing to a durian which grew on the bank of the river, with its trunk emerging from the water, he placed a stone in his improvised sling, and raising himself till his figure almost showed above the wall and the surrounding bushes, he sent the missile hurtling at his target. Thud! Even at that distance the sound of its blow could be heard, while a splash immediately following told that it had fallen into the river. "Pirate not likee dat," he said with a smile of pleasure on his face. "Stone hittee velly hard." "And these boulders still harder," chimed in Tyler, delighted at the thought that they had at their feet a means by which they might husband their ammunition and yet exchange blows with the enemy should the latter see fit to attack them. "If they try to climb up here I will give them a few boulders while you tickle them with the sling. But, steady, Li, for they are now close at hand. Evidently they mean to look into the matter thoroughly, for they are making for the spot where we entered beneath the boughs. Then they will follow us up, and will soon come across us here. Keep out of sight whatever you do." Breathless with excitement, the two upon the rock watched the ten pirates by means of the embrasures in their hastily-built wall, and losing sight of them for some few minutes as they disappeared beneath the trees, soon saw them again as they too came to the part where the jungle ceased, and the open space intervened between it and the rock. "Sending men into the forest on our tracks," said Tyler calmly. "Get your sling ready, but remember, not a shot till I give the word." With fast-beating hearts the two awaited the reappearance of the men, and very soon they were seen running towards the rock. At the same time those who had remained in the boat paddled forward till they were opposite their hidden enemies. Then for some few minutes the two parties shouted to one another, for they were uncertain how to act. However, remembering that two alone had been seen in the boat which had been overturned by the bore, and that they were ten in number, the pirates decided to probe the mystery to the bottom, and those in the boat having landed, all came towards the rock with the evident intention of scaling it and capturing the fugitives. CHAPTER XVI Hemmed in "Wait while I call to these fools and order them to come to us," cried one of the enemy, as he and his comrades walked at a leisurely rate towards the rock near the summit of which Tyler and Li Sung were in hiding. "They are probably merely Dyak fishermen who have been washed into the river and swamped, and why should we take the trouble to climb for them. Let them come down to us." "But supposing they are spies?" demanded another. "We know that those at Sarawak, under the tuan besar (great chief--James Brooke), are about to attack us, and no doubt they will send some here to see what preparations we are making; not that we need trouble ourselves, for they will certainly be beaten. Still, of what use is it to call men who are spies, for will they descend and come to us like children when they know that within a minute they will be kneeling before us with their hands lashed, while one of our number stands above them with his sword and prepares to sever their necks? Call if you wish, but you waste your breath." "That we will see," was the answer, "but if there be no answer you shall be the first to climb, for I as the leader give you the order. Now, cease chattering while I shout." Stepping to a large boulder which lay near at hand he leapt upon it, and, placing a hand to his mouth, shouted at the top of his voice, telling those who might be hidden above to come down at once. "It is useless for you to remain," he said, "for we are ten while you are but two, and also there are hundreds to follow us. Come then quietly, for the end will be the same whatever you do. You are caught, and we claim you as our prisoners." "Let him claim and shout as much as he likes," said Tyler, with a reckless laugh, as Li Sung whispered the message in his ear, "I don't care to hand myself over; for the idea of cold steel and a severed neck is not enticing. We will just lie perfectly still till we are obliged to make a move, and then let our action be swift. See here, Li. I will raise this big boulder upon the wall just where this bush covers the front. Then, when one of the attackers happens to cross the line it will follow, I will heave it over and step back at once. You can pick one of them off with the sling with the same smartness, and perhaps they will fail to discover our exact position. Look out! That fellow is shouting again." Once more did the leader of the little band of pirates spring upon the boulder, the better to observe the rock, and shout a message at those who he was sure were in hiding there. Then, hearing no answer, he and his men put their heads together and once more discussed the matter. "We waste time," at last said their leader. "Finding that the dogs will not come to us, which perhaps is not to be wondered at, seeing that they have nothing to gain, but their heads and their lives to lose, we will go to them, and afterwards reward ourselves at the expense of their convenience and comfort. Come, Penchu, yours is the post in advance. Show us the way." For a moment it looked as though the dusky Malay who had at first proposed that the rock be searched would decline the honour thus thrust upon him, for he glanced above him, and then doubtfully at the bushes which grew in all directions, wondering which of them hid the enemy. But his comrades were there to aid him, and, besides, there were only two above, and they were undoubtedly half-drowned by their upset in the river. With a scowl at his leader, and a second glance above, he suddenly made up his mind, and drawing a kriss of large size from his belt, gripped it between his teeth and turned to the rock. "Follow me," he shouted, removing the weapon as he did so, "and this kriss to the man who can be before me in the race to the top. Mind, this weapon, which I had from my father, goes to the man who can reach these dogs and slay them in spite of my efforts. Now, I am about to make the attempt." He waited a moment to give his comrades time to take up the challenge and to draw their own weapons. Then he sprang at the obstacle before him, and, using both hands and feet, came clambering up at a rapid rate. Beside and behind him rushed his comrades, all eager to be first in the race, for the prospect of winning a kriss had the greatest attraction for them, while there was always the hope that one particular man would have the honour of slaying those who were in hiding. "Wait for the word," said Tyler, with difficulty restraining his excitement. "The time has not yet come, but will be here very soon. Are you ready? Then watch me, and as I lift the boulder take aim with the sling." It was hard work to lie there behind that wall and watch with calmness as ten fierce Malay pirates climbed to the assault, and more than once was Tyler tempted to give full play to his impetuosity and spirit, and commence the battle by flinging his boulder down the rock. But as yet the distance was so great that he might well have missed his aim, and for that reason he still remained in a crouching attitude, his hands clasping the boulder, and his eyes fixed upon the figures below. "Time's up!" he said quietly, when he judged that they were near enough. "Ready? Then fire!" Putting out all his strength he shouldered the piece of rock and rose from behind the bush. A swift glance told him that three of the enemy were directly beneath him, and in an instant, and without a trace of hesitation, he launched the missile at them, watching as it fell to learn what success he had. Crash! The boulder with ever-increasing pace fell upon a moss-clad spot some twenty feet above the pirates, causing them to raise their eyes in that direction and come to a sudden halt. Then, leaping as if it were alive, it cannoned from the place, and, twirling with frightful rapidity, flew into their midst, sending all three rolling to the bank below, where they lay stunned or killed by the impact. As for Li Sung, stealthily leaning over the barrier he selected the leading man, the one who had been given the post of honour, and, flourishing the sling about his head, suddenly let the stone free. Ah! more sudden than the boulder which had disposed of three of the attackers the sling sent the stone swiftly to the mark, and ere the Malay could cry out in dismay, or lift a hand to ward off the blow, it struck him full upon the forehead, causing him to toss his arm above his head and then roll to the foot of the rock a helpless and lifeless object. [Illustration: "HE LAUNCHED THE MISSILE AT THEM"] "That will teach them caution," said Tyler, sinking down into his old position and at once beginning to place another boulder upon the edge of the wall, "and I believe that none of them saw where the shots came from. We will play the same game again, though they will certainly discover us next time, for they will keep their eyes turned to the upper part of the rock, and will not do as they did before, and rush headlong and with their gaze bent upon the path immediately at their feet. Ah, they are having a talk, and do not seem to like the affair!" Peering through one of the embrasures he could obtain an uninterrupted view of the bank of the river and of the surroundings of the rock, and watched eagerly as the surviving natives, filled with alarm at the sudden misfortune which had fallen upon their comrades, turned as if with common consent and went rolling and scrambling down to the ground below, each eager to get to a place of safety. Then they gathered together at the edge of the water, and for a little time it looked as though they would take to their boat and fly to the opposite shore. But their leader restrained them, and at his orders they returned, and began to walk cautiously towards the foot of the rock. "We were scared by the suddenness of it all," said the man who was in command, a long, lanky Malay of forbidding appearance, who carried a kriss of unusual dimensions. "But we can never think of retiring; for recollect, my brothers, we are in better case than they, for they are but two, and are probably barely able to stand after their upset in the river and their struggle to reach land. Take heart, then, and first, before renewing the attack, let us take a look at our comrades who have fallen. For myself, I scarcely know how it is that they came to their end, for I was climbing with hands and feet, and with my eyes engaged in picking out the best path by which to reach the top. Then there was the thud of the boulder falling, and when I looked, three of our good friends were falling, while Penchu, who led us, had sprung into the air for all the world like a beast which had just been struck with an arrow. Come, let us move forward, for our comrades at Rembas would laugh us to shame were we to return and tell them that we had been driven off by two half-drowned Dyaks." Flashing his kriss in the sun he led the way to the fallen pirates, and turned each one on his back. "Dead!" he said as he looked at them. "Comrades, their end was swift and sure, as may ours be when the time comes. Now for Penchu. Ah, see! he was struck by a stone thrown with great force, for his forehead is driven in and the skull cracked. Then all the better for us, I say, for this proves that our birds up there are unarmed." "Which is just what one could expect, my brother," cried one of the number crowding about him. "Men who are caught in the bore are lucky indeed if they escape with their lives at all, while to do so they would certainly have to discard their weapons. We have them safely, and I propose that we make the attack again." "For what reason should we run the risk of having our bodies crushed with another boulder?" demanded another swiftly. "They are above us, that we know, though where they are hidden is another matter. Very well, they will have seen long ere this that resistance is useless, and that to prolong the fighting and kill more of our party will only lead to suffering on their part. Let that be pointed out to them, and I warrant that they will come down to us gladly and submit quietly to what is bound to follow even as surely as the night comes after the day." "A grand suggestion, and one which we will put in practice," exclaimed the leader, snatching at the chance of avoiding further danger. "Stand quiet, all of you, and listen as I shout to them. Above there!" Once more he placed his hands to his mouth, so as to make the sounds carry farther, and called to those in hiding. But there was no answer, though he repeated the words on four occasions. "Then I will say what I have to say to the rock, well knowing that they will hear," he cried, seeing that his call had been ignored. "Above there! You who are in hiding on the rock, and who have killed four of my men, I give you warning that we will kill you, as you deserve, if you resist us again. For the loss which you have caused your lives are forfeit, and I call upon you to come down to us and suffer the penalty. Failing that we will drag you down by the neck, and then you shall learn what it is to lose a life with difficulty. Come, we wish you no worse than those others whom we have captured on former occasions. Come down and let the matter be ended." It was strange to hear his quaint suggestion, and at another time Tyler would have been amused at the naïveness of it. But danger threatened now, and life was at stake. As Li Sung interpreted the message, word for word, a feeling almost of fear assailed our hero, and his heart sank at the prospect of early death. Then, remembering that he and his companion were as yet unseen, and that they might still do as well as formerly, his spirits rose, and he turned to the Chinaman with a smile upon his face. "We will lie like mice and make no move. At least that is what I say. For you, Li Sung, you may issue from our hiding-place if you wish, and descend. For myself, the idea of being beheaded is sufficient to make me fight like a tiger and until I am killed." "And for me, too, massa. De Chinee boy been wid de Malays, and he know dat dey not tink de same of life. A man am happy in dis world, but when him dead he happier still, so dey say. And when de time come for choppee de head, dey kneel wid a laugh on dem lips, and dey die easy. Chinamen am de same, but Li velly different. He not likee to lose de life, for he havee little wife and child in Singapore." "Then we will stay quietly here and await events. Those fellows will scarcely dare to return to Rembas and tell their comrades that they have been defeated by two men alone, and for that reason they will remain till they see that their case is hopeless. That will suit us well, for we can easily beat them off, and if only we can defer the arrival of reinforcements till night has fallen, we shall have a better chance of escape. But what are they doing?" Thrusting his head as close to the boulders as was possible, he peered through the narrow opening and watched the party of pirates with interest. As for the latter, the fact that their extraordinary demand had met with no reply, and that silence alone had followed, filled them with astonishment; for these Malays, with their comrades of the Dyak race who had thrown in their lot with the men of the sea in place of tilling the soil as did so many of their people, had a peculiar code of their own, and held life in such little esteem that, as in China, it was almost possible to buy a reprieve for one about to die by paying for a substitute. Fate was fate to them, and when all was lost, when sickness came, and when capture seemed imminent, it was a simple and an easy way to step forward to meet the inevitable, and to pass from the world with as little trouble as possible. Then was this not a desperate case? Could those above who were hidden on the rock hope to escape? Absurd! They were cornered, and sooner or later, and in any case within an hour or two, they would be captives, and their fate would be upon them. Then why go to the labour of putting it off? Why not come down and end the matter, so that these men might return to the opposite shore and prepare to meet the foreigners who were about to enter the river? Extraordinary though the idea was, it was in keeping with the upbringing of the Malays and the Dyaks, for they, like the Chinese, thought nothing of death, and met their end for the most part with a smile upon their faces. However, on this occasion the pirates had foes to deal with of a different stamp, and finding that no answer came to their warning, they collected together again to discuss the situation. "The day advances, and soon the noonday heat will be upon us," said their leader in tones of vexation. "Let us put an end to this matter at once, and then return to Rembas. It is plain to all that the dogs who killed our friend will keep to their lair till we hunt them out, and that being the case, we will rush to the attack again. Keep your eyes open and fixed well above you. Your hands and feet will be sufficient to allow you to choose a good path." He turned to look each of his men in the face, and then, seeing that none of them held back, he did as his dead comrade had done when leading the first charge, and having placed his kriss between his teeth came at the rock at a fast run, hoping to scale it rapidly. "Steady!" whispered Tyler, seeing that Li Sung had swung his sling about his shoulder. "Wait till they are upon us as before, and then let them have your stone. In any case we must try to avoid a shot, for the sounds would at once attract others from over the water." "Makee noise not matter," exclaimed Li Sung with a shake of his head. "De men of Rembas know dat dere am fighting, and dey sending oders to see. Velly soon Li and Massa havee de bullets about dem." As he spoke he pointed eagerly over the top of the wall to the river beyond, and a glance in that direction caused Tyler to give vent to an exclamation of dismay. "Three more sampans," he cried in accents of alarm. "And all filled with men. That will add thirty at least to the attacking force, and will increase our difficulties immensely." For the instant the same feeling of consternation as had assailed him before came suddenly upon him; and then, as he took in the situation, and realized the strength of the position which he and the Chinaman held, his face brightened, and he turned to look at the seven remaining men below with spirits as high as ever they were before. "Of course we are cornered," he said to himself, "and we are in a desperately tight place. But others have managed to do well under similar circumstances, and we shall do the same. After all, I think that we have much to be thankful for, for we might well have been drowned in the river, and then again, what luck to have struck upon such a spot as this! Why, fifty shall not turn us out, for after our escape from the bore I do not mean to be easily beaten. Ah, here comes the leader! and, foolishly for himself, he has chosen a line which I can reach. In a minute he will be hurled to the bottom of the rock." With courage renewed by his reflections, Tyler stared at the pirates, and watched as they slowly clambered up the steep face of the rock. Unlike the occasion which had preceded this attack, he was as cool and as collected as if he were on the _Dido_ eating his dinner amongst his messmates, and at once checked the Chinaman's eagerness to deliver a shot. "Wait," said Tyler shortly. "When the boulder goes you can fire, but till then remain behind the wall." Panting with their exertions, and led by the man who had first rushed to the assault, the seven pirates came clambering up the rock, their eyes searching every likely spot above, while they wondered which of them would be the one to sight the fugitives. Then, as they neared the summit without a sign of their presence having been come upon, and without a stone or boulder having been thrown, they began to doubt that they were still there, and halted to stare at one another questioningly. "Are the birds flown then?" demanded their leader, sitting down to rest. "Fools that we were, not to have set a watch upon the back of this rock, for while we have talked they have slipped away." "Not so," shouted one of his men. "I myself strolled in that direction, and I tell you that no living man could descend the rock on the farther side unless possessed of a long rope. They are here, above us, and we shall come upon them crouching in the bushes and whining for their lives." "Then forward!" cried the leader. "Let us make an end of them, but remember, they are not to die here. For the trouble which they have given us in thus climbing, for the loss of our friends, we must demand of them a price, and they shall pay it. Before they take their last breath they shall be sad at the thought that they did not fall in with our wishes when first we called to them. But let us not delay. Follow me!" This time with kriss in hand he came clambering up the steep slope, with eyes watching eagerly for some movement to tell him of the presence of the fugitives. But there was not so much as the tremble of a leaf, while not & sound broke the silence. A minute passed, and just as the Malay was about to call for a second halt, convinced that the birds were flown, a figure suddenly erected itself before him, and, half-hidden by an enormous bush, reared a boulder on high. Ah! The Chinaman took aim at his man with the utmost calmness, and then, ere the poor wretch could spring aside, or could shout in his terror, the mass of stone caught him on the breast and bore him backwards. A second and he was rolling and pitching on his way to the bottom, and even while his comrades were wondering how it had all happened, and were marvelling at the sight of the Chinaman, the unfortunate leader came with a thud on the bank of the river, and, rolling forward for all the world like a rabbit which had just been shot, came to a halt with face buried in the mud and limbs which were strangely contorted. Once more it looked as though the attackers would lose heart and fly for their lives. But, emboldened by the thought that they had at length located the enemy, they suddenly plucked up their courage and, urged on by one of their number possessed of more spirit than his comrades, they came panting and struggling up the steep slope, determined to reach the lair of the Chinaman and wreak their vengeance upon him. "A Chinaman!" shouted the one in advance. "We will swing him to the highest branch by means of his tail of hair, and we will spend the day and amuse ourselves by emptying our guns at his body. Fear him not, for he has boulders alone to hit us with, and those we can avoid by spreading out. Scatter at once, and be sure that none of you advance directly beneath the spot." Acting upon this advice, and warned by the fate which had so suddenly and unexpectedly overtaken their leader, the surviving Malays at once separated till wide intervals lay between them, and then advanced upon the wall behind which Tyler and Li Sung were crouching, at a pace which promised to bring them to close quarters before many seconds had passed. "One little moment," gasped Li Sung, peering at them over the barrier. "China boy soon stop de little game. He pick out de man who am in front, and he send him to join him brother. Watch de sling, massa." With deft hand and unerring eye, which showed that he had spent many an hour in practising the use of his weapon, Li Sung stood erect and leant over the wall. Round swung the sling till it churned the air into a high-pitched whistle. Then, as the finger loosed one of the strings, the band fell limply upon his wrist and hand, while the stone which had lain in the pouch flew down the side of the rock as if it had been fired from a gun, and, as in the former case, struck full upon the forehead of the Malay who had taken it upon himself to lead his comrades. Like an ox felled with the stroke of a pole-axe he collapsed upon the moss-grown path, and then, with nothing there to retain its position, the limp and lifeless body slid downwards, toppled over, and, gathering way as it went, rolled over and over till its further progress was arrested by the bank beneath. "That should stop them," exclaimed Tyler as he watched the body fall, "and it was a capital shot, Li Sung. I watched him, and feel sure that the stone must have battered a hole in his skull. But wait. Will they go after all, or are they determined to come closer to us?" Once again it was a doubtful point whether the Malays would retire on the death of their comrade, or whether they would push up the face of the rock and come to hand-grips with those whom they were attacking. Indeed, it wanted very little to cause their determination to waver and send them down to the bank, or to infuse fresh courage into their hearts and cause them to dash headlong at their enemies. They paused, looked doubtfully at one another, and then turned to watch the body of the man who had gone to the bank below. Then one of them happened to cast a glance across the river, as if to measure the distance in case he wished to make good his escape. Instantly his eye fell upon the three sampans which were being rowed across, and realizing that they must contain companions and brothers-in-arms who were coming to help, he shouted a few words to his comrades. "They will jeer at us," he cried, attracting the attention of all to the approaching boats. "When they learn that there are only two on this rock, and that we have failed to take them, they will bid us return to Rembas and mind the children and the flocks! We must capture and kill these beggarly Chinamen. Who will follow me?" For a moment he turned to stare at his brothers, and then, with flashing kriss in his hand, and eyes fixed upon the low wall with its covering of bush, he came clambering up towards it, ready to leap the obstacle as soon as he was near enough, and slaughter those who lay behind. As for the others, stung to the quick by the thought that their companions of Rembas would jeer and laugh at them, they turned with desperation to renew the assault, determined to die there rather than be dishonoured. "We need not fear them greatly," said Tyler quietly, as he watched them ascending, "for the rock is very steep, and we are placed at a great advantage. Remember that we may have to fight hard for our lives later on, and for that reason deal gently with the ammunition. I shall make use of these boulders as long as possible." Standing behind the barricade each selected a missile, Li Sung twirling his sling aloft and sending stone after stone at the Malays, while Tyler rolled huge boulders down upon them. But the pirates had learnt their lesson, and as they came they took advantage of every bit of available cover. Each hollow and nook held an enemy, crouching out of range of the stones and boulders, and with eye following every movement of the defenders. Waiting till they had need to select another missile, the figure would spring from the patch of cover and dart to another favourable spot higher up. And thus, with the cunning and stealth of an Indian, they came closer and closer to the barrier, till it wanted only a short rush to come up with it. "Revolvers and rifles!" said Tyler, seeing that stones were of little avail. "We shall be able to pick them off, and you will see how quickly they will scamper to the bottom. Look! there is the man who called to them to encourage them! He is watching you with the sling, and when you have let the stone go he will make a rush. Now, I have covered him with the revolver, so you can fire." Grasping his master's meaning immediately, Li Sung slung the missile at the Malay, and then snatched at the second revolver. As he did so the pirate leapt to his feet, and judging that he was now sufficiently near to reach the wall, and would be upon the enemy before another stone could be fitted, he came directly up the slope, discarding the boulders and rocks which lay there, and which would have afforded him cover. Snap! The report of Tyler's weapon set the echoes ringing, while the heavy bullet which his revolver carried hit the man plump in the chest, bringing him to an abrupt halt. There was a shout and a shriek as the pirate felt the blow, and then, summoning all his remaining power, he swung his kriss back over his shoulder, and taking rapid aim at the Chinaman above, sent the keen blade of steel hissing towards him. Next moment he had tumbled back upon the ground, where, clutching madly at moss and bush, he slowly slid to the bottom. As for Tyler, he had expected the man to fall dead at once, and started back as the kriss flew in his direction. But it was hopeless to expect to escape it, and ere he had time to dodge to either side the point of the blade struck upon his fore-arm, and, pressed onward by the weight of the metal, perforated the limb. "First blood to the enemy," said Tyler quietly. "A flea-bite which will do me no harm, but which will teach me to keep an eye upon their weapons. It was quickly done, and proved an excellent shot, made under the most unfavourable circumstances." "It am a velly lucky escape, massa," cried Li Sung, darting to Tyler's side and removing the kriss. "Li havee seen one fine man hit in de body, and de blade go right through him, so dat he fallee dead. Massa one velly quick, and if him not move one little piecee him dead too. Wait there while China boy ties up de aim. Nothing to fear from de pirate." Tearing a shred of linen from his coat, Li Sung rapidly applied it as a bandage to the arm, thereby arresting the flow of blood, which threatened to be free. Then he pointed triumphantly to the bank below, where the remaining Malays were gathered. "Dey velly angry," he said with a little snigger, the nearest approach to a laugh which this son of the East would indulge in. "Dey not knowee what dey do, and dey fear deir friends and what dey say. Velly soon Li and de massa have to fight plenty hard." The prospect of hard knocks and a desperate encounter seemed to please Li Sung, for he beamed upon Tyler as though this was the happiest day in his life. "Li havee been in nasty place before dis wid de massa, and he knowee dat allee turn out right. Massa Tyler bring him allee de way through de jungle, he lead Chinee boy and de Dyaks to Paddi, and den to Sarawak with de prahus. But dat am not allee. Him save Li when de water nearly cover him, and now him lies beside him servant and helps him to make de Malays run." "Then you think that we shall be hotly engaged before very long," said Tyler, staring down at the pirates below. "It seems to me that we are cornered, and that we shall be lucky if either of us see the _Dido_ and Sarawak again. Not that we are going to be beaten easily, for we have a splendid position, and will make the most of it. During the day we can beat our enemies off, but at nighttime it will be a different matter. Then they will creep to the top like so many snakes, and before we can deal with them they will rush upon us. We shall have to go once the darkness falls, and it becomes a question as to how the retreat is to be carried out." "Plenty easy to creep down de rock in de dark till near de bottom," said Li Sung thoughtfully. "De Malays climb up de hill, and we go down. Dey not knowee, and we not knowee. Dey rush to dis wall with deir krisses in deir hands, and massa and him servant slip away in de dark into de jungle. Who am to stop dem?" "A splendid idea, and one which we will follow," exclaimed Tyler with enthusiasm. "The matter had troubled me very much, and I was wondering what we could do, for I am sure that to remain here once night has come will be to lose our lives. But this is a plan which will meet the case. They will crawl here in the hope of falling suddenly upon us, and we will slip down. If we meet, all the worse for our plan, though I fancy that in the confusion we could make good our escape. If not, we gain our object, and they reach this lair to find the birds gone. Pick up your rifle, Li, and let us teach the rogues that it is death to come close to the rock." Determined to keep the enemy as far away as possible till evening fell, Tyler and his companion disposed themselves upon the ground, and with their weapons resting upon the piled-up boulders took steady aim at the pirates. As the three boats arrived, and were drawn up on the bank, they sent two bullets amongst the assembled natives, with the result that a couple tumbled on their faces, while the remainder separated with cries of indignation and surprise. But they were not permitted to enjoy more than a moment's peace, for very shortly another shot rang out in the still air, and a huge Malay, who seemed to occupy the post of chief, and about whom the men had been gathered, gave vent to a shriek, and, plunging forward on the edge of the river-bank, went splashing headlong into the water. "A long shot, but I gave a little elevation, and aimed for the centre of his shoulders," said Tyler to himself. "That will give us breathing-space. Now, Li, I am hungry, and, as we always say in England that a man fights better when he has had some food, we will open that bag and see what there is to eat. We can keep a watch upon those fellows as we have our meal, and can plant a shot amongst them whenever necessary." It was wonderful to see the calm manner in which the two sat down to their meal, the Chinaman contenting himself with some rice which they had had the forethought to have boiled before setting out on their expedition, and Tyler directing his attention to some biscuit and meat, which formed part of their store. Of water they had none, but that mattered very little at the moment, for they had been chilled by their upset in the river, and, though hot, the sun had done little more than warm them, without inducing thirst. But the lack of something with which to moisten their lips made retreat from the rock all the more essential, and as they ate they discussed the matter eagerly. "It is our only chance," said Tyler thoughtfully. "To remain here till to-morrow will mean certain ruin, for we should be parched with thirst, and then again, our ammunition will not last long enough. That is why I have suggested keeping the enemy at bay now, and making good use of our weapons. But there is a point which we have not considered. Once we are down below, which direction are we to take? Are we to steal one of their boats or make into the jungle?" "The last, massa," said Li Sung. "Den, later on, we steal down upon de bank, and we take one of de sampan and sail for Sarawak." "And what about our orders?" demanded Tyler with some warmth. "After coming all this way, and being almost drowned in the river, I am not going back with my tail between my legs and with no information to give. Not a bit of it. I shall stay near Rembas and do my best to spy upon them. Then, if you like, I will drop down to the mouth of the river and wait there for the expedition to arrive." "Massa am de chief, and he say what we do," said Li Sung, with a shrug of his ungainly shoulders and a look of resignation. "If him say dat we go and be killed, Li havee to obey. But me not likee dis stay in de river. Me plenty much afraid." "Then you are a foolish fellow," exclaimed Tyler angrily, for he was determined not to be thwarted in his attempt to learn tidings of the pirates, and in what he considered a duty, for which he had had the great honour to be specially selected. "If you don't like to stay, go back by yourself, though I shall be sorry to lose you. I have firmly made up my mind that I remain in the neighbourhood till I have satisfied my curiosity. But watch those men below. Something seems to have upset them." At once both stared eagerly over their barricade, and saw with some concern that the pirates had collected at such a distance that they could not suffer loss from the bullets of the defenders. And there, grouped about the one who was in command, they stared out into the river with their eyes fixed upon a tiny object which was approaching. "A swift sampan, and one dat brings de orders and de news," said Li Sung with the assurance of one who was well acquainted with the facts. "De man who am chief in Rembas havee one of de long tubes through which de white man lookee wid de eye, and he see allee dat havee happened. He send to dem to say must take de Chinamen. Well, we see to dat when de time come." "We shall have something to say, I have no doubt," agreed Tyler, "and we must not spare a man. It will be a case of rapid shooting and loading. Here, let us arrange the ammunition in a handy form, so that there will be no loss of time in sorting, and so that we can ram a charge in without delay. Now, what is their next move?" By now the narrow sampan which they had seen flying across the river, propelled by a dozen lusty oarsmen, had reached the bank, and had deposited there a Malay of forbidding appearance. That he was a man of some consequence was evident, for they showed him every deference, and, after listening to a short harangue which he delivered, followed him with loud shouts towards the rock. "He will lead them, and we shall have to fight," said Tyler with a calmness which astonished himself. "Fire quickly, Li, and see that you do not miss, for we want to show them that to approach the rock is dangerous. Then they will put off the real attack till darkness has fallen, and will aid us in our plan." That strict orders had been received to capture the insolent foreigners who had dared to come into the river Sarebus, and who had suffered shipwreck there, was plainly to be seen, for now that they had a new leader the pirates ran towards the rock with shouts of exultation, and, unmindful of the warning which they had already received, commenced to climb it in scattered knots and groups, evidently with the intention of approaching the wall from many quarters and so annihilating the defenders. But they had a couple of marksmen to contend with, for Tyler had had sufficient practice by now to make certain of his man, while the Chinaman's trained eye only required the steadiness which his young leader constantly urged upon him to enable him to hit the mark on every occasion. "Not a shot to be thrown away, just remember that," exclaimed Tyler sternly as the pirates came running along the bank. "Pick out your man, follow him for a second, and then press the trigger gently." Almost at once his own weapon snapped, and the man who ran just behind the leader doubled up and rolled in a heap. "A little high," said Tyler calmly, "but otherwise straight enough. We will see what this will do." Once more he brought the weapon to his shoulder, and was about to press the trigger, when the Malay at whom he aimed disappeared in a hollow and caused him to pick out another man. But Tyler was not so easily to be put off, and conscious that a blow at the leader would have far more effect than one at his followers, he watched till the big Malay again made his appearance. His rifle snapped instantly, and the pirate fell upon his face, where he lay without a move. "A few more like that and they will run," shouted Tyler. "Pick off those in advance, so that their comrades may see them fall. That will make them afraid, and they will soon hang back and long for shelter." That his advice was good there could be no doubt, for nothing is more demoralizing in such an engagement than for those who are attacking in the open, and advancing up a hill, to suddenly find the lifeless bodies of their comrades rushing past them, or to be swept away and carried to the ground below by the weight of one tumbling upon them. At once the prospect of a similar fate cools their ardour, and if they be not filled with courage and determined upon victory they are apt to retire in disorder. And so, neglecting those who clambered in rear, Tyler and his companion fired as rapidly as possible on those who were in the forefront, sending man after man rolling to the bottom. Then, as the attackers clustered together on the hill-side, attracted unconsciously by the thought of mutual protection and aid, our hero suddenly relinquished his weapon, and, with a shout to Li Sung to do the same, began to toss boulders down upon the enemy. Nor did he have to continue long at the task, for very soon the pirates turned with shrill cries of dismay and went sliding to the bottom, where they took to their heels and did not stop till they had put a safe distance between themselves and the defenders. "That will keep them quiet for a time, and if only they will remain inactive till the darkness falls we shall be safe. Come, help me to build up the wall again and gather a store of boulders." Without taking the trouble to crouch, for they knew that the pirates had seen them, Tyler and his companion set about the work, and having accomplished it sat down to rest, waiting impatiently for the night to come when they would put their plan to the test and do their utmost to escape from a trap which might well prove disastrous. CHAPTER XVII Danger and Difficulty Twice in succession did the collection of Malays and Dyaks who composed the attacking force endeavour to overcome the gallant defenders of the steep rock beside the bank of the river Sarebus. And on each occasion the leader of the gang who had their quarters in Rembas sat at his leisure before his hut on the opposite side of the water, and with glass fixed to his eye watched the fighting with interest. "They are curs," he cried at last, when the final attempt to reach the barricade above had been defeated, "and as a punishment I swear that no help shall come to these dogs of mine till they have these two strangers in their hands. Are they not two only, while my men number twenty times as many? Then they shall stay till all are killed or until they can bring me tidings of their success. But I will send them a message to the effect that if they allow the enemy to escape I shall vent my anger upon them. Yes, I will warn them that the attempt must be made, and will say that if it prove too much for them then they shall suffer." With this resolution before him the leader of the Rembas pirates despatched a boat to the farther bank, and with it one of his chief men, with instructions to give his message and then return. "You can say that no food or drink shall be sent till they have captured these men, and that it will be better for them to die on the side of the rock than to return here unsuccessful," said he, as the man set out to do his bidding. "It is absurd to think that so many of my men are defied by a couple of natives from China!" "A messenger," said Tyler, who caught sight of the sampan as it shot out into the stream. "Will it recall these men, or will it bring news that reinforcements are to come?" "Not dat, massa," answered Li Sung with assurance, accompanying the remark with the customary shake of his head, as if to add emphasis to his words. "Dese pirates tink dey knowee how to fight, and de leader over deir say dat not a man comee to help till we taken. He tell dem to takee plenty care unless we slip away. Dat all he comee for." "Then we shall have to be doubly cautious," said Tyler, "and I'm going to set myself to work to think out the matter, for escape we must. In an hour it will be dark, so that we can count upon that time in which to make up our minds, and I think that we are not likely to be disturbed. Unless, of course, the message which is coming to our attackers rouses them to fury, and they throw themselves upon us again. Now, how could we manage to get away?" Throwing himself upon the ground he fixed his eyes upon the figures of the enemy beneath, and watched them half listlessly while he endeavoured to find a means whereby he and Li Sung could slip from their retreat and get safely away. "It must be done," he kept murmuring to himself. "For to-day this has been the very best of havens, but to-morrow it will be untenable, for thirst will be our greatest enemy, and up here we have no means of satisfying it. So leave we must, at the risk of our lives. By Jove!" "Massa keepee plenty quiet," cried Li Sung at this moment, suddenly pointing to the bank beneath. "De messenger havee come, and Li tink dat some little game be played. What for dey light de torches?" He asked the question with a puzzled expression on his face, and pointed again with a long lean finger to some figures which could be seen flitting about amongst the jungle. That they were the pirates was perfectly clear, though for what reason they ran hither and thither, while some of their number advanced with flaring bundles of some material in their arms, was a matter of some difficulty to determine. "I have it!" exclaimed Tyler at last, having watched them carefully. "They find that we are prepared to make a fight of it, and as you have said, the message from the other side has made them determined to try again before the darkness falls. They know that we should shoot them down when they had gained the rock, and that we have boulders ready for them, so they have thought of another way of beating us. Some fellow amongst them has his wits about him, for he has pointed out to them that though there is a clear space round this rock, yet bushes crop out from one side almost to the edge of the jungle which surrounds us. Those same bushes are continuous with the ones by which the rock is clothed, and there are sufficient here to roast us. Do you follow now?" "And de men over deir?" demanded Li Sung thoughtfully, after having maintained silence for more than a minute as he puzzled over the matter. "They have been cutting and collecting reeds and long, dry grass. There is no difficulty about that, for beyond a day's rain we have had very hot weather of late, and everything is dry. They have made the grass and reeds into bundles, and you can see that they are running forward with them and are tossing them down in a line from the jungle. It will require very few indeed to reach the belt of dry bushes which joins those upon the rock, and then--" Tyler did not finish the sentence, but began to reach for his rifle, and place a pile of ammunition close to his hand. "We must stop them," he said sternly, "or else we shall be roasted and smoked like pigs. Get your weapon, Li, and let them know that we can reach them; for I tell you that if the bushes here are set alight this place will be impossible. The flames will flare all round it, and there are sufficient leaves about to cause the densest of smoke, which would choke us." That he had not overstated the case was abundantly clear to the wily Chinaman, and once the latter's cunning mind had grasped the meaning of the movement below, and he had become alive to the danger of the situation, he set about the defence of the rock with alacrity. Snatching at his rifle, he rested it upon a boulder, and peered amongst the stones, awaiting an opportunity for a shot. As for Tyler, his weapon spoke out almost instantly, and one of the dusky figures which was loaded with a bundle of reeds fell forward into the jungle, while those who were near at hand ran to a place of shelter with a howl of dismay. "One," said Tyler quietly, replacing the charge. "I can see that those fellows are scared, and that they fear our guns. We have shown them that when we fire we hit the mark as a rule, and it will be disconcerting to them to discover that we have them still in range. However, I have little doubt that one of their number will pluck up courage before very long, and will make a dash forward. In that case we shall be unable to stop him." For half an hour the pirates hidden below in the jungle, or watching the rock from a safe distance on the bank of the river, made no further movement. Then a flaring light suddenly appeared amongst the trees, attracting the attention of the defenders of the rock and occupying all their thoughts. "Some fellow about to make a rush," thought Tyler. "Keep your eye on him, Li, and fire when you see him run. Ah, there he is moving, but only to one side! In a few moments he will make up his mind to risk it, and then there will be a rush, and we shall have to do as well as we can." Twice or three times was the blazing mass moved to a different part of the jungle, on each occasion causing alarm to Tyler and his companion, and making them think that the moment had arrived when the man who had charge of it would summon all his courage, and, determined to risk the bullets of the defenders, would dash out into the open, with the object of crossing the narrow space which stretched between the jungle and the straggling line of bushes which extended from the base of the rock. With rifles at their shoulders, and eyes glued to the sights, they watched, ready to pull the triggers the instant they sighted the man. Then of a sudden each gave vent to a startled cry, and, swinging round to the left, emptied their weapons at the retreating figure of a man who had run out from an entirely different point, and, safe in the thought that the attention of the defenders was occupied in another direction, had dashed at the bushes and flung a mass of blazing reeds upon them. "Cleverly done, and the man deserves to escape," cried Tyler, seeing that both he and Li Sung had missed the mark. "It was an artful ruse, and we were taken in. It just shows that they have a fellow down there who has sharp wits, for by attracting our notice to one part of the jungle they made the task of setting the bush on fire possible. But what are we to do? Sit still and be roasted or smothered by the flames and smoke, or descend the rock and make a fight of it?" "That no savee us, massa," exclaimed Li Sung. "We dead all de same, and de pirate takee de head. Li say stay here a little bittee and see which way de wind blow. P'r'aps it send de fire along de rock and not reach us." "There is no use in thinking that that will happen," replied Tyler, "for there is hardly any breeze just now, and once well alight the bushes will burn up in this direction. What about the top? Surely by hanging over the other side we might escape the heat and smoke." As he spoke he turned and stared at the summit of the rock, which cut clear and sharp across the sky, showing a thin ridge on the farther side of which the mass fell away abruptly, forming a slope which was so precipitous that no one could hope to retain a footing. "If we could get over there we should be safe for a time," he said to himself, "and the enemy could not reach us with the poor muskets which they possess. We will wait and see how the fire goes, and then, if necessary, we will retreat to the top. Now how could we manage to retain a position there for a time? Our strength would soon give way if we had to cling with our hands." Unconsciously he asked the question aloud, and as if it had been addressed to him the cunning Chinaman turned and answered it without the slightest delay. "Massa havee saved de China boy more dan once," he said in grateful tones. "Him catchee Li Sung by de coat when him almost smothered wid de water, and now him show how both keep away from de fire. Li say dat we hang on de oder side easy. We take de cloth from de waist and make him into a loop. Den we put de leg into him and sit dere easy till de flames havee gone. He, he, he! We not catched yet by a velly long way." The prospect of dangling over the steep cliff seemed to afford this son of the East the greatest satisfaction, for again he beamed upon his young leader, while he whipped the cloth from about his waist, and with a deft twist fashioned it into a loop. At the opposite end he formed another, and then twisted the material on itself till it had the appearance of a rope. "Plenty fine and strong," he said, holding it up with pride. "De one end hang on a rock or de stump of a bush, and de oder for de leg." "I believe you have thought of the very thing," exclaimed Tyler in delight. "With a sling like that we could sit all day long and never tire. We will wait till the heat gets too great for us and then we will retire. Get hold of your share of the ammunition and food while I take mine. Now, how is the bonfire going." He almost laughed as he spoke, but a moment later his face wore a serious expression, for though but little time had elapsed since the man below had so daringly set fire to the bushes, yet the hot sun overhead had dried the wood till it was like tinder, and scarcely had it felt the flame than it flared in all directions. Then, as if there had been a train of powder laid beneath, the conflagration spread almost as fast as a man could run, for all the world like the veldt fires in Africa, and, sweeping along the straggling line, quickly reached the base of the rock. And here, with abundant material before it upon which to vent its power, the flame spread to either hand, and thence came marching up the steep rock, fanned by a gentle breeze from the river. Like an army in straggling array it swept the rock before it, and halting here, falling back there for an instant as it met with a bush of more succulent wood, which defied its power on account of its moisture, it came staggering upwards, ever upwards, roaring as it went, and sending forth dense masses of blinding, hot smoke. Very quickly the bushes which grew just below the retreat in which Tyler and the Chinaman had taken up their station were singed and frizzled by the heat, while they themselves were driven backwards. A minute and they were racing up the steep slope, madly eager to escape from the fire and get to a safe distance. "Here is a clear spot with only one strong bush growing," gasped Tyler, as they reached the summit, halting at a spot which was clear and bare of growth save for a solitary bush. "Out with your knife, Li, and hack it down. That's the way. Leave enough to fasten our slings to." Desperately and in all haste did the Chinaman carry out the order, for a hot wave fanned his cheek, and a cloud of smoke and sparks told him that he had no time for delay. In a few minutes, therefore, he had lopped off the greater part of the bush, leaving the base of it alone. And to this, thrusting their slings over the gnarled and twisted root till they were close to the ground, did the two suspend their weight, hoping that it would not fail them and send them tumbling to the ground beneath. Meanwhile the pirates below had watched with eager eyes as the fire advanced, and set up a babel of discordant shouts as they saw the two figures above forced to retreat. With loud and discordant yells they followed their course to the summit of the rock, and then, as they watched and noted the methodical way in which the bush was lopped off and the slings attached, a doubt, and fear that after all they were to be beaten in this, their final attempt, assailed them. With a shout of indignation and annoyance they raced through the jungle to the back of the rock, and, arrived there, stared up at Tyler and Li Sung, who swung easily at their posts, their weight supported by the slings, while they prevented their bodies from swaying too much by grasping the edge of the rock with their fingers. Instantly a fusillade was opened in their direction, the bullets for the most part falling short, or pattering harmlessly against the rock. A few, however, struck with resounding thuds, warning Tyler that a blow from one, while it would not penetrate perhaps, would be likely to stun the one who was hit should it happen to come in contact with his head. "We must put a stop to that game," he said suddenly. "They seem to have forgotten that we, too, are armed, and we must remind them. Just place your hand on my shoulder to steady me, and I will give them a shot. That's the way. Now I can lift my rifle without swinging round and running the risk of toppling over." That the precaution was very necessary both could see, for, suspended as they were, with one leg thrust through the sling till the latter gripped them about the thigh, the greater part of their weight was above the point of support, and had it not been for the grip which each had obtained on the edge of the rock they would have run the danger of capsizing and slipping from the sling. It was a matter of some difficulty, therefore, to make use of a weapon, but with Li to help him Tyler contrived to get his rifle to his shoulder. Then he calmly selected the nearest of the pirates, and just as the latter was about to fire at him, he pressed the trigger and sent his bullet into the man. "See how they scamper away," he cried with a laugh, as the Malays took to their heels. "We shall not be troubled again by their firing, I fancy, and very soon darkness will hide them from our view. I suppose that it is not possible to clamber down this side, for it has suddenly struck me that the rock will be very hot on the farther slope." Both looked well about them before deciding upon the matter, and searched the steep face upon which they hung with the hope that they would be able to discover some ledge, a few projections perhaps, which would afford a means by which they would be able to reach the ground below. But a goat could not have hoped to retain a footing there, for the rock might very well have been cut with a knife, so smooth and unbroken was its surface, and so precipitous was its slope. Therefore both gave up the idea, and at once prepared to clamber over the ridge once more. "We have been here a quarter of an hour, and at the rate at which the flames were advancing I imagine that the fire will have burnt itself out by now," said Tyler, as he attempted to peer over the top. "How lucky for us that we had this place to retreat to, and that the edge of the rock kept the heat and smoke away! But for that we should have been stifled, and should have rolled in a helpless condition to the bank below. But I fancy that there is very little smoke now, and when I have waited ten minutes longer I shall hoist myself up, and see what is happening. After that we can sit on the very top and wait for the rock to cool." The time he had mentioned having at length passed, Tyler hoisted himself with all gentleness by means of the sling, and peered over the summit of the ridge, to find that the farther side had been swept clear of all bushes, and lay blackened and smoking below him. Here and there a tiny flame still existed, feeding upon the underwood beneath some mass of vegetation which had been of large proportions. But for the most part the fire was gone, while the smoke was disappearing every minute. Of the pirates there was no sign at first, but as Tyler's head appeared over the top, they emerged from the edge of the jungle and set up a shout of defiance. "Aloft there!" called out the one who had now assumed the leadership; "do not think that you will escape us, for we are determined to capture you. Indeed, our lives are forfeited if we fail to do so. Up to this you have kept us at bay, for your guns are good, and can reach farther than ours, while the boulders and rocks protect you. But men can climb in the dark, and seeing that we cannot drive you to submission by means of a fire, we will close upon you in the night. Think and dream of that. If you lie down and sleep, or sit there watchful as a hawk, the end will still be the same, for we shall creep silently upon you. When you feel most secure we shall lay our hands upon you, and then, my friends, a time awaits you in Rembas. We hear that the men of Sarawak are coming up, and since that is the case we will kill you both with certain ceremonies, so that luck may come to us. I who am one of the sea Dyaks swear that this shall be your fate." With a defiant wave of his hand the man disappeared in the forest, and though Tyler stared after him, and watched the intervals between the trees, he could see no one else. Then he turned to Li Sung to gather the man's meaning, and afterwards directed his gaze to the river. "Evidently they mean to cut off escape in that direction," he said, "for one of their sampans is taking up a position off the bank, and will lie there during the night, moving slowly backwards and forwards. Perhaps they expect us to steal down and capture one of their boats, but they will be mistaken. And that reminds me. Come up, Li Sung, and point out to me the spot where we hid the craft in which we entered the river." It wanted but a few seconds to enable the active Chinee to come to his master's side, and at once he swung to the right and pointed eagerly to the edge of the rock. "Allee rightee," he exclaimed in a whisper. "De pirate below not find him for sure, and de fire not go dat way. Massa can see dat dere am no bushes till de ones dat hidee de boat, so allee velly fine. We runnee away in him." "Yes, and the sooner the better," said Tyler with unusual decision. "We have to go. That is perfectly clear, for we shall be killed or starved to death if we remain. Very well, then the question follows as to when we shall go. Shall it be at once, when the darkness has fallen, or shall it be during the night? My vote is given for an instant start, for otherwise the pirates will discover the boat as they creep this way; and then, again, they will rush us as we are preparing to leave. Better go as soon as the night comes, so as to get away before they can have surrounded the rock." "And massa will choose de river and de boat?" asked Li Sung. "Yes, the jungle is out of the question. It will be filled with scouts, who will be at points all round the edge of the clearing." "Den you say dat we sneak to de sampan and out into de river?" "Yes, Li, but not at once. You may be sure that those fellows are watching all round, and I think that to attempt to embark opposite here will end in discovery. If we go to the right, or strike into the jungle behind, the same will happen." "Den massa says go de oder way?" demanded Li in amazement. "He say go where all de pirates am now, and where dey arrive to attack us?" The proposition was, to say the least of it, a startling one, and yet Tyler was not inclined to relinquish it. For he had had long to think the matter over, and as he sat there looking down through the semi-darkness which had now covered the land, he felt sure that an attempt to leave the rock would be suspected. Indeed it was more than likely that the threat which the Dyak leader had shouted to him was merely meant to throw dust in his eyes, to make him think that an attempt would be made to assault during the night. Instead of doing that, however, the pirates would probably at once take up commanding positions, and then, in the belief that the two Chinamen would descend and slip into the darkness, would keep their eyes alert and make every effort to take them. Would they think to guard every spot alike? No. As Tyler considered the point he felt sure that that part of the forest where they were at that moment would be deserted, and that it was by that path that they must escape. "You see," he said, suddenly turning upon Li Sung, "they know that we have seen them land, and that their boats are pulled up there. They have been in that position ever since they came, and they will reckon that we shall keep away from it as far as possible. Is that not what others would do?" For answer the Chinaman gently scratched the top of his head, for though cunning he was no reasoner, and, to tell the truth, had he been alone would have elected to go in the opposite direction to that which his leader had suggested. "Well," demanded Tyler, staring into his face eagerly, "what would a man of your country do? What would you do?" "Me go de oder way. Me slip into de forest and runnee for de life," gasped Li Sung. "And that is what the majority of fellows would do. That is what the pirates would do, and will expect of us. Then we take the road I have pointed out, and if we are discovered--" "Li Sung plenty knowee den," exclaimed his follower, snatching at his knife and brandishing it in the air. "Li not care how he go, so long as massa lead de way; but he can fight. He hate de pirate!" "Then we will settle the matter, for it is already almost time to set out." For some thirty minutes the two crouched there on their perch, discussing their plans and listening eagerly for sounds of the enemy. Then, having tucked their revolvers into their belts, and swung their rifles over their shoulders, they began to creep down the steep slope of the rock, taking a line which would bring them to the spot where they had hidden the boat. Soon slight sounds came to their ears, and as they halted to listen each realized that the enemy was on either hand and behind, and that the noise which they could hear was made by the pirates as they stole through the forest to take up their positions. "They are preparing to catch us, but are not quite ready yet," whispered Tyler. "Then we will not waste a moment, for while they move into position we will slip away." Sweeping the ground before him with his hands ere he ventured to take a step in advance, Tyler at length reached the foot of the rock, and at once crept into the bushes which, owing to the fact that they were growing far to one side, had escaped the conflagration. Ah, there was the light river-boat! and in a trice the two silent figures were bearing it away on their shoulders. Turning to that part of the bank which had been occupied by the enemy they stole along in that direction, their feet buried in the hot ashes left by the fire, which effectually masked any sounds which might have been made. Soon a belt of trees barred their progress, and at once dropping the boat they grasped it with both hands and bore it along dangling at arm's-length. A hundred yards were covered in absolute silence, and both were beginning to think that fortune had befriended them and that freedom was before them, when Tyler gave vent to a startled cry, and of a sudden, as if the ground had been cut from beneath his feet, disappeared from view. "Quick, massa! Where am you?" demanded Li Sung eagerly, while a shout in the forest told that Tyler's cry had been heard. "You speakee plenty quick, and Li comee to helpee you." "I'm down below in a hole of some sort," answered Tyler swiftly, picking himself up and feeling about in the darkness. "I have got into a trap of some sort, for I can feel a number of pointed bamboos all about me, and was lucky to miss falling upon them and being spiked. Lean down and haul me up quickly. Now up with the boat again and run. This way to the river!" Realizing the plight into which his master had fallen, Li Sung no sooner heard what had happened than he threw himself upon his face at the edge of the yawning pit into which Tyler had tumbled, and, stretching out a hand, rapidly hoisted the latter out. Then both grasped the boat once more and set off for the river at the fastest pace. As for the pirates, they set the jungle ringing with their shouts, and, uncertain what had happened, for the trap had not been of their setting, but had been prepared for some old engagement now long forgotten, they rushed hither and thither, calling to one another to tell them where the enemy were. "Into the water with her, and on board," said Tyler as they reached the bank of the river and waded in. "Now, have you a paddle? Then let every stroke tell." There was no need for explanation, for both knew that they must pull for their lives. Kneeling, therefore, in the bottom of the boat, they each grasped a paddle with both hands and thrust the blade deep into the river. Then the surface swirled behind them, the craft gathered way, and ere a minute had passed they were shooting along beneath the overhanging branches. "Keep where we are," gasped Tyler as he laboured at his paddle. "It is pitch dark in here, while outside the sharp eyes of the natives would pick us out. Keep a good look-out, and be ready to push her off in case we run into the bank." That the latter was a likely occurrence was to be expected, for beneath the leafy avenue even in brilliant daylight all was sombre and clouded with gloom, while now that darkness had fallen and the sun had disappeared the tunnel under the trees presented not a ray, and indeed was buried in such obscurity that the two fugitives felt as though hemmed in by it, as though they could actually feel the darkness which surrounded them. But what could they do? Emerge into the open, so as to escape the risk of plunging into the trunk of a tree or running aground? That would be madness, for, as Tyler had observed, the night outside was not so black that the eyes of the Malays and sea Dyaks would fail to pierce it. And once they caught even the faintest glimpse of the flying boat, a suspicion even that it was paddling in that direction would bring them howling after it, and then the fate of the two Chinamen would be sealed. Yes, in an instant Tyler realized their precarious position; and though for the moment he considered whether it would not be better to halt where they were and lie still beneath the trees, he dismissed the idea next second, feeling that were they to do so the pirates would soon surround the spot, and, confident that they had cut off escape, would remain patiently till morning came and allowed them to surge down upon their daring enemies. Forward, therefore, and at all speed, was the order, and, reckless of the consequences, they plunged their paddles still deeper into the water till the bows of the tiny river-boat hissed against the stream, and sent the foam scudding on either side. Hark! A shout, louder and more piercing than any which had preceded it, suddenly burst from the forest behind them, while the babel of voices came to an abrupt end. Then the cry was repeated, and ere a second had passed an answering hail came from up and down the river. Almost at the same moment the prow of the river-boat dashed into a pile of drift-wood, and, running forward till half her length was piled upon it, came to a halt, stranded there beneath the tunnel of trees. "Hop out and float her again," whispered Tyler calmly. "Now stand still and listen. You heard the hail? Then did you catch those which answered it?" "Yes, massa. A shout came from up de river, and anoder from down below. We am caught. We am prisoner at last, and when de day comee again poor Li and him massa die. Dey lose de head, and when de men comee from Sarawak and kill de pirate dey find dem slung to de back of de Dyaks." Many a time, no doubt, had the humble Chinee seen men of the race which inhabited Borneo setting out upon an expedition to levy war upon their neighbours, and time and again had he observed the fact that all, or nearly all, of the warriors carried the heads of former victims slung to their girdles, for that was their custom. No wonder, therefore, as the prospect of imprisonment conjured up the scene and brought it afresh to his memory, that he shivered there, and, seeing that the end seemed so near, thought only of the worst. But Tyler also had heard of the custom, and indeed had even seen it with his own eyes. However, he was not the lad to be so easily frightened, and moreover he recognized the fact that life was sweet, and that to retain it now all his thoughts must be directed to escape, and not to the consequences of capture. "Silence!" he exclaimed in low but commanding tones, the firmness of which caused the Chinaman to suddenly cease his whining. "We are not caught yet, and even if we are, what will it matter to either of us if our heads are taken and carried about, for we shall be dead? Don't be foolish, for, as I have said, we are not taken yet. There is a saying amongst my people which runs: 'First catch your bird, then cook him'. Let the pirates lay hands on us, then, and it will be time to moan about our fate. For the present it is our work to get away from them, and for my part I mean to escape whatever the difficulties. Now, get hold of the bows and lift. That's the way. Turn to the left and scramble into the jungle." Abashed by the lecture which he had received, and encouraged by the bravery and calmness shown by his leader, Li Sung obediently carried out the order, and, lifting the head of the boat, carried it towards the bank. Tyler picked up the stern, and together they bore their craft into the jungle close at hand, and deposited it silently there. "They shall have their patience tried," he said, as he threw himself upon the ground. "No doubt that shout warned men who were watching up and down the river, and now that they have been put on their guard the others will embark and will scour every foot of the water. If we had stayed on the drift-wood we should have been discovered, for they will search with torches to help them. Now we are hidden again, and can wait till the noise and the keenness of the hunt have died down." "Hush, massa! Li hear someting, and him tink he see a light too." Whispering the words the faithful fellow stretched forth a warning hand and touched Tyler on the sleeve. Then both stared through the jungle, and made sure that they could hear faint sounds, as of someone paddling, approaching close to them. As for the light, at first it was difficult to determine whether Li Sung had been drawing on his imagination, or whether he had actually seen one. But presently a dull reflection on the water as it rippled beneath the trees attracted their attention, and they became aware of the fact that a distant flare, which was all but hidden by the leaves, was illuminating the stream before them. "Searching the part beneath the boughs," whispered Tyler; "and over there are other torches. Lie still for your life, and do not make a sound. But first get hold of your rifle." Instantly each swung his weapon to the front, and brought the butt to his shoulder. Then, prepared to fire if occasion should call for it, they lay still as ghosts amongst the bushes, peering at the enemy. It was a strange scene to look upon, and to Tyler as he lay there it brought back memories of many a jolly day at home. For here was a long, narrow native boat, drifting slowly down beneath the boughs, with two men to send it along with an occasional stroke, while some twenty others, all with the scantiest of clothing and with weapons bared, stood or kneeled up and stared at the leaves, into the trees, and amongst the bushes which lined the bank, hoping, with the aid of the light cast from a torch which was thrust into a bed of clay in the bows, that they would be able to find a trace of the fugitives for whom they sought. Uncanny though the scene was, and in spite of the fact that his life was at stake, Tyler's thoughts flew involuntarily to a day of days which he had spent not so long ago with his school comrades. There was a regatta, and at its end the boats had rowed in procession through the darkness, sending up fireworks, while the majority of the crew stood as well as the craft would permit and called loudly to their friends upon the bank. At the head of each of the craft had smoked and flared a torch of pine-wood which served to lighten the scene. How similar it had been to this at which he was now looking! For a moment he almost forgot the circumstances as he recalled old friends, comrades in the days when he was a lad at school, before the _Dido_ had been thought of. Then with a start he remembered his position at that moment, and at once his hand tightened upon the stock of his weapon, while the fingers of his other hand felt for the revolver which was thrust in his belt. "If they find us, fire the rifle, then give them a few shots with the revolver and fly. But we must take the boat, and must embark within a few seconds." He whispered the words in his companion's ear, and then watched to see him nod. A second later the native boat drew opposite, and both lay as if glued to the ground, scarcely daring to breathe lest the sound should be heard. Then with feelings of relief they noted that the craft was gradually passing beyond them, and were preparing to turn and congratulate themselves on their good fortune, when one of the natives gave vent to a cry of astonishment, while the boat came to a sudden halt. "Aground!" cried the man who was stationed in the bows, at once springing over the side; "and--do my eyes deceive me, or is this the mark of a second boat, perhaps the one in which the Chinamen escaped? Remember, comrades, we know that it was by that means that they left us, for they had hidden the craft which brought them here, and their guns prevented us from finding her. What have you others to say?" He stood aside while his comrades splashed in the water and waded towards him. Then the torch was snatched from its support and brought to the spot, over which all bent eagerly. As for Tyler and Li Sung, they almost trembled with apprehension, and, believing that they were about to be discovered, brought their weapons to bear upon the gathering of natives, and made ready to discharge them and then run for their lives. "It is your fancy, comrade," at length cried one of the pirates. "The bows of our boat crashed upon the drift-wood here, as you can see for yourself, for there is a deep furrow. Then you sprang overboard, lightening the load and causing her to move again. There is nothing in these signs, and I therefore urge you to press on. Remember, all of you, that our lives are forfeit if the day dawns and still finds us unsuccessful. Push on then, and let us not delay." "As you will," grumbled the one who had at first raised the question, and who had spent the time in staring into the jungle towards the spot where Tyler lay. "Only if we lose them on account of the fact that you will not take my warning, then it will be sad for all of us. For me, Rembas shall not see me again, for to return would be to die." "Then, as we all love the lives which we lead, and desire to go back to our homes, let us push on in all haste," cried his comrade. "Then shall we be more sure of coming upon these rascals." With a heave they lifted the craft from the obstruction and placed her in deep water. Then they sprang aboard, and before the fugitives could believe their eyes, their enemies were sweeping down the stream, only the reflection of the light being there to show that they actually existed. "We will let them tire of the search," said Tyler, with a big sigh of relief, "and then we will take to the water ourselves and make for the lower reaches. For the present we will lie still and listen, for others may come this way." And so with ears straining for sounds which would warn them of the near presence of the enemy, and with all their senses alert, they waited in the forest for some three hours or more, not daring to stir from their hiding-place. Then, judging that the keenness of the search was over and that they might venture to take to the river, they crept from the jungle, lifted their boat into the stream, and embarked. A thrust of the foot and she was afloat, and a stroke of the paddle directed her on her way. Then, with the current to carry them, they let her drift silently through the night, being careful, however, to keep her still beneath the overhanging boughs. At length the latter came to an end, and the open river was before them. At once they took to their paddles, and were urging their craft into the centre of the Sarebus when a long, dark object which had been lying in close to the bank shot out behind them and came racing in their wake. Then a dusky figure in the front grasped at a pole, at the end of which was attached a hook with which it was the custom of the pirates of Borneo to tear their enemies from their prahus, and, thrusting it out into the night, made a dash at the unconscious figure of the rearmost of the two at the paddles. It caught; the hook passed beneath his arm and became entangled in his clothing. "Back!" shouted the pirate. "Hold on your paddles!" There was a startled cry of surprise, the guttural exclamation of a Chinaman, and ere Tyler had time to think, he was over the side and being dragged into the enemy's boat. Down came the shaft of the pole upon his head, rendering him unconscious of the roughness with which he was handled. Thrust here and there, hauled this way and that, he was at length pushed into the stern and left to lie there, while the pirates turned their attention to the remaining fugitive. But of him there was not a sign. The darkness or the river had swallowed him up. CHAPTER XVIII A Narrow Escape Swift indeed had been the misfortune which had fallen on Tyler and his comrade as they escaped down the river Sarebus. So sudden and unexpected, in fact, that the former hardly realized that he had been caught by means of some instrument and was being dragged through the water, while the boat in which he had been kneeling, plying his paddle with all his might, swept on and away from him, urged by the powerful arm of the Chinaman. As for the latter, until the shout of the pirate who wielded the long pole and hook broke on his ear, he had no suspicion that the enemy was at hand, for the hiss of the water as it surged against the prow drowned all other sounds. But the sudden call caused him to sit upright with a jerk and turn his head, only to perceive the figure of his young master disappearing in the darkness. A moment later he had shot away from the pursuers, and, turning the craft with a dip of the paddle, lay still upon the surface, while the latter, still plying their oars, swept away in advance, searching there for the second of the gallant Chinamen who had caused them so much suffering. Ten minutes later Tyler regained consciousness, and would have started to his feet had not a naked foot pressed him to the floor. "What has happened?" he demanded in bewildered tones. "We were running down-stream, and it began to look as though we were going to give those fellows the slip. Then--Li Sung, you may not know it, but you are standing on my chest, which is not very comfortable. Just take your foot away and allow me to sit up." "Lie still, you dog!" was the answer, in a language which he did not understand, but which he knew must be Dyak. "Lie quiet where you are, I say, and stir not if you value your comfort. Would you warn your comrade then? That will silence you." The native who had charge of the prisoner lifted his paddle and hit at the prostrate figure lying beneath him in the darkness. But, fortunately for the latter, the blow failed to reach the mark, and, striking the bottom of the boat within an inch of his head, almost dashed a hole through the wood-work. But it had the desired effect, for Tyler at once realized his position and held his tongue, while the recollection of what had happened came to him like a flash in spite of his dizzy condition. "I remember now," he said to himself with something approaching a groan. "A hook caught me under the arm, and before I could make out what was up, I was splashing in the water and was being dragged into another boat. Then some fellow caught me a crack over the head, and--by Jove! how sore I am! They must have pulled me about and kicked me pretty savagely, for I feel as though every bone in my body were broken. And I'm a prisoner." The thought set him wondering what would be his fate, though that was a question which required little answering. Then he began to think of Li Sung, and with a feeling of gladness he realized that the Chinaman had made good his escape. "Then, after all, there may be some chance for me," he said to himself. "Captain Keppel and the Rajah of Sarawak were to put in an appearance at the mouth of the river on this date, and were to await our report there. If Li has got clear away he will, no doubt, lie up in some quiet spot and think the matter out. Then he will see that he can do no good alone, and he will at once set his face down-stream, and will row for all he is worth. The tide will help him, and by the time the night comes again he will be at the rendezvous. Then the anchors will be raised, and the schooners will sail up with the flood, and may, perhaps, be here by the following evening. By then I shall be--" Once more he broke off suddenly, realizing with a feeling akin to despair that he would be dead, for was it likely that the pirates would keep him a captive for long? "Hardly," whispered Tyler to himself. "They will be angry, and men who are in that condition do not pause and allow time to keep them from their revenge. To-day, within a few hours, they will commence to torture me, and then all will be over, and Li will have had his journey for nothing, while I shall be another of the victims to be added to the long list already set down to the brutality of these pirates." The conviction was not a very cheerful one, and for long it occupied our hero's thoughts to the exclusion of all others. And all the while, as he lay there prostrate on the floor of the boat, with throbbing head and limbs which ached in every part, the native who stood guard over him still rested a naked foot heavily on his chest, while ever and anon he turned his eyes from the dark surface of the river to the spot where his prisoner lay. "One of the dogs at least is in our power," he kept saying to himself, "and when the day comes, and the sun sails up to the sky, the second will come beneath our eyes. Then we shall return to Rembas in great favour, and our comrades will speak well of us. And afterwards there shall be a feast, when our prisoners shall afford us some amusement. And supposing the other dog escapes?" The question set him wondering what would be their reception at Rembas, and he was bound to confess to himself that the chief who had sent them out to make the captures would have something to say. "He will scowl at us, and call us cowards and dogs," said the native. "But he will do us no evil, for have we not been partially successful? For that reason he will talk, and then he will forgive. But we shall have to incur the laughter of our comrades." Once more the man lapsed into silence, while the boat sped on its course. But nowhere was there a sign of Li Sung, though they searched every foot of that portion of the river, and shouted a warning to their comrades who had taken up their posts above and below, in the hope of capturing the fugitives as they passed. Then, slowly at first, and later with the same swiftness with which it was wont to leave the earth, the day came full upon them, and they could see for miles along the surface. "Not a boat in sight, comrades," said the leader, the native who had charge of Tyler. "One of the men we have with us, but where is the other? Has anyone seen or heard aught of him?" He looked round at his crew with questioning eyes, and, hearing no response, spoke to them again. "Then what are we to do?" he demanded fiercely. "You have all heard what our chief has promised to do to us if we who were so many returned unsuccessful. Well, we are that. We have but one captive, while the second is at large. Shall we return at once, or will it meet your views if we kill this dog who lies beneath my foot, and then sail for the lower reaches? For myself, I fear to enter Rembas again, for the thought that our companions will jeer at me is worse than the fear of death." "And with us also," cried his companions. "We have fought hard, and are weary. But rather than go now to our homes to rest, we will row on if to return is to mean trouble with those who remained behind." "It was a bad day for all of us when we were chosen for the duty," burst in another when his comrades had done and there was silence in the boat; "but I fail to see why we should fear to return to Rembas. Tell me, my friends, who can say where the second of the Chinamen has got to? Is there a man here who set eyes on him or on his boat after we captured the fool who lies at the bottom of our own craft?" The Dyak, a shrivelled-up and aged man, peered at each one of the crew in turn, his beady eyes passing their faces one by one without discovering an answer. "No one responds," he went on with a cunning smile. "Then can our brothers in Rembas tell more? Can they say that he has escaped simply because we have not laid hands upon him? Ye are children, who need a man of my years and experience to nurse you. Listen to me, and say whether this will suit our case. We were told off for this matter, and the fates willed it that we should meet with great trouble; for how were we to guess that these Chinese dogs would prove so cunning? And how could we foretell the fact that the two who were caught by the bore would be armed with guns, good guns, mark you, my brothers, which shot better than our own? Others would have found the task impossible, but we were not to be so easily beaten, and though weary we clung to our ground. Then fortune came our way, and we captured one of the dogs, while with a blow of the pole to which the hook is attached the boat in which they rowed was sent to the bottom, with a big hole through the boards. Tell me, does not the stream on the river Sarebus run fast, and are not men easily drowned in its waters? Then that is the fate which has befallen the second of the Chinamen. He is dead, and by to-night the body will be washing out to sea, there to satisfy the mouths of the sharks which keep watch there. It is all plain and simple, and those at Rembas will recognize the truth of the story we tell." With another cunning glance the man took his seat, and, dipping his paddle into the stream, turned the head of the boat towards the distant town of Rembas. "Come," he continued persuasively, "believe what I say, and agree to tell the tale as I have told it. And recollect that we have with us one prisoner who will help to make us welcome." For some little time the others, who sat or kneeled in the boat, looked at one another doubtfully, while they discussed the matter in low tones. Then they began to see that their comrade had pointed out the only path which they could take, and on considering it they saw that the tale was a likely one. "And besides," said the man who had had the post in the bows, "I remember that as I thrust a second time at the figure of the man who still remained to be taken, the hook struck heavily against the craft, and may well have capsized it or battered a hole in the boards. Yes, the tale is good, and we should agree to it." And so, after a deal of discussion and eager conversation, the head of the boat was turned again to Rembas, for the stream had swung her round. Then the paddles dipped in the water, and very soon they were at their journey's end. "Rise! The chief awaits you!" The words were shouted in Tyler's ear, while his custodian kicked him savagely in the ribs. Then signs were made that he was to mount the slope which led to a formidable-looking stockade, and was to enter the gate which stood wide open. "Come," shrieked the man, angered at the delay which had occurred in the carrying out of his orders, "stir yourself and be quick, or I will find something better and more persuasive than a foot. Here, stand on your legs!" With that he clutched at Tyler's clothing and swung him over the gunwale of the boat and on to the ground beside the edge of the water. Then two others came to his aid, and in a moment they had set him upon his feet and had given him a push in the direction in which he was to go. But, to their amazement, the prisoner collapsed at once, and fell heavily upon his face. "He would make believe that he cannot stand. He is a cunning dog!" cried one of them. "Let us try again, and set something beneath him to keep him upright. Ah, perhaps the point of a knife will help him!" Once more Tyler was hoisted to his feet, while the ruffian who had spoken last whipped a knife from his waist-cloth, and held it so that the prisoner would meet with an injury if he was so foolish as to fall. Then his comrades were in the act of starting aside when a by-stander interfered. "You will kill the man and rob us of our fun," he called out suddenly, starting forward as he did so. "See! Have you no eyes? The fellow is weak with loss of blood, and here is the spot from which it comes." He pointed to the arm where the knife had struck some few hours before, and then to the garments below, which were stained red with blood. As for Tyler, he made no movement, but watched his captors through half-closed eyes; for he had a difficult game to play, and felt that the moment was a critical one. "If I show fight, or am strong and can walk, they will treat me badly," he had said to himself as he lay upon the floor of the boat and thought the matter out. "Then their chief will have me brought before him, and will endeavour to get some information from me; for the chances are that he will guess that I have something to do with the English of Sarawak. I should refuse, of course, and then, seeing that I was of no further use, he would give the order for my execution. That will not suit me, for my object is to gain time. Captain Keppel will be at the mouth of the river by now, and Li Sung will reach him to-night. To-morrow night at the earliest is the hour when I may expect them. I must pretend to know a lot, and yet be too weak to talk. Then in the hope of getting news from me when I am stronger they will curb their impatience and treat me well. Also, finding that I am helpless, they will not be so watchful, and perhaps I may manage to give them the slip." The plan seemed to be a good one, and as Tyler had thought it out in the darkness, and had sought for a good excuse for his weakness, the wound produced by the kriss which had struck him in the arm occurred to him, and he had at once commenced to tear the bandage from it. "That will allow the wound to bleed freely for a time and to stain my clothing," he said to himself. "I am wet from head to foot, so that a little blood will spread and look like a lot, and so mislead them. Yes, when the day comes I shall pretend to be almost on the point of death, and shall be incapable of standing." "See!" cried the man again, drawing attention to the prisoner's arm. "He has a wound, and it has bled freely, which accounts for his weakness. Let me tie a cloth about it, and then carry him, for we do not desire to see our captive slip from our fingers, and so rob us of the pleasure which we hope to have. Stand aside, you who gape and hold the knife, while I see to the man." Evidently the one who had spoken was of some consequence, for his comrades did not demur, and instead stood on one side; while the one who had drawn his kriss returned it to its place looking abashed and uncomfortable as he did so. A few moments later the wound was roughly bound, and Tyler was being carried up into the stockade. A sheltered spot was found for him, and he was placed upon the ground, while orders were given for water and food to be brought to him. Then those who had captured him went in a body to their chief to tell him the tale which they had agreed upon. As for Tyler, left alone in the shadow of one of the huts, he dared not so much as move an arm lest someone should be watching. "I must remember the part I am playing," he said to himself, "and must on no account appear to be shamming. When they see that I am helpless they will leave me alone, and perhaps I shall have the night to myself. Ah, here comes someone!" Through his half-closed lids he caught sight of a woman advancing towards him, and at once made ready to act his part. Closing his eyes, he lay so still that he might have been dead, and made no movement when the woman spoke to him. A second later his hand was grasped and the arm lifted to its fullest height, only to be dropped again, to see, perhaps, whether it would fall with a crash, or whether this seemingly unconscious man had power to control it. However, Tyler guessed the object of the movement, and allowed the limb to fall with all its weight. Then he felt a gourd placed to his lips, while a few drops of cold water were allowed to trickle into his mouth. "He is but young, and will recover," said the woman in soft tones. "He is one of a race whom we admire, for their men are hard and can fight and work well, and by the tale which has come to us this lad and his comrade, who is dead, made a fine stand against our men. Well, it is a pity, for he must die. But the chief has sent word that he is to be carefully tended, for the rogue may have news of these white people who propose to come up the river and attack us. Not that we care much for the tale, for Rembas is safe against thousands. There, I have sent some water down his throat, and in a little time he will be better and will be sensible. He shall have some food then, and perhaps to-morrow morning he will be well enough to be killed." She did not seem to see the strangeness of her words, but took it for granted that once her charge was better he would be executed. Indeed, to her mind such a course seemed only natural, for if the prisoner were not strong and fully alive, how could he afford amusement to the pirates, a collection of people who revelled in cruelty? And therefore, having done her best for him, she left him to himself and went about her daily work, wondering where the youthful Chinaman had come from, and how it was that he happened to be in the river Sarebus. As for Tyler, no sooner had the woman left him to himself than he gently opened his eyes and looked about him, carefully taking stock of the buildings and of the forts which were erected on every hand. "Evidently making preparations for the attack which is expected," he said, observing that guns had been placed in position in many places, so as to command the approach from the river, and that stockades were being built. "But our guns would quickly send them flat to the ground, and scatter the pirates. How much I should like to be present at the engagement, and what would I not give to be able to get away now and inform my commander of the preparations being made to resist him? Yes, when the guns have done their work the real excitement will begin, for the boats will row right in till they are within gun-shot, and then they will have to surmount the booms which are outside. And there is another question of importance. Captain Keppel ought to know the exact position of those booms, so as to send a boat ahead to blow a hole through them. I must get away! The very first chance I get I shall take to my heels and make a bolt for it." It was a desperate resolve to make, but a natural one under the circumstances; for what else could he do? To lie there simply meant that his end was put off for a few hours. Sooner or later, if he but waited for it, he would be dragged to execution, and then no one could save him. Why not, then, snatch at the smallest chance which offered, and trust to his heels to carry him to safety? So determined was our hero that, seeing that no one was at hand, he was almost in the act of springing to his feet, when sounds broke upon his ear, and he became aware of the fact that a number of men were approaching, and in their midst the leader of the Rembas pirates. Instantly his eyes closed as if he were still insensible. "So that is the man who kept you all at bay?" said the chief, looking critically at the unconscious figure at his feet. "A lanky Chinaman, you tell me? But--no, surely not one of that country, for see, his pigtail is almost severed, while the arm which is bandaged is too white for one of that race. This is no Chinaman, but an Englishman. I can tell him at a glance, for I have been at Singapore and at Sarawak." The news that their prisoner was of greater consequence than they had imagined caused the Malays and Dyaks the greatest astonishment and pleasure, and as their chief assured them that he was an Englishman they danced with delight. "He will be all the more valuable," said the chief thoughtfully, "for we will contrive to gather news of the intended attack from him. Remember, though we of Rembas are not always on terms of friendship with those who live at Pakoo and at Paddi, yet on this occasion, when all are to meet the foreigner, we shall bury our differences and make common cause against the enemy. For that reason the Dutchman, Hans Schlott, will not refuse if I ask him a favour, and will come hither at my bidding. We will send to him at once, for he can speak the language of these Englishmen, and we will ask him to interview the prisoner. Come, no time must be lost, for many miles of river lie between him and us." Fortunate for Tyler was it that he could not understand what was said, for then he would have realized that his case was almost hopeless. Hans Schlott to come and interview him as he lay a prisoner at Rembas! Why, the crafty Dutchman would recognize him in a moment, and would at once insist on his execution. That such would be the consequence of a meeting between the man who had murdered Mr. Beverley and Tyler Richardson could not be doubted, and had our hero but known of the proposal to send for him, have but dreamed that ere noon of the following day the Dutchman would be there in the stockade which surrounded Rembas, there is no doubt that he would have watched eagerly for the smallest loophole for escape, and would have snatched at it instantly, however desperate the chance which it offered. However, perhaps it was as well that he was ignorant of the facts, for his peace of mind was less disturbed in consequence, and he was able to devote more attention to his surroundings and to plans for getting away than would have been possible had the dread of an interview with Hans Schlott been before him. "Yes, he is an Englishman, and comes from Sarawak, I'll be bound," went on the chief of the Rembas pirates, closely inspecting the unconscious prisoner again. "He may have come here by accident, having been washed in by the flood from the sea, or he may have come hither with the object of spying upon us. The last is the most likely. But we shall soon know, for the Dutchman will interrogate him, and if his tongue wags but slowly in reply, we shall have a means to quicken it. But let us see to the message. To you," and he took one of the by-standers by the arm, "I give the post of honour. Take a boat and crew this instant, and row for Paddi, bearing this from me: 'The lord of Rembas bids the lord of Paddi greeting, and asks that he take passage in this boat, or in any one of his own vessels, and come to Rembas at once, as we are in need of his services. We have a prisoner, a young Englishman, who is tall and lanky, and we desire to have him questioned, thinking that he has been sent to spy upon us.' There, that should be sufficient. Go now, without loss of time, and nightfall should see you at Paddi. An hour will do for discussion, and after that you will set out to return. By noon to-morrow you will be here with our guest, and we shall be able to look into this matter. When that is done, and the night is fallen, we will have a bonfire in the centre of the stockade, and there we will pass the time pleasantly at the expense of the prisoner." Once more he ran his eye over the apparently unconscious figure at his feet. Then he turned away and went to see that his orders were carried out without delay. As for the others, they, too, soon went to their huts, and Tyler was left lying in the shadow alone. "They suspect me," he said to himself, opening his eyes and looking around. "I am not certain, but I think I overheard the word 'Englis', which would make it appear that the chief recognized that I was not a Chinaman. If that is so, he is likely to question me very closely, and he will certainly not be inclined to show me any mercy on account of the fact that I am one of those who are about to attack him. Well, I must wait for night to fall, and then I shall make a dash for it. Ah, they have forgotten to search me for arms!" With a sudden flush of pleasure he realized that his revolvers still occupied their place in his waist-cloth, and that he had a means of defence. Then, as there was nothing more to be done, he looked about him till he felt that he knew every corner of Rembas, and then fell into a doze. When he awoke again, the woman who had previously come to his help was standing beside him, and at once she lifted the gourd of water to his lips. "You are better, but still weak," she said. "Drink, and afterwards I will give you food, for it is only in that way that you will become a man again. There, lie still while I place the food in your mouth." In her way she was kind to this forlorn prisoner, and seeing that he still appeared to be so weak as to be unable to lift his hands, she fed him with rice, which she conveyed to his lips by means of her fingers. Then she gave him another drink of water, and having placed a roll of matting beneath his head, and the gourd beside him, she left him for the night. "Sleep," she said, "and when to-morrow comes I will come to you again to feed you. A fine rest to you!" A moment later she was out of sight, and Tyler found himself alone lying in the lengthening shadow of a hut which was situated in the very centre of the town of Rembas. Other huts clustered about him, but they seemed to be untenanted, and he soon made sure that they must contain provisions and arms and ammunition. As for the inhabitants, numbers were to be seen at work on the fortifications, busily making them more secure against the expected attack, while others went about their ordinary business. Every now and again someone would stroll past the spot where the prisoner lay, perhaps to satisfy his curiosity; but on each occasion Tyler was lying in precisely the same spot, his head propped upon the roll of matting, and his limbs spread out in a manner which showed that he was helpless. Apparently the pirates were satisfied that there was no deceit, for when the sun went down, and the long shadow cast by the hut suddenly became merged into the general darkness, they did not trouble to move him, but left him there, feeling that he was secure. "He can come to no harm, and the night air will serve to revive him," said the leader of the Rembas pirates as he passed to his hut. "These pale-faces are not like us, and a very little takes their strength away. But you will see that he will revive by the morning, for he has already taken food. Leave him, and perhaps when the day comes he will be able to sit up, or even to stand upon his feet with help. As for escape, it is out of the question in his case." Two hours later, when all sounds in the stockade had died down, Tyler prepared to make an attempt to escape, and, as a preliminary, thrust his hand into his waist-cloth and brought his revolvers out, one at a time. Carefully running his hands over them, he made sure that they were ready for use, though whether or not the powder had been spoilt by his short immersion in the river he could not say. Then, having stared about him, and listened eagerly for sounds of any pirate who might happen to be abroad, he rose to his feet and began to steal away in the dense shadow of the hut. "I must keep out of the rays of the moon," he said to himself, glancing at the sky, where a crescent of the orb was calmly floating. "The light is quite sufficient to show me to an enemy, and, on the other hand, it will enable me to detect one who may be approaching. I'll stick close to the huts, and when I am bound to cross an open space will make a dash for it. Here goes!" With a revolver in either hand he stole along beside the wall of beaten clay and bamboo, and soon came to the end of the hut. Then, having paused for some moments, he flitted across the space which intervened between it and a second, and once more was buried in deep darkness. Ah! As he stood there, looking about him with eager eyes in case someone should have seen him, a sound, the rustle of a garment, broke upon his ear, and instantly he became riveted to the spot, his limbs held rigidly, while he searched the shadows with his eyes. There it was again, and as he looked he fancied he caught sight of a dusky figure away on his right. Was it a Dyak sent to watch the prisoner, and who, seeing that he was about to escape, was following with the intention of springing upon him as his hopes were about to be realized? Yes, that must be the solution of this mystery, and the fellow over there was tracking him, following him like a cat. At the thought a cold perspiration broke from Tyler's forehead, while his heart thumped so fiercely against his ribs that he even dreaded lest the sound was audible. Then, too, his head throbbed, partly with the rough treatment which he had received when captured, and partly owing to the excitement under which he laboured. He could scarcely think, could hardly gather his wits, and stood there for some seconds scarcely daring to breathe. Then the courage which had helped him thus far through the many dangers which he had of late been called upon to face came to his aid, his old spirit of determination returned to him, and in an instant, it seemed, Tyler Richardson was himself again, peering into the darkness with all his senses alert, and judging the situation with that calmness which had astounded his friends on former occasions. "Dyak or Malay," he whispered to himself, "it makes no difference to me, for I have met both before, and have beaten them. I will not allow this fellow to spoil my hopes, and will shoot him like a dog if he interferes. But does he see me? I am in the shade, and it is possible that he has lost sight of my figure. Ah, I will play a prank upon him!" Suddenly perceiving that if the man, whoever he was, had been following, he would have seen him dart across the space lit by the feeble rays of the moon, and that, having watched the prisoner gain the shadow of the hut, the pirate would expect him to creep along beside the latter and emerge again at the farther end, Tyler decided to remain where he was for a time, and so mislead the man. "By not moving myself I may force him to disclose his own position," he thought, "and then I shall be able to deal with him. And, besides, it is not at all certain that he is actually following me. Perhaps he has some other game to carry out, and cares nothing for the prisoner." However improbable the last might be, Tyler did not mean to lose sight of it, and, in accordance with his resolution, crouched in the shadow, and remained perfectly still there, peering out into the comparative light beyond in the hope that he would catch sight of the stranger. There he was. The swish of a linen garment and the patter of a sandalled foot broke the silence, and a tall figure was seen to glide along beside a hut across the way and disappear round the corner. Strange! He was moving away from Tyler, for now the hut stood between them. But not for long; for ere many moments had passed the same sounds were heard again, and the same ghostly object came into view, this time more easily seen, for the reason that a few stray rays of the moon reached him. Why, he had made a round of the dwelling, and, as if he had failed to find that for which he was searching, was now flitting across to another near at hand! Instantly Tyler turned to follow his movements, wondering what the man could want. Then he suddenly swung right round, for the muzzle of one of his weapons had tapped against the woodwork of the hut, and had given rise to a sharp noise which had instantly brought the stranger to a stop. "He heard it, and if he did not know of my presence here before he suspects it now," thought Tyler. "It was a piece of carelessness and bad luck, and may cost me my life. Ah, he too is hiding in the shadow and peering in this direction!" For many minutes did the two silent figures watch each other, or, rather, search the shadows in the vain endeavour to recognize who was hidden there. And more than once did Tyler lift his arm and take aim at his opponent, thinking that to risk a shot would be better, perhaps, than to wait there in such uncertainty, and always with the fear in his heart that another of the pirates might put in an appearance. But however justified the deed, he could not reconcile himself to it. It seemed so much like murder, like shooting a man from behind; and as the thought came to him our hero lowered his weapon, while he puzzled his brains as to how he should act. As for the stranger, his patience seemed to swiftly come to an end, and at length he commenced to creep from the shadow towards the spot where Tyler was in hiding. A tall, lanky individual, in that half-light he appeared almost like a giant as he stood for the space of a second to his full height. Then, snatching at a weapon which was thrust in a band of linen about his waist, he dropped on hands and knees and stealthily crawled forward. "He hopes to attack me in the shadow," thought Tyler, at his wits' end how to act. "If I stay here he will crawl into the shadow higher up, and will then come down beside the wall of the hut, where I shall be unable to see him. That will not do, and as it is clear that I am discovered, and that I shall have to fight for my life, I too will make for the open. If he gives a shout I shall fire and then run for my life." His mind made up to act in this manner, he threw himself on hands and knees also, and at once crawled out into the open, one weapon thrust into his girdle, and the other held in his right hand. And thus, like two panthers awaiting the moment to spring upon one another, the two ghostly figures advanced across the open. Rapidly did the distance between them lessen, till at last only some fifteen feet separated the combatants. Now was the time to act, and as each grasped the fact, they sprang to their feet. Instantly Tyler's figure stiffened, his arm swung up to the horizontal, and he covered his man with an aim which never left the mark, and which never trembled in spite of his excitement. As for his opponent, he seemed even taller and more forbidding than before, and as he stood to his full height, and raised his naked weapon above his head, the rays of the moon flashed upon him, increasing the ferocity of his appearance. But Tyler was not to be frightened so easily, and indeed scarcely seemed to have taken note of the features of the man. As if to make more certain of his aim he squinted along the barrel of his revolver and elevated the muzzle just a little till it lit upon some object which glinted brightly upon the naked chest of the man. Then his finger went to the trigger, there was a pause, and slowly the grip tightened. A second and the haunt of the river pirates would have been awakened by the report of a shot, when an exclamation of astonishment burst from our hero. "What!" he exclaimed in low tones. "Can it be possible, or am I dreaming?" As if some sight had dazed him, he passed his hand across his eyes, and stared again at his opponent, keeping his revolver levelled at him all the while. Then he advanced a step or two and peered at the stranger. As for the latter, he, too, was acting in a manner strangely different from that which one would have expected. As Tyler had levelled his weapon he had started back a pace. Then he had suddenly leaned forward and stared into the face of the man who stood before him. What were his thoughts no one could say, but there he stood as if spell-bound, not uttering a sound, staring at his silent opponent. A moment later, however, as Tyler gave vent to the words, the figure opposite him had sprung forward, the naked weapon had dropped to the ground, and two hands were groping for his in the semi-darkness. "Massa! Massa Tyler Richardson! You! de prisoner!" "And that is Li Sung!" gasped Tyler. "I cannot believe it possible. I am escaping. I thought you were a pirate about to stop me, and in less time than I can think I should have shot you. Then the moon showed me that the bright point at which I aimed was a small brass box in which you carry snuff, and instantly I realized that it must be you. What are you doing here? Speak! We have no time to lose!" For a few seconds the faithful Li Sung could not respond to his master, so utterly taken aback and staggered was he by the extraordinary ending of what had appeared to be a serious danger. This his master! And the latter had recognized his servant but just in time, had told him by the snuff-box which dangled about his neck, and which, had he been away in China, amongst his countrymen, would never have been there. Yes, it was strange that a habit which he had learned from the Malays of Borneo should save his life, and that the wearing of a box of metal about his neck should enable his master to find him. His delight was beyond everything. This stoical, placid Chinee was a different being, and for the first time for many a year he was at a loss for words, while his lips trembled and tears started to his slit-like eyes. "Massa!" he managed to gasp at last. "Li he comee here to find you. He watch de town of Rembas and sneak here when de light die down. Den he creep close to de stockade, and he hear plenty fine words from de sentry who talkee to one of de men. He learn dat you am velly weak, and am wandering in de head. Den Li say dat dat not right. He must getee you away from de place, and he kill de sentry Yes, him not wait to tink velly much, but kill him wid de knife. Den him sneakee into de town, and--" "And happened to run up against the weak and helpless prisoner," burst in Tyler in a whisper. "It is all plain now, and the rest can be left to later on. Only this I know. You stood by me. You came here at the risk of your life to save me. I shall not forget, and later on will thank you." "No needee to do dat, massa," was the Chinaman's reply. "Li not alivee to come here if massa not savee him in de river. But time we left de town. What am de orders?" "That you lead the way to the river, and that we make for the mouth as soon as possible." Without further conversation they turned their faces to the stockade which surrounded the town of Rembas. At the gate lay the figure of the sentry who had been keeping watch, and whom Li Sung had killed, and over his body each stepped in turn. The gate gave to a slight push, and ere very long they were on the bank of the river which ran direct into the Sarebus. "De boat or a prahu? What does massa say?" "The first till we are in the stream, and then the last," was the sharp and unhesitating reply. "Lead the way." Grasping the edge of the Chinaman's cloak, for it was dark beneath the trees which fringed the bank, Tyler followed Li Sung without a doubt of his ability to lead him. Then, arrived at the spot where the boat was moored, each stepped into her, while a thrust from the Chinaman's brawny leg sent her afloat. There, standing up cutting the silvery beams with a line of black, was the mast of a small river prahu, and at once, as if they had chosen it by common consent, the boat was rowed in that direction. No need to hoist an anchor, for a rope of rattan alone held the barque, and a swift flash of the knife severed it Then the two dusky figures went to the ropes, and soon the prahu was standing down-stream with bellying sail. "De bore am gone and de tide am falling," said Li Sung, coming aft to where Tyler stood at the helm. "Keep de ship to de centre of de river and all am safe. Comee de morning and de sea am in sight." "And perhaps the friends who are waiting for us. Get along forward, Li Sung, and keep a bright look-out, for it would be hard if we were to run on a bank after all that has happened." Alone upon the wide sweep of water they sailed swiftly towards the mouth of the river Sarebus, and, just as the sun rose, emerged into the sea. Instantly a shout left their lips, and they turned to shake one another by the hand; for anchored behind a tiny sandy promontory were two vessels, one of European build, which was undoubtedly the _Dido_. CHAPTER XIX An Attack upon the Stockades "Back again! We scarcely expected you, and a load of anxiety is lifted from my mind," cried the captain of the _Dido_ in hearty tones as Tyler swarmed to the deck of the war vessel, and, leaving Li Sung in the prahu made fast to the gangway below, went striding to the poop. "Come, tell me the news, for I am eager to hear it. Here we are, you see, at the rendezvous appointed, and I may say that all are eager to be moving. Let us get down into the cabin and have a chat." Seizing the Chinaman, who had boarded the vessel, by the hand, Captain Keppel wrung it with enthusiasm, and then, ere he led the way to his cabin beneath the poop, took a step backwards, the better to be able to survey the gallant young fellow who had so willingly undertaken to ascend the Sarebus and gain tidings of the enemy. As for the crew of the _Dido_, they were not slow to guess what was happening, and, remembering the fact that two Chinamen had so recently taken possession of a prahu, much to their mystification, and that the young fellow who had so recently joined them had been absent ever since, they recognized that this Chinaman who had just come aboard in his tattered and travel-stained garments must be the same. For some moments they waited watching the interview upon the poop. Then, as their commander was seen to grasp the stranger by the hand, their excitement was roused to the highest. "Took 'im by the 'and!" shouted one lusty tar, lifting an enormous palm to shade his eyes from the sun. "Then if that don't prove that that feller ain't a Chinee after all, well--bust me!" He paused for a moment to find an expression adequate for the occasion, and then, changing his plug to the other cheek, looked round at his comrades. "It's the young orfficer what come aboard a few days gone back," he whispered hoarsely. "Him what arrived at Sarawak with the fleet of prahus and a crew of darkies. Strike me! but what's he been up to this time?" "Been sailing up the river Sarebus," shouted John Marshall, the boatswain of the old schooner, who had taken up his quarters on the _Dido_ for the time being, instantly recognizing Tyler as he stood there on the upper deck. "He's been risking his life again. He's been after them 'ere pirates and the Dutch bloke as I told yer about. Here, let's give him a rouser. One, two, now all together!" Thanks to the fact that John Marshall had a busy and a ready tongue, the crew of the _Dido_, and indeed the greater part of the inhabitants of Sarawak, had long ere this gained news of all the adventures which had befallen Tyler on his way to join his ship, and now that something more had happened, and they gathered the fact that this lad--for he was little more than that--had dared to ascend the river and spy upon the pirates themselves, their enthusiasm knew no bounds, and, leaping forward at John's shout, they rent the air with their cheers, repeating them till Captain Keppel advanced to the rail and lifted his hand to ask for their silence. "Nicely done, my lads!" he said, in tones of satisfaction. "He will appreciate your cheers far more perhaps than the poor thanks which I can give him. Let me tell you that this officer is a gallant one indeed, and that although he is still practically a new-comer and a stranger to most of you, yet that he has already earned distinction. For the splendid manner in which he brought through the tribe of Dyaks he will deserve commendation at the hands of his seniors, but now he has added something more, and I shall strongly recommend him for reward. There, my lads, I'm even more pleased than are you, and to celebrate the occasion, and because we have some fun ahead, I'll give orders for a round of grog to be served. Then you can drink success to our friend and to the coming expedition." Turning away from the men as they sent up another cheer, the commander inspected Tyler closely, and then spoke again. "You have had a rough time, that I can perceive at a glance," he said with a start. "You are wounded, and there is a hunted look on your face. Come below. A good meal and a glass of wine will do you no harm, and then you can let me have your information." Taking his junior by the arm he led him to the companion, and ushered him into the cabin. Then he called for food and drink, and would not hear a word from Tyler till the latter had had his wants satisfied. Then the ship's surgeon was called in, and speedily dressed the wound. "A clean cut, which would have done better had it been dressed at once," he said, as he looked at the arm critically. "But that, of course, is not always possible. Yes, there has been severe hemorrhage, and by the appearance of your cheeks you are still somewhat weak from loss of blood. But that is a matter which can soon be set right. Shall I place Mr. Richardson on the sick-list, sir." For answer Captain Keppel smiled at our hero, and then turned to his interrogator. "Ask the lad himself," he said with a laugh. "He does not look to me like the fellow who would willingly miss the fun which we have before us." "Well, what do you say? Shall it be the sick-list and a bunk in the sick-bay, or a hammock and a good sleep in your own quarters?" demanded the doctor. "The last, please," answered Tyler without hesitation. "As to the wound, it is really nothing, I assure you. The kriss went through the arm, and almost dropped out by its own weight. It does not hurt at all, and all that I have suffered has been from loss of blood. To that I owe the fact that I am alive at this moment. But I am dog-tired and want a sleep." "Then you shall have it, my lad," cried the commander. "But first I must get your news, for time is precious and we have much to do. Come, out with it, and then off to your hammock." Thus bidden, Tyler rapidly outlined the preparations which he had seen in progress at Rembas, and told Captain Keppel that, having now seen that stronghold in addition to Paddi, he was sure that the former would offer a fiercer resistance. Then, urged by those who were listening, he narrated how he and the Chinaman had held the rock, and had finally taken flight; how he had been hauled into the enemy's boat; and how, while making his escape from the stronghold of Rembas, a strange figure had dogged his footsteps, and had almost joined in combat with him. "I call it a wonderful piece of luck," exclaimed Lieutenant Horton, who had also joined the party in time to hear the tale. "Anyone else would probably have fired point-blank, and only discovered that the opponent was a friend in reality when it was too late. How fortunate that you caught sight of the tin about the neck of this Li Sung!" For some little time those who had listened to the tidings which Tyler had brought discussed the matter, commenting on the news and upon the steps which he had taken to make good his escape. Indeed, so interested did they become that their attention was withdrawn from our hero, and when at last they turned to question him further, they discovered that he was fast asleep, his head reclining upon his hands on the cabin table, while his breathing was long and deep, showing how much he was in need of rest. "Done to a turn," said Captain Keppel in a whisper. "The lad has worked like a Trojan, and has been at it almost since the time when he left Sarawak. We know at any rate that he has not had a wink of sleep for two nights, while he has been fighting most of the time. Catch hold of his legs, Doctor, while I take his head and shoulders. We'll pop him into his bunk without disturbing him." In a trice they had Tyler between them, and in less than a minute he was between the blankets, snoring heavily and utterly unconscious of his surroundings. When his eyes opened again, and he looked about him in bewilderment, it was to discover that sunlight was streaming down into his quarters, and that his comrades were hastily donning their clothes. "Halloo! Still day?" he asked, peering at the others and rubbing his eyes. "What a sleep I've had!" "Should say so, old chap," was the laughing answer. "At any rate you've lain there like a log since you arrived here, and that was somewhere before noon yesterday." "Yesterday? Impossible!" "Not a bit of it. You've slept for twenty hours on end, and if you're not precious slippy you'll be too late to hear all about the expedition. All hands are to muster at once while the skipper reads out the orders." Tyler was out of his bunk like a shot, and rapidly scrambled into a suit of clothes, tearing the old ones off in a moment. Then he hastily washed his face and hands, and darted up on deck in the wake of his comrades. Above, all were assembled, and listened eagerly as the captain read the orders for the day. Then each man went to the magazine, there to be served with arms, which all at once set to work to clean and put in the best of order. That some big movement was afoot anyone could see, for there was an air of half-suppressed excitement about the tars, and they discussed in eager terms the chances of a hand-to-hand conflict with the enemy. Early on the following morning all was in readiness, and no sooner had breakfast been finished and swept away than the shrill notes of a pipe rang out, while the bugle of the marines awoke the echoes. Then a boat came pulling alongside, bearing the Rajah of Sarawak. "We propose to leave Rembas till the last," said Captain Keppel, as Tyler stood before him and the rajah, having been called on to the poop to speak with them. "We shall leave the _Dido_ here and pull up in open boats, taking that tope over there with us. She is well supplied with food and with ammunition, and must be well guarded. And now for the force. Lieutenant Wilmot Horton will be in command, for it is one of the perquisites of his rank to lead an expedition of this nature. But I propose to go also, in my gig, and with me will be the rajah. You will accompany us, Mr. Richardson, and, since you have now been face to face with these pirates on two occasions, we shall expect you to take good care of us. "And now for the actual men to be taken," he went on, turning away from Tyler with a smile as the latter flushed red at his remarks. "The force of officers and men, sailors and marines, will be approximately eighty in number. We shall take the pinnace, two cutters, my gig, and the _Jolly Bachelor_, which the rajah has kindly placed at my disposal. She is native built, and admirably suited to our needs, for she will take thirty men with ease, besides a six-pounder. The pinnace will be armed with a twelve. The tope will accompany the expedition with food and ammunition, and strung on to our forces we shall have nearly a thousand natives, Borneans, Malays, and Dyaks, but mostly the latter, and a goodly few the same who accompanied Mr. Richardson from along the coast. They may not be of much use in the attack, but I promise you that they will be to the fore if flight is attempted by the enemy, for they do not love them, and have suffered much at their hands." "They have indeed," burst in the Rajah. "For a century and more their children and wives have been enslaved, and the men killed, while their fruit-trees and their plantations have been cut down and ruined. But you will have to keep a close hand upon these natives, Keppel, for they do not know what discipline means." "I mean to," was the emphatic answer, "and for that purpose I am placing one of my officers over them, with strict injunctions to watch them. And now, if you are ready, Rajah, we will set out." The ruler of Sarawak having assented, the bugles and whistles once more set the echoes ringing, and very soon the boats of the expedition had been marshalled. Drawing a rifle from the magazine, Tyler dropped into the gig and awaited the coming of his commander. Half an hour later all were in readiness, and having turned the bows of the boats in that direction they were pulled into the river Sarebus. In spite of the fact that a deluge of rain poured down upon their heads not one of the attacking-party seemed to mind, or to have his high spirits damped. For the weather was warm, and each one wore a kajan, a mat through which the head was thrust, which effectually protected them from the wet. Then, again, who could say what would happen? Perhaps heavy and fierce fighting was in store for the force, for these pirates of the river had had their quarters there, father and son, for more than a generation, and would not be likely to yield them without a struggle. Then, again, they would be ashore, behind stockades, and would have the advantage of knowing every inch of the river, while the attackers would have to come up in the open, exposed to every gun and rifle. But if the enemy counted upon the fact that the British tars would be dismayed at the thought, they were doomed to disappointment, for all that the latter did was to joke and laugh, with an occasional grumble at the long pull which must intervene between themselves and the enemy. "Well, there's one thing about the business that I like," cried one of them as he pulled at his oar. "A long pull's a long pull, and yer can't alter it nohow, but yer can have it made easy like if the flood's with yer. That's what we've got, and yer can feel the rush at every stroke. With a stream like this well be there against to-morrow night." "And then the guns'll be popping," burst in another. "Bet yer a quid o' 'bacca I'm in their show afore you, Billie." "Done with yer," was the answer, growled in the huskiest of voices. "It's a fair bet, and our mates'll see who's the winner." Laughing and chatting as they rowed, the hours swiftly passed away, Tyler having much to occupy his attention. Indeed, every bend of the river brought some recollection to his mind. It was there that they had hidden their prahu, that low sandy bank was the spot where they had landed in search of inhabitants, while, higher up, the land became even more familiar. "That is the rock which Li Sung and I defended," he ventured to remark, when at last the expedition was close to the branch of the river upon which Rembas was situated, "and by turning to the left now we should be under their guns before we could believe it." "Then we will keep straight on," was the reply. "But that was a capital site for defence, Mr. Richardson. For two alone it was just the isolated position which would offer a chance of success, and you were fortunate to have it so close at hand when you were capsized. But that reminds me of the bore. We will look out for a spot in which to pass the night." When darkness fell the boats of the expedition lay snugly under the banks, while the men lay in them, smoking and waiting for the meal. Then fires were lighted and kettles set to boil, while certain of the men were told off to act as sentries. And thus, pulling cautiously by day, and tying up to the banks at night, the winding course of the river was slowly followed and Paddi approached. At length the latter was close at hand, and one fine morning, after the bore had gone sweeping past on its course, with its usual accompaniment of brushwood and drift from the banks of the stream, the expedition loaded weapons, and, pulling up their moorings, took the flood which went racing on to Paddi. Had they wished to go slow to their destination it would have been almost impossible, so strong and rapid was the stream in these upper reaches. But the pace suited the spirit of every man, and particularly of those who occupied the gig. At the helm, sitting in his shirt sleeves, was the Rajah of Sarawak, as calm as if before his own home at Sarawak, while close at hand were Captain Keppel and Tyler. Forward of them were the crew, a set of lusty fellows, whose hands itched to toss their oars aside and snatch at the cutlass which each carried in his belt. Hark! A murmur in front, a bend in the river, and nothing but trees and jungle to be seen. Was it the enemy? The commander turned his face towards his companion questioningly, and in reply Tyler nodded. "We are close on them," he said in calm tones. "I remember that there is a hill on the left, some little distance from the main stockade, and that it has a fort on top. That is where the noise comes from." "And here we are in sight," exclaimed the Rajah. "Now we can prepare for a peppering with slugs. But we are a bad mark to aim at, for the stream is sweeping us on at a pace. Keep a sharp look-out, for it is about here that we shall run upon a boom, and it would be bad for us if we became entangled. They will have the range to a nicety, you may be sure, and they would blow us out of the water." The warning was given in the calmest of tones, for the Rajah was no alarmist, but a man of great courage and a tried soldier. Gripping his helm he steered the gig up the very centre of the stream, and as he reached the bend ahead shot her over to the farther side. "There may be skulkers lying on the edge of the bank," he remarked, "and they would have us within easy range. Ah, listen to that!" So swift was the current that the banks seemed to leap past them, and long before those aboard had time to consider what was about to happen, or realize the fact that they were practically alone, a wide interval separating them from the other boats and the main part of the expedition, the gig had swung round the bend and was in full sight of the enemy. A thousand of them, or thereabouts, lined the hill, and set up a yell of defiance which caused even the boldest of the attackers to change colour. Rushing hither and thither, and filling the air with their cries, the pirates watched the gig advance, while some of their comrades, as if to add to the note of defiance already sent up, danced a mad war-fling on the roof of the fort erected on the summit of the hill. "Number one," said the captain coolly, emptying one of the barrels of his gun at the multitude. "But those are not the fellows we have to deal with just now. We are for the main stockade." "And there it is, sir," shouted Tyler, as he came into view of the bamboo palisading which surrounded Paddi. "There is the main fort, sir, and in front of it is the boom. It is a different one from that which was here some days ago, and I think that it has been constructed more strongly." "It is composed of trees driven into the bed of the river," said the rajah, taking a hurried look. "Others are laid across the top and lashed there with rattans. We must cut them adrift." "Wait, there is an opening," called out Captain Keppel, standing up in the gig and pointing ahead. "Yes, I am sure of it, but it is very narrow. Send her at it, Rajah. Put her nose full tilt at the opening and squeeze her through." In their excitement not one of the crew of the gig recollected the fact that they were still practically alone, and that to pierce the boom and enter on the farther side would expose them to the attack of every one of the enemy. Swept on by the river, which matched well with their eagerness, they turned the head of the gig for the narrow opening in the boom, and went at it with a will. Bump! It was hardly wide enough, and the timbers grated against the trees. But nothing could stop her, and in an instant she was through the narrow neck and shooting on towards the stockade beyond, and the shelving hill, on the foot of which John Marshall and his party of natives had remained while Tyler entered in search of the prisoners. "'Bout ship!" called out the captain. "Nicely does it, my lads. Now, keep her there while I give 'em a barrel or two. Mr. Richardson, you had better join me." Obeying the order without hesitation, the gig was turned swiftly, and by means of the paddles was prevented from drifting down upon the stockade, where she and her crew would undoubtedly have fallen victims to the pirates, for they would have been overwhelmed. Then, with a steadiness which did them credit, the commander, Tyler, and the coxswain raised their weapons to their shoulders and opened a fusillade. Crash! Bang! A roar and a couple of thunderous reports; then a spurt of flame and smoke from the embrasures along the face of the fort. "Aimed for the boom, and easily missed us," said the Rajah with a smile, as the discharge swept over the gig and churned the water about the boom into foam. "But a few of the bullets are dropping about us, so we'll move aside. Steady there, starboard! Strongly does it with the port. There she is, and soon our comrades will be here." By now a warm musketry fire had commenced upon the gig, and the bullets were splashing on every side. But not a man flinched from his task. Indeed the tars who manned the oars scorned even to turn their heads, for they were steady old salts, and had been in many a scuffle. Instead, they kept their eyes on their companions, and watched as the remaining boats came down upon the boom. Swept by the current the pinnace struck it broadside on, and was held there for a moment, receiving several bullets amongst her crew, three of whom were wounded. But others soon came to her assistance, and with the help of the natives the rattans were cut through and the boom dragged aside. Then the twelve-pounder answered the boom of the brass cannon set up in the stockade, and a burst of grape went shrieking and hurtling through the town of Paddi. Meanwhile the gig had slowly and insensibly approached the bank below the stockade, and, thinking to take her easily, the pirates dashed down to the water's edge, where they rushed to and fro, almost delirious with excitement, while they discharged their guns at the crew. Suddenly a figure pushed to their front, and Tyler, who had kept a watchful eye upon them, instantly recognized the Dutchman. So short was the distance which separated them that each recognized the other, and at once a weapon flew to the Dutchman's shoulder and he fired, the bullet striking the gunwale of the boat close beside Tyler. A moment later Captain Keppel pressed his trigger, a Malay beside the Dutchman falling full length to the ground. "A bad shot!" he cried in disgust. "Give me your rifle, and I will see whether I cannot bag the fellow for you, for I recognize him as the notorious Hans Schlott." Reaching for Tyler's weapon, he swung it to his shoulder and would have fired had not the Dutchman leapt aside and darted amongst his men. Indeed the knowledge that Tyler was there amongst the attackers seemed suddenly to have caused him to lose his nerve, for as they stared, hoping to catch a good view of him, they saw his figure pushing through the throng of frantic natives, and presently he was at the entrance to the stockade. "Halt!" shouted Tyler, standing in his excitement and at once becoming the target for a hundred rifles. "Hans Schlott, I call upon you to stop and hand yourself over to justice! Move a step forward and I will shoot you like a dog!" As he spoke he stretched out his hand and took his rifle from Captain Keppel. Then, raising it to his shoulder, he covered the Dutchman and waited for his answer. Had he been an older man, and one more full of wariness, no doubt he would have fired then and there and ended the matter. But Tyler hesitated, and the moment gave Hans Schlott his liberty. At the sound of Tyler's voice he stopped abruptly and swung round, displaying features which were livid with terror. His lips moved as if he were repeating the order and the warning. Then, as the thought of flight occurred to him, he suddenly threw himself upon the ground, and, diving forward, was behind the bamboo barricade before the shot could reach him. Then, with terror written upon his face and the fear of death in his heart, he leapt to his feet and went scampering away through the town and out into the jungle. As for Tyler, seeing that he had missed his mark, he rapidly reloaded, determined to capture his man when the stockade was taken. "Ah! here are some of the boats, so we will pull for the bank," shouted Captain Keppel a moment later. "Give way, my lads, and do not let it be said that we were the last to set foot in the enemy's fort." With a cheer the crew of the gig bent to their oars, and, helped by the tide, soon brought the boat up to the bank. A second earlier one of the cutters had reached the same part, and instantly her commander, a Mr. D'Aeth, led a charge up the slope against the bamboo stockade. Leaping into the water, Tyler was only a few paces behind him, and, accompanied by a collection of sailors and marines, dashed at the stockade. Behind them, racing for the same goal as soon as their boats deposited them upon the bank, came more of the men of the _Dido_, and amongst them Dyaks and natives of Borneo. Here and there shots rang out in the air, and shrill cries resounded. Then a sheet of flame suddenly licked round the central hut, and almost before it could have been thought possible Paddi was burning to the ground, while the host of warriors who had manned the stockade, and who in their time had wrought such misery, were fleeing for their lives, with a score and more of hungry Dyaks at their heels, who longed for this opportunity of revenge, and for the heads which victory might bring. "And now for the other fellows, and then we will follow up the river," said Captain Keppel. "You will naturally want to go in pursuit, Mr. Richardson, and therefore you will at once report to Mr. Horton. Ask him to take you in his own boat, and tell him, with my compliments, that he is to do all that is possible to capture the rogue who led these pirates. Now, to the gig, my lads, and let us clear the neighbourhood!" Filled with exultation at the success which had attended their efforts, and at the thought that they had suffered little loss, the sailors and marines soon sent the remainder of the enemy flying, and then prepared to follow them with a readiness which showed that their hearts were in the matter. Dividing into two parties, one at once set to work to dismantle the forts and toss the guns into the river, while the other boarded the pinnace, and with the Rajah for company, and Lieutenant Horton in command, ascended the tributary which entered the river Sarebus on the right of the spit of land upon which Paddi had been built. A short pull, however, disclosed the fact that it was too shallow for navigation, even with boats drawing so little water. The expedition returned, therefore, and, having rested and eaten, pulled for the tributary on the left, the very one along which Tyler and his natives had approached the piratical stronghold. "They will wait for us higher up, and will make a stand there," said the Rajah. "If we can come up with them during the day we shall be able to scatter them, for they are thoroughly upset at our success, and only want a little more to persuade them that they are beaten. Then they will come in and ask for terms. But you will have to be careful, Mr. Horton, for the river is very narrow, and you may be certain that hundreds of eyes are watching us from the jungle. We must never give them an opportunity of rushing us." Carefully keeping his pinnace in the centre of the stream, the lieutenant placed himself between the Rajah and Tyler, for he knew that both had had experience of the pirates, and was anxious to be in reach of advice. Then, with the tars pulling with all their might, and the marines with loaded weapons in readiness for instant action, he steered his craft so as to avoid all obstacles. Presently there was the sound of gongs from the jungle, and ere long hundreds of the enemy were to be seen. "They are in force," said the Rajah, "that is evident, and I fancy that we shall have some difficulty in ferreting them out. Listen to the fellows! Why, they make even more noise than before." That the natives were aroused was very evident, for as the pinnace came within sight of the thick jungle which they had selected for defence, the crash of gongs and war-drums became deafening, while shrill cries of anger and defiance filled the air. "Just let them see that we can make a noise too," sang out the lieutenant cheerily. "Steady there, my lads! Hang on your oars while we get the gun ranged! You can fire when you are ready, gunner." "Ay, ay, sir. Grape, or shall I give the varmint a ball?" "The first, please, and send it well amongst them." "You can trust me for that, sir. I've waited for this here day for a year back, and bust me--" The remainder of his conversation became inaudible as he turned to the twelve-pounder and began to adjust the sights; but that he was in earnest was clear, for he paid particular attention to the levelling of the weapon, taking so much time that those who were looking on could almost have struck him, so greatly was their patience tried. But now all was in readiness, and with a glance at his commander the gunner of the pinnace sent the contents of his weapon splattering into the forest. At once a deafening babel of shouts and shrieks arose, while a hail of slugs, leaden pellets, and pieces of iron and stone came swishing in the direction of the pinnace. "Marines to watch and pick off their men. Pull, my lads, and let us give them the cold steel," sang out the lieutenant, standing in his place to watch the enemy. "Now, all together, send her ahead." There was no confusion on the pinnace, thanks to the fact that all had been previously arranged, and to the discipline which existed. In a moment the bows were pointing for the bank, and hardly had the keel grated, and the twelve-pounder again spoken out, than more than half of those aboard sprang ashore. Seizing cutlasses, they waited only to allow their officers to take post in advance, when they went pell-mell for the enemy. "Keep together, lads, and be sure that you do not separate from your comrades," shouted the lieutenant, for the jungle was extremely dense, and to have rushed into its midst without any caution would certainly have led to death. But the men who composed the expedition were hardened to warfare and were perfectly steady. By no means lacking the necessary dash, they, for all that, held themselves together, and, without losing their heads in the excitement of the moment, obeyed their officers to the full. Bearing to the left, where a number of the enemy were located, the gallant little band threw itself upon them, cutlasses and revolvers meeting kriss and knife, while overhead flew spears thrown by the Dyaks. "Charge!" shrieked Lieutenant Horton as they came to close quarters. "Beat them back and then prepare to retreat." Without glancing back at his men, for he knew well enough that he would not be allowed to attack alone, he rushed at the nearest pirate, and, fending a swishing blow aimed at him with a kriss, cut the man down with his sword. The Rajah was beside him, and he too was confronted by a formidable pirate. But there was no standing against him, for this Rajah was the Englishman whose name was known and feared far and wide, and who had shown that he was as good in the fight as he was in ordering the affairs of the people of Sarawak. An arm shot from his shoulder, and the fist lit full upon the face of the nearest pirate, while a shot from his revolver sent a second sprawling to the ground. A third at once took to his heels, an example which his comrades instantly followed. As for Tyler, a busy three minutes was before him. Running beside the Rajah and the lieutenant, he had at once become engaged with the enemy, and had shot down a man with his weapon. Then in the background he once again caught sight of the familiar, bulky figure of the Dutchman, and, instantly forgetting the caution which had been given, he rushed forward, hoping to capture him. "The murderer!" he shouted at the top of his voice. "After him!" Forgetful of the danger he would incur, and of the fact that he was disobeying an order, he plunged forward and snatched at the collar of Hanns Schlott, while he held a revolver to his ear. A second later he was hurled aside by a Dyak who happened to be close beside his rascally leader, and hardly had he reached the earth than his opponent was standing over him, about to bury a murderous-looking kriss in his body. "Fire!" shouted a voice some few yards away, and instantly, as if the order had been meant for him, Tyler pressed a trigger and brought his opponent stumbling upon his face. "And now for Hanns Schlott," he called out, springing to his feet and looking about him. "Where is he? Surely he has not escaped." "He has, sure enough," was the reply, in the well-known voice of John Marshall. "This kind of thing is too much for a chap like him. But we'd better be going, sir, for our chaps are retiring, and we ought never to have come so far." That the advice was good was certain, and turning at once the two ran back to the main party, a shower of spears and a few bullets following them. Then the order was given to make for the pinnace, and very shortly all were aboard, staring into the jungle, while the twelve-pounder broke the silence with its boom. "Looks as though we were surrounded," said the Rajah, turning his head. "Shots are coming from the jungle on either side, and from ahead also. Then I can see numbers of the enemy behind." "Then we had better see how we are to get out of the muddle," replied the lieutenant coolly. "Ah, there's the spot, for us! Over with the tiller there, and head her for that little bay." He pointed to a portion of the bank where there was a bend, and where in the course of many years the earth had been washed away till quite a little bay had been formed, with a perpendicular bank. And into this the pinnace and the few native boats which also formed part of the expedition were rowed. "Marines to remain in the pinnace and keep up a musketry fire," cried the lieutenant in the calmest tones. "Men of the _Dido_ to climb the bank and take up position there." In a moment the tars were over the side, wading through the shallow water, and ere long had scrambled to the level of the jungle. "A few minutes with their cutlasses would be a good thing, I think," the Rajah ventured to suggest. "I know these pirates well, and if you leave them cover through which to crawl they will be a constant danger and annoyance." "Quite so, and many thanks, Rajah! I had not thought of that. Now, lads," continued the lieutenant, "all lie down and get your muskets ready. Mr. Richardson, take a party of twelve forward, and cut down the reeds and grass within thirty yards." It seemed quite natural to Tyler to touch his cap and answer "Ay, ay, sir," and then, picking his men haphazard, he went to carry out the order. When that was done, the marines and sailors lay down flat upon the ground, firing now and again, but only when a figure showed itself. And round about them every tree hid an enemy, while the jungle was alive with the voices of the pirates, and the incessant jangle of gongs and the beat of war-drums. Spears flashed in the sunlight, cast by hands which could not be seen, while a shower of darts and arrows hissed through the air and struck the ground within a few inches of the defenders. And, drowning every other sound, the twelve-pounder every now and again spoke out, as it sent a charge of grape amidst the pirates. When darkness came it found Tyler and his friends in sorry plight, surrounded by enemies, and deafened by the clamour which came from every quarter of the jungle. CHAPTER XX The End of the Chase "Ahoy there! Horton, ahoy! Where are you, Rajah?" Strangely weird and uncanny did the sounds appear as they left the lips of Captain Keppel and floated across the rushing stream away into the jungle. "Ahoy! Ahoy!" Three times in succession did the gallant commander give tongue to the words as he sat in his gig with his gun across his knees. Then, hearing the beat of gongs and of drums, and the shouts of the combatants, and detecting no voice which he could recognize as coming from his junior or from the Rajah of Sarawak, he lifted his weapon and fired it in the direction from which the loudest sounds came. "Ahoy!" back came the answering shout, but almost drowned by the noise of shallow water rushing over a pebbly bottom. "Ahoy there! Don't fire or you will hit one of us. We are dead ahead of you." "Then we will join you," called out the captain, and at once his gig, in which he had set out to relieve or help the forward party immediately prolonged firing had been heard, was rowed towards the bay in which the native craft lay, and just outside which the pinnace was moored, so as to allow her to make use of her gun. Weird indeed, and hazardous in the extreme, was the position in which the British lay, and as he reclined upon the grass, with the Rajah on one side of him and John Marshall on the other, Tyler had to confess that never before had he been in a worse predicament. "We were in a tight place when upon the schooner," he whispered to his companion, the boatswain, "and that rock, where Li Sung and I were caught and surrounded was a ticklish position, but here there is no knowing where the enemy are. They are everywhere, and bullets and spears come from every direction. Halloo! There's a shot, and that is Captain Keppel's voice or I am much mistaken." A few seconds later the crew of the gig joined hands with Lieutenant Horton's party, and a council of war was held, the Rajah joining in, together with Tyler. "Come," said Captain Keppel in pleasant tones, "we of the navy do not pretend to know everything, and there is no doubt that in a case like this, when the lives of all our men are at stake, the best advice should be taken. You have had experience with these people, Rajah, and so have you, young Richardson. What shall we do? For my part I fancy that it will take us all our time to keep the enemy from rushing in upon us." "I cannot see that we can do otherwise than remain here and do our best," was the emphatic answer, "for if we attempt to retire we may very well get into greater difficulties, and besides, it is a bad thing to give way before these fellows." "Not to be thought of," burst in the captain with energy. "Either we remain, or we go forward." "Why not scatter the men a little, keeping them sufficiently close to allow them to regain the centre with ease, and yet so far apart as to extend their radius of fire?" asked Tyler as the commander of the _Dido_ turned to him. "Then if the men were instructed only to discharge their muskets when they actually saw one of the enemy, the latter might think that we were retiring, and might be induced to show up a little more. In that case we should give them a lesson." "Capital! The lad has a head for these situations," exclaimed Captain Keppel. "We will do as he suggests and see what happens. As we have heard very truly, we are running the danger here of being rushed and of being slowly picked off, while the enemy are never seen. Let us entice them forward and then give them a few volleys. Come, I will take post on the left, and, Mr. Richardson, oblige me by going to the right. Rajah, will you come with me? while our lieutenant takes the post of honour in the centre." The matter was arranged without further delay, and very shortly the movement had been carried out in absolute silence. With John Marshall beside him, Tyler crept into the jungle on the right, and, holding close to the bank of the river, pushed on till the voices of some of the enemy were close at hand. Then, selecting a wooded part, before which the ground was more than usually open, he lay at full length and waited for some of the pirates to appear. "Uncanny work," he whispered in his companion's ear. "I would far rather feel that the others were close at hand; but I suggested the movement and must carry my part of it through. Keep a bright look-out, and on no account fire unless I give the order." Spread like a fan round the edge of the little bay, the sailors and marines took up their positions in couples, for even the boldest of men are apt to take fright when sent out into an unknown part in the darkness, and with enemies close at hand. Then silence came over the British force, and even the twelve-pounder, which had at intervals deafened all those within reach, and drowned the babel of the enemy, ceased its clamour. In silence, with locks at full cock and pieces at their shoulders, the men of the expedition waited; and as they lay there the deep and sonorous tones of hundreds of gongs came to an end also, and the war-drums remained unbeaten. Even the shouts and the babel of voices died down, and presently the jungle was at peace. "One would imagine that we were alone," whispered Tyler. "But you may be sure that every tree hides some dark figure, and that away behind, out of hearing of ourselves, those who are leading the enemy are talking the matter over. Look over there. There are lights, and there is the sound of an axe." He pointed to the right, up-stream, some fifty yards away, and both saw three dark figures standing close beside the water, holding torches above their heads. With them were some twenty others, who were attacking the trunks of the trees which grew on the edge of the bank, evidently with the object of causing them to fall across the stream. "They want to keep us from going farther, which makes it look as though they had taken their women and children and their wealth to some spot up this tributary," said Tyler in low tones. "It will take them a little time to get through those trunks, so that we can leave them to it for the present. But later on we shall have to fire at them and drive them away. I wonder whether they will do the same down-stream, and so bar our retreat should we have cause to fly?" The question was one which could not fail to cause him anxiety, for then the safety of all in the expedition would be jeopardized. But he had little time to think about it, for scarcely had his attention again returned to the jungle in front of him when some dozen dusky figures appeared, creeping across the open space which separated them from the bank. Instantly the muskets covered them, fingers went to the triggers, while heads sank down to the right till the eye could glance along the sights. But so deep was the gloom that that was impossible; so that those who were defending the position could only point their weapons where they thought the enemy were, in the hope of hitting them. "Fire!" In stentorian tones the command came from the captain of the _Dido_, and at once a volley burst from the waiting men, causing the enemy to come to a halt, and then take to their heels with shrill cries of terror. Then once more the shouting and the incessant beat of gongs was heard, while the jungle became alive with moving figures, who fired at their foes and sent spears and arrows swishing in their direction. "Now for the others," said Tyler, noticing that those who were engaged in cutting the trees were still at their work. "Ready? Then let them have a bullet." Both fired together, while, ere the report of their rifles had died down, the boom of the twelve-pounder was heard, and a mass of grape went crashing in amongst the trees. "That will be their last effort," said Tyler. "They must have lost heavily during the night, and seeing that we are not intending to retire they will begin to feel hopeless. To-morrow, when we start to ascend the river, they will feel that their cause is ruined." And this proved to be the case. Lying or squatting upon the edge of the bank, the British force spent the long hours of darkness in keeping watch and in firing occasionally into the trees. Morning found them worn out with their exertions, and some of them actually asleep in spite of the danger. But a call from their leader soon brought them to their feet, and at once they prepared to embark. "Get aboard, and smartly, my lads," he called out in cheery tones. "We have shown those fellows that we are not to be easily driven off, and now that the morning has come we will let them see that we have plenty of life left in us. Aboard, all of you, and let us hurry, for I am hungry, and until the matter is ended we shall be unable to breakfast." The words brought a cheer and a shout of merriment from the sailors and marines, and all at once leapt to obey him. Soon the pinnace was manned, and with the gunner at his piece, and the marines with weapons ready, began to push up the river, followed by the gig in which sat Captain Keppel. Hardly had they rowed fifty yards when a man appeared with a white flag, and very soon the Rajah of Sarawak was engaged in conversation with him. "Their women and children and all their possessions are up the stream," he said, when he had questioned the Malay, "and so they wish to lay down their arms on any terms, but with the hope that we will spare those who are helpless." "Where is their leader?" asked the commander of the _Dido_. "They must hand him over to me immediately, for he is a murderer, and I have more interest in capturing the fellow than in taking hundreds of these natives." "They say that that is impossible," was the Rajah's answer, when he had again spoken with the Malay who bore the white flag. "Hanns Schlott, the murderer, bolted early in the night, and has not been seen since." "Then they must provide trackers and a force to go in search," said Captain Keppel without hesitation. "Mr. Richardson, you will take half a dozen men and go in command, for I will not deprive you of a task which belongs to you by rights. Get your breakfast at once, and set out as soon as you can. Now, Rajah, we will discuss this matter in full, and then I fancy that you, like myself, will be glad of something to eat." At a shout from the Malay several of the head men amongst the pirates came forward, and entered into conversation with the great white man of whom all had heard. Thanks to the fact that the Rajah spoke the language like a native of Borneo the negotiations were soon completed, and in less than half an hour it had been arranged that a final meeting should take place in the afternoon, when the terms to be granted should be published. When that hour arrived, the chiefs came forward once more, looking dejected and down at heart, and sat down in a circle about the Rajah. Great was their surprise and delight when they were told that only hostages would be required for their good behaviour, and that they were to abstain from piracy, or their country would be again invaded. Beyond that there was no punishment, but they were urgently advised to take to trade and live at peace with their neighbours. As for Tyler, he was delighted with the permission given him, and with the thought that the capture of the murderer was to be left to him entirely. Hastily gulping down a breakfast, he took his place at the head of the six men whom he had selected, and at once called for the natives who were to lead the party. Then he plunged into the jungle in their wake, for all the world as if these guides were the Dyaks whom he had met farther along the coast, and they were making their way to Sarawak. "Dutchman here," said one of the trackers suddenly, coming to a halt and pointing eagerly at the ground. "Here," he said, making use of the small stock of English which he possessed. "Follow, and we catch." Like hounds let loose upon the trail the party of Malays and Dyaks who were leading plunged through the jungle, taxing the strength of Tyler and his men to the full. For an hour they kept on without a halt, and just as Tyler was about to call to them and beg of them to stop for a time, their leader threw his arms into the air, and spread them out, as a signal to all that he had made a discovery. "Come along here," he said, pointing with his finger to the trail left by the Dutchman as he fled. "Him big and heavy, and him sit there. See?" Tyler glanced at the spot, and at once grasped the fact that Hanns Schlott had rested himself upon the root of a tree. But he could not tell that which was clear to the native. "Him have gun," said the latter positively. "Him sit and point into tree. Then him let gun drop beside him. There are the marks." As if he had actually witnessed the act, the man pointed to some scratches upon the bark where the lock of the gun must have struck. Then he led Tyler a few paces ahead, drawing his attention to the trail as he did so. "Him silly," he said with a disdainful smile for the memory of his old leader. "Ever since he take the boat from the Englishman and kill the owner, him so silly. Him frightened at him own shadow. See here. He start and turn round at every step. Him stop and raise the rifle. Him fire. Look!" The eagle glance of this pirate allowed nothing to escape him, and as he spoke he drew Tyler's attention to various spots. Before them ran the trail, still freshly shown by the trampled grass and reed. And as the tracker had said, it came to a stop here and there, while a small patch was more trodden than the other. Here it was that Hanns Schlott, the cowardly Dutchman, and the villain who had murdered Mr. Beverley, had halted to stare about him. His conscience perhaps disturbed him. Or he imagined that he heard a sound, or saw a figure. Fear of capture and of death unnerved him, and, giving credence to his imagination, he peered amidst the jungle, and then fired his piece at some shadow. Yes, that was what had happened, for Tyler could see with his own eyes the huge patch where the shot had struck a tree close at hand and ripped the bark from it. "We shall have to be careful," he said, "or this fellow will be shooting us as we come up with him. He is a desperate man, and will stop at nothing." "Looks as if he was daft," burst in John Marshall. "Seems to me as if the trouble had turned his head. But the fellow's beckoning, sir. He wants us to go ahead." "He not far away. Soon find the Dutchman," said the Malay, dragging his kriss from his pocket. "Shall he be killed, or taken a prisoner?" "The last," was Tyler's answer, "for he has a crime to answer for. Come, push ahead and let us capture him." Once more the party of natives and Englishmen took up the trail, and a mile farther on were rewarded by the sound of a rifle-shot which suddenly rang out in the jungle. Instantly they redoubled their pace, and did not halt till the leading Malay again threw his arms into the air and motioned to them to do so. A moment or two later their eyes fell upon the figure of Hanns Schlott. But what a change! Once a burly individual, with enormous, unwieldy limbs and rounded cheeks, he was now a haggard man. True, the time had been too short to allow of much change in his weight or in his general appearance; but it was the Dutchman's face and eyes which attracted attention, while the droop of his head, the stoop of his broad shoulders, added to the change which could be observed. No longer was he the leader of a band of pirates whose ill fame had spread far and wide, and who committed any sort of atrocity with impunity. He was a criminal escaping from the law, and every shadow, each tree and bush, contained one of the pursuers. That young Englishman who had been aboard the schooner when the murder of Mr. Beverley was carried out was forever in his memory, and each object which his imagination conjured into human shape was Tyler's figure. Our hero's name was forever on his lips, and each shot from his smoking rifle was meant to pierce his body. "That killed him! I saw the bullet strike on his body and perforate," the Dutchman was shouting as Tyler and his friends came up with the fugitive. "Ha, ha, ha! At last I have paid off the score. He said he would follow me and hang me, and instead I drove him ashore. Then he went to Paddi and robbed us of our prahus. For that my shot has paid. And now to give him what is due, to return in full the trouble which he has caused me. I will go within an inch of him, and will place the muzzle against his ear. Then I shall be free." As he spoke Hanns Schlott glared at one portion of the jungle, with eyes which seemed to protrude from their sockets and to be capable of seeing nothing else. Then he grasped his rifle with feverish hands, and in spite of the fact that it was still hot rammed a charge in. Then another thought came to his tortured mind, and he clutched his head in despair. "Beaten!" he shouted in high-pitched tones. "Even then I am not sure of my life, for there is another. The beggarly sailor, John Marshall they called him, knew of the deed. He saw it, and swore, too, that he would follow me to the end of the world. Of what use to struggle further?" He paused in the process of ramming down a charge, and attempted to consider the question. But his wits had gone astray, and, unable to grasp the matter, his mind again turned to Tyler. "What!" he screamed, suddenly facing about, and pointing at another part of the jungle. "He is still alive and laughs at me. Ha!" His face was like a demon's as, gun in hand, he crept stealthily towards the spot in which he fancied his victim was hidden. The lips twitched and were withdrawn from the teeth. The pallid cheeks hung loosely and quivered, while the eyes blazed with the intensity of the madness which filled him. Falling upon his hands and knees, he crawled softly across the leaves and twigs as if anxious not to disturb his enemy. Then once more the rifle came to his shoulder. There was a pause ere the trigger was pressed, and then another report startled the jungle. Ere the echoes had died down the madman had sprung forward and hurled himself upon a twisted tree which he had imagined to be his victim. It was a terrible sight to look upon, and filled Tyler and his little party with horror; for never before had it been their lot to watch the ravings of a madman bereft of his senses through fear of the consequences of his crime. It was horrible to watch, and our hero at once decided to put a stop to it. "His weapon is empty now," he whispered to his men, "and therefore we will capture him. Separate at once and get into position. When you are ready I will give the word, and we will make a rush. Quick! for I see that he is sitting down and getting ready to ram down another charge." Realizing the importance of haste in the matter, the tars rapidly scattered, and ere long had formed a cordon about the madman. Then, at a shout from Tyler they threw themselves upon him and made him their prisoner. His weapon was taken from him and his arms bound, for he was frantic with rage. Then the murderer, who had already suffered much for his crime, was led back through the forest, and in the course of time found his way to Singapore. But no gallows waited for him, for another form of punishment was to be his. An asylum for criminal lunatics became his home, where for years he dragged out a terrible existence. As for Tyler, satisfied at the thought that he had done what was right in the matter, he reported his arrival to his commander and waited for further orders. Nor had he long to wait, for once Paddi had been destroyed, and the pirates defeated, the expedition turned its attention to Pakoo, which was easily captured. Then came the turn of Rembas, where severe resistance was met with. But the British were not to be turned back, and in spite of the hot fire directed against them, and the numbers of the enemy, they pushed forward and took the place. Then, feeling that they had done all that was possible, they returned to Sarawak with the knowledge that a scourge had been put down, and that something more had been done to bring about the peace for which the Rajah of Sarawak strove. For Tyler there was little merry-making, for a bullet had struck him in the elbow as he charged against the stockade at Rembas, and that same evening he had lain in an open boat, with teeth fast set, while the surgeons amputated the limb. But he had gone through so much already that this was not likely to disturb him very much. Indeed, within a month he was up and about, and ere long back at his duty. Years have passed since then, and the lad who went down into the hold of the grain ship alone to rescue the unconscious officers, and who afterwards led a tribe of Dyaks in far-away Borneo, is an old man, who steps with far less agility than in those young days. But the old spirit is there. The white beard and moustache, with their decidedly nautical cut, cannot disguise the square chin and the firm lips. The eyes sparkle as of yore, and return a glance without flinching, while even now there is a swing in the shoulders, a poise of the head, which distinguishes Tyler. Yes, in spite of the loss of an arm, he has led a life of activity, and has only recently settled down to enjoy the remainder of his allotted years peacefully and in quietness. In his time, while on active service with the Royal Navy, he has seen much fighting, has experienced many an adventure. But it is safe to say that never has he encountered so much danger as in the old days, when fighting close to the men of the _Dido_ and with the Dyaks of Borneo. PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN _At the Villafield Press, Glasgow, Scotland_ "English boys owe a debt of gratitude to Mr. Henty."--_Athenæum_. Blackie & Son's Illustrated Story Books LARGE CROWN 8VO, CLOTH EXTRA, OLIVINE EDGES G. A. HENTY At Agincourt: A Tale of the White Hoods of Paris. _New Edition_. 3_s._ 6_d._ "Mr. Henty's admirers--and they are many--will accord a hearty welcome to the sturdy volume entitled _At Agincourt."_--_Athenæum_. 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7489	----	THROUGH CENTRAL BORNEO AN ACCOUNT OF TWO YEARS' TRAVEL IN THE LAND OF THE HEAD-HUNTERS BETWEEN THE YEARS 1913 AND 1917 BY CARL LUMHOLTZ MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY OF SCIENCES OF CHRISTIANIA, NORWAY GOLD MEDALLIST OF THE NORWEGIAN GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY ASSOCIÉ ÉTRANGER DE LA SOCIÉTÉ DE L'ANTHROPOLOGIE DE PARIS, ETC. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS BY THE AUTHOR AND WITH MAP We may safely affirm that the better specimens of savages are much superior to the lower examples of civilized peoples. _Alfred Russel Wallace._ PREFACE Ever since my camping life with the aborigines of Queensland, many years ago, it has been my desire to explore New Guinea, the promised land of all who are fond of nature and ambitious to discover fresh secrets. In furtherance of this purpose their Majesties, the King and Queen of Norway, the Norwegian Geographical Society, the Royal Geographical Society of London, and Koninklijk Nederlandsch Aardrijkskundig Genootschap, generously assisted me with grants, thus facilitating my efforts to raise the necessary funds. Subscriptions were received in Norway, also from American and English friends, and after purchasing the principal part of my outfit in London, I departed for New York in the autumn of 1913, en route for the Dutch Indies. In 1914, having first paid a visit to the Bulungan, in northeast Borneo, in order to engage the necessary Dayaks, I was preparing to start for Dutch New Guinea when the war broke out. Under these changed conditions his Excellency, the Governor-General, A.W.F. Idenburg, regretted his inability to give me a military escort and other assistance needed for carrying out my plan, and advised me to await a more favorable opportunity. During this interval, having meanwhile visited India, I decided to make an expedition through Central Borneo, large tracts of which are unexplored and unknown to the outside world. My project was later extended to include other regions of Dutch Borneo, and the greater part of two years was spent in making researches among its very interesting natives. In these undertakings I received the valuable assistance of their Excellencies, the governor-general and the commanding general, as well as the higher officials of the Dutch Government, to all of whom I wish to express my heartfelt thanks. Through the courtesy of the well-known Topografische Inrichting, in Batavia, a competent surveyor, whose work will later be published, was attached to my expeditions. He did not accompany me on my first visit to the Bulungan, nor on the second occasion, when I went to the lake of Sembulo, where the country is well known. In the map included in this book I have indicated the locations of the different tribes in Dutch Borneo, based on information gathered from official and private sources and on my own observations. I usually had a taxidermist, first a trained Sarawak Dayak, later a Javanese, to collect mammals and birds. Fishes and reptiles were also preserved in alcohol. Specimens of ethnological interest were collected from the different tribes visited; the collection from the Penihings I believe is complete. Measurements of 227 individuals were taken and as soon as practicable will be worked out by Doctor K.S. Schreiner, professor at the University of Christiania. Vocabularies were collected from most of the tribes. In spite of adverse conditions, due to climate and the limitations under which I travelled, a satisfactory collection of photographic plates and films was brought back. With few exceptions, these photographs were taken by myself. For the pictures facing page 26 I am indebted to Doctor J.C. Koningsberger, President of the Volksraad, Buitenzorg, Java. Those facing pages 16 and 17 were taken by Mr. J.F. Labohm. The lower picture facing page 286 was taken by Mr. A.M. Erskine. My observations on the tribes are recorded in conformity with my itinerary, and include the Kayans, Kenyahs, Murungs, Penyahbongs, Saputans, the nomadic Punans and Bukits, Penihings, Oma-Sulings, Long-Glats, Katingans, Duhoi (Ot-Danums), and the Tamoans. On one or two occasions when gathering intelligence from natives I was very fortunate in my informants--an advantage which will be appreciated by any one who has undertaken a similar errand and has enjoyed the keen satisfaction experienced when drawing the veil from primitive thought which lies so near and yet so far away. Circumstances naturally prevented me from making a thorough study of any tribe, but I indulge the hope that the material here presented may prove in some degree acceptable to the specialist as well as to the general reader. Matter that was thought to be of purely anthropological interest is presented in a special supplement. Above all, I have abstained from generalities, to which one might be tempted on account of the many similarities encountered in the tribes that were visited. Without the light of experience it is impossible to imagine how much of interest and delight there is in store for the student of man's primitive condition. However, as the captain of Long Iram said to me in Long Pahangei, "One must have plenty of time to travel in Borneo." I have pleasure in recording here the judicious manner in which the Dutch authorities deal with the natives. On a future occasion I shall hope to be able to publish a detailed report on several of the novel features of my Bornean collections, especially as regards decorative art, the protective wooden carvings called kapatongs, the flying boat, etc. The first collections sent to Norway ran the risks incident to war. Most of them were rescued from the storehouses at Antwerp after the German occupation, through the exertions of the Norwegian Foreign Office, though a smaller part, chiefly zoölogical, appears to have been lost in Genoa. Count Nils Gyldenstolpe, of the Natural History Museum, Vetenskapsakademien in Stockholm, who is determining the mammals collected, informs me that so far a new species of flying maki and two new subspecies of flying squirrels have been described. To further my enterprise, liberal gifts of supplies were received from various firms in Christiania: preserved milk from Nestle & Anglo-Swiss Condensed Milk Co., tobacco from Tiedemann's Fabrik, alcohol for preserving specimens from Löitens Braenderi, cacao from Freia Chokolade Fabrik. A medical outfit was presented by Mr. E. Sissener, Apotheket "Kronen," Christiania, and Messrs. Burrows, Wellcome & Co., of London, placed at my disposal three of their excellent medicinal travelling-cases. I want to express my appreciation of many services rendered by the Nederlandsche Handel-Maatschappij and its branches, especially the Factorij in Batavia. I am under similar obligations to the Koninklijke Paketvaart-Maatschappij, and my thanks are also due to De Scheepsagentuur for courtesies received. Miss Ethel Newcomb, of New York, has kindly transcribed the two songs rendered. Finally I desire to make grateful acknowledgment of valuable assistance rendered by Doctor J.C. Koningsberger, and by Doctor W. van Bemmelen, director of Koninklijk Magnetisch en Meteorologisch Observatorium, Weltevreden, Batavia. Although force of circumstances altered the scope and to some extent the character of this expedition, nevertheless my Bornean experiences afforded great satisfaction. Moreover, my sojourn in the equatorial regions of the East has imbued me with an even stronger desire to carry out my original purpose, which I hope to accomplish in the near future. CARL LUMHOLTZ NEW YORK, April, 1920. CONTENTS CHAPTER I DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK--A RACE WITH THE IMPERIAL LIMITED--IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN--SINGAPORE--ARRIVAL AT BATAVIA, JAVA--BUITENZORG--BORO BUDUR, THE WONDROUS BUDDHIST MONUMENT CHAPTER II BORNEO--CLIMATIC AND BIOLOGICAL CONDITIONS--NATURAL RESOURCES--POPULATION-- HISTORY--GOVERNMENT OF THE NATIVES--RACIAL PROBLEMS. CHAPTER III BANDJERMASIN, THE PRINCIPAL TOWN IN DUTCH BORNEO--NORTHWARD ALONG THE EAST COAST--BALIK PAPAN, AN OIL PRODUCING CENTRE--SAMARINDA--TANDJONG SELOR--THE SULTAN--UP THE KAYAN RIVER. CHAPTER IV AN EXPEDITION INTO THE JUNGLE--FIRST IMPRESSIONS--RAPID CHANGE IN THE DENSENESS OF VEGETATION--ANIMAL LIFE--A STUBBORN FIGHT CHAPTER V MEETING PUNANS, THE SHY JUNGLE PEOPLE--DOWN THE RIVER AGAIN--MY ENTHUSIASTIC BOATMEN--MALAYS VERSUS DAYAKS CHAPTER VI RESUMPTION OF MY JOURNEY UP THE KAYAN RIVER--LONG PANGIAN--BERI-BERI-- HINTS ON PROPER PROVISIONS--KENYAHS FROM CENTRAL BORNEO--EFFECT OF A SPIDER'S BITE CHAPTER VII ON THE ISAU RIVER--A KENYAH CHILD'S FUNERAL--A GREAT FISHING EXPEDITION-- CATCHING FISH BY POISONING THE RIVER--TAKING OMENS--ENTERTAINING SCENES CHAPTER VIII THE JOURNEY CONTINUED UP THE KAYAN RIVER--FIRST EXPERIENCE OF KIHAMS, OR RAPIDS--WITH KENYAH BOATMEN--ADVANTAGE OF NATIVE COOKING--LONG PELABAN--THE ATTRACTIVE KENYAHS--SOCIAL STRATA--CUSTOMS AND HABITS--VALUABLE BEADS CHAPTER IX HYDROPHOBIA--FUNERAL CEREMONIES--AT A PADDI HARVEST--ANOTHER TUBA-FISHING EXPEDITION--THE CHARM OF PRIMITIVE MAN--INTERESTING CEREMONIES--ON HEADHUNTING GROUND CHAPTER X IN FOG AND DARKNESS--A RAID BY ANTS--DEPARTURE FROM LONG PELABAN--AN EXCITING PASSAGE--RETURN TO TAND-JONG SELOR CHAPTER XI DEPARTURE FOR BANDJERMASIN--A PLEASANT STEAMSHIP LINE--TWO HEAD-HUNTERS-- AN EXPEDITION TO LAKE SEMBULO--SAMPIT--THE ORANG-UTAN--STORMY WEATHER--A DISAGREEABLE RECEPTION CHAPTER XII THE WAR CHANGES MY PLANS--CHOLERA--UP THE GREAT BARITO RIVER--PURUK TJAHU--DECIDE TO STAY AMONG THE MURUNGS--A DANCING FEAST CHAPTER XIII DAYAK CURE OF DISEASE-EVIL SPIRITS AND GOOD--ANIMISM--BLIANS, THE PRIEST-DOCTORS--THE FEAST OF RUBBER-GATHERERS--WEDDINGS--IN PRIMITIVE SURROUNDINGS CHAPTER XIV THE SCALY ANT-EATER--THE PORCUPINE--THE BLOW-PIPE--AN UNUSUAL ADVENTURE WITH A SNAKE--HABITS AND CUSTOMS OF THE MURUNGS--AN UNPLEASANT AFFAIR CHAPTER XV FINAL START FOR CENTRAL BORNEO--CHRISTMAS TIME--EXTENT OF MALAY INFLUENCE--THE FLOWERS OF EQUATORIAL REGIONS--AT AN OT-DANUM KAMPONG--THE PICTURESQUE KIHAMS, OR RAPIDS--FORMIDABLE OBSTACLES TO TRAVEL--MALAYS ON STRIKE CHAPTER XVI ARRIVAL AT BAHANDANG--ON THE EQUATOR--A STARTLING ROBBERY--OUR MOST LABORIOUS JOURNEY--HORNBILLS--THE SNAKE AND THE INTREPID PENYAHBONG--ARRIVAL AT TAMALOË CHAPTER XVII THE PENYAHBONGS, MEN OF THE WOODS--RHINOCEROS HUNTERS--CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PENYAHBONGS--EASY HOUSEKEEPING--DAILY LIFE--WOMAN'S LOT CHAPTER XVIII A STRANGE MAMMAL--ANIMAL LIFE IN CENTRAL BORNEO--A SUPERB AND SILENT REALM--VISIT TO A SALT WATER EXUDATION--PASSING THE DIVIDING RIDGE--A MOUSE-DEER CHASE--ON THE KASAO RIVER CHAPTER XIX THE SAPUTANS--HOW THE EARS OF THE CHIEF WERE PIERCED--AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK OF FILARIASIS--DEPARTURE FROM THE SAPUTANS--DOWN THE KASAO RIVER--"TOBOGGANING" THE KIHAMS CHAPTER XX ARRIVAL ON THE MAHAKAM RIVER--AMONG THE PENIHINGS--LONG KAI, A PLEASANT PLACE--A BLIAN'S SHIELD--PUNANS AND BUKATS, SIMPLE-MINDED NOMADS--EXTREME PENALTY FOR UNFAITHFULNESS--LONG TJEHAN CHAPTER XXI AN EXCURSION DOWN THE RIVER--LONG PAHANGEI--THE OMASULINGS--THE GREAT TRIENNIAL FESTIVAL--HOSPITABLE NATIVES--INCIDENTS IN PHOTOGRAPHY CHAPTER XXII DAYAK DOGS--A FUNERAL ON THE MAHAKAM--OUR RETURN JOURNEY--AGAIN AT LONG TJEHAN--IN SEARCH OF A UNIQUE ORCHID--A BURIAL CAVE CHAPTER XXIII A PROFITABLE STAY--MAGNIFICENT FRUITS OF BORNEO--OMEN BIRDS--THE PENIHINGS IN DAILY LIFE--TOP PLAYING--RELIGIOUS IDEAS--CURING DISEASE CHAPTER XXIV HEAD-HUNTING, ITS PRACTICE AND PURPOSE CHAPTER XXV DEPARTURE FROM THE PENIHINGS--FRUIT-EATING FISH--ANOTHER CALL AT LONG PAHANGEI--A TRIP UP THE MERASI RIVER--GENIAL NATIVES--AN INOPPORTUNE VISIT--THE DURIAN, QUEEN OF ALL FRUITS CHAPTER XXVI AMONG THE LONG-GLATS--IS FEAR OF EXPOSURE TO THE SUN JUSTIFIED?-- CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LONG-GLATS--GOODBYE TO THE MAHAKAM CHAPTER XXVII CONTINUING THE JOURNEY DOWN THE RIVER--GREAT KIHAMS--BATOKELAU--AT LONG IRAM--LAST STAGES OF OUR JOURNEY--ARRIVAL AT SAMARINDA--HINDU ANTIQUITIES--NATIVE'S SUPERIORITY TO CIVILISED MAN CHAPTER XXVIII AN EARTHQUAKE--ERADICATING THE PLAGUE--THROUGH THE COUNTRY NORTHEAST OF BANDJERMASIN--MARTAPURA AND ITS DIAMOND-FIELDS--PENGARON--THE GIANT PIG--THE BUKITS--WELL-PRESERVED DECORATIVE DESIGNS--AN ATTRACTIVE FAMILY CHAPTER XXIX THE BALEI OR TEMPLE--A LITTLE KNOWN PART OF THE COUNTRY--A COURTEOUS MALAY--POWER OVER ANIMALS--NEGARA. CHAPTER XXX AN EXPEDITION TO THE KATINGAN RIVER--TATUING OF THE ENTIRE BODY--THE GATHERING OF HONEY--A PLEASANT INTERMEZZO--AN UNUSUALLY ARTISTIC PRODUCTION--UP THE SAMBA RIVER--WITH INCOMPETENT BOATMEN CHAPTER XXXI AMONG THE DUHOI (OT-DANUMS)--RICH COLLECTIONS--THE KAPATONGS--THE BATHING OF DAYAK INFANTS--CHRISTMAS EVE--THE FLYING BOAT--MARRIAGE CEREMONIES CHAPTER XXXII AGRICULTURAL PURSUITS--FACTS ABOUT ULU-OTS, THE WILD MEN OF BORNEO--TAKING LEAVE OF THE INTERESTING DUHOI--A VISIT TO THE UPPER KATINGANS--DANCING--FRIENDLY NATIVES--DOWN THE KATINGAN RIVER CHAPTER XXXIII KASUNGAN--THE WEALTH OF THE DAYAKS--ANIMISM--GUARDIANS OF THE DEAD--HUGE SERPENTS--CROCODILES--GOVERNMENT OF DAYS GONE BY--KATINGAN CUSTOMS AND BELIEFS CHAPTER XXXIV FUNERAL CUSTOMS OF THE KATINGANS--DEPARTURE FROM KASUNGAN--AN ATTEMPTED VISIT TO SEMBULO--INDIFFERENT MALAYS--A STRANGE DISEASE--THE BELIEF IN TAILED PEOPLE--THE LEGEND OF THE ANCESTOR OF TAILED MEN CHAPTER XXXV A VISIT TO KUALA KAPUAS--A BREED OF STUMP-TAILED DOGS--THE SHORT-TAILED CATS OF BORNEO--A SECOND EXPEDITION TO LAKE SEMBULO--NATIVES UNDISMAYED BY BERI-BERI--THE TAMOANS--THE PRACTICE OF INCISION FOLKLORE OF SOME OF THE TRIBES IN DUTCH BORNEO VISITED BY THE AUTHOR CONCLUSION SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES TO THE TRIBES IN DUTCH BORNEO VISITED BY THE AUTHOR A SHORT GLOSSARY INDEX ILLUSTRATIONS Carl Lumholtz in the Bulungan, Dutch Borneo, May, 1914 In the jungle of Southern Borneo, near the Sampit River The Giant Taro (_Alocasia Macrorhiza_) The Orang-Utan. A more than half-grown specimen The Long-Nosed Monkey (_Nasalis Larvatus_), peculiar to Borneo The Sultan of Bulungan Chonggat, the author's Dayak collector of animals and birds Approaching Kaburau, on the Kayan River Banglan, a Kayan, and his family. Kaburau Ladders, below Long Pangian, on the Kayan River Young Kayan, from Kaburau Kayan, from Kaburau. Shows a Chinese manner of hair-dressing Kayan from Kaburau. Showing the distended ear lobes Kayan child, Kaburau Kayan mother and infant. Near Long Pangian Punans, the shy nomads of the jungle Punans near my camp Punan using the sumpitan or blowpipe Kayan climbing a tree Kayan at the author's camp, blowing a native wind instrument The King Cobra (_Naia Bungarus_) Young Orang-Utans Kayan, from Kaburau. Front, side, and back views Kayan, in mourning dress, Kaburau Kenyah, from Long Pelaban. Front, side, and back views Tuba fishing on the Isau River Tuba fishing. Taking the augury by fire-making. Isau River Tuba fishing. Effects of the poison. Pipa River Kenyahs starting in the morning for distant Apo Kayan. Long Pangian, Kayan River A funeral house. Near Long Pelaban, Kayan River Long Pelaban, a Kenyah kampong, on the Kayan River The gallery of a communal house, Long Pelaban, Kayan River Kenyah father and child. Long Pelaban, Kayan River Kenyah woman, with large basket used for carrying rice. Long Pelaban, Kayan River A Kenyah's sweetheart removing his eyebrows and eyelashes. Long Pelaban, Kayan River Wrestling. Long Pelaban, Kayan River Kenyah girl, in a woman's usual attire. Long Pelaban, Kayan River Kenyah mother and child, on their daily trips to the Long Pelaban, Kayan River Tuba fishing, at the Pipa River Kenyah ready for a trip to the ladang (fields). Long Pelaban, Kayan River Kenyah in full war attire. Long Pelaban, Kayan River Sacrificing the pig at the festival. Tumbang Marowei Murung women squatting in order to observe the author. Tumbang Marowei Murung man and wife. Tumbang Marowei The beating of gongs furnishes the music at festivals. Tumbang Marowei The Feast of the Rubber Gatherers. Tumbang Marowei Blians, or priest-doctors, at Tumbang Marowei Murung women smoking cigarettes and preparing them from native tobacco and leaves of trees. Tumbang Marowei The Scaly Ant-Eater (_Manis_). Tumbang Marowei Telok Djulo, an Ot-Danum kampong, on the Barito River Ot-Danum, wearing gold breastplates. Telok Djulo Passing the Kiham Mudang, on the Upper Barito River Rough travel by boat on the Upper Barito River Passing the boats up the rapids of the Upper Barito River Part of my provisions, at Bahandang, Busang River Djobing, our efficient Malay Part of the expedition ascending the Busang River Tamaloë, a lately formed Penyahbong kampong Pisha, the good Penyahbong chief. Tamaloë Penyahbong rhino hunters. Tamaloë Penyahbong women. Tamaloë Back view of the Penyahbong women, showing their head-dress Penyahbong, front, side, and back view. Tamaloë The Penyahbong war dance. Tamaloë Saputan, on his way to the ladang (fields) and for the hunt of Babi. Data Láong Saputans, front and side views. Data Láong Saputan, the kapala of Data Láong Saputans showing their war prowess Saputans poling. Data Láong Piercing the ears of the Saputan chief in order to insert a tiger cat's corner teeth. Data Láong Mahakam River, westward view, from the author's tent, at Long Kai Penihings, the kapala of Long Kai and his children Bukat, at Long Kai, front, side, and back views Bukatwomen, at Long Kai, front and side views The Mélah ceremony for imparting health and strength. Long Pahangei Oma-Sulings. Long Pahangei The Dángei hut, a temporary place of worship The Rajá Besar, or great chief, and his wife. Long Pahangei Large wooden drum. Long Pahangei Lidju, a Long-Glat noble, and his wife, the sister of the Rajá Besar. Long Pahangei Cooking rice in bamboo receptacles. Long Pahangei Lung Karang, a limestone hill, near Long Tjehan, on the Mahakam River Penihing burial cave, near the Tjehan River Penihing women carrying water. Long Kai Penihings, from Long Kai Two young Penihings, caught unawares by my camera. Sungei Lobang The durian tree, with fruit. Lulo Pakko, on the Merasi River One of our Javanese soldiers, in undress, carrying two durians. Lulo Pakko, Merasi River A ripe durian opened Three Long-Glat women of the nobility. Long Tujo Back view of the Long-Glat women Long-Glat women. Long Tujo. Front view Long-Glat women. Side and back views Long-Glats, with a native dog. Long Tujo A narrow-snouted crocodile shot by our sergeant below the great rapids of the Mahakam Entrance to the cave of Kong Beng Malays searching for diamonds at Martapura Malay house, near Martapura Malay house at Mandin Bukit women. Mandin Bukit at Lok Besar, front and back views Bukit woman and her two sons. Lok Besar Bukit women with their children. Lok Besar The "Order" of Beraui, and his wife, both Duhoi. Beraui, on the Samba River A Duhoi and his family. Beraui, Samba River A bearded Dayak, front and side views Upper Katingans passing the rapids of Buntut Mangkikit Upper Katingan women dancing. Buntut Mangkikit Upper Katingan family, at Buntut Mangkikit An upper Katingan, of Buntut Mangkikit. Front, side, and back views Upper Katingan women at Buntut Mangkikit, front and side views Samples of Dayak tatuing Women beating small drums and singing. Buntut Mangkikit Protecting against evil spirits. Kasungan Staffs, called pantars, erected in memoriam of the dead, at a kampong below Kuala Samba A wealthy Katingan, at Kasungan A loving pair guarding the dead. Kasungan Sacrifice of eggs to the good spirits. Long Pahangei, Mahakam River Panyanggaran, at Bali, Katingan River Panyanggaran, at Kasungan, Katingan River Tamoans, from Bangkal, Lake Sembulo, front and side views Katingan taking an astronomical observation. Kasungan Kenyah women husking rice. Long Pelaban, Kayan River A tailless dog, sister of the mother of the stump-tailed ones. Bandjermasin The short-tailed domestic cat of Borneo A breed of stump-tailed dogs. Bandjermasin CHAPTER I DEPARTURE FROM NEW YORK--A RACE WITH THE IMPERIAL LIMITED--IMPRESSIONS OF JAPAN--SINGAPORE--ARRIVAL AT BATAVIA, JAVA--BUITENZORG--BORO BUDUR, THE WONDROUS BUDDHIST MONUMENT Having concluded important business matters during a brief stay in New York, I decided to go to Canada to take the express train for Vancouver. It was the last train which made connection with the Canadian Pacific steamer for Hong-Kong, and if I could make it I should save three weeks. With the assurance that I should have a couple of hours latitude, I started in the morning for Montreal. There was no doubt that I should make it unless something unusual delayed the north-bound train, and that is exactly what occurred. The steam power of the brake got out of order, necessitating a stop for repairs, and considerable time was lost. Darkness came on and I began to feel anxious about the prospect of gaining my object. The conductor and his assistant, in the knowledge that I had a through ticket to Hong-Kong, did everything in their power to aid me. Wire messages were sent to have the Imperial Limited Express wait for "a man travelling first-class"; to the custom-house, and also for a cab and four "red caps" to meet me on arrival. The assistant conductor told everybody of the plight of the passenger with the long journey before him, the engineer was prevailed upon to increase his speed; and the passengers began to exhibit interest. A tall Canadian came to me and expressed his belief that I would catch that train, and even if it should be gone there was another a little later by which it might be overtaken. "I shall assist you," he added. As we approached Montreal there were still twelve minutes left. The lights of the city were visible near by, and one of my fellow passengers was in the act of assuring me that my chances were good, when our train suddenly stopped--on account of the bridge being open to permit a ship to pass. Ten minutes lost! I had decided, if necessary, to sacrifice two boxes of honey which I had bought at the last moment, honey and water being my usual drink when on expeditions. The total weight was ninety kilograms, but they were neatly packed in paper and had been allowed to stand at one side of the entrance to the Pullman car. They were an important adjunct of my outfit, but perhaps after all it would be necessary for us to part. Immediately upon the opening of the doors the four porters presented themselves with the encouraging information that they understood the Imperial Limited was waiting. My luggage, including the honey, was hurried on to a large truck, my Canadian friend throwing his on too, and speeding the boys to a trot, we ran as fast as we could to the baggage-room of the custom-house, where the official in charge caused us only a short delay. As the packages were being loaded into three cabs a man stepped forward and accosted me: "We have got you now! I am a reporter for _The Star_, and would like to know who the man is that keeps the Imperial Limited waiting!" The moment did not seem favourable for an interview, but I invited him to enter my cab and the two or three minutes required to drive to the station afforded opportunity for an explanation: I was on my way to New Guinea. This was a Norwegian undertaking which had the support of three geographical societies. It was hoped that a geologist and a botanist from Norway would meet me next year in Batavia to take part in this expedition to one of the least-known regions on the globe. "What do you expect to find?" he asked just as we halted. The porters outside said the train was gone, having waited fifteen minutes. The newspaper man immediately joined forces with my Canadian friend, and they were equally determined that by some means I should overtake that train. First we went to look for the station-master, hoping through him to obtain permission to have the train stopped en route. When found after a few minutes' search, he tried in vain to get one of the officials of the Canadian Pacific Company on the telephone. My two friends stood near to keep his interest active, but he did not seem to succeed. The station was quiet and looked abandoned. It was after ten o'clock and at that time of the evening the hope of reaching an official at his residence seemed forlorn. Meantime I had my luggage ready to throw aboard the 10.30 express, which was my one chance in case the Imperial Limited could be halted. The three men were persistent but finally, two or three minutes before the departure of the express, they came to me hurriedly and said: "You had better go by this train to North Bay, where you will arrive at 9.30 to-morrow morning. There you will catch the train, or if not you can return here." There appeared to me small prospect that the three men would succeed in obtaining the desired permission, but I had no time for reflection. The train was ready to start and my luggage was hastily thrown to the platform of the car. I bade the gentlemen a hurried good-bye, thanking them for all the trouble they had taken. "You are going to catch that train!" the reporter exclaimed in a firm and encouraging tone. "But what do you expect to find in New Guinea?" he suddenly inquired as I jumped on to the slowly moving train. Reflecting that in the worst case I would be back in Montreal in one and a half days, I fell asleep. At 6.30 in the morning I was awakened by the voice of the porter saying, "the train is waiting for you, sir," as he rolled up the curtain. It really was the Imperial Express! The big red cars stood there quietly in the sunshine of the early morning. In a few minutes I was dressed, and never with greater satisfaction have I paid a porter his fee. The station was Chalk River, and the train had waited forty minutes. What a comfortable feeling to know that all my belongings were safely on board! I had not only saved time and money but an interesting trip across the continent lay before me. Having washed and put on clean garments, I had my breakfast while passing through an enchanting hilly country, amid smiling white birches, and the maples in the autumn glory of their foliage, with more intensely red colouring than can be seen outside North America. The oatmeal porridge seemed unusually well prepared: the waiter intimated that the cook was a Parisian. However that might have been, he was probably of French descent. Four days later we arrived at Vancouver, where I wrote to the three gentlemen of Montreal, my appreciation of services rendered, addressing them care of _The Star_. Their names I did not know, but it was not the first time that I had been reminded of Darwin's assurance, in the account of his travels round the world, as to "how many truly kind-hearted people there are, with whom he (the traveller) never before had, nor ever again will have any further communication, who yet are ready to offer him the most disinterested assistance." Early in the morning on October 19 we saw the first Japanese fishing-boats. The sea was green and in the atmosphere a kind of haze, which almost seems peculiar to Japan, imparted an artistic tone to everything. In splendid weather, almost calm, we sailed along the coast of Nippon. As we entered the bay of Yokohama the sun was setting over a landscape that realised one's preconceived ideas of the beauty of the country. On one side, low ridges with rows of picturesque pine-trees just as you know them from Japanese prints, while in the background to the west, above the clouds rose the top of Fuji, nearly 4,000 metres above sea-level. We steamed up in absolute calm, while the long twilight was still further prolonged by a brilliant afterglow. Taking advantage of the permit to leave the steamer and rejoin it in Kobe, and having received useful advice from Cook's representative who came on board, I immediately went ashore. On calling a rickshaw I was much surprised to find that the man spoke English quite well. He trotted continuously twenty minutes, to the railway station, where in good time I caught the train for the West, and at daybreak I was ready to observe the beautiful country through which we passed. I had made no provision for breakfast, but one of my fellow travellers, who came from Tokio, had the courtesy to offer me two snipe with bacon, which tasted uncommonly well. In the morning I arrived at Kioto, the city of many temples, and found the Kioto hotel satisfactory. I shall not attempt to describe in detail the fascination of the two days I spent here, where one still may see something of old Japan. In Kobe, Nagasaki, and other cities exposed to the stream of travellers, Western influence is evident everywhere, and the inhabitants are less attractive on that account. After all one has heard and read about the charm of the country, one is inclined to think that the reports are exaggerated, but as far as my brief experience in Nippon goes, it is the most beautiful and interesting country that I have visited, and I hope in the future to know it better. The deepest impression made upon me by the Japanese was that they are all so active, healthy, and strong; always good-tempered, their manners are exquisite, even the plain people bowing to each other, and many young people saluted me on the street. The infinite variety in their shops is noticeable. To see the coaling of the steamers in Japanese harbours, which is done by baskets handed from one to another, makes an impression on the traveller. Hundreds of women and men take part in the occupation, and they come neatly dressed to this dirty work, women with clean white kerchiefs on their heads. The low ditches in their rice-fields are like engineering work, and their bundles of wood are nicely tied. Of the many temples I visited in Kioto the first was Chion-in, which lies impressively on an elevation at the foot of a charming wooded hill. The tiny lake at the back of the quaint structure, the peaceful atmosphere, the sunshine, and singing birds--the _tout ensemble_ was inexpressibly beautiful. On my way back to the hotel I passed a Christian church and felt ashamed of the wretched architecture, in the usual conventional style, made of stone with white-plastered walls, hard and unattractive. Never have I been among a people so close to nature, strikingly intelligent, friendly, and the most aesthetic of all nations on the globe. In continuing the journey opportunity is afforded to see Shanghai, Hong-Kong, and at last Singapore, the important port of the Malay Peninsula. Singapore, with its green lawns and trees, has a pleasant, though humid climate, cooler than that of Batavia, and quite comfortable although so near the equator. It is satisfying to know one place where the native races have a good time in competition with the whites, not only the Chinese, who have reached power and influence here, but also the Malays, natives of India, Arabs, etc. The Chinese rickshaw men here are of superb physique, and the excellence of the service renders this the most agreeable method of getting about. Moreover, it is a pleasure to watch their athletic movements and long easy stride, as if they were half flying. Some of them pass the carriages. They are jolly, like big children, and are natural teetotalers, but they sometimes fight about money among themselves. After securing a Chinese photographer and a trained native collector of zoological specimens, I embarked in the excellent Dutch steamer _Rumphius_ for Batavia where I arrived on the 10th of November. The first thing to be done was to ask an audience of the Governor-General of Netherlands India, who usually stays at Buitenzorg, the site of the world-famous botanical gardens. It is an hour's trip by express from Batavia, and although only 265 metres higher, has a much pleasanter climate. The palace, which is within the botanical gardens, has an unusually attractive situation, and the interior is light, cool, and stately. His excellency, A.W.F. Idenburg, most courteously gave the necessary orders for the furtherance of my proposed expedition to New Guinea, and as it was necessary for me to go first to Dutch Borneo, to secure a Dayak crew, he provided me with an introduction to the Resident of the South and Eastern Division. During the few days I stayed in Buitenzorg, the botanical gardens were a source of ever new delight. It was in the latter half of November and thus well into the rainy season. Usually showers came every afternoon, but the mornings, even up to eleven o'clock, always appeared like spring-time, only in a more magnificent edition than that of temperate zones. In the effulgence of light and the fresh coolness of the first hours of the day, plant and animal life seemed jubilant. After the calm and heat of midday, violent thunder-storms of short duration may occur, but the evenings are generally beautiful, although the prevailing inclination is to retire early. In the tropics one realises more readily than elsewhere how a single day contains all the verities and realities of one's whole life: spring, summer, and autumn every day, as in a year or in a lifetime. Australians and Americans who visit Java every year make a great mistake in selecting the dry season, April to July, for their travels. To be sure, one is not then troubled by rain, but on the other hand the heat is greater, the country becomes dry, and including the botanical gardens, loses much of its attraction. I decided to go by rail to Soerabaia, the point of steamboat connection with Borneo; this would give me opportunity to see Java besides saving some time. After twelve hours' travel by express the train stops for the night at Djokjakarta where there is a good hotel. We now find ourselves in a region which formerly was the main seat of Buddhism in Java. The world-famous monument, Boro Budur, is in the neighbourhood to the north in the district of Kedu, and by motor-car a visit may easily be made in one day, but for those who can spend more time on this interesting excursion there is satisfactory accommodation in a small hotel near by. The government has of late years successfully restored this magnificent ancient structure which at its base forms a square, with the length of the side 150 metres, and rises to a height of more than 30 metres. At first sight it does not seem as large as expected, but on entering the first gallery one is struck by the monumental magnitude and unique beauty of the edifice. Built upon a small hill from blocks of trachyte, it consists of twelve terraces rising one above another, and connected by staircases. The uppermost terrace, fifteen metres in diameter, has a dome. Each gallery is surrounded by a wall adorned with niches in handsome settings, each containing a life-sized Buddha, with legs crossed, soles turned downward. There are 432 such niches, and from this great number of statues of the famous religious founder the place probably derived its name, Boro Budur equals Bara Buddha (Buddhas without number). There are no less than 1,600 has reliefs, handsome carvings in hard stone mostly representing scenes from the life of Buddha and "which must," says Wallace, "occupy an extent of nearly three miles in length. The amount of human labour and skill expended on the Great Pyramids of Egypt sink into insignificance when compared with that required to complete this sculptured hill-temple in the interior of Java." It dates from the eighth or ninth century after Christ, and in reality is not a temple, but a so-called dagoba, dedicated to the keeping of some Buddhist sacred relic which was deposited in the dome, its principal part. In the beautiful light of afternoon the walk through the galleries was especially impressive. From that vantage point there is presented a fine, extensive view of a peaceful landscape, and at the time of my visit an actively smoking volcano in the far distance added a picturesque feature. In the vicinity is another noble Hindu structure, the so-called temple of Mendut, inside of which is found a large and singular Buddha sitting on a chair, legs hanging down. The figure is nude and the expression on its features is very mild. The journey from Djokjakarta to Soerabaia consumes about half a day and the trip is pleasanter than that of the previous day, when the rolling of the fast express on a narrow-gauge track was rather trying, while at dinner-time the soup and water were thrown about in an annoying manner. I have no doubt that this defect will soon be remedied, for Java is still what a very distinguished English visitor said sixty years ago: "the very garden of the East and perhaps upon the whole the richest, best cultivated, and best governed tropical island in the world." Soerabaia is the great shipping port for sugar, tobacco, etc., and a more important commercial centre than Batavia. The day after my arrival I started for Borneo where I intended to proceed to the Kayan or Bulungan River in the Northeast. It was my purpose to take advantage of the occasion to acquaint myself with that district and its natives which would extend my travels by a few months. CHAPTER II BORNEO--CLIMATIC AND BIOLOGICAL CONDITIONS--NATURAL RESOURCES--POPULATION-- HISTORY--GOVERNMENT OF THE NATIVES--RACIAL PROBLEMS Leaving Greenland out of consideration, Borneo is the second largest island on the globe, the greater part of it, southern and eastern, belonging to Holland. In a recent geological period this island as well as Java and Sumatra formed part of Asia. A glance at the map shows that Borneo is drained by rivers which originate in the central region near each other, the greater by far being in Dutch territory, some of them navigable to large steam launches for 500 or 600 kilometres. The principal chain of mountains runs, roughly speaking, from northeast to southwest, the average height being perhaps 1,000-1,500 metres, with higher peaks now and then. There are also ranges from east and west. The remainder is irregular hilly country, with low swampy coasts. The highest mountain is Kinabalu, in the north, about 4,500 metres above the sea and composed of "porphyritic granite and igneous rocks." There are no active volcanoes. The whole island is covered with forest vegetation from the coasts to the tops of the hills and ranges. The climate is humid and warm and remarkably even, the thermometer in the inland rarely reaching above 85° F. in the shade. Rain is copious most of the year; at night it sometimes rains continuously; but a day of uninterrupted downpour did not occur during my two years of travel. It comes in showers, usually lasting an hour or two, when it clears as suddenly as it began, and within half an hour all is dry again. In the interior, on account of the vast jungles, except in case of thunderstorms, which are rare, there is no wind, but on the coasts one may encounter storms in the time of both the northeast and the southwest monsoons. Though Borneo and the central mountains of New Guinea have the greatest rainfall in the Malay Archipelago, there is a distinct dry season, which is mostly felt during April, May, and June, but is less noticeable in the central parts. As regards the distribution of rain and dry weather, some difference was experienced as between the two years, and a planter of several years' experience in the south told me that one year is not like another. In spite of the general supposition to the contrary the climate of Borneo is quite pleasant, and probably less unhealthful than most equatorial regions, particularly in the central part where malaria is rare and prickly heat does not occur. Borneo has very many useful trees, notably hard woods. Rubber is still a source of income to the Malays and Dayaks, and the rattan and bamboo, on which the very existence of the natives depends, grow everywhere. The sago-palm and a great number of valuable wild fruits are found, such as the famous durian, mangosteen, lansat, rambutan, and others. The climate seems to be specially suited to fruit, the pineapple and pomelo reaching their highest perfection here. The coconut-palm thrives on the island. Borneo is famous for its orchids and most of the species of pitcher-plants (_nepenthes_) are found here, the largest of which will hold two "quarts" of water. The elephant, rhinoceros, tapir, wild cattle, and many other kinds of smaller animals of Asia are found in Borneo. No Indian tigers are in the country, though many varieties of the cat family are there, among them the beautiful large _felis nebulosa_. Wild pigs of many species roam the jungle in abundance. Several kinds of mammals are peculiar to the island, among which may be mentioned the long-nosed monkey (_nasalis larvatus_). There are over 550 species of birds, but the individuals of the species are not numerous; the pheasant family is especially gorgeous in form and colour. The rivers and the surrounding sea swarm with fish of many kinds, furnishing an abundance of food, although generally not very palatable. The djelavat, in flavour not unlike salmon, and the salap, both of which I met in the upper courses of the rivers Samba, Barito, and Mahakam, are notable exceptions. The mineral resources of Borneo are very considerable; coal, gold, iron, diamonds, tin, and antimony are among the most valuable. Anthracite coal is not found in the country, that which is in evidence being from the tertiary period. Gold is everywhere, but thus far is not found in sufficient quantity to pay. Formerly the natives of the upper Kotawaringin district had to pay the Sultan gold as a tax. A mining engineer told me that in Martapura, the principal diamond-field, one may find gold, platinum, and diamonds while washing one pan. The total population of the island is probably 3,000,000. As regards the South and Eastern Division of Dutch Borneo--roughly half of the island--to which my travels were confined, the census returns of 1914 give in round figures a total of 906,000 people, of whom 800 are Europeans (470 men and 330 women), 86,000 Chinese, 817,000 Dayaks and Malays, and 2,650 Arabs and other aliens. Of these peoples no less than 600,000 live in a comparatively small area of the southeast, the districts of Oeloe Soengei and Bandjermasin. These are nearly all Malays, only 4,000 or 5,000 being Dayaks, who probably do not form the majority of the 217,000 that make up the remainder of the native population of the Division. On account of the small white population and insufficient means of communication, which is nearly all by river, the natural resources of Dutch Borneo are still in the infancy of development. The petroleum industry has reached important proportions, but development of the mineral wealth has hardly begun. In 1917 a government commission, having the location of iron and gold especially in view, was sent to explore the mineral possibilities of the Schwaner Mountains. In the alluvial country along the rivers are vast future possibilities for rational agriculture, by clearing the jungle where at present the Malays and Dayaks pursue their primitive operations of planting rice in holes made with a pointed stick. The early history of Borneo is obscure. Nothing in that regard can be learned from its present barbarous natives who have no written records, and few of whom have any conception of the island as a geographical unit. Although the Chinese had early knowledge of, and dealings with, Borneo, there seems little doubt that the country was first colonised by Hindu Javanese from Modjopahit, the most important of the several kingdoms which Hindus began to found in the early centuries after Christ. Modjopahit enclosed the region round the present Soerabaia in East Java, and it was easy to reach Borneo from there, to-day distant only twenty-seven hours by steamer. These first settlers in Borneo professed Hinduism and to some extent Buddhism. They founded several small kingdoms, among them Bandjermasin, Pasir, and Kutei, also Brunei on the north coast. But another race came, the Malays, who with their roving disposition extended their influence in the coast countries and began to form states. Then Islamism appeared in the Orient and changed conditions. Arabs, sword in hand, converted Java, and as far as they could, destroyed temples, monuments, and statues. The Malays, too, became Mohammedans and the sway of Islam spread more or less over the whole Malay Archipelago. With the fall of Modjopahit in 1478 the last vestige of Hindu Javanese influence in Borneo disappeared. The Malays established sultanates with the same kind of government that is habitual with Mohammedans, based on oppression of the natives by the levying of tribute with the complement of strife, intrigue, and non-progress. In the course of time the Malays have not only absorbed the Hindu Javanese, but also largely the Bugis, who had founded a state on the west coast, and in our time they are gradually pushing back the Dayaks and slowly but surely absorbing them. The Chinese have also played a prominent part in the colonisation of Borneo, having early developed gold and diamond mines and established trade, and though at times they have been unruly, they are today an element much appreciated by the Dutch in the development of the country. As regards the time when European influence appeared in Borneo, the small sultanate of Brunei in the north was the first to come in contact with Europeans. Pigafetta, with the survivors of Magellan's expedition, arrived here from the Moluccas in 1521, and was the first to give an account of it to the Western world. He calls it "Bornei," which later, with a slight change, became the name of the whole island. The ever-present Portuguese early established trade relations with the sultanate. Since the Napoleonic wars, when the East Indian colonies were returned to Holland, the Dutch have gradually extended their rule in Borneo to include two-thirds of the island. In the remainder the British have consolidated their interests, and in 1906, the European occupation of Borneo was completed. The distribution of territory has roughly been placed thus: Dutch Borneo, seventy per cent; Sarawak and Brunei, twenty per cent; British North Borneo, ten per cent. To the world at large Borneo is probably best known through the romance surrounding the name of James Brooke, who became Raja of Sarawak, in 1841. His story has often been told, but a brief account may not be out of place. He had been to the Far East and its fascination, together with an impulse to benefit the natives, drew him back again. After resigning his commission in the army of the British East India Company, he built his own yacht of 140 tons, practised his crew in the Mediterranean and then set sail for the Malay Archipelago. In his _Proposed Exploring Expedition to the Asiatic Archipelago_, 1838, are found these stirring words which strike a responsive chord in the heart of every true explorer: "Imagination whispers to ambition that there are yet lands unknown which might be discovered. Tell me, would not a man's life be well spent--tell me, would it not be well sacrificed in an endeavour to explore these regions? When I think of dangers and death I think of them only because they would remove me from such a field for ambition, for energy, and for knowledge." [*] [Footnote *: _The Expedition to Borneo of H.M.S. "Dido" for the Suppression of Piracy_, by Captain H. Keppel, p. 374. Harper's, New York, 1846.] Mr. Brooke arrived at Sarawak where he remained some time, surveying the coast and studying the people. In those days Malay pirates rendered the country dangerous to approach and several ships had been lost and their crews murdered. One of the chronic rebellions against the Sultan of Brunei was raging at the time, and Mr. Brooke was asked to suppress it, was made Raja, and defeated the rebels, cleared the river of pirates and established order. Though Mohammedan laws were maintained in Sarawak, the worst abuses were purged out, as for instance, the death penalty for conjugal infidelity, and the sufficiency of a fine in extenuation of a murder. As for the Dayaks who formerly were cheated by Malay traders and robbed by Malay chiefs, they were permitted to enjoy absolute safety. Both Raja Brooke and his nephew, who succeeded him in the same spirit, followed the policy of making use of the natives themselves in governing, and Sarawak to-day enjoys the distinction of being a country where the interests of the natives are guarded with greater care than those of "the minority of superior race." Resting on the good-will of the natives and their uplift, the government of the two white Rajas has been remarkably successful. The Dutch, with their much larger possessions, in a similar way have invoked the co-operation of the native chiefs. Their government is also largely paternal, which is the form best suited to the circumstances. The Malay Sultans maintain power under Dutch control and receive their income from the government, which has abolished many abuses. As for the pagan tribes, they are treated with admirable justice. Well administered by Europeans as Borneo undoubtedly is, the question may well arise as to whether the natives are not becoming sufficiently civilised to render purposeless expeditions to study them. To this may be answered that in a country so vast, where white men are comparatively few in number, the aborigines in the more remote part are still very little affected by outside influence. The geographical features are an important factor here. In the immense extent of forest vegetation which covers the land from the sea to the tops of the mountains, the rivers are the only highways, and in their upper courses, on account of rapids and waterfalls, travel is difficult and often dangerous. Although in the last quarter of a century much has been accomplished by ethnology, still for years to come Borneo, especially the Dutch part of it, will remain a prolific field for research. The tribes are difficult to classify, and in Dutch Borneo undoubtedly additional groups are to be found. The Muruts in the north, who use irrigation in their rice culture and show physical differences from the others, are still little known. Many tribes in Dutch Borneo have never been studied. So recently as 1913 Mr. Harry C. Raven, an American zoological collector, in crossing the peninsula that springs forth on the east coast about 1° N.L., came across natives, of the Basap tribe, who had not before been in contact with whites. The problem of the Indonesians is far from solved, nor is it known who the original inhabitants of Borneo were, Negritos or others, and what role, if any, the ancestors of the Polynesians played remains to be discovered. The generally accepted idea has been that the Malays inhabit the coasts and the Dayaks the interior. This is not strictly correct because the racial problems of the island are much more complicated. Doctor A.C. Haddon recognises five principal groups of people in Sarawak, Punan, Kenyah-Kayan, Iban or Sea Dayak, Malay, and the remaining tribes he comprehends under the noncommittal name Klemantan. He distinguishes two main races, a dolichocephalic and a brachycephalic, terming the former Indonesian, the latter Proto-Malay. Doctor A.W. Nieuwenhuis, who about the end of the last century made important researches in the upper parts of the Kapuas and Mahakam Rivers and at Apo Kayan, found the Ot-Danum, Bahau-Kenyah, and Punan to be three distinct groups of that region. Doctor Kohlbrugge and Doctor Haddon consider the Ot-Danums as Indonesians, to whom the former also consigns the Kayans and the Punans. [*] Doctors Hose and McDougall, who in their _Pagan Tribes of Borneo_ have contributed much to the ethnology of the island, have convincingly shown that the Ibans (Sea Dayaks) are recent immigrants, probably of only two hundred years ago, from Sumatra, and are Proto-Malays. They hold the view that the Kayans have imparted to the Kenyahs and other tribes the "principal elements of the peculiar culture which they now have in common." [Footnote *: Quoted from _Pagan Tribes in Borneo,_ II, p. 316] The Malays undoubtedly were the first to employ the word Dayak as a designation for the native tribes except the nomadic, and in this they have been followed by both the Dutch and the British. The word, which makes its appearance in the latter part of the eighteenth century, is derived from a Sarawak word, dayah, man, and is therefore, as Ling Roth says, a generic term for man. The tribes do not call themselves Dayaks, and to use the designation as an anthropological descriptive is an inadmissible generalisation. Nevertheless, in the general conception the word has come to mean all the natives of Borneo except the Malays and the nomadic peoples, in the same way as American Indian stands for the multitude of tribes distributed over a continent. In this sense, for the sake of convenience, I shall myself use the word, but to apply it indiscriminately to anthropological matters is as unsatisfactory as if one should describe a certain tribe in the new world merely as American Indian. CHAPTER III BANDJERMASIN, THE PRINCIPAL TOWN IN DUTCH BORNEO--NORTHWARD ALONG THE EAST COAST--BALIK PAPAN, AN OIL PRODUCING CENTRE--SAMARINDA--TANDJONG SELOR--THE SULTAN-UP THE KAYAN RIVER Fifty miles from land the sea assumes a different aspect through the fresh water of the great Barito flowing on the surface. Its red hue is produced by particles of soil brought from the inland of Borneo. In the beginning of December I arrived at Bandjermasin, the principal town in Dutch Borneo, inhabited for the most part by Malays and Chinese. It is the seat of the Resident of the vast South and Eastern Division and has a garrison. The sea loudly announces its presence here, the tide overflowing much of the low ground, hence the Malay name, _bandjir_ = overflow, _másin_ = salt water. Large clumps of a peculiar water-plant float on the river in Bandjermasin in great numbers, passing downward with the current, upward with the tide, producing a singular, but pleasing sight. It is originally a native of America and has attractive light-blue flowers, but multiplies to such an extent that the growth finally may interfere with traffic. In India I saw a lagoon completely choked with it. There is one hotel where the table is fair and the beds are clean, but blankets are considered unnecessary, and only sheets are provided. The climate was not as hot as I expected, nights and mornings being surprisingly cool. Early in July of the following year the morning temperature was about 73° F. (23° C). Malaria is rare here, but there are frequent indications of beri-beri. Friends invited me to go on an excursion to a small island, Kambang, where there are a number of monkeys to whom Malays who desire children sacrifice food. On our arrival the animals came to meet us in a way that was almost uncanny, running like big rats in the tall grass on the muddy beach. Many remnants of sacrificial offerings were strewn about. Two years later I was again in Bandjermasin, when an elderly American and his wife appeared upon the scene-tourists, by the way, being very unusual here. At the breakfast table they asked a young Dutchman the whereabouts of the church and museum, and he replied that he did not think there was either in the town. As a matter of fact there is a small wooden Dutch church hidden away in a back street. Moreover, in 1914 the Resident, who at that time was Mr. L.F.J. Rijckmans, had a house built, in Malay style of architecture, for the safekeeping of Bornean industrial and ethnological objects which had been on view at the exhibition at Samarang in Java, thus forming the nucleus of a museum which at some future time may be successfully developed. The Kahayan Dayaks, not far away to the north, make exquisite cigar-cases from rattan, while the Bugis weave attractive cotton goods, resembling silk, with an original and pleasing colour combination. The Europeans have a lawn-tennis court where they usually play every afternoon. In Bandjermasin is the headquarters of a German missionary society whose activities are confined mainly to the Kahayan River. They are Protestants and worked for a great number of years without making any noteworthy impression on the natives, but of late years they have been more successful. Catholics, who came later, have a station on the Mahakam River. The government wisely has separated Protestant and Catholic missionary activities, restricting the former to the southern part of the country, the latter to the northern. There is no difficulty about getting up along the east coast northward as far as the Bulungan, which was my immediate aim. The Royal Dutch Packet Boat Company adheres to a schedule of regular fortnightly steamship connection. On the way a stop is made at Balik Papan, the great oil-producing centre, with its numerous and well-appointed tanks and modern equipment, reminding one of a thriving town in America. One of the doctors in this prosperous place told me that his two children of four and six years enjoyed excellent health. Dysentery was prevalent among the coolies, and occasionally cases of malaria occurred, but malaria is found even in Holland, he added. As we sailed up the Kutei River in the early morning, approaching Samarinda, an attractive scene presented itself. Absolute calm and peace reigned, a slight morning mist rising here and there before us and giving a touch of charm to the vista of modest white houses that stretched along the beach in their tropical surroundings. Samarinda lies almost on the equator, but nights and mornings are always cool, even to a greater degree than in Bandjermasin. Northeast Borneo and North Celebes have a comparatively cool climate, but from Samarinda southward it is warmer. I called on the assistant Resident, in whose office a beautiful blue water-rail, with a red head, walked unconcernedly about. He advised me that this was the worst time for travelling, when the northwest monsoons, which are accompanied by much rain, are blowing. The peace and contentment among the natives here, mostly Malays, impresses one favourably. They are all very fond of their children and take good care of them. The crying of children is a sound that is rarely heard. It was my fortune to travel over two years in the Dutch Indies; it is gratifying to state that during that time I never saw a native drunk, cit her in Java or Borneo. My visits did not extend to the Muruts in the north of Borneo, who are known to indulge excessively in native rice brandy. Nor was I present at any harvest feast, but according to reliable report, "strong drink is seldom or never abused" by the tribes of Borneo. The Muruts and the Ibans are the exceptions. Two days later, among mighty forests of nipa-palms, we sailed up the Kayan or Bulungan River and arrived at Tandjong Selor, a small town populated by Malays and Chinese, the number of Europeans being usually limited to two, the controleur and the custom-house manager. It lies in a flat swampy country and on the opposite side of the river, which here is 600 metres wide, lives the Sultan of Bulungan. I secured a large room in a house which had just been rented by two Japanese who were representatives of a lumber company, and had come to arrange for the export of hardwood from this part of Borneo. Accompanied by the controleur, Mr. R. Schreuder, I went to call on the Sultan. He was a man of about thirty-five years, rather prepossessing in appearance, and proud of his ancestry, although time has so effaced his Dayak characteristics that he looks like a Malay. Dato Mansur, his executive, met us at the landing and escorted us into the presence of the Sultan and his wife, where we were offered soda-water and whiskey, and we remained an hour. They are both likeable, but the Sultan appears rather nervous and frail, and it is rumoured that his health has suffered as a result of overindulgence in spiritualistic seances. He gave an entertaining account of natives living in the trees on the Malinau River. As it had been impossible for me to obtain cartridges for my Winchester rifle, the Sultan was kind enough to lend me one of his before we parted, as well as two hundred cartridges. He also obligingly sent Dato Mansur up the river to Kaburau, the principal Kayan kampong (village) to secure men and boats for an intended expedition inland from there. The main business of Tandjong Selor, as everywhere in Borneo, is buying rattan, rubber, and damar (a kind of resin) from the Malays and the Dayaks, and shipping it by steamer to Singapore. As usual, trade is almost entirely in the hands of the Chinese. The great event of the place is the arrival of the steamer twice a month. When the whistle is heard from down the river a great yell arises from all over the town. The steamer is coming! People by the hundreds run down to the wharf amid great excitement and joy. Many Malays do not work except on these occasions, when they are engaged in loading and unloading. The principal Chinese merchant there, Hong Seng, began his career as a coolie on the wharf. He has a fairly well-stocked store with some European and American preserved articles, and was reliable in his dealings, as the Chinese always are. He was rich enough to have of late taken to himself a young wife, besides keeping his first one. His two young sons who assisted him had been at school in Singapore, and were proud to air their knowledge of English. The house where I lived was on the main street, on the river bank, and in the evening the little shops on either side started playing nasty, cheap European phonographs the noise of which was most disagreeable. Most of the records were of Chinese music, the harsh quality of which was magnified tenfold by the imperfections of the instruments. When the nerve-wracking concert became intolerable, they were always good enough to stop it at my request. However, there was one feature about this remote place which was repugnant--the prevalent flogging of children with rattan, mostly among the Mohammedan Malays. Not a day passed without wails and violent cries arising in some part of the town, especially during the forenoon, although I did not perceive that the children here were more incorrigible than elsewhere. The Dayaks never beat their children, and later I did not observe similar cruelty among Malays. Wise though King Solomon was, his precept not to spare the rod should be regarded in the light of his large family, "700 wives, princesses, and 300 concubines." Even in the training of animals, better results are obtained by omitting the lash. In the beginning of January, 1914, I was able to start for Kaburau. The controleur courteously provided for my use the government's steamship _Sophia_, which in six hours approached within easy distance of the kampong. My party consisted of Ah Sewey, a young Chinese photographer from Singapore whom I had engaged for developing plates and films, also Chonggat, a Sarawak Dayak who had had his training at the museum of Kuala Lampur in the Malay Peninsula. Finally, Go Hong Cheng, a Chinese trader, acted as interpreter and mandur (overseer). He spoke several Dayak dialects, but not Dutch, still less English, for Malay is the lingua franca of the Dutch Indies as well as of the Malay Peninsula. As we anchored for the night I heard for the first time, from the hills that rose near by, the loud defiant cry of the argus pheasant. How wildly weird it sounds on a quiet evening! The next morning the Kayans met us with boats to take us up to their kampong, Kaburau. Some women were pounding paddi (rice) under the large communal house which, in accordance with the custom of the country, was raised from the ground on posts. Dogs were much in evidence, both on the ground below and on the gallery of the house above. The canine species kept by the Dayaks have erect ears, are rather small and their colour is usually dull yellow. Here they were variously coloured, some entirely black, and fights among them were of frequent occurrence. Ascending the ladder I found a large tame bird of the stork family chained to the gallery, for the Dayaks often keep birds and animals in their houses. The chief very hospitably had prepared one room for all four of us to lodge in, which did not exactly suit me, as I like to have a place where at times I may be _chez moi_, for the night at least. There was no suitable place outside for my tent, so I decided to paddle a few hundred kilometres up the river to a dilapidated camping-house for travellers, put up by the Dayaks under government order. Such a house is called pasang-grahan and may be found in many out-of-the-way places in Borneo. Though generally crude and unpretentious huts where travelling soldiers or Malays put up, these shelters are very useful, especially for the night. There is another kind of pasang-grahan, comfortable structures provided with beds, similar to the rest-houses in India. In the more civilised parts these are built for the use of officials and other travellers. The one referred to had roof and walls of palm leaves, and as a matter of course, stood on piles. Though said to be only three years old it was already very shaky; still after clearing away the grass and some of the jungle next to it, we established quite a comfortable camp. Chonggat brought in a number of birds and animals here, among them the lovely raja bird, snow-white except for the deep blue head, and with a very long graceful tail. It is also called paradise flycatcher (_terpsiphone_), and is found from Sumatra up into middle China. In Borneo it is quite common, being observed also on the Mahakam in the central part of the island. According to the legend, it formerly cost a man his life to kill it. This man soon showed himself to be an excellent worker who took his business very seriously and did not allow himself to be distracted when I amused visiting Kayans with simple moving pictures and by playing a music-box. The jungle, dripping with dew in the early morning, did not deter him, and at night it was his custom to shoot owls and hunt for deer or other animals. After arranging his tent with little or no help from the Dayaks, he would next put up a frame-work on which to dry his skins, under a roof of palm leaves; here a fire was always kept, without which the skins would have spoiled in that damp climate. Chonggat had a fine physique, was always pleasant and willing and was possessed of more than ordinary intelligence withal. Also keenly humourous, he enjoyed my initial mistakes in Malay, though maintaining a proper respect for the leader of the expedition. In the evening, having retired for the day, he, as well as the Chinese photographer could be heard in their respective tents studying English from small guidebooks which they had brought along. He told me that his earnings were invested in a small rubber plantation which he and his brothers worked together. Chonggat was a good example of what a native of Borneo can accomplish under proper civilizing influences. One morning he brought in a king cobra (_naia bungarus_) which he had shot, and as life was not yet extinct I got a good photograph of it. This serpent was about three metres long, but these very poisonous snakes, called ular tadong by the Malays, attain a length of seven metres. They are beautifully formed for quick movement, and will attack human beings, the female being particularly vicious when it has eggs. "When I see ular tadong coming toward me," said Chonggat, who was no coward, "then I run." There are several species of very poisonous snakes in Borneo, but according to my experience they are not very numerous. Two small ones, about thirty-five centimetres long, are the most common varieties encountered in the jungle. They are sluggish and somewhat similar in appearance, dark brown and red being the principal colours. One of them has its under side decorated with transverse sections of beautiful scarlet alternating with black. Ah Sewey, the photographer, was also an efficient man, but at first we had immense difficulty with the developing. One cannot count on water cooler than 75° F., and at that temperature the films come out well, but in the beginning many plates were spoiled. For the photographer in the tropics the use of formalin is an absolute necessity. He must also face other difficulties, avoiding among other things the possibility of having his films, when drying, eaten by small species of grasshoppers. CHAPTER IV AN EXPEDITION INTO THE JUNGLE--FIRST IMPRESSIONS--RAPID CHANGE IN THE DENSENESS OF VEGETATION--ANIMAL LIFE--A STUBBORN FIGHT About the middle of January, I began an expedition into the utan, as the Malays call the great jungles of Borneo, first going up the river half a day and from there striking inland toward the north. If circumstances proved favourable, I intended to travel as far as Bengara, about twelve days' trip for a Dayak with a light burden to carry. In case of unfavourable weather and too much delay in getting fresh provisions, I felt that I should be satisfied in penetrating well into a region not before visited by whites, where I might succeed in coming into contact with the shy nomads, called Punans, known to roam there in limited numbers. To this end I had taken along one of the Sultan's petty officials, a so-called raja, who exercised more or less control over the Punans. This man, evidently half Malay and half Dayak, and as nude as the rest, demanded to be waited upon by the other natives, who even had to put up his hair. He was lazy; he would not be a raja if he were not. If he were on the move one day, he would sleep most of the next. Among my twenty-two Kayans was an efficient and reliable man called Banglan, the sub-chief of Kaburau, who was alert and intelligent. He had only one hand, the result of a valorous fight with a crocodile, by which his prahu (native boat) had been attacked one day at dawn in a small tributary of the river. The animal actually upset the prahu and killed his two companions, in trying to save whom with no weapon but his bare hands, he lost one in the struggle. In their contact with the crocodiles the Dayaks show a fortitude almost beyond belief. A Dutch doctor once treated a man who had been dragged under water, but had the presence of mind to press a thumb into each eye of the reptile. He was badly mangled, but recovered. As long as we remained at a low altitude camping out was not an unalloyed pleasure, because the tormenting gnats were exasperating, and at night the humidity was great, making the bed and everything else damp. The atmosphere was heavy and filled with the odor of decaying vegetable matter never before disturbed. In the morning at five o'clock, my hour for rising, there was considerable chill in the air. It was difficult to see a star here and there through the tall trees and dense undergrowth that surrounded us as closely as the walls of a cave. The stagnant atmosphere and dark environment, which the sun's rays vainly attempted to penetrate, began to have a depressing effect on my spirits. After a couple of nights spent thus, a longing for sunshine came over me and I decided to stay one day, make a clearing, dry our belongings, and put up a shelter in which to leave some of our baggage; all of which could not be carried up the hills. I told the raja and Banglan that I wanted the sun to shine into the camp, and the men immediately set to work with cheerful alacrity. The Dayaks have no rivals in their ability to make a tree fall in the desired direction. First, by carefully sighting the trunk, they ascertain the most feasible way for the tree to fall, then they chop at the base with native axes, sometimes four men working, two and two in unison. In a remarkably brief time it begins to weaken, the top making slight forward movements which are followed by a final sharp report announcing the end of their labour. Quickly noting that they were masters in their craft, I permitted them to fell forest giants in close proximity to our tents, some of which landed but half a metre distant. Immense specimens in their fall brought down thickets of creepers and smaller growths which produced big openings, so we succeeded in making quite a sunny camp in the dark jungle. Since that experience I have made it an invariable rule in my travels to cut a small clearing before putting up my tent in the jungle. Sometimes the felling of one or two trees will ameliorate the situation immeasurably, admitting fresh air and sunlight, and there is little difficulty about it when one is accompanied by such able and willing men as the Dayaks. For their own use when travelling they make simple shelters as night approaches, because they dislike to get wet. The material is always close at hand. Slender straight poles are quickly cut and brought in to make frame-work for a shed, the floor of which is about half a metre above ground. The roof is made of big leaves, and in less than an hour they are comfortably at home in one or more sheds, grouped around fires on the flimsy floor. It is a curious fact that one can always manage to make a fire in these damp woods; a petroleum burner is not essential. The natives always know where to go to find something dry that will burn; as for the white man's cook, he usually improves upon the situation by soaking the wood in petroleum, which is one of the valuable articles of equipment. Often in the jungle, when slightly preparing the ground for erecting the tent, phosphorescent lights from decayed vegetable matter shone in innumerable spots, as if a powerful lamp were throwing its light through a grating. In ascending the hills it was surprising how soon the aspect of the vegetation changed. The camp we were just leaving was only about a metre above the Kayan River, so we probably were not more than twenty-odd metres above sea-level. Twenty metres more, and the jungle vegetation was thinner even at that short distance. Trees, some of them magnificent specimens of hard wood, began to assert themselves. Above 100 metres elevation it was not at all difficult to make one's way through the jungle, even if we had not had a slight Punan path to follow. It is easier than to ascend the coast range of northeast Queensland under 18° S.L., where the lawyer palms are very troublesome. Making a light clearing one evening we opened the view to a couple of tall trees called in Malay, palapak, raising their crowns high above the rest; this is one of the trees from which the natives make their boats. The trunk is very tall and much thicker near the ground. Reaching a height of 500 metres, the ground began to be slippery with yellow mud, but the jungle impeded one less than the thickets around Lenox, Massachusetts, in the United States. Toward the south of our camp here, the hill had an incline of 45 degrees or less, and one hardwood tree that we felled travelled downward for a distance of 150 metres. A pleasant soft breeze blew for about ten minutes, for the first time on our journey, and the afternoon was wonderfully cool. A Kayan messenger here arrived from the kampong, bringing a package which contained my mail, obligingly sent me by the controleur. The package made a profound impression on the Dayaks as well as on the Chinese interpreter, all of whom crowded around my tent to observe what would follow. I went elsewhere for a little while, but it was of no avail. They were waiting to see the contents, so I took my chair outside, opened and read my mail, closely watched all the time by a wondering crowd. None of our attendant natives had been in this part of the country before except a Punan, now adopted into the Kayan tribe, who knew it long ago and his memory at times seemed dimmed. Fresh tracks of rhinoceros and bear were seen and tapirs are known to exist among these beautiful wooded hills. Chonggat succeeded in shooting an exceedingly rare squirrel with a large bushy tail. We finally made camp on top of a hill 674 metres in height which we called kampong Gunong. The Dayaks helped me to construct a small shed with a fireplace inside where I could dry my wet clothing, towels, etc. Of their own initiative they also put up around the tent some peculiar Dayak ornamentations in the shape of long spirals of wood shavings hung on to the end of poles or trees which they planted in the ground. The same kind of decorations are used at the great festivals, and when a gentle wind set them in motion they had quite a cheerful, almost festive appearance. Every morning, almost punctually at five o'clock, the gibbons or long-armed, man-like apes, began their loud chatter in the tree-tops, more suggestive of the calls of birds than of animals. They are shy, but become very tame in confinement and show much affection. A wah-wah, as the animal is called in this part of the world, will throw his arms around the neck of his master, and is even more human in his behaviour than the orang-utan, from which he differs in temperament, being more vivacious and inclined to mischief. In a kampong I once saw a young gibbon repeatedly descend into a narrow inclosure to tease a large pig confined there. The latter, although three or four times as large, seemed entirely at his mercy and was submissive and frightened, even when his ears were pulled by the wah-wah. During my travels in the jungle of Borneo, few were the days in which I was not summoned to rise by the call of the wah-wah, well-nigh as reliable as an alarm clock. My stay here was protracted much longer than I expected on account of rain and fog, which rendered photographing difficult; one or the other prevailed almost continuously. Frequently sunlight seemed approaching, but before I could procure and arrange my camera it had vanished, and light splashes of rain sounded on my tent. This was trying, but one cannot expect every advantage in the tropics, which are so beautiful most of the year that I, for one, gladly put up with the discomforts of a wet season. Rain-storms came from the north and northeast; from our high point of view, one could see them approaching and hear the noise of the rain on the top of the jungle many minutes before they arrived. A few times, especially at night, we had storms that lasted for hours, reaching sometimes a velocity of eighty kilometres an hour. The trees of the jungle are naturally not exposed to the force of the wind, standing all together, so those surrounding our clearing seemed helpless, deprived of their usual support. Some smaller ones, apparently of soft wood, which had been left on the clearing, were broken, and the green leaves went flying about. On one occasion at dusk Banglan stood a long time watching for any suspicious-looking tree that might threaten to fall over the camp. Torrents of rain fell during the night and we could barely keep dry within our tents. The rain was more persistent here in the vicinity of the lower Kayan than in any other part of Borneo during my two years of travel through that country. White-tailed, wattled pheasants (_lobiophasis_), rare in the museums, were very numerous here. This beautiful bird has a snow-white tail and its head is adorned with four cobalt-blue appendages, two above and two underneath the head. The Dayaks caught this and other birds alive in snares, which they are expert in constructing. I kept one alive for many days, and it soon became tame. It was a handsome, brave bird, and I was sorry one day to find it dead from want of proper nourishment, the Dayaks having been unable to find sufficient rain-worms for it. The beautiful small deer, kidyang, was secured several times. Its meat is the best of all game in Borneo, although the Kayans look upon it with disfavour. When making new fields for rice-planting, if such an animal should appear, the ground is immediately abandoned. Scarcely fifty metres below the top of the hill was our water supply, consisting of a scanty amount of running water, which stopped now and then to form tiny pools, and to my astonishment the Dayaks one day brought from these some very small fish which I preserved in alcohol. Naturally the water swells much in time of rain, but still it seems odd that such small fish could reach so high a point. Many insects were about at night. Longicornes scratched underneath my bed, and moths hovered about my American hurricane lamp hanging outside the tent-door. Leeches also entered the tent and seemed to have a predilection for the tin cans in which my provisions and other things were stored. In the dim lamplight I could sometimes see the uncanny shadows of their bodies on the canvas, raised and stretched to an incredible height, moving their upper parts quickly to all sides before proceeding on their "forward march." To some people, myself included, their bite is poisonous, and on the lower part of the legs produces wounds that may take weeks to cure. One day native honey was brought in, which had been found in a hollow tree. It was sweet, but thin, and had no pronounced flavour. A few minutes after the honey had been left on a plate in my tent there arrived a number of large yellow hornets, quite harmless apparently, but persevering in their eagerness to feast upon the honey. During the foggy afternoon they gathered in increased numbers and were driven off with difficulty. The temporary removal of the plate failed to diminish their persistence until finally, at dusk, they disappeared, only to return again in the morning, bringing others much larger in size and more vicious in aspect, and the remaining sweet was consumed with incredible rapidity; in less than two hours a considerable quantity of the honey in the comb as well as liquid was finished by no great number of hornets. Later several species of ants found their way into my provision boxes. A large one, dark-gray, almost black, in colour, more than a centimetre long, was very fond of sweet things. According to the Malays, if irritated it is able to sting painfully, but in spite of its formidable appearance it is timid and easily turned away, so for a long time I put up with its activities, though gradually these ants got to be a nuisance by walking into my cup, which they sometimes filled, or into my drinking-water. Another species, much smaller, which also was fond of sugar, pretended to be dead when discovered. One day at ten o'clock in the morning, I observed two of the big ants, which I had come to look upon as peaceful, in violent combat outside my tent. A large number of very tiny ones were busily attaching themselves to legs and antennae of both fighters, who did not, however, greatly mind the small fellows, which were repeatedly shaken off as the pair moved along in deadly grip. One of the combatants clasped his nippers firmly around one leg of the other, which for several hours struggled in vain to get free. A small ant was hanging on to one of the victor's antennae, but disappeared after a couple of hours. Under a magnifying-glass I could see that each fighter had lost a leg. I placed the end of a stick against the legs of the one that was kept in this merciless vice, and he immediately attached himself to it. As I lifted the stick up he held on by one leg, supporting in this way both his own weight and that of his antagonist. Finally, they ceased to move about, but did not separate in spite of two heavy showers in the afternoon, and at four o'clock they were still maintaining their relative positions; but next morning they and the other ants had disappeared. CHAPTER V MEETING PUNANS, THE SHY JUNGLE PEOPLE--DOWN THE RIVER AGAIN--MY ENTHUSIASTIC BOATMEN-MALAYS VERSUS DAYAKS At my request the raja, with a few companions, went out in search of some of the shy jungle people called Punans. Seven days afterward he actually returned with twelve men, who were followed by seven more the next day. All the women had been left one day's journey from here. These Punans had been encountered at some distance from kampong Bruen, higher up the river, and, according to reports, made up the entire nomadic population of the lower Kayan River. Most of them were rather tall, well-made men, but, as a result of spending all their lives in the darkness of the jungle, [*] their skin colour, a pale yellowish brown, was strikingly lighter, especially the face, than that of the Kayans. [Footnote *: In von Luschan's table, Punan 15, Kayan 22.] They actually seemed to hate the sun, and next day when it broke through the mist for a little while they all sought shelter in the shade of trees. As a result of their avoidance of direct rays from the sun they have a washed-out, almost sickly pale appearance, contrasting strangely with the warm tone of light brown which at times may be observed among the Dayaks. This is probably the reason why they are not very strong, though apparently muscular, and are not able to carry heavy burdens. They began at once to put up a shed similar to those of the Dayaks, but usually their shelters for the night are of the rudest fashion, and as they have only the scantiest of clothing they then cover themselves with mats made from the leaves of the fan-palm. On the Upper Mahakam I later made acquaintance with some of the Punans who roam the mountainous regions surrounding the headwaters of that river. Those are known under the name Punan Kohi, from a river of that name in the mountains toward Sarawak. The members of the same tribe further east in the mountains of the Bulungan district are called Punan Lun, from the River Lun, to whom the present individuals probably belonged. According to the raja, there are two kinds of Punans here, and his statement seems to be borne out by the variations in their physical appearance. These nineteen nomads had black hair, straight in some cases, wavy in others. Most of them had a semblance of mustache and some hair on the chin. Their bodies looked perfectly smooth, as they remove what little hair there may be. Some of them had high-arched noses. The thigh was large, but the calf of the leg usually was not well-developed, though a few had very fine ones; and they walked with feet turned outward, as all the Dayaks and Malays I have met invariably do. The only garment worn was a girdle of plaited rattan strings, to which at front and back was attached a piece of fibre cloth. Although dirty in appearance, only one man was afflicted with scaly skin disease. Visits to the hill-tops are avoided by them on account of the cold, which they felt much in our camp. Their dark-brown eyes had a kindly expression; in fact they are harmless and timid-looking beings, though in some parts of Borneo they engage in head-hunting, a practice probably learned from the Dayaks. Those I talked with said the custom was entirely discontinued, although formerly heads of other Punans, Malays, or Dayaks had been taken. These natives, following no doubt an observance prevalent among the Dayaks, had some of their teeth filed off in the upper jaw, the four incisors, two cuspids, and two bicuspids. Our Kayans from Kaburau had no less than ten teeth filed off, the four incisors and three more on either side. The operation is performed when a boy or girl becomes full-grown. For the boys it is not a painful experience, but the girls have theirs filed much shorter, which causes pain and loss of blood. The Punans make fire by iron and flint which are carried in a small bamboo box. They are expert regarding the manufacture of the sumpitan (blow-pipe), and are renowned for their skill in using this weapon and can make the poisonous darts as well as the bamboo caskets in which these are carried. Subsisting chiefly upon meat, their favourite food is wild pig. At the birth of a child all the men leave the premises, including the husband. The dead are buried in the ground a metre deep, head toward the rising sun. The Punans climb trees in the same manner as the Kayans and other Dayaks I have seen, _i.e._, by tying their feet together and moving up one side of the tree in jumps. The Kayans in climbing do not always tie the feet. These shy nomads remained in camp two days and allowed themselves to be photographed. One morning seven of them went out to look for game, armed with their long sumpitans and carrying on the right side, attached to the girdle, the bamboo casket that contained the darts. They formed a thrilling sight in the misty morning as in single file they swung with long, elastic steps up the hill. Though the Punans are famous as hunters and trappers, they returned in a few hours without any result. Next morning when I ventured to begin taking their measurements they became uneasy and one after another slipped away, even leaving behind part of their promised rewards, rice and clothing for the women, and taking with them only tobacco and a large tin of salt, which I rather regretted, as they had well earned it all. We made a trip of a few days' duration to the next elevation, Gunong Rega, in a northerly direction, most of the time following a long, winding ridge on a well-defined Punan trail. The hill-top is nearly 800 metres above sea-level (2,622 feet), by boiling thermometer, and the many tree-ferns and small palm-trees add greatly to its charm and beauty. Toward the end of February I made my way back to the river. From our last camp, one day's march downward, three of my strongest Kayans had carried 45 kilograms each. My Javanese cook, Wong Su, on arriving in camp, felt ill and I found him lying prostrate. He had not been perspiring on the march down the hills and complained of chilly sensations. He also presented the symptoms of a cold attack of malaria, but it was simply the effects produced by the bites of leeches, to which he was particularly susceptible. He had seven bites on one ankle and two on the other, and the resulting wounds were swollen and suppurating, but by the application of iodine followed by hot compress bandages, he was able to resume his work in three days. Nevertheless, suppuration formed even at a distance from the wounds, and five months later they were not entirely healed. It is bad policy to remove leeches forcibly in spite of the temptation to do so. The application of salt or tobacco juice makes them drop off, and the wounds are less severe, but few persons have the patience to wait after discovering a leech. The animal is not easily killed. The Dayaks always remove it with the sword edge and immediately cut it in two. On our return to our old lodging-house near Kaburau I spent a week making ethnological collections from the Kayan, who brought me a surprising number, keeping me busy from early until late. Before continuing my journey up the river I decided to go down to Tandjong Selor in order to buy necessary provisions and safely dispose of my collections. The Kayans were glad to provide prahus, the keelless boats which are used by both Dayak and Malay. The prahu, even the largest size, is formed from a dugout, and to the edge on either side are lashed two boards, one above and overlapping the other. This is accomplished by threading rattan through numerous small holes. As these are not completely filled by the rattan, they are plugged with fibre and calked with damar to prevent leakage. In order to travel more comfortably we lashed a prahu at either side of mine, while many of the natives who took advantage of the occasion to visit the shops in town, tied theirs at the rear of ours. It was a gay flotilla that proceeded down the river, the Dayaks singing most of the time, especially the women who accompanied their husbands, a number of them sitting in my large but crowded prahu. The women never seemed to grow tired of the Mae Lu Long, a jolly song which I had several times heard them singing when returning from the fields in the evening. Its words are of a language called Bungkok. The Kenyahs have the same song, and when I sang it to the Penihings on the Upper Mahakam they also understood it. These Kayans (Segai) are able to sing in the following six dialects or languages: Bungkok, Tekená, Siudalong, Siupanvei, Lepói, and Lui Lui. [Musical notation: KAYAN WOMEN'S SONG (On returning from the fields) Lively. Mae lun long son dong min ma--i min kam lam (_Repeat_)] At times as they paddled along, the men would sing without words, but more impressively, a song which until recently was used when the Kayan returned to a kampong from a successful head-hunting expedition. Though the Dutch authorities evidently have stamped out headhunting on the Kayan River, and have even destroyed the heads that were hanging in the houses, smashing them throwing them into the river, the Kayan still speaks of the custom in the present tense. Even one or two of my companions were credited with having taken part in such expeditions. To-day the young men sing the song of the returning head-hunters more for the fun of it, but the enthusiasm of all waxed high when the paddlers took it up. Those who did not paddle would reach out for the large trumpets which, as part of my collections, were lying in my prahu, and blow them with full force as an accompaniment, just as these instruments formerly were used on real occasions. A deep, strong bass sound is produced which resembles the distant whistle of a big ocean steamer. The men at the rear would join in with wild shouts like those made by American cowboys, most of them rising in their prahus to be able to give more impetus to the paddles. The powerful strokes of our enthusiastic crew made my prahu jump with jerky movements, and we progressed rapidly, arriving early in the afternoon at Tandjong Selor. This time I was made comfortable in a government's pasang-grahan that had just been completed, and which was far enough from the main street to avoid disturbing noise. [Musical notation: KAYAN HEAD-HUNTERS' SONG (On returning from a successful raid) Vae vae-ae vo vae vo ae vo ae-ae-ae-ae vo vae (_Repeat_)] I had found the Kayans very agreeable to deal with, and later had the same experience with many other tribes of Borneo. They ask high prices for their goods, but are not bold in manner. Though I made no special effort to ingratiate myself with them they always crowded round me, and sometimes I was compelled to deny myself to all callers regardless of their wishes. When I was reading or writing it was necessary to tell them to be quiet, also to stop their singing at night when my sleep was too much disturbed, but they were never offended. Presents of fruit, fish, mouse-traps, and other articles which they thought I might like, were constantly offered me. The women, free and easy in their manners, were ladylike to a surprising degree. In spite of having had ten teeth of the upper jaw filed down and the remainder coloured black by the constant chewing of betel, they are literally to the manner born. The controleur told me that his large district, the northernmost part of Dutch Borneo, called Bulungan, comprised "about 1,100 square miles." He estimated the number of inhabitants to be about 60,000, roughly speaking, 50 to each mile, but the population here as elsewhere follows the rivers. The Dayaks are greatly in majority, the Malays inhabiting the Sultan's kampong and a couple of small settlements in the vicinity. He had travelled a good deal himself and taken census where it was possible. His statistics showed that among the Dayaks the men outnumber the women somewhat, and that children are few. In one small kampong there were no children. The same fact has been noted in other parts of Borneo. The hard labour of the women has been advanced as a reason. Doctor A.W. Nieuwenhuis believes that inborn syphilis is the cause of the infertility of the Bahu on the Upper Mahakam. Whatever the reason, as a matter of fact the Dayak women are not fertile. The chief of the Kayan kampong, Kaburau, at the time of my visit had a fourth wife on probation for two years, having previously dismissed three because they bore him no children. With the Malays the condition is just the reverse. Their total number in the Bulungan district is perhaps only one-tenth that of Dayaks, but with them women preponderate and there are many children. Such is the case in the rest of Dutch Borneo, and is one reason why the Malays ultimately must dominate. The Sultan had for weeks been preparing to celebrate the marriage of his younger brother, which event occurred before I left, and the festivities were to continue for ten days. As a feature of the occasion, two young Malay girls presented a dance which they evidently had not practised sufficiently. Among the company was an old Malay who, according to the testimony of all present, was one hundred and thirty years old. He had lived to see seven sultans and was the ancestor of five generations. His movements were somewhat stiff, but otherwise he was a young-looking old man who, still erect, carried a long stick which he put down with some force at each step. I photographed the Sultan, who donned his official European suit, in which he evidently felt exceedingly uncomfortable. The operation finished, he lifted up the skirts of the long black robe as if to cool himself, and walked hurriedly away toward the house. CHAPTER VI RESUMPTION OF MY JOURNEY UP THE KAYAN RIVER--LONG PANGIAN--BERI-BERI-- HINTS ON PROPER PROVISIONS--KENYAHS FROM CENTRAL BORNEO--EFFECT OF A SPIDER'S BITE Shortly after my arrival in Tandjong Selor, fifty Dayaks, mostly Kenyahs, Oma Bakkah, and some Kayans, arrived from distant Apo Kayan on a trading expedition, and I considered this rather fortunate, as it would largely solve the difficult question of prahus and men for my journey up the river. The controleur and the Sultan also co-operated in assisting me to make a start, but when at last all seemed in readiness, the Malays allowed one of our prahus to drift away down toward the sea; after other similar delays I finally began my expedition up the Kayan River. At the old pasang-grahan near Kaburau, I found that during our two weeks' absence surprising changes had taken place in the vegetation of the immediate surroundings. The narrow path leading from the river up the embankment was now closed by large plants in flower, one species looking like a kind of iris. The grass which we had left completely cut down had grown over twenty centimeters. (Three weeks later it was in bloom.) It was the month of March and several big trees in the surrounding jungle were covered with masses of white blossoms. It is about 112 kilometres from Tandiong Selor to Long Pangian, our first halting-place, and, as the current of the river is not strong until the last day, the distance may be covered in four days. When low the Kayan River is light greenish-brown, but when high the colour changes to a muddy red-brown with a tinge of yellow. We used the dilapidated pasang-grahans as shelters, but one night we were obliged to camp on the river bank, so I had the tall, coarse grass cut down on the embankment, which was a few metres higher than the beach. Underneath the tall growth was another kind of grass, growing low and tangled like a mat, which could be disposed of by placing poles under it, lifting it and rolling it back, while at the same time the few roots attaching it to the ground were cut with swords. In less than fifteen minutes I had a safe place for my tent. The Dayaks, however, who have little to concern them except their prahus, in which is left whatever baggage they may have, as usual slept in the prahus or on the stony beach. During the night the river rose a metre, and some of the men awoke in water. The Chinese mandur, notwithstanding my warnings, had tied his prahu carelessly, and in the middle of the night it drifted off, with lighted lamp and two Dayaks sleeping in it. Luckily some of the others soon discovered the accident and a rescuing party brought it back early in the morning. The "kitchen" had been moved up to my place, and in spite of rain and swollen river we all managed to get breakfast. I had a call from the chief of the near-by kampong, who spoke excellent Malay, and had visited New Guinea twice on Dutch expeditions, once with Doctor Lorenz. One characteristic of the climate which had impressed him much was the snow, which had been very cold for the feet. He was kind enough to send me a present of a young fowl, which was very acceptable. Long Pangian is a small settlement where ten native soldiers are kept, under the command of a so-called posthouder, in this case a civilized Dayak from the South, who met us at the landing in an immaculate white suit and new tan shoes. It was warmer here toward the end of March than at Tandjong Selor, because there had not been much rain for a month. The soil was therefore hard, and in the middle of the day so heated that after a shower it remained as dry as before. A few Chinamen and Bugis who live here advance rice and dried fish to the Malays to provision expeditions into the utan which last two to three months, receiving in return rubber and damar. The Malays come from lower down on the river, and a good many of them leave their bones in the jungle, dying from beri-beri; others ill with the same disease are barely able to return to Long Pangian, but in three weeks those who do return usually recover sufficiently to walk about again by adopting a diet of katsjang idju, the famous green peas of the East Indies, which counteract the disease. The Malays mix native vegetables with them and thus make a kind of stew. The rice traded in Borneo is of the ordinary polished variety, almost exclusively from Rangoon, and it is generally supposed that the polishing of the rice is the cause of this illness. The Dutch army in the East seems to have obtained good results by providing the so-called silver-fleeced rice to the soldiers. However, I was told that, in some localities at least, the order had to be rescinded, because the soldiers objected so strongly to that kind of rice. Later, on this same river, I personally experienced a swelling of the ankles, with an acceleration of the heart action, which, on my return to Java, was pronounced by a medical authority to be beri-beri. Without taking any medicine, but simply by the changed habits of life, with a variety of good food, the symptoms soon disappeared. It is undoubtedly true that the use of polished rice is a cause of beri-beri, because the Dayaks, with their primitive methods of husking, never suffer from this disease, although rice is their staple food. Only on occasions when members of these tribes take part in expeditions to New Guinea, or are confined in prisons, and eat the rice offered of civilization, are they afflicted with this malady. In my own case I am inclined to think that my indisposition at the commencement of my travels in Borneo was largely due to the use of oatmeal from which the husks had been removed. Rolled oats is the proper food. Modern research has established beyond doubt, that the outer layers of grains contain mineral salts and vitamines that are indispensable to human life. Facts prove that man, if confined to an exclusive diet of white bread, ultimately dies from malnutrition. Cereals which have been "refined" of their husks present a highly starchy food, and unless they are properly balanced by base-forming substances, trouble is sure to follow. Scurvy, beri-beri, and acidosis have been fatal to many expeditions, though these diseases no doubt can be avoided by a judicious selection of provisions that insure acid and base forming nutrition in the right proportion. [*] [Footnote *: For an illuminating example of poorly balanced food, see _Physical Culture Magazine_, New York, for August, 1918, in which Mr. Alfred W. McCann describes the disaster to the Madeira-Mamore Railway Company in Brazil, when "four thousand men were literally starved to death on a white bread diet." In the July number may be found the same food expert's interesting manner of curing the crew of the German raider _Kronprinz Wilhelm_, which in April, 1915, put in at Newport News, in Virginia, with over a hundred men seriously stricken with acidosis. The crew had enjoyed an abundance of food from the ships they had raided and destroyed, but a mysterious disease, pronounced to be beri-beri, was crippling the crew. As the patients failed to respond to the usual treatment, the ship's chief surgeon consented to try the alkaline treatment which Mr. McCann suggested to him. The patients rapidly recovered on a diet consisting of fresh vegetable soup, potato-skin liquor, wheat bran, whole-wheat bread, egg yolks, whole milk, orange juice, and apples. No drugs were administered. It may be added that Dr. Alfred Berg (in the same magazine, September, 1919) recounts the cure of an absolutely hopeless case of stomach trouble by the vegetable juice prepared according to McCann's formula. He has found the results gained by the use of this soup in diet "so remarkable as to be almost unbelievable." The formula in question, as taken from McCann's article, is: "Boil cabbage, carrots, parsnips, spinich, onions, turnips together for two hours. Drain off liquor. Discard residue. Feed liquor as soup in generous quantities with unbuttered whole-wheat bread."] As a precautionary measure during my further travels in Borneo I adopted the green peas of the Orient in my daily diet, and when properly cooked they suit my taste very well. Every day my native cook made a pot of katjang idju, to which I added as a flavour Liebig's extract, and when procurable different kinds of fresh vegetables such as the natives use. Almost any kind of preserved vegetables or meat, especially sausages, is compatible with this stew, which is capable of infinite variations. For a year and a half I used it every day, usually twice a day, without becoming tired of it, and this regimen undoubtedly was the reason why the symptoms of acidosis never reappeared. I may add that besides this dish my main food was milk and biscuits, especially those made of whole wheat. In the tropics no milk will keep beyond a certain time limit unless it is sweetened, which renders it less wholesome. I found Nestlé & Company's evaporated milk serviceable, but their sterilised natural milk is really excellent, though it is expensive on an expedition which at times has to depend on carriers, and in mountainous regions like New Guinea it would be impracticable to carry it. Under these conditions one is content to have the evaporated or the sweetened brand. Sterilised milk, although perhaps a luxury, is a permissible one when travelling by boat, but the fact that it remains sound only a limited time should be borne in mind. However, it helped me to resist the adverse conditions of travel in the equatorial regions, and to return to civilisation in prime physical condition. When I had opportunity I ate the rice of the Dayaks, which is not so well sifted of its husks, and is by far more palatable than the ordinary polished rice. I found the best biscuits to be Huntley and Palmer's College Brown, unsweetened. As regards one's native companions, the Dayaks or Malays are quite satisfied as long as they get their full rations of rice and dried fish. This is the food they have always been accustomed to and their demands do not go further, although cocoanut-oil for frying the fish adds to their contentment. Katjang idju was usually given them if there was sugar enough to serve with it; they do not care for it unsweetened. I have dwelt at some length on the food question, because information on this subject may prove useful in case others are tempted to undertake journeys of exploration and research in the East Indies. To have the right kind of provisions is as important in the equatorial regions as in the arctic, and civilised humanity would be better off if there were a more general recognition of the fact that suitable food is the best medicine. Our Dayaks from Apo Kayan, who had proved very satisfactory, left us at Long Pangian. They had to wait several days before their friends caught up with them, so they could continue their long journey. This party of Dayaks, after spending one month at home in gathering rubber, had travelled in five prahus, covered some distance on land by walking over the watershed, and then made five new prahus in which they had navigated the long distance to Tandjong Selor. Ten men had been able to make one prahu in four days, and these were solid good boats, not made of bark. Already these people had been three months on the road, and from here to their homes they estimated that at least one month would intervene, probably more. The rubber which they had brought was sold for f. 2,500 to Hong Seng. They had also sold three rhinoceros horns, as well as stones from the gall-bladder and intestines of monkeys and the big porcupine, all valuable in the Chinese pharmacopoea. Each kilogram of rhino horn may fetch f. 140. These articles are dispensed for medical effect by scraping off a little, which is taken internally with water. On their return trip the Dayaks bring salt from the government's monopoly, gaudy cloths for the women, beads, ivory rings for bracelets and armlets, and also rice for the journey. Should the supply of rice become exhausted they eat native herbs. At Long Pangian we were able to develop plates effectively by hauling clear and comparatively cool water from a spring fifteen or twenty minutes away. By allowing six cans (five-gallon oil tins) of water to stand over night, and developing from 4.30 next morning, we got very good results, though the water would show nearly 76°F. My kinematograph was out of order, and desiring to use it on my journey higher up the river, I decided to go again to Tandjong Selor in an endeavour to have it repaired. The delay was somewhat irritating, but as the trip down-stream consumed only two days, I started off in a small, swift boat kindly loaned to me by the posthouder. Fortunately Mr. J.A. Uljee, a Dutch engineer who was in town, possessed considerable mechanical talent: in a few days he succeeded in mending the apparatus temporarily. As I was preparing to return, another party arrived from Apo Kayan. They were all Kenyahs, Oma Bakkah, who came in seven prahus, and proved so interesting that I postponed my journey one day. The government has put up a kind of lodging-house for visiting Dayaks, and the many fine implements and utensils which these men had brought with them made the interior look like a museum. Their beautiful carrying-baskets and other articles were standing in a continuous row around the walls. These Kenyahs did not seem to have been here before and were agreeable people with whom to deal. I have not, before nor since, seen such a tempting collection of the short sword of the Dayak which has grown to be almost a part of himself. In the northeast these famous swords are called mandau, but the designation parang is more extensively used, and I shall employ that name. One exceedingly fine one, belonging to the chief, I purchased for three sets of ivory rings, each set at fifteen florins, and one sarong. In the blacksmith's art the Dayaks have reached a higher level than the otherwise more advanced Malays and Javanese. There were three women in the party. One of the men was dressed as a woman and his hands were tatued. Though his voice was quite manly, there was something feminine about him and in appearance he was less robust than the others. According to my Chinese interpreter, who has travelled much, there are many such men in Apo Kayan. I stopped over night at one of the Bugis settlements which have large pineapple plantations. Such delicious pineapples as those in northern Borneo, with an unusual abundance of juice and very slightly acid, I had never before tasted. A gigantic white rat, about the size of a rabbit, which had been caught working havoc with the pineapples, was offered me for sale alive. I afterward regretted that, owing to the great difficulty of transportation, I declined, as no doubt it was a rare, if not a new, species. In the evening, on my return to Long Pangian, I went to bed in the old pasang-grahan which I occupied there. It consisted of a single large room and had an air of security, so for once I omitted to tuck the mosquito-net underneath me. But this was a mistake, for some animal bit me, and I was awakened by an intense pain on the left side of my head which became almost unbearable, then gradually subsided, and in two hours I slept again. I applied nothing to the affected area because of the impossibility of locating the bite. On the left side of my neck at the back soon developed two balls of moderate size which had not quite disappeared four years afterward. Next day I found a large dark-coloured spider which no doubt was the culprit. When chased it made long high jumps on the floor, but was finally captured. After that occurrence I paid strict attention to the mosquito-net, and when properly settled in my bed for the night I felt as safe against snakes or harmful smaller animals as if I were in a hotel in Europe. CHAPTER VII ON THE ISAU RIVER--A KENYAH CHILD'S FUNERAL--A GREAT FISHING EXPEDITION-- CATCHING FISH BY POISONING THE RIVER--TAKING OMENS--ENTERTAINING SCENES A report came to me that the people of kampong Long Isau (Long = sound; Isau = a kind of fruit) were making preparations to catch fish by poisoning the river, and that they were going immediately to build traps in which the stupefied fish are caught. I decided to go at once, and a few hours later we were on our way up the Isau River, a tributary to the Kayan, at the junction with which lies Long Pangian. We made our camp just opposite the kampong, which has a charming location along a quiet pool formed by the river at this point. The natives here and on the Kayan river above Long Pangian are Kenyahs. Our presence did not seem to disturb them in the least, nor did the arrival of some Malays from Long Pangian, who had closed their little shops in order to take part in the fishing. The chief was a tall, fine-looking man, the personification of physical strength combined with a dignified bearing. He readily granted permission to photograph the women coming down to the river to fetch water. The Kenyah women wear scantier attire than those of any other tribes of Borneo--simply a diminutive piece of cloth. It was picturesque to see these children of nature descend the steps of the rough ladder that leads down to the river, gracefully carrying on their backs a load of five or six bamboos, then wade into the calm water, where they bathed for a few moments before filling their receptacles. The Kenyah drinks water by taking it up in his hands while looking at it. In the house he drinks from the bamboo utensils which are always conveniently placed. The Malay throws water quickly into his mouth with his right hand. There seemed to be an epidemic of cholerine among the children, three having already died and one succumbed while we were at the kampong. The sounding of a gong drew attention to this fact and people assembled at the house of mourning where they wailed for an hour. The fishing was postponed one day on account of the burial, and the work of making the coffin could be heard over on our side of the river. During the night there was much crying. Next day at noon the funeral took place. First, with quick steps, came two men and two women, parents of children who had died before, followed by the father of the dead child and another man of the family who carried the coffin. The procession embarked in three prahus. The relatives were all attired in simple but becoming mourning garments, made from wood-fibre, consisting of tunics, and wrappers around the loins, which as regards the women covered practically the whole body, and on their heads they wore pointed hats of the same material. In the first prahu the little coffin was placed, and immediately behind it the mother lay with face down. Over her breast was a broad band of fibre which passed around to the back where it was tied in a large bow. The mourning garb worn in this and other Dayak tribes by relatives of a deceased person is an attempt to elude the evil spirit (antoh) who is regarded as the cause of death and whose wrath the remaining relatives are anxious to evade by disguising themselves in this way. The men poled fast, and ten minutes later the cortege ascended the bank without following a path, and deposited the coffin in a small, old-looking house. Once daily for three days food is deposited near a dead child, while in the case of adults it is given for a long time. The following day we all started up the river for the great catch. About 300 Dayaks had gathered, with 80 prahus. There were people from as far east as Kaburau, but those of the kampongs west of Long Pangian did not appear as expected. Some of the men carried spears specially devised for fishing, and some had brought their shields. We passed seven traps, in Kenyah called "bring," some in course of making, and others already finished. These rapidly made structures were found at different points on the river. Each consisted of a fence of slightly leaning poles, sometimes fortified with mats, running across the river and interrupted in the middle by a well-constructed trough, the bottom of which was made from poles put closely together, which allowed the water to escape but left the fish dry. The poison which stupefies or even kills the fish, without making it unfit for food, is secured from the root of a plant called tuba and described to me as being a vine. The root, which is very long, had been cut up into short pieces and made into about 1,800 small bundles, each kampong contributing its share. The packages had been formed into a beautifully arranged pile, in accordance with the artistic propensities of both Kenyah and Kayan, whose wood-stacks inside the rooms are models of neatness. The heap in this case was two and a half metres long and a metre high, a surprisingly small amount for the poisoning of a whole river. Before daylight they began to beat these light-brown tuba pieces until the bark became detached. The bark is the only part used, and this was beaten on two previously prepared blocks, each consisting of two logs lashed together, with flattened upper sides. On either side of these crude tables stood as many men as could find room, beating earnestly with sticks upon the bark, singing head-hunting songs the while with much fervour. Occasionally they interrupted the procedure to run about animatedly, returning shortly to resume their labour. Later an augury was to be taken, and all gathered closely on a wide pebbly beach. First a long piece of root, which is called the "mother of tuba," was beaten vigorously by a number of men. Then one of the principal actors stepped forward and began to make fire in the old-fashioned way, _i.e._, by pulling with both hands a piece of rattan around a bamboo stick held to the ground. According to several possibilities the divinations are expounded: Should the rattan break before smoke ensues, the undertaking is postponed for an hour or two; if the rattan breaks into two equal parts, fish will not be caught; but if the right-hand piece is longer than the left, all is well and much fish will be the result. The assemblage was chewing betel, smoking tobacco, and with hopeful patience anticipating a successful outcome, while one chief after another vainly attempted the augury. Only men who have taken heads are permitted to make divinations of fire at the tuba-fishing, and if all the elders have tried and failed the fishing is delayed one day. The same augury is used when dogs have run away. If the left-hand piece is the longer, the dog is dead; if of the same size, the dog will be found at a distant future time; but if the right is the longer, the animal will be recovered very soon. The reading of pig's liver in regard to the present or the future is used more by the Kayan than by the Kenyah. It was after nine o'clock in the morning when success was attained, and the fishers all suddenly dispersed. Some of them carried beaten bark into four empty prahus, threw water over it with their hands, then beat it again, until finally it was crushed to shreds. The prahus were then turned over and the stuff emptied into the water, where it soon disappeared. The bark on the blocks, which by this time had the appearance of a reddish-brown fibre, was now thrown into the river with much shouting and running about, whereupon the men ran out of sight, probably to take to their prahus. The majority of the stupefied fish are caught in the so-called "bring," the traps running across the river, but frantic endeavours were made by those engaged in the sport to take the fish before the fences were reached, and for this purpose hand nets or spears were used. This part of the proceeding was most entertaining. The fleet of prahus thoroughly searched the water, descending the river slowly in seven hours. At a few places where the stream makes large pools a few hundred metres long the boats loitered for a considerable time, as the prey would not often rise to the surface. Now and then there was much excitement over a fish that had risen and dived again, and the nearest prahus would all try to get it. Soon a man would be seen to jump after it with fixed spear, pass out of view, and after a while reappear on the surface, invariably with a large fish on the spear point. It was a magnificent exhibition of agility combined with skill. The Malays also captured many victims with their casting-nets. It is customary for each to consider as his personal property all the fish he obtains. These gatherings afford much delight to the children, of whom a great number accompanied their elders in the prahus. Women and children were in holiday attire, and, in spite of the grotesque ornaments of big rings in the split, distended ear-lobes, the latter were unusually charming. They had bracelets of brass and silver around their wrists and ankles; some of them wore necklaces of antique beads in dull colors, yellow, dark brown, or deep blue. Such a necklace may cost over a thousand florins. The spirit of the whole occasion was like that of a great picnic. All was over at five o'clock in the afternoon, when the people dispersed to their respective kampongs. At each of the seven "bring," each belonging to one of the principal men, were caught from 100 to 200 fish, most of them fairly large. I noted seven species. More than a thousand have been caught, and for the next two nights and days the people were engaged in opening and drying fish over fire and smoke. Thus preserved they are of a dark-brown tint, very light in weight, and will keep for three months. Before the dried product is eaten it is pounded, then boiled, and with each mouthful a pinch of salt is taken. During the night much fish was obtained even as far down the river as our kampong, and many men searched for it here, using as lamps petroleum in bamboo with a piece of cloth for a wick. Next day all the able-bodied people left the kampong for a week's stay at the ladangs (fields), one day's journey up the Kayan River, only the weak and old people remaining behind. On this occasion I observed five or six individuals, men and women, of a markedly light, yellowish colour. One woman's body was as light as that of a white woman, but her face was of the usual colour, perhaps somewhat lighter. CHAPTER VIII THE JOURNEY CONTINUED UP THE KAYAN RIVER--FIRST EXPERIENCE OF KIHAMS, OR RAPIDS--WITH KENYAH BOATMEN--ADVANTAGE OF NATIVE COOKING--LONG PELABAN--THE ATTRACTIVE KENYAHS--SOCIAL STRATA--CUSTOMS AND HABITS--VALUABLE BEADS At Long Pangian several days were spent in vain efforts to secure men and prahus to continue the journey up the Kayan River. The few Malays about, as usual, did not believe in work, but the posthouder finally succeeded in calling Kenyahs from the river above, and on the 1st of May we started with five prahus and twenty-four men. It was quite refreshing to hear again the joyous shouts of the paddlers, who worked eagerly and quickly against the strong current. A little over an hour brought us to some well-known rapids, or "kihams," as they usually are called in Borneo. Formerly this Kiham Raja had a bad reputation, Dayaks being killed here occasionally every year, but of late the government has blasted out rocks and made it more passable. However, even now it is no trifle to negotiate these rapids. Below them we halted and threw explosive Favier into the water in the hope of getting fish, and as soon as the upheaval of the water began the Kenyahs, as if by a given signal, hurried all the prahus out to the scene. With other natives than Dayaks this would have given me some anxiety, as the boats were heavily laden and contained valuable cameras and instruments. We secured quite a number of fish and the Kenyahs had a good time. The traveller soon assumes a feeling of confidence in these experienced men as, according to circumstances, they paddle, pole, or drag the prahu by a long piece of rattan tied to the inside of the bow. In passing these rapids most of them got out and dragged us by the rattan, but as the shore consisted of big stones that sometimes were inaccessible, they would often throw themselves with the rope into the foaming water and manage to get foothold a little further up. Sometimes it looked as if they would not succeed, the prahu receding precariously, but they were so quick in their movements and the prahus followed each other so closely that it was possible to give mutual help. Amban Klesau, the only son of the chief of Long Mahan, directed my prahu. He had taken part in an expedition to New Guinea and was an efficient and pleasant man who had seen something of the world, but his attire was fantastic, consisting of a long white nightshirt with a thin red girdle around the waist, to which was attached his parang adorned with many ornaments. He liked that shirt, for he did not take it off all day, notwithstanding the extreme heat. The dry season had set in, and though in our travels I took good care to place mats over the iron boxes in which cameras and plates were kept, still they became warm. When I photographed, perspiration fell like rain-drops. At Long Mahan (mahan = difficulties, or time spent) we found the pasang-grahan occupied by travelling Malays, two of whom were ill from a disease resembling cholera, so we moved on to a ladang a little higher up, where we found a camping-site. Next day we stopped to photograph a beautiful funeral house on the bank of the river, in which rest the remains of a dead chief and his wife. This operation finished, the Dayaks prepared their midday meal consisting of rice alone, which they had brought in wicker bottles. A number of bamboo sticks were procured, which were filled with rice and water and placed in a row against a horizontal pole and a fire was kindled underneath. As soon as this cooking was finished the bamboos were handed to the chief, Amban Klesau, who in the usual way split one open with his parang to get at the contents. Having eaten, he distributed the rest of the bamboos. I was given one, and upon breaking it open a delicious smell met my olfactory sense. The rice, having been cooked with little water, clung together in a gelatinous mass which had a fine sweet taste, entirely lacking when cooked in the white man's way. During my travels in Borneo I often procured such rice from the Dayaks. It is a very clean and convenient way of carrying one's lunch, inside of a bamboo, the open end closed with a bunch of leaves. Fish and meat are prepared in the same manner. With fish no water is used, nevertheless, when cooked it yields much juice, with no suggestion of the usual mud-flavoured varieties of Borneo. It will remain wholesome three days, and whenever necessary the bamboo is heated at the bottom. One who has tasted meat or cereals cooked between hot stones in earth mounds knows that, as regards palatable cooking, there is something to learn from the savages. It is a fact that Indians and Mexicans prepare green corn in a way superior to that employed by the best hotels in New York. There is no necessity of returning to the bamboo and hot stones as cooking utensils, but why not accept to a greater extent the underlying principle of these methods? In the evening we arrived at Long Pelaban, a large Kenyah kampong, where for some time I made my headquarters. On the opposite bank of the river we cut the tall grass and jungle and made camp. Soon we were visited by many small boys who afterward came every day to look for tin cans. With few exceptions they were not prepossessing in appearance; nearly all were thin, and one was deaf and dumb, but they were inoffensive and well-behaved. During my travels among Dayaks I never saw boys or girls quarrel among themselves--in fact their customary behaviour is better than that of most white children. Both parents treat the child affectionately, the mother often kissing it. The sumpitan (blow-pipe) is found in his room, but the Kenyah usually prefers to carry a spear when he goes hunting. In his almost daily trips to the ladang he also takes it along, because instinctively mindful of enemy attacks. The Kenyahs are physically superior to the Kayans and the other natives I met, and more free from skin disease. They are less reserved than the Kayans, who are a little heavy and slow. In none of these tribes is any distrust shown, and I never saw any one who appeared to be either angry or resentful. Though the so-called Dayaks have many traits in common, of them all the Kenyahs are the most attractive. They are intelligent and brave and do not break a contract; in fact, you can trust their word more completely than that of the majority of common white people. Neither men nor women are bashful or backward, but they are always busy, always on the move--to the ladang, into the jungle, building a house, etc. Murder by one of the same tribe is unknown and a lonely stranger is quite safe in the kampong, where they do not like to kill anybody. Among the Kenyahs and Kayans and many other tribes are found distinct social strata, upper, middle, and low. The first class ranks as a sort of nobility and until recent times had slaves, who were kindly treated. The members of the second class have less property, but they are active in blacksmithing, making prahus, determining the seasons by astronomical observations, etc. These well-bred Dayaks are truthful and do not steal. In their conception a thief will have to carry around the stolen goods on his head or back in the next life, forever exposed to scorn and ridicule. Third-class people are descendants of slaves and, according to the posthouder at Long Pangian, himself a Dayak, they are the more numerous on the Kayan River. These may tell lies, and ten per cent of them are apt to appropriate small articles, but they never steal money. The Kenyah woman is most independent, and may travel unaccompanied by another woman with a party of men for days, sleeping aside, separate from the men. She and her husband both bring wood to the house and she does the cooking. No man has ever been known to beat or kill his wife. If dissatisfied, either may leave the other. The daughter of the chief at Long Mahan had had three husbands. Abortive plants are used, but the men do not know what they are. Every day I went to the kampong, and it was a pleasure to visit these still primitive natives. Women, as usual, were timid about being photographed, for it is a universal belief that such an operation prevents women from bearing children. However, by giving money, cloth, sugar, or the like, which would enable them to offer some little sacrifice to protecting spirits, I usually succeeded. But if a woman is pregnant or has care of a small child, no inducements are of any avail, as an exposure to the camera would give the child bad luck or a disease that might kill it. The women here had the teeth of the upper jaw in front filed off, but not the men, who make plugs from yellow metal wire, procured in Tandjong Selor, with which they adorn their front teeth, drilling holes in them for the purpose. The plug is made with a round flat head, which is the ornamental part of it, and without apparent rule appears in one, two, or three incisors, usually in the upper jaw, sometimes in both. One of my men took his out to show to me. The women are cleanly, combing their hair frequently and bathing three times daily. The men bathe even oftener; still all of them have more or less parasites in their hair and frequently apply lime juice in order to kill them. A young woman, whom I remembered as one of two who had danced for the kinematograph, had considerable charm of manner and personal attraction; it was a trifle disconcerting to find my belle a little later hunting the fauna of her lover's head. Her nimble fingers were deftly expert in the work and her beloved was visibly elated over the demonstration of her affection. These natives do not tolerate hair on the body and pull it out or shave it off. The men even remove the hair at the edge of the scalp all around the head, letting the remainder attain a growth of about sixty centimetres, and this is tucked up in a coil under the cap. The hair of eyebrows and eyelids is removed with great care. The women perform this operation, and tweezers made for the purpose are usually seen among the ornaments that hang from the tops of their hats. I was told that people careful about their appearance have their eyes treated in this manner every ten or even every five days. It is a service which a young man's "best girl" is glad to perform and a couple thus engaged may often be seen. Truly the wiles of Cupid are many. The Dayaks are fond of ornaments and the Kenyahs are no exception. The extraordinary number of large tin or brass rings worn in the vastly distended ear-lobe is well known and is the striking feature in the appearance of most tribes. I was told that among the Kenyahs the ear-lobes of children are pierced when the infant is seven days old. Especially the women of this and many other tribes carry this fashion to extremes, the lobe being so elongated that it may be twisted twice around the ear. The heavy weight of rings sometimes breaks the thin band to which the lobe has been stretched. The men may also wear rings, though they remove them when going into the utan or to the ladang, and, although in this regard the males make less display than the females, in the wearing of valuable necklaces they excel them. Necklaces of beads are worn by men, women, and children. When money is obtained by selling rubber to the Chinese, or by taking part in an expedition to New Guinea, there is much display of such ornaments, many of which are manufactured in Europe. But the Dayaks are extremely particular about the kind they buy; therefore it is useless to take beads out to Borneo without knowing the prevalent fashion. On the Kayan River a favoured style of bead is tubular in form, light yellow in hue, and procured from Bugis traders who are said to obtain their stock in New Guinea. Others of similar shape, but brown in colour, come from Sumatra. When children are small they are carried on the backs of their mothers in a kind of cradle, the outside of which is often elaborately adorned with beads. The chief in Long Pelaban had one, the value of which I computed to be two thousand florins. The choicest beads are very old and have been kept for centuries in Borneo. Some are thought to be of Venetian origin, while others resemble a Roman variety. It is very difficult to induce the Dayaks to sell any of these, which they guard as precious heirlooms and the value of which they fully realize. According to Hose and McDougall, the wife of a rich chief in Sarawak may possess old beads to the value of thousands of pounds. CHAPTER IX HYDROPHOBIA--FUNERAL CEREMONIES--AT A PADDI HARVEST--ANOTHER TUBA-FISHING EXPEDITION--THE CHARM OF PRIMITIVE MAN--INTERESTING CEREMONIES--ON HEAD-HUNTING GROUND Hydrophobia was raging at Long Pelaban, and during my stay one man and seven children were bitten. For religious reasons the Dayaks do not like to kill dogs, so in cases like this the canines that are ill are caught, their legs are tied together, and they are thrown into the water to die without being killed. Over forty were disposed of in this way. I saw one of the hydrophobia victims standing in the water as if alive, a little of the back showing above the surface. The sounding of a gong one day signified the death of a woman. A party immediately went out to procure a suitable tree from which to make the coffin. Throughout the night we could hear without intermission the sounds produced by those who hollowed out the log and smoothed the exterior. Next day I was present at the obsequies of the dead woman. On the large gallery men were sitting in two long rows facing each other, smoking their green-hued native tobacco in huge cigarettes, the wrappers of which are supplied by large leaves from two species of trees. A jar of native brandy stood between them, of which but little was consumed. More alcohol is made here from sugar-cane than from rice. The latter is the better and sweeter, the former being sour. At the end of the gallery stood the large, newly made casket, which was open, the corpse covered with cloth resting inside. It was an oblong, heavy box supposed to represent a rhinoceros, though nothing positively indicated this except the large head of this animal at one end, which, though rudely made, was cut with considerable artistic skill. The family sat around the casket, one man smoking tobacco, the women wailing and occasionally lifting the cover to look at the face of the corpse. One babi (pig) that had belonged to the deceased had been killed and was served with rice. In the afternoon, having partaken of food, a number of men carried the heavy burden on their shoulders down to the river, preceded by two women belonging to the family. It was placed on two prahus, which were lashed together, and then taken down the river to be buried. After the death of a relative women mourners cut off about two centimetres from the end of the hair; the men cut an equal portion from the front. Later in the afternoon the gong announced another death, that of a child. On this account some sixty Malays who were camped here, bound for the utan higher up the river, in search of rubber and damar, delayed their departure as did some Kenyahs who were on their way to Apo Kayan, and the people of the kampong did not go to their ladangs. The following day the sound of the gong was again heard, but this time it was occasioned by the fact that an adept had taken augurs from the flight of the red hawk, and to him it was given that illness would cease. It was difficult to hold the busy Dayaks in the kampong. At this time, the beginning of May, their attention was absorbed in harvesting the paddi. Every day they started up the river to their ladangs a few miles distant, returning in the evening with their crops. I decided to visit these fields, taking my cameras with me. In years gone by the kampong people have gradually cleared the jungle from a large tract of country, but part of this clearing was still covered by logs that had not been burned. Over these hundreds and hundreds of fallen trees, down steep little galleys and up again, a path led to the present fields higher up in the hills, very easy walking for bare feet, but difficult when they are encased in leather shoes. For over an hour and a half we balanced along the prostrate trunks, into some of which steps had been cut, but, arduous as was the ascent, we naturally found the descent in the evening a more hazardous undertaking; yet all emerged from the ordeal with sound limbs. We arrived a little before noon and found some of the natives busy preparing their midday meal in and around a cool shed on top of a hill from where an extensive view was obtained of the past and present fields of the country. Near by was a watch-tower raised on top of upright logs. At one side of it four bamboos of different sizes were hanging horizontally over each other, which produced different notes when struck, and probably had been placed there for the purpose of frightening birds away. The Kenyahs "take turns" helping each other to harvest, and on this occasion they were assisting their chief. It was a scene of much animation, as if it were a festival, which in reality the harvesting is to them. The long row of men and women in their best garments, with picturesque sun-shades, cut the spikes one by one, as the custom is, with small knives held in the hollow of their hands. Assuredly the food which they received was tempting to hungry souls. The rice, after being cooked, was wrapped in banana leaves, one parcel for each, forty-four in all, and as many more containing dried fish which also had been boiled. The people kindly acceded to my request to have them photographed. They then packed the harvested paddi in big baskets, which they carried on their backs to the storehouse in the kampong the same afternoon. From planting time till the end of the harvest--four or five months--a man is deputed to remain in the kampong to whom fish is forbidden, but who may eat all the rice he wants, with some salt, and as recompense for his services receives a new prahu or clothing. A few days later, the chief having early in the morning taken omens from a small bird, the inhabitants with few exceptions departed on a tuba-fishing expedition to the Pipa, a small tributary to the Kayan River farther north. The two kampongs, Long Pelaban and Long Mahan, combined forces, and as so many were going I experienced difficulty in arranging to join the excursion, but finally succeeded in securing prahus and men from the latter place. We passed a small settlement of Punans, former nomads, who had adopted the Dayak mode of living, having learned to cultivate rice and to make prahus. We found the people of Long Pelaban camped on a stony beach in two long rows of rough shelters, each row containing many families under one common roof of bark. The Long Mahan people had gone farther and camped on a similar beach, and between the two I discovered a pleasant location in the jungle by ascending the high bank of the river. Hardly had we finished putting up our tents when a violent thunder-storm arose, which continued unabated for half an hour, and thereafter with diminished force throughout the night. Many of the Dayaks moved up to our position, and next day the river ran high, so we did not make a start. In the morning, after a fine bath, as I was about to take breakfast, a large party of visitors from Long Mahan approached. They were unacquainted with the Malay tongue and showed obvious signs of embarrassment, but by distributing a little candy to the children and biscuits to the adults harmony was soon established. Two unusually attractive small girls wearing valuable bead necklaces, who at first had appeared takut (frightened), unconcernedly seated themselves on their heels in front of me. The others perched in a long row on two poles which they laid on the wet ground, all of them preparing to watch me eat breakfast. Among other things the menu included half a dozen small boiled potatoes brought from Tandjong Selor and obtained from Central Java; they usually keep for four or five weeks and are a valuable aid in maintaining good health in the tropics. The Kenyahs had never seen potatoes before, and one man handed some of the peelings to his wife for inspection, whereupon I gave her a potato, which she peeled carefully, divided, and gave a piece to each of the two children, with whom, however, it did not find favour. I opened a can of milk and another of cream, for I was fresh from Europe and had plenty of provisions. After helping myself from the cans I gave them to the children, who greatly relished what was left in them, but they did not eat greedily, behaving like white children who have not learned from adults to eat hastily. The Kenyahs are very courteous. When a man passed my tent opening he generally called aloud, as if announcing his presence. In visiting the camps I found the Kenyahs, even on an occasion like the present, busily engaged at some occupation, and seldom or never was anybody seen sitting idle. The men were splitting rattan into fine strings, later to be used for many purposes: for plaiting the sheath of the parang; for making bottle-shaped receptacles for rice; for securing the axe to the handle, etc. Women were doing the same work with bamboo, first drying the stalks by standing them upright before a fire. These fine bamboo strings are later used in making winnowing trays and for various kinds of beautifully plaited work. When employed in this way, or on other occasions, the women smoke big cigarettes as nonchalantly as the men. Continuing the journey next day, we found it a laborious undertaking over many small rapids. The water had already subsided, so we had to wade most of the day, dragging the prahus, a task which we found rather fatiguing, as the stones are difficult to step on in the water and very hot out of it. The river was narrow, but here and there widened out into pools. Many "bring" were erected over the stream, and I noticed that they were smaller than those I had seen before, but the arrangements for beating the tuba were far more elaborate. On the river bank, as we approached the main camping-place, piles of the light-brown root were often seen, resembling stacks of wood. The gathering of these roots, I learned, was accomplished in one day. Our men had helped in the work and they also put up a couple of "bring" near our camp for our own use. Early in the afternoon two rather solid structures, built like bridges across the small river, were erected; on these the beating of the tuba was to take place next morning. In the middle, lengthwise, was placed a long, narrow excavated log, longer than the bridge itself, for the use of the beaters. In the evening a large tree crashed to earth not far from my camp, and at a later hour another, still nearer, thunderously broke with its fall the silence of night. At two o'clock in the morning the beating of tuba began, to the accompaniment of shouts and outcries, and though the noise was considerable and unusual I did not find it intolerable, but fell asleep again. I arose early, and after partaking of some excellent Dayak rice I walked down to view the proceedings, and found the scene engrossing. Men and women stood close together on each side of the long trough, crushing the tuba with sticks in a similar manner to that adopted when pounding rice. The trough had at one end a small compartment, open like the rest, but the sides had been smoothed with an axe and when beaten served the purpose of a gong. The bark was pounded into small pieces and then thrown to one side upon large palm leaves which covered the bridge. Boarding a prahu, I next visited Amban Klesau's bridge, a little lower down, which was larger and more pretentious, with tall poles erected on it, and from the top hung ornamental wood shavings. The end of the trough here had actually been carved into a semblance of the head of "an animal which lives in the ground," probably representing a supernatural being usually called nagah. The owner himself was beating it with a stick on both sides of the head, and this made more noise than the pounding of the fifty men and women who stood working at the trough. At times they walked in single file around it. The pounding was finished in the forenoon, and all went a little farther down the river to take the fire omen at a place where the river widened out into a pool. A man with many tail-feathers from the rhinoceros hornbill (_buceros rhinoceros_) stuck into his rattan cap seated himself on a crude platform which had been built on upright poles over the water. Some long pieces of tuba-root were lying there, and he squatted on his heels facing the principal men who were sitting on the bank south of him. A few minutes later the chief of Long Mahan made his way out to the platform over some logs which loosely bridged the space to the bank of the river, and attempted the fire-making, but after two unsuccessful attempts he retired. Several other prominent men came and tried, followed by the man with the tail-feathers in his cap, but he also failed; whereupon they all stepped ashore, taking the fire-making implements and some of the roots with them, in order to see whether they would have better luck on land. The brother of the chief now came forward and made two attempts, with no more success than the others. Urged to try again, he finally succeeded; the assemblage silently remained seated for a few minutes, when some men went forth and beat tuba with short sticks, then threw water upon it, and as a final procedure cast the bark into the river and again beat it. From the group of the most important people an old man then waded into the water and cast adrift burning wood shavings which floated down-stream. In the meantime the Long Mahan people had gone to throw the bark into the river from their elaborate bridge, and those of Long Pelaban went to their establishments. The finely pounded bark soon began to float down the river from the bridges as it might were there a tannery in the neighbourhood. Presently white foam began to form in large sheets, in places twenty-five centimetres thick and looking much like snow, a peculiar sight between the dark walls of tropical jungle. Above the first little rapid, where the water was congested, a portion of the foam remained like snow-drift, while most of it continued to advance and spread itself over the first long pool. Here both men and women were busily engaged catching fish with hand-nets, some wading up to their necks, others constantly diving underneath and coming up covered with light foam. The insignificant number of fish caught--nearly all of the same kind--was surprising and disappointing. Even small fish were eagerly sought. There was little animation, especially at the beginning of the sport, and no spears were used. Several tons of bark must have been utilized, at least eight or ten times as much as at the Isau River, and I regretted that they should have so little reward for their trouble. Five days were spent in travel, two days in making "bring" and gathering tuba, and they had pounded tuba for eight hours, since two o'clock in the morning. After all these exertions many prahus must have returned without fish. Possibly the fish had been practically exterminated by the tuba poisoning of former years. One man told me that many fish remain dead at the bottom, which partly accounts for the scanty result. I was desirous of having Chonggat remain here for a week of collecting, but no Kenyah was willing to stay with him, all being deterred through fear of Punan head-hunters, who, on this river, not so long ago, had killed some rubber-gatherers from Sarawak. Besides, they also anticipated revenge on the part of Kayans, eleven of whom had been killed by the Kenyahs in Apo Kayan one and a half years previously. According to their own reports and that of the Chinese interpreter, the heads of six men and five women had been taken after a successful attack on the two prahus in which the Kayans (Oma-Lakan) travelled. The Kenyahs (Oma-Kulit) who had committed the outrage had been apprehended by the Company, as the government is called by the natives. The brother of the chief of Long Pelaban, who was with us fishing, three months previously had returned from Samarinda, where he had spent one year in prison for having been implicated in a minor way in this crime, while the main offenders were serving labor terms of six years in Sorabaia, Java. This report was confirmed by a Dutch officer whom I met a month later and who came from Apo Kayan. The attacking Kenyahs were eighty in number, of whom ten were punished. The affair took place in 1912 at a distance of six hours, going down-stream, from Long Nawang. Though head-hunters are known to travel wide and far, and distant Apo Kayan is not too remote for them, nevertheless to me, as well as to Chonggat, the risks seemed unfounded; however, there remained no alternative but for all of us to return to Long Pelaban. CHAPTER X IN FOG AND DARKNESS--A RAID BY ANTS--DEPARTURE FROM LONG PELABAN--AN EXCITING PASSAGE--RETURN TO TANDJONG SELOR During April and the first half of May the weather was warm with very little rain, though at times thunder was heard at a distance. But during the second half of May thunder and lightning in the evening was the usual occurrence, with an occasional thunder-clap at close quarters. At night it rained continually though not heavily, but this was accompanied by a dense fog which did not clear away until nine o'clock in the morning. When the dark clouds gathered about sunset, it was not with exactly cheerful feelings that I anticipated the coming night. My tent stood at a little distance from the rest of the camp, for the reason that solitude at times has its charms. When the lamp outside the tent door was extinguished, and all was enveloped in darkness and fog to an overwhelming degree, a feeling of loneliness and desolation stole over me, though it soon left me when I thought of the glories of the coming day, when all the rain would be forgotten. Shortly after sunset one evening scores of thousands of ants descended upon me while supper was in progress. In the dim light afforded by the lamp I had not perceived their approach until I felt them around my feet. Upon looking about, I discovered to my astonishment that the floor, which had a covering of closely set bamboo stalks, was black with ants and that regiments of them were busily climbing up my bed. Coming in such immense numbers and unannounced, their appearance was startling. Outside the soil seemed to move. Twice before I had received visits from these ants but had prevented their entering the tent by pouring hot water over them. The pain caused by their bite is severe, although of short duration, and they are therefore feared by the Dayaks and Malays. By liberal application of hot water and burning paper on the ground we finally succeeded in driving the unwelcome visitors out of the tent; but new hordes were constantly arriving, and we battled for two hours before I could retire, carrying many bites as souvenirs. None were then in the tent and next day not a trace of them remained. The Chinese photographer had been there twenty minutes before the raid began and had not noticed even one ant. The attack began as suddenly as it ceased. My stay on the Kayan River had been interesting as well as profitable. Twice during that period requests had come from the government for Dayaks willing to join a Dutch enterprise operating in northern New Guinea, and the chances of my securing sufficient men on this river for my expedition were evidently gone. However, with the assistance of the government I felt sure there would be no difficulty in securing them from other rivers of Dutch Borneo, but I deemed it wise to begin my return trip. The river was now so swollen that it was difficult to effect a departure, and current report indicated that if the rain continued it might be necessary to wait a month before the rapids below could be passed. I had all my belongings packed in order to be ready to start whenever it was found advisable to do so. While waiting I went over to the kampong to kinematograph two dancing girls who the day before, owing to their bashfulness, had detained us so long that the light became inadequate. At last the river fell about a metre during the night, and the chief and his brother called on me early in the morning to suggest that our best plan would be to start in the middle of the day. Only a couple of hours are consumed in going to Long Pangian from here, on account of the downward course of the river, which forms rapids and currents at frequent intervals. As the men appeared disinclined to go, the posthouder of Long Pangian, who then was with me, crossed the river and gave the necessary impetus to action. Soon a big prahu was hauled by many men down the bank to the river; this was followed by others, taken from their storage place under the house, and shortly afterward we had facilities for departure. Most of the boats were medium-sized; mine was the largest, about seven and a half metres long, but so unsteady that the luggage was loaded with difficulty. As usual my prahu carried the most valuable articles, the photographic outfit, scientific instruments, etc., all of which was finally secured by tying rattan over it from side to side. Naturally, fewer men are needed going down a river than coming up, and I had only four. At two o'clock in the afternoon a start was made and we proceeded rapidly down-stream. The man standing at the bow is the commander, not the one that steers with his paddle at the stern, and it appeared to be their custom always to take the boat where the current was strongest and the water most turbulent. It seemed reckless, but my prahu, heavily laden, acted admirably, shooting through the waves without much exertion. After nearly an hour of refreshing passage we approached the main rapid, Kiham Raja. I kept behind the rest of the fleet, in order, if possible, to get a snap-shot. In the beautiful light of the afternoon the prahus afforded a splendid sight as, at short intervals, they passed along one after another, the first ones already considerably lower than mine. My Kenyahs, all standing, seemed to know exactly where to go and what to do, and we moved along rapidly. Without a moment's hesitation we shot down the kiham. This time they did not choose the place where the waves ran highest, and we quickly slipped down the rapid, turbulent current, while the big waves on our right threatened to engulf our craft. As usual, it was difficult to get away from Long Pangian, but the posthouder exerted himself to the utmost, and after a few days we were ready to leave for Tandjong Selor. To a large prahu that we had obtained we had to lash a log on either side to keep it steady. I found that the Kenyah prahus in these parts usually are unstable. One Dayak that had been loading mine in stepping ashore tipped it to such a degree that two large green waterproof bags containing clothing, blankets, etc., fell overboard. They floated well and were recovered. Having finally put mats on upright saplings over the boats, as shade against the sun and protection against rain, we were off, but it was not altogether a pleasant two days' journey. My heavily laden prahu, having been out of use for some time, leaked badly, so one of the five men had all he could do to throw out the water which poured in through the holes of the rattan fastenings. The man who was bailing sat opposite me in the middle section, and for want of space I had to hold my feet up, with one leg resting on either side of the prahu. I wore a pair of London Alpine boots with thick soles and nails, weighing eight pounds, which I had found too heavy for walking, but which were excellent for wear in wet boats. When, in order to change my uncomfortable position, I placed both legs on one side, the edge of the prahu nearly touched the water and the Dayaks would cry out in warning. I have not on other rivers in Borneo met with prahus quite as cranky as these. At the Bugis settlement I bought fifty delicious pineapples at a very moderate price and distributed them among us. CHAPTER XI DEPARTURE FOR BANDJERMASIN--A PLEASANT STEAMSHIP LINE--TWO HEAD-HUNTERS-- AN EXPEDITION TO LAKE SEMBULO--SAMPIT--THE ORANG-UTAN--STORMY WEATHER--A DISAGREEABLE RECEPTION In Tandjong Selor I was exceedingly busy for three days getting boxes and packing the collections, and early in June I departed for Bandjermasin, on S.S. _De Weert_. It has been my fortune to travel much on the steamships of the Royal Packet Boat Company, which controls the whole Malay Archipelago from Singapore to New Guinea and the Moluccas. It is always a pleasure to board one of these steamers, as the officers are invariably courteous, and the food is as excellent on the smaller steamers as on the large ones. The same kind of genuine, good claret, at a reasonable price, is also found on all of them, and it may readily be understood how much I enjoyed a glass of cool Margaux-Medoc with dinner, after over five months in the utan. The sailors on these steamers are Javanese. Those from Madura, rather small men, made an especially good impression. A captain told me they never give any trouble except when on leave ashore in Sourabaia, where they occasionally remain overtime, but after a few days they come to the office and want to be taken on again. They are punished by having their wages deducted for the days they are absent, but the loss of coin does not trouble them much. If they have cigarettes and their meals they are happy, and they never accumulate money. They are engaged for one year and some of them renew their contracts. As we sailed southward from the Kayan River we were told of a French count who with his wife lived on an island three or four kilometres long, near the coast. At first he had fisheries and sold dried fish, which, with rice, forms the staple food of the natives of Borneo and other countries of the East. He was enabled to change his business into cocoanut plantations, which to-day cover the island. According to report they dressed for dinner every day, to the end that they might not relinquish their hold upon the habits of civilised society. Later I learned that when the war broke out the count immediately went to France to offer his services. Lieutenant C.J. La Riviere came aboard in Samarinda, en route to Holland for a rest, after being in charge of the garrison at distant Long Nawang in Apo Kayan. There are 40 soldiers, 2 officers, and 1 doctor at that place, which is 600 metres above sea, in a mountainous country with much rain, and therefore quite cool. In a single month they had had one and a half metres of rain. Officers have been known to spend three months in going from Long Iram to Apo Kayan, travelling by prahu almost the whole distance. Usually the trip may be made in a couple of months or less. The river at last becomes only four metres broad, with very steep sides, and in one night, when it rains copiously, the water may rise five to six metres. Mail usually arrives three times a year, but when the lieutenant boarded the steamer he had not seen a newspaper for five months. He expressed his opinion that the government would find it extremely difficult to stamp out head-hunting in Apo Kayan, with its 15,000 Dayaks, because the custom is founded in their religious conception. "Our ancestors have always taken heads," they say; "we also do it, and the spirits will then be satisfied. We have learned it from our ancestors, who want us to do it." "They often ask us," the lieutenant said: "When are you going to leave Long Nawang? When you are gone then we will again take up the head-hunting." These same Kenyahs are entrusted to go to Long Iram to bring provisions to the garrison. About eighty of them are sent, accompanied by only two soldiers, and after three months' absence the goods arrive safely at Long Nawang. On board the steamer were also two Punan head-hunters from the interior who were being taken to Bandjermasin under the guard of two soldiers. They had been caught through the assistance of other Punans, and in prison the elder one had contracted the dry form of beri-beri. He was a pitiful sight, in the last stage of a disease not usually found among his compatriots, no longer able to walk, looking pale and emaciated and having lost the sight of his right eye. They had rather wild but not unpleasant faces, and were both tatued like the Kenyahs. Their hair had been cut short in the prison. I later took the anthropometric measurements of the young man, who was a fine specimen of the savage, with a splendid figure, beautifully formed hands and feet--his movements were elastic and easy. As it had been found impossible to secure Dayaks in the Bulungan for my expedition to New Guinea, the resident courteously offered to get eighty men from the Mahakam River. This would take at least two months and gave me opportunity to visit a lake called Sembulo, a considerable distance west of Bandjermasin. It was necessary first to go to Sampit, a small town, two days distant, on a river of the same name, where there is a controleur to whom the resident gave me an introduction, and who would be able to assist in furthering my plans. I could not afford to wait for the monthly steamer which touches at Sampit on its way to Singapore, so I arranged to make the trip on board an old wooden craft which was under repairs in Bandjermasin, and in the afternoon of June 5 we started. The steamer was small, slow, and heavily laden, so it was not a very pleasant trip. As we sailed down the great Barito River on a dark and cloudy evening, from the deck, which was scarcely a metre above the muddy water, one might observe now and then floating clumps of the plants that thrive so well there. On approaching the mouth of the river the water, with the outgoing tide, became more shallow. The Malay sailor who ascertained the depth of the water by throwing his line and sang out the measures in a melodious air, announced a low figure, which made the captain stop immediately. The anchor was thrown and simultaneously a great noise of escaping steam was heard. Before the engine-room the sailors were seen trying to stop the steam which issued, holding sacks in front of them as a protection against being scalded. Coupled with my observation that there were no life preservers in my little cabin, nor anywhere else, the situation appeared disquieting, but the captain, a small-sized Malay and a good sailor, as all of that race are, reassured me by saying that it was only the glass for controlling the steam-power that was broken. After a while the escape of steam was checked and a new glass was put in. The old craft kept up its reputation for rolling excessively, and I was glad when finally we entered the smooth waters of the Sampit River. We stopped for a couple of hours at a small kampong, where I made the acquaintance of a Polish engineer in the government's service, who was doing some work here. He told me that thirty years ago, in the inland country west of Kotawaringin, he had seen a young Dayak whose chest, arms, and legs, and most of the face, were covered with hair very similar in colour to that of the orang-utan, though not so thick. The hair on his face was black, as usual. There were no Malays at that head, but many Dayaks. I have heard reports of natives in the Schwaner mountains, who are said to have more hair on the body than Europeans, of a brownish colour, while that on the head is black. Controleur Michielsen, [*] in the report of his journey to the upper Sampit and Katingan in 1880, describes a certain Demang Mangan who had long, thin hair on the head, while on the chest and back it was of the same brown-red colour as that of the orang-utan. His arms were long, his mouth large and forward-stretching, with long upper lip, and his eye glances were shy. Among the Dayaks he was known as mangan (red). [Footnote *: Controleur W.J. Michielsen, _Verslag einer Reis door de boven distrikten der Sampit en Katingan rivieren in Maart en April_, 1880.] About noon we arrived at Sampit, a clean, attractive village situated on slightly higher ground than is generally available on Bornean rivers. The stream is broad here, having almost the appearance of a lake. As is the custom, a small park surrounds the controleur's residence, and in the outskirts of the town is a small, well-kept rubber plantation belonging to a German. Sampit is a Katingan word, the name of an edible root, and according to tradition the Katingans occupied the place in times long gone by. The weather was remarkably dry, so that the tanks at the corners of the controleur's house, on which he depended for water, were becoming depleted. When the fruits of the utan are ripe, the orang-utan may at times be heard crying out in the neighbourhood, but on account of the dry weather they had retired deeper into the jungle. Chonggat shot only one, which was but half-grown and easily killed by a charge of shot. It is often difficult to discover an orang-utan because he has a knack of hiding himself where the foliage is densest, and if alarmed will proceed along the branches of tall trees and thus disappear from sight. This intelligent, man-like ape is probably not so common in Dutch Borneo as he is supposed to be. Mr. Harry C. Raven, who collected animals in the northeastern part, told me that in a year he had shot only one. The orang-utans are generally found in Southern Borneo and do not go very far inland; in Central Borneo they are extremely rare, almost unknown. It is to be hoped that these interesting animals will not soon be exterminated. A Malay, the only hunter in Sampit, told me that some are so old that they can no longer climb trees. When wounded an orang-utan cries like a child in quite an uncanny manner, as a Dutch friend informed me. According to the Dayaks, it will wrest the spear from its attacker and use it on him. They also maintain, as stated elsewhere, that orang-utans, contrary to the generally accepted belief, are able to swim. Mr. B. Brouers, of Bandjermasin, has seen monkeys swim; the red, the gray, and the black are all capable of this, he said. From a reliable source I have the following story. Eight Malays who had made camp on a small promontory on the river, one morning were sitting about sunning themselves when they were surprised to see an orang-utan approaching. He entered their camp and one of the Malays nearest to him instinctively drew his parang. Doubtless regarding this as an unfriendly action, he seized one of the poles which formed the main framework of their shelter and pulled it up, breaking the rattan fastenings as if they were paper. The Malays now all attacked with their parangs, but the orang-utan, taking hold of the end of the pole, swept it from side to side with terrifying effect, and as the locality made it impossible to surround him, they all soon had to take to the water to save themselves. My informant, who had spent several years travelling in Southern Borneo buying rubber from the natives, told me that one day his prahu passed a big orang-utan sitting on the branch of a tree. The Malay paddlers shouted to it derisively, and the animal began to break off branches and hurled sticks at the prahu with astonishing force, making the Malays paddle off as fast as they could. The several points of similarity between man and highly developed monkeys are the cause of the amusing saying of the natives of Java: the monkeys can talk, but they don't want to, because they don't like to work. The controleur obligingly put the government's steam launch _Selatan_ at my disposal, which would take me to the kampong Sembulo on the lake of the same name, whence it was my intention to return eastward, marching partly overland. One evening in the middle of June we started. On entering the sea the small vessel rolled more and more; when the water came over the deck I put on my overcoat and lay down on top of the entrance to the cabin, which was below. The wind was blowing harder than it usually does on the coasts of Borneo, and in the early morning shallow waters, which assume a dirty red-brown colour long before reaching the mouths of the mud-laden rivers, rose into waves that became higher as we approached the wide entrance to the Pembuang River. The sea washed over the port side as if we were on a sailing-boat, but the water flowed out again through a number of small, oblong doors at the sides which opened and closed mechanically. The launch, which was built in Singapore, behaved well, but we had a good deal of cargo on deck as well as down in the cabin. Besides, the approach to Pembuang River is not without risks. The sand-bars can be passed only at one place, which is twelve or thirteen metres wide and, at low water, less than a metre deep. The route is at present marked out, but in bygone years many ships were wrecked here. As the sea became more shallow the yellow-crested waves of dirty water mixed with sand assumed an aspect of fury, and lying on my back I seemed to be tossed from one wave to another, while I listened with some apprehension to the melodious report of the man who took the depth of the water: "Fourteen káki" (feet)! Our boat drew only six feet of water; "Seven káki," he sang out, and immediately afterward, "Six káki!" Now we are "in for it," I thought. But a few seconds more and we successfully passed the dangerous bar, the waves actually lifting us over it. My two assistants had spent the time on top of the baggage and had been very seasick. We were all glad to arrive in the smooth waters of the river. The captain, with whom later I became well acquainted, was an excellent sailor, both he and the crew being Malays. It was the worst weather he had experienced in the two years he had been at Sampit. According to him, conditions in this part of Borneo may be even more stormy from August to November. In the Malay kampong, Pembuang, I procured a large pomelo, in Borneo called limao, a delicious juicy fruit of the citrus order, but light-pink inside and with little or no acidity. After the exertions of the night this, together with canned bacon, fried and boiled potatoes, furnished an ideal midday meal. Necessary repairs having been made to the engine, next day, on a charming, peaceful afternoon, we continued our trip up the river. An unusually large number of monkeys were seen on both sides, and the men sat on the railing, with their feet hanging outside, to look at them. The red, long-nosed variety did not retreat, but looked at us calmly from the branch where it sat; other species hurried off, making incredibly long leaps from branch to branch. Shortly after sunset we threw anchor. Lake Sembulo is about sixteen kilometres long by about one in width. The lake is entered suddenly, amid clumps of a big species of water plant which in season has long white odoriferous flowers. Very striking is the white bottom and the beaches consisting of gravel or sand. How far the sandy region extends I am unable to say, but Mr. Labohm, the chief forester, told me that in the Sampit River region northeast of here, and about twenty metres above the sea, he walked for two days on whitish sand, among rosaceae and azale, the forest being very thin. The comparatively clear water is slightly tinged with reddish brown on account of its connection with the Pembuang River, which has the usual colour of Bornean rivers. Low receding hills rise all around as we steam along, and the utan, which more or less covers the country, looks attractive, though at first the forests surrounding the ladangs of the Malays are partly defaced by dead trees, purposely killed by fire in order to gain more fields. After a couple of hours we arrived at kampong Sembulo, which has an alluring look when viewed from the lake, lying on a peninsula with handsome trees which mercifully hide most of the houses. The kapala of this Malay settlement, who came on board in a carefully laundered white cotton suit, had courteous manners. He kindly arranged for three prahus to take us and our belongings ashore. There was a diminutive pasang-grahan here, neatly made from nipah palm leaves, where I repaired, while Chonggat and Ah Sewey put up tents near by. The presence of two easy chairs which had been brought from Bandjermasin seemed incongruous to the surroundings, and had an irritating rather than restful effect on me. Both Malays and Dayaks are very desirous of securing European furniture for the house of the kapala, and will carry a chair or table for hundreds of miles. On the occasion of my visit to the Kenyah chief of Long Pelaban, in the Bulungan, he immediately went to a heap of baskets and other articles occupying one side of the big room, dug out a heavy table with marble top, which was lying overturned there, and proudly placed it upright before me to be admired. That this piece of furniture had been brought so great a distance over the kihams was almost incomprehensible. I had a talk with the kapala and a large number of people who soon gathered in front of the pasang-grahan. The Dayaks who originally lived here have disappeared or amalgamated with the Malay intruders, who in this case are largely composed of less desirable elements. It soon became evident that no information could be gained from these people in regard to the traditions of the place. One man said that if I would wait four or five days (in which to be exploited by the wily Malay) he would undertake to bring me three old men of the place, whereupon the kapala, who was more obliging than the rest, went to fetch one of these, who pretended to have no knowledge in such matters. In order to get relief from the increasing throng of men and boys, I went for a walk, in which I was joined by the kapala and the mantri, a small native police authority whom the controleur had sent with me to be of assistance in making arrangements with the Malays. An old-looking wooden mosque, twenty years old according to reports, stands at the turn of the road. Near by is a cemetery covered with a large growth of ferns and grass, which hides the ugly small monuments of the graves. The houses lie along a single street in the shade of cocoanut-palms and other trees. On account of the white sand that forms the ground everything looks clean, and the green foliage of handsome trees was superb. Everywhere silence reigned, for the women, being Mohammedans, remain as much as possible inside the houses, and no voice of playing or crying child was heard. On returning from our walk, near sunset, I asked the kapala how much I had to pay for the bringing ashore of my baggage. "Fifteen rupia" (florins) was the answer. As things go in Borneo this was an incredibly excessive charge, and as my intention was to go by boat to the Dayak kampong on the lake, and from there march overland to the small river, Kuala Sampit, I demanded to know how much then I would have to pay for twenty men that I needed for the journey. "Five rupia a day for each," he said. Dayaks, who are far more efficient and reliable, are satisfied with one rupia a day. Those near by protested that it was not too much, because in gathering rubber they made even more a day. At that rate it would have cost me a hundred florins a day, besides their food, with the prospects of having strikes for higher pay all the way, according to the Malay custom. Luckily the _Selatan_ had delayed its departure until next morning, so I was not yet at the mercy of the greedy natives. The kapala seemed to have as little influence with the people as the mantri, who plainly was afraid of them. I got a prahu and went out to the captain, who arranged to take us back next day, away from these inhospitable shores. At dusk he accompanied me ashore, and in a refreshingly courageous manner read them the text, telling them that I, who came recommended from the Governor-General, was entitled to consideration; that it was a disgrace to the Malay name to behave as they had done, etc. While I was eating my evening meal two long rows of men were sitting outside on the ground, watching the performance with close attention. Next morning the _Selatan's_ boat came to assist in bringing us on board again. After the captain's severe arraignment last night the mantri seemed to have spurred up his courage. He said that two rupia would be sufficient to pay for our luggage. I gave one ringit (f. 2.50), which the captain said was ample. The kapala, who had exerted himself to get our things on board again, thanked me for the visit and we steamed away, arriving safely in Sampit a couple of days later. CHAPTER XII THE WAR CHANGES MY PLANS--CHOLERA--UP THE GREAT BARITO RIVER--PURUK TJAHU-- DECIDE TO STAY AMONG THE MURUNGS--A DANCING FEAST In the beginning of July I returned to Bandjermasin, where I packed my collections and despatched them to Europe. I decided to send what goods I had, with my two assistants, to Macassar on Celebes, where the Dayaks who were to take part in the New Guinea undertaking would also be transported. It might be possible for Chonggat to do some collecting in the neighbourhood of the town. At all events, it would be more convenient to have them wait for me there than to take them to Java. Having secured passes from the resident for the two men, and given them recommendations to the Norwegian consul in Macassar, I departed for Batavia to take the last steps in fitting out my expedition to New Guinea. At this stage of my proceedings the war broke out. On August 6 I had an audience of the Governor-General, who informed me that he was then unable to let me have either soldiers or ship for my explorations. The day before he had recalled his own great expedition on the Mamberamo in Northern New Guinea, and advised me to wait for a more favourable opportunity, promising that he would later give me all assistance. The commanding general was equally agreeable. As I had never been in British India I decided to go there while awaiting developments regarding the war, so the following Saturday found me on my way to Singapore. Here I first arranged for the safe return of my two assistants, who had been left in Macassar, where cholera had broken out. Usually natives, who range under the category of labourers, go as deck-passengers on steamers in the East. Therefore, after I had bought second-class tickets for them, and the Dutch Packet Boat Company had courteously offered to have a man meet them on arrival, I felt satisfied that they would have no trouble in landing. I then continued my journey over Penang to Madras. In spite of the continuation of the war and the great fascination of India, in April, the following year, 1915, I decided to return to the Dutch Indies and undertake an expedition to Central Borneo, parts of which are unexplored and unknown to the outside world. Briefly, my plans were to start from Bandjermasin in the south, ascend the Barito River, and, branching hence into its northern tributary, the Busang, to cross the watershed to the Mahakam or Kutei River. Following the latter to its mouth I should reach the east coast near Samarinda. This journey, I found, would take me through a country where were some tribes never before studied. At Colombo I took the Dutch steamer _Grotius_, which gave me a very pleasant week. The Dutch are a kindly nation. There were fifteen children on first-class playing on deck, and I never heard them cry nor saw them fighting. After more than nine months' absence I again found myself in Batavia, and from there I went to Buitenzorg to ask an audience of the Governor-General. He offered to give me all assistance in furthering my project, and I had the pleasure of being invited to dine at the palace. A large open carriage, with quaint, old-fashioned lanterns, called for me. The coachman and footman were liveried Javanese. It was a beautiful, cool, starlit evening in the middle of June when we drove up the imposing avenue of banyan-trees which leads to the main entrance. The interior of the palace is cool and dignified in appearance, and the Javanese waiters in long, gold-embroidered liveries, whose nude feet passed silently over the marble floor, were in complete accord with the setting. Several weeks had to be spent in preparation for the trip. It was decided that in Borneo I should be furnished with a small escort. Further, Mr. J. Demmini, photographer in the well-known Topografische Dienst in Batavia, was attached to the expedition, as well as Mr. H.P. Loing, a native surveyor of the same institution. After much searching I finally found a man, Rajimin, a native of Batavia, who seemed competent to collect birds and animals. My kinematograph was out of order, but fortunately I succeeded in replacing it with a secondhand Pathé. The first week in August we departed from Tandjong Priok by steamer, bound for Bandjermasin, Borneo. On our arrival in Sourabaia we learned that cholera was prevalent in Bandjermasin, and our steamer carried serum for the doctors of the garrison there. Early in the morning we steamed up the river, viewing the usual scene of Malays bathing and children running out of the houses to see the steamer pass. The most urgent matter demanding attention was to have Rajimin, the taxidermist, vaccinated, as well as the two native boys I had brought from Batavia. There were nine deaths a day, but while it is unpleasant to be at a place where such an epidemic is raging, there is reassurance in the knowledge that the bacillus must enter through the mouth, and that therefore, with proper precautions, it is unnecessary for anybody to have cholera. A Dutch doctor in Sourabaia told me that he had been practising two years on the Barito River in Borneo, and had gone through a severe epidemic of cholera, but neither he nor his wife had been affected, although their native boy, while waiting at table, fell to the floor and in two hours expired. His wife disinfected plates, forks, spoons, and even the fruit, in a weak solution of permanganate of potassium. Of course there must be no alcoholic excesses. In the tropics it is also essential, for several reasons, always to boil the drinking water. The Dutch use an effective cholera essence, and if the remedy is applied immediately the chances for recovery from the attack are favourable. The lieutenant who accompanied me through Central Borneo told me that he saved the life of his wife by immediately initiating treatment internally as well as by bathing, without waiting for the doctor's arrival, for the attack occurred in the middle of the night. After three or four hours she was out of danger. One evening at the Bandjermasin hotel I was startled by seeing our three Javanese men taking a sudden and determined departure, carrying all their belongings. One of the hotel boys who occupied the room next to them had shown the well-known symptoms of cholera, whereupon they immediately decamped. I at once informed the manager, who gave the boy a dose of cholera essence, and an hour later he was better. The next morning he was still improving, and on the following day I saw him waiting at table. The resident, Mr. L.F.J. Rijckmans, was kind enough to order the government's good river steamer _Otto_ to take us up the Barito River to Puruk Tjahu, a distant township, where boats and men might be secured and where the garrison would supply me with a small escort. Toward the end of August we departed. On account of the shallow water the _Otto_ has a flat bottom and is propelled by a large wheel at the stern. We had 5,000 kilograms of provisions on board, chiefly rice and dried fish, all stored in tin cans carefully closed with solder. There were also numerous packages containing various necessary articles, the assorting of which would be more conveniently done in Puruk Tjahu. We also brought furniture for a new pasang-grahan in Muara Tewe, but the steamer could have taken much more. The evening of our departure was delightful, and a full moon shed its light over the utan and the river. I occupied a large round room on the upper deck, and felt both comfortable and happy at being "on the move" again. Anchoring at night, there are about five days' travel on the majestic river, passing now and then peaceful-looking kampongs where people live in touch with nature. A feeling of peace and contentment possessed me. "I do not think I shall miss even the newspapers," I find written in my diary. On approaching Muara Tewe we saw low mountains for the first time, and here the river becomes narrower and deeper, though even at the last-named place it is 350 metres wide. The water assumed a deeper reddish colour and was speckled with foam, indicating a certain amount of flood caused by rains higher up the river. We passed a family of wild pigs grubbing up the muddy beach in search of roots. There was a large dark one and a huge yellowish-white one, besides four young pigs dark in colour. At Muara Tewe, where we had to make a stay of two days, the doctor of the garrison said that in the case of the common species of wild pigs the full-grown ones are always light in hue. Doctor Tjon Akieh, who came here from Surinam, had some amusing monkeys, a native bear, tamer than most cats, and a very quiet deer. In a steam-launch he had gone four days up the Ajo River, a tributary to the Barito from the east, which passes between limestone cliffs. In that locality the Dayaks are rarely visited by Malays and therefore have retained their excellent tribal characteristics. The men are inclined to obesity. After leaving Muara Tewe we passed many small kampongs which were less attractive than those at the lower part of the river. The farther one proceeds the more inhabited are the banks. In this vicinity, eleven years previously, a violent Malay revolution which had lasted two years was finally suppressed. As usual, the revolt was headed by a pretender to the sultanate. The steamer in which we travelled was a reminder of those days, for it had two gun-mountings on its deck and my cabin, round in shape, was lightly armoured. Puruk Tjahu (puruk = small hill; tjahu = running out into the water) lies at a bend of the river in a somewhat hilly and quite attractive country, which is blessed with an agreeable climate and an apparent absence of mosquitoes. The captain in charge of the garrison told me that he, accompanied by the native kapala of the district, was going on a two months' journey northward, and at his invitation I decided to follow him as far as Sungei Paroi. I hoped that on my return a supply of films and plates, ordered from London and already overdue, might have arrived. It was, however, a very difficult proposition to have everything ready in three days, because it was necessary first to take out of my baggage what was needed for the journey. It meant the opening of 171 boxes and packages. Convicts were assigned to assist in opening and closing these, which afterward were taken to a storehouse, but as I had no mandur I alone had to do the fatiguing work of going through the contents. The doctor of the garrison kindly furnished me with knives and pincers for the taxidermist, as the collector's outfit was missing from the boxes that had been returned from Macassar. The _Otto_ needed only one and a half hours to run down stream to the Muara Laong, a Malay kampong at the mouth of the river Laong, which we intended to ascend by boats to the kampong Batu Boa, where the overland journey was to begin. As soon as we arrived in the afternoon the kapala was sent for to help in procuring a sufficient number of prahus for the next day. I brought twenty-nine coolies from Puruk Tjahu to serve as paddlers. The kapala was unable to find enough prahus, but it had grown dark, so we waited, hoping for better luck next day. In the morning search was continued, but no great results were obtained. The Malays evidently disliked to rent their boats, which were coming in but slowly. In the meantime our luggage was being unloaded to the landing-float. Mr. Demmini was able to secure some large prahus, among them a specially good one belonging to a Chinaman, and the goods were placed in them. At 11 A.M. all the baggage had been unloaded from the steamer, and having worked like a dog for the last few days I felt that I had earned twenty minutes for my usual bath, applying tepid water from a tin can, with rough mittens. According to the opinion of those best able to judge, bathing-water in the tropics should be of the same temperature as the body, or slightly lower. There are three important items in my personal outfit: A kettle in which drinking water is boiled, another (of a different colour) in which water for bathing is heated, and a five-gallon tin can which serves as a bathtub. Much refreshed from my bath, I felt ready for further action. In the morning I had requested the captain not to wait for me, and he had already left. At 12 o'clock the _Otto_ departed, and a few minutes later our flotilla was under way. We stayed over night at Biha, a small but clean Dayak kampong. The Murungs, as seen here for the first time, are rather shy, dark-complexioned, somewhat short and strongly set people. They are not ugly, though their mouths always seem ungainly. The next day we arrived at a Malay kampong, Muara Topu, which is less attractive on account of its lack of cleanliness and its pretense of being civilised. I soon realised that it would not be possible to overtake the captain, still less to proceed overland, as our men from Puruk Tjahu were rather a poor lot. They were Malays with the exception of three Dayaks, and one of these, an Ot-Danum, had accepted Islam and therefore had imbibed many Malay ideas. The majority of them were personally amiable, but physically, with few exceptions, they were even below the Malay average, having weak, ill-balanced bodies. I saw one man, when pushing his prahu, fall into the water twice, and the men in my prahu often nearly upset it. In view of these conditions I decided to stop over at the large kampong Tumbang Marowei. Something might be gained by a stay among the Murungs, and meantime the overdue photographic supplies, much needed for our inland expedition, would possibly arrive. The kampong created a pleasant impression, the space in front toward the river, which the Dayaks are compelled to clear and keep clean, being unusually extensive--almost approaching a boulevard on the river bank. Along this are four communal houses arranged lengthwise, in two pairs, and elevated on upright posts. Between the groups and farther back is a smaller house. There are areca-palms and other trees planted in front, and at the back the vast jungle begins immediately. Most of the people were absent, burning trees and bushes that had been cut down to make new fields for rice-planting, the so-called ladangs, but about sunset they returned, and all were quite friendly in their manners. We asked the kapala if he could have the people dance in order that we might photograph them, but he said that would not be possible unless a feast were made, a necessary part of which would be the sacrifice of a babi (pig), whereupon an agreement was easily reached that I should pay for the babi six florins, and that the Murungs should perform. The feast was held one day later and was more interesting than I had expected. It took place in front of the house where the kapala resided, and here a sacred pillar stood, by the Katingans and others called kapatong, erected on the occasion of a death. A striking feature in Dayak kampongs, especially in remote regions, is the presence of such upright pillars, carved more or less completely into human form and standing before the houses. These are invariably for the benefit of a dead person whom they guard, and if the deceased was well provided with earthly goods two or three are furnished. They are made of ironwood and often higher than a man, but usually only the upper part is actually worked into shape, though many instances are observed of smaller statues the entire surface of which is crudely carved. When a death occurs many duties are incumbent on the surviving relatives, one of the first being to make the kapatong, the soul of which waits on and guards the soul of the departed one. A good-sized domestic pig had been brought in dependent from a long pole about which its feet had been tied, and it was deposited at the base of the kapatong. One man held an upright stick between the legs of the animal, while another opened the artery of the neck with one thrust of his knife. The pig was next lifted up by the carrying-pole so that the blood might run into a vessel, which was handed to a man who climbed the kapatong and smeared blood on the image of a human being at the top. This indicated that the feast was for the benefit of the soul of that ironwood statue, because it is an invariable custom for the blood of a sacrificed animal to be smeared on the principals of any feast or ceremony, and this is also done when attempting to cure or ward off illness. The same custom obtains in the case of those about to be married; or, if children are to be named, if a move is made to a new home, blood is first daubed on the house. The pig was then carried a little farther away, where the space was more favourable for dancing, which soon began to our edification. It was the same type of dance that is universal among the Dayaks wherever I have been, although other varieties are seen in Borneo. This principal one consists of moving in a circle around the sacrificial offering, which is lying at the foot of an upright rod to the top of which a piece of cloth is tied, or at the base of a sacred jar (blanga). The participants join hands, and the movement is slow because an essential feature consists in bending the knees--heels together--down and up again, slowly and in time; then, moving one step to the left and bringing right heel to left, the kneeling is repeated, and so on. The men danced for a long time, at first by themselves, then the women by themselves, but most of the time the circle was made up of alternate men and women. The latter, most of them stocky and somewhat coarse-looking, danced with surprising excellence. Though children of nature may be without good looks, there is decided attraction in their grace and easy movements. It did not look difficult, so I joined in the dancing, as I have done many times among other races. Greatly to the amusement of the natives I demonstrated that I had caught the right steps, and then seated myself in a chair which was the pride of the kapala and which had been brought out for my benefit. While watching the performance I was surprised to see two of the women, about the only ones who possessed any charm of appearance, coming toward me, singing as they advanced. Each took me by a hand and, still singing, led me forward to the dancing circle, where a man who had been offering rice brandy to the people from a huge horn of the water-buffalo adorned with wood shavings, stepped forward and offered it to me. Lifting it I applied my face to the wide opening as if drinking. Twice I pretended to drink, and after participating a while longer in the activities I retired to my place of observation. No doubt the Dayaks had gladly acceded to my wishes in making the feast, because dancing and sacrifice are believed to attract good spirits which may be of assistance to them. In the evening there was a banquet with the pig as the pièce de résistance; and a young fowl was sent to me as a present. CHAPTER XIII DAYAK CURE OF DISEASE--EVIL SPIRITS AND GOOD--ANIMISM--BLIANS, THE PRIEST-DOCTORS--THE FEAST OF RUBBER-GATHERERS--WEDDINGS--IN PRIMITIVE SURROUNDINGS A day or two later the kapala, evidently solicitous about our comfort, asked permission to perform for three consecutive nights certain rites for the purpose of curing several sick persons. The reason for his request was that they might be noisy and prove disturbing to our rest. The ceremonies consisted in singing and beating drums for three hours, in order to attract good spirits and drive away the evil ones that had caused the illness. One of the patients, who had malaria, told me later that he had been cured by the nightly service, which had cost him forty florins to the doctor. Among the aborigines of Borneo whom I visited, with the possible exception of the Punan nomads, the belief in evil spirits and in good ones that counteract them, both called antoh, is universal, and to some extent has been adopted by the Malays. Though various tribes have their own designations (in the Duhoi (Ot-Danum) ùntu; Katingan, talúm; Kapuas, telún; Kahayan, kambae), still the name antoh is recognised throughout Dutch Borneo. Apprehension of evil being predominant in human minds, the word is enough to cause a shudder even to some Malays. There are many kinds of both evil and good antohs; some are male, some female, and they are invisible, like the wind, but have power to manifest themselves when they desire to do so. Though sometimes appearing as an animal or bird, an antoh usually assumes the shape of a man, though much larger than an ordinary human being. Caves in the mountains are favourite haunts of evil antohs. In the great rivers, like the Barito and the Katingan, are many of huge size, larger than those in the mountains. Trees, animals, and even all lifeless objects, are possessed by antohs good or bad. According to the Katingans the sun is a benevolent masculine antoh which sleeps at night. The moon is a feminine antoh, also beneficent. Stars are the children of the sun and moon--some good, some bad. To drive away malevolent antohs and attract benignant ones is the problem in the life philosophy of the Dayaks. The evil ones not only make him ill and cause his death, but they are at the bottom of all troubles in life. In order to attract the good ones sacrifices are made of a fowl, a pig, a water-buffalo, or, formerly, a slave. Hens' eggs may also be proffered, but usually as adjuncts to the sacrifice of an animal. If a child is ill the Katingan makes a vow that he will give Antoh from three to seven eggs or more if the child becomes well. If it fails to recover the offering is not made. The blood is the more precious part, which the Bahau of the Mahakam, and other tribes, offer plain as well as mixed with uncooked rice. The people eat the meat themselves, but some of it is offered to the well-disposed antoh and to the other one as well, for the Dayaks are determined to leave no stone unturned in their purpose of defeating the latter. The Duhoi (Ot-Danums) told me: "When fowl or babi are sacrificed we never forget to throw the blood and rice mixture toward the sun, moon, and 'three of the planets.'" With the Katingans the blian (priest-doctor) always drinks a little of the blood when an animal is sacrificed. Singing to the accompaniment of drums, gongs, or the blian's shield, and dancing to the sound of drums or gongs, are further inducements brought to bear on the friendly antohs, which are attracted thereby. According to the belief which prevails in their primitive minds, the music and dancing also have a deterrent effect upon the malicious ones. Both evil and good antohs are believed to congregate on such occasions, but the dancing and music have a terrifying effect on the former, while on the latter they act as an incentive to come nearer and take possession of the performers or of the beneficiary of the function by entering through the top of the head. A primitive jews'-harp, universally found among the tribes, is played to frighten away antohs, and so is the flute. A kindly antoh may enter a man and become his guardian spirit, to whom he occasionally offers food, but it never remains long because that would make the man insane. One must not step over a person, because a benevolent antoh that may be in possession is liable to be frightened away, say the Katingans and other Dayaks. In dancing with masks, which is much practised on the Mahakam, the idea is that the antoh of the animal represented by the mask enters the dancer through the top of his head. The Penihings and Long-Glats of the Mahakam have an interesting belief in the existence of a friendly antoh which reminded me of the superstition of the "Nokken" in the rivers of Norway. It lives in rivers, is very rarely beheld by mortals, and the one who sees it becomes rich beyond dreams of avarice. The Long-Glats call it sangiang, a survival of Hindu influence. An old man in Long Tujo is reported to have seen this antoh, and according to him it had the appearance of a woman sitting underneath the water. No doubt other tribes have the same belief. The most famous of antohs is the nagah, which may be good or evil, according to the treatment received from mortals, and being very powerful its help and protection are sought in a manner later to be described in connection with my travels on the Mahakam. The nagah guards underneath as well as above the surface of water and earth, but the air is protected by three birds which are messengers, or mail carriers, so to speak. They are able to call the good antoh and carry food to him; they are also attendants of man and watch over him and his food. Fowls and pigs are sacrificed to them as payment. They are--the tingang (hornbill), the sankuvai (formerly on earth but now only in heaven), and the antang (red hawk). As these birds are called by the same names in the tribes of the Katingans, Ot-Danums, Kahayans, and others, it may be presumed that their worship is widely prevalent in Borneo. Among most if not all native races certain persons occupy themselves with religious services and at the same time cure disease. In Borneo, as far as my experience goes, these priest-doctors, whether male or female, are generally recognised by the name blian, or balian. Although some tribes have their own and different designations, for the sake of convenience I shall call them all blians. While there are both male and female blians, the service of women is regarded as more valuable, therefore commands higher remuneration than that received by men. A Dayak explained to me: As there are two sexes among the antohs, so there are also male and female blians. He or she on occasion pretends to be possessed of helpful antohs, in some parts of Borneo called sangiangs. Besides assisting the blians in their work they enable them to give advice in regard to the future, illness, or the affairs of daily life. A blian may be possessed by as many as fifty good antohs, which do not remain long at a time. Although in the remote past men sometimes saw good or evil spirits, at present nobody is able to do so except blians, who also sing in a language that only they and the antohs understand. The blian does not know how to take omens from birds and read the liver of the pig. There may be one expert along this line in the kampong and there may be none. The blians of the tribes visited by me can neither make rain nor afflict people with illness. Among the Long-Glats I saw them directing the great triennial feast tàsa, at which they were the chief performers. The constant occupation of the blians, however, is to cure disease which is caused by a malicious antoh longing to eat human blood and desiring to drive away the human soul. When hungry an antoh makes somebody ill. The blian's rites, songs, dances, and sacrifices aim to induce a good antoh to chase away or kill the evil one which has taken possession of the patient, and thus make an opportunity for the frightened soul to return, which restores the man to health. This, without undue generalisation, is a short summary of the religious ideas which I found on the Mahakam and in Southern Borneo, more especially those of the Penihing, Katingan, and Murung. Further details will be found among descriptions of the different tribes. Shortly afterward we all made an excursion up the river as far as Batu Boa, which, as is often the case, contains a Dayak as well as a Malay kampong. At the first one, a forlorn and desolate looking place, the kapala, who had an unusually large goitre, told me that eighteen men had been engaged by the captain for his journey northward from there, which definitely precluded any prospect of ours for an overland expedition, even if under other conditions it would have been possible. As for the Malays, I found them rather distant, and was glad to return to Tumbang Marowei. Here a singular sight met us in a sculptured representation of a rhinoceros with a man on his back, entirely composed of red rubber, standing on a float and surrounded by a number of blocks made of the same material. White and red pieces of cloth tied to upright saplings on the float added a certain gaiety to the scene. Some of the kampong people had just returned from a rubber expedition, and part of the output had been cleverly turned into plastics in this way. The rhino was about seventy-five centimetres high, strong and burly looking, and the posture of the young man on his back conveyed a vivid suggestion of action. They were now on their way to sell this to some Chinaman. The image was said to be worth from two to three hundred florins, and as there was considerable additional rubber, perhaps all of it approached a value of a thousand florins. Bringing this rubber from up country had occupied eighteen days, and it was the result of ten men's work for two or three months. Twice before during the last two years rubber had been brought here in the same manner. First they considered it essential to make a feast for the badak (the Malay name for rhinoceros). When going out on their expedition they had promised to make a badak effigy if they found much rubber. As the man on its back represented the owner, there was the risk that one of the souls of the latter might enter his image, resulting in illness for the owner, to avoid which a pig would have to be killed and various ceremonies performed. The festival was scheduled to take place in three days, but it had to be postponed one day on account of difficulties in procuring the pig. I presented them with three tins of rice and another half full of sugar, which they wanted to mix with water to serve as drink because there was no rice brandy. It required some exertion to bring the heavy image from the float up to the open space in front of the house where the rubber gatherers lived, but this had been done a day or two before the feast, the statue in the meantime having been covered with white cotton cloth. Several metres of the same material had also been raised on poles to form a half enclosure around the main object. The feast had many features in common with the one we had seen, as, for instance, dancing, and a good deal of Malay influence was evident in the clothing of the participants, also in the setting. Nevertheless, the ceremonies, which lasted only about two hours, were not devoid of interest. The men, manifesting great spontaneity and enthusiasm, gathered quickly about and on the badak, and one of them took the rubber man by the hand. This was followed by pantomimic killing of the badak with a ceremonial spear as well as with parangs, which were struck against its neck. The man who was deputed to kill the pig with the spear missed the artery several times, and as blood was his first objective, he took no care to finish the unfortunate animal, which was still gasping fifteen minutes later. An old woman then appeared on the scene who waved a bunch of five hens, to be sacrificed, whirling them over and among the performers who were then sitting or standing. The hens were killed in the usual way by cutting the artery of the neck, holding them until blood had been collected, and then leaving them to flap about on the ground until dead. Blood was now smeared on the foreheads of the principal participants, and a young woman danced a graceful solo. Having ascertained, by sending to the kampong below, that I could obtain twenty men with prahus whenever I intended to move, I discharged with cheerful willingness most of the Puruk Tjahu Malays. Their departure was a relief also to the Murungs, who feared to be exploited by the Malays. As soon as the latter had departed in the morning, many Dayaks whom I had not seen before ventured to come up to the kitchen and my tent to ask for empty tin cans. The Malays had slept in the Dayak houses, and the last night one of them carried off the mat which had been hospitably offered him. One day there were two weddings here, one in the morning and the other in the evening. A cloth was spread over two big gongs, which were standing close together on the floor and formed seats for the bride and bridegroom. She seemed to be about sixteen years old, and laughed heartily and frequently during the ceremony, which occupied but a few minutes. A man waved a young live hen over and around them, then went away and killed it in the usual manner, returning with the blood, which, with the help of a stick, he smeared on the forehead, chest, neck, hands, and feet of the bridal pair, following which the two mutually daubed each other's foreheads. The principal business connected with marriage had previously been arranged--that of settling how much the prospective bridegroom was to pay to the bride's parents. With most tribes visited I found the adjustment of the financial matter conclusive in itself without further ceremonies. The officiating blian took hold of a hand of each, pulled them from their seats, and whisked them off as if to say: "Now you can go--you are married!" Outside the full moon bathed the country in the effulgence of its light, but being quite in zenith it looked rather small as it hung in the tropical sky. The moist heat in the latter part of September and first half of October was more oppressive here than I experienced anywhere else in Borneo. When for a few days there was no rain the temperature was uncomfortable, though hardly rising above 90° F. As there was no wind Rajimin's skins would not dry and many spoiled. Flies, gnats, and other pests were troublesome and made it difficult even to take a bath. Itching was produced on the lower part of the legs, which if scratched would become sores that usually took weeks to heal, and though the application of iodine was of some avail, the wounds would often suppurate, and I have myself at times had fever as a result. The best remedy for these and like injuries on the legs is a compress, or wet bandage, covered with oiled silk, which is a real blessing in the tropics and the material for which any traveller is well advised in adding to his outfit. Rain with the resultant cooling of the atmosphere seldom waited long, however, and when the river rose to within a metre of my tent, which I had pitched on the edge of the river bank, I had to abandon it temporarily for the house in which Mr. Demmini and Mr. Loing resided, a little back of the rest of the houses. Besides a kitchen, it contained a large room and a small one, which I appropriated. This house, which was five generations old and belonged to the brother of the kapala, had in its centre an upright pillar carved at the top which passed through the floor without reaching the roof. The house, as is the universal custom in Borneo, stands on piles, and in erecting it a slave who, according to ancient custom, was sacrificed, in that way to insure good luck, had been buried alive underneath the central post, which was more substantial than the others. During rain it is conducive to a sense of comfort and security to be safely roofed and sheltered in a house, but usually I preferred my tent, and occupied it unless the river was too threatening. From the trees in its close proximity a species of small frog gave concerts every evening, and also occasionally favoured me with a visit. One morning they had left in my quarters a cluster of eggs as large as a fist, of a grey frothy matter, which the ants soon attacked and which later was eaten by the hens. The fowls, coarse, powerful specimens of the poultry tribe, were a source of great annoyance on account of their number and audacity. As usual among the Malays, from whom the Dayaks originally acquired these domestic birds, interest centres in the males on account of the prevalent cock-fights, and the hens are in a very decided minority. For the night the feathered tribe settles on top of the houses or in the surrounding trees. Hens with small chickens are gathered together in the evening by the clever hands of the Dayak women, hen and brood being put into an incredibly small wicker bag, which is hung up on the gallery for the night. Otherwise carnivorous animals, prowling about, would make short work of them. At dawn, having duly saluted the coming day, the numerous cocks descend from their high roosts and immediately begin their favourite sport of chasing the few females about. The crowing of these poorly bred but very powerful males creates pandemonium for a couple of hours, and it is like living in a poultry yard with nearly fifty brutal cocks crowing around one. During the remainder of the day sudden raids upon kitchen or tent by one or more of these cocks are of frequent occurrence, usually overturning or otherwise damaging something. Although repeatedly and easily frightened away, they return as soon as they see that the coast is clear again. This is the one nuisance to be encountered in all the kampongs, though rarely to the same extent as here. CHAPTER XIV THE SCALY ANT-EATER--THE PORCUPINE--THE BLOW-PIPE--AN UNUSUAL ADVENTURE WITH A SNAKE--HABITS AND CUSTOMS OF THE MURUNGS--AN UNPLEASANT AFFAIR A Murung one day brought and exhibited to us that extraordinary animal, the scaly ant-eater (_manis_), which is provided with a long pipe-like snout, and is devoid of teeth because its only food, the ant, is gathered by means of its long tongue. The big scales that cover the whole body form its sole defence, and when it rolls itself up the dogs can do it no harm. Unable to run, it cannot even walk fast, and the long tail is held straight out without touching the ground. Its appearance directs one's thoughts back to the monsters of prehistoric times, and the fat meat is highly esteemed by the Dayaks. The animal, which is possessed of incredible strength in proportion to its size, was put in a box from which it escaped in the night through the carelessness of Rajimin. A large live porcupine was also brought for sale by a Dayak woman who had raised it. The creature was confined in a kind of bag, and by means of its strength it managed to escape from between the hands of the owner. Although she and several Dayaks immediately started in pursuit, it succeeded in eluding them. However, the woman believed implicitly that it would return, and a couple of days later it did reappear, passing my tent at dusk. Every evening afterward about eight o'clock it was a regular visitor, taking food out of my hand and then continuing its trip to the kitchen, which was less than a hundred metres farther up the river bank. Finally it became a nuisance, turning over saucepans to look for food and otherwise annoying us, so I bought it for one ringit in order to have it skinned. The difficulty was to catch it, because its quills are long and sharp; but next evening the Murungs brought it to me enmeshed in a strong net, and how to kill it was the next question. The Dayaks at once proposed to shoot it with the sumpitan--a very good scheme, though I fancied that darkness might interfere. However, in the light of my hurricane lamp one man squatted on the ground and held the animal, placing it in a half upright position before him. The executioner stepped back about six metres, a distance that I thought unnecessary, considering that if the poisoned dart hit the hand of the man it would be a most serious affair. He put the blow-pipe to his mouth and after a few moments the deadly dart entered the porcupine at one side of the neck. The animal, which almost at once began to quiver, was freed from the entangling net, then suddenly started to run round in a small circle, fell on his back, and was dead in less than a minute after being hit. It was a wonderful exhibition of the efficiency of the sumpitan and of the accuracy of aim of the man who used the long heavy tube. The pipe, two metres long, is held by the native with his hands close to the mouth, quite contrary to the method we should naturally adopt. The man who coolly held the porcupine might not have been killed if wounded, because the quantity of poison used is less in the case of small game than large. The poison is prepared from the sap of the upas tree, _antiaris toxicaria_, which is heated until it becomes a dark paste. It is a fortunate fact that these extremely efficient weapons, which noiselessly bring down birds and monkeys from great heights, are not widely distributed over the globe. If one is hit by the dart which is used when destined for man or big game, and which has a triangular point, it is said that no remedy will avail. Rajimin, the taxidermist, had frequent attacks of malaria with high fever, but fortunately he usually recovered rapidly. One day I found him skinning birds with his pulse registering one hundred and twenty-five beats a minute. I engaged a Murung to assist in making my zoological collections, and he learned to skin well and carefully, though slowly. Judging from the number of long-nosed monkeys brought in, they must be numerous here. These animals are at times met in droves of a hundred or more passing from branch to branch through the woods. When old they cannot climb. One morning this Dayak returned with three wah-wahs, and related that after the mother had been shot and had fallen from the tree, the father seized the young one and tried to escape, but they were both killed by the same charge. On account of adverse weather conditions most of the skins here spoiled, in some degree at least, in spite of all efforts, especially the fleshy noses of the long-nosed monkeys. A special brand of taxidermist's soap from London, which contained several substitutes for arsenic and claimed to be equally efficient, may have been at fault in part, though not entirely, the main cause being the moist heat and the almost entire lack of motility in the air. So little accustomed to wind do the natives here appear to be that a small boy one day jubilantly drew attention to some ripples in the middle of the river caused by an air current. My Malay cook was taken ill, so I had to do most of the cooking myself, which is not particularly pleasant when one's time is valuable; and when he got well his lack of experience rendered it necessary for me to oversee his culinary operations. One day after returning to my tent from such supervision I had a curious adventure with a snake. It was a warm day about half past one. All was quiet and not a blade stirred. I paused near the tent opening, with my face toward the opposite side of the river, which could be seen through an opening among the trees. Standing motionless on the bank, which from there sloped gradually down toward the river, more than a minute had elapsed when my attention was distracted by a slight noise behind me. Looking to the right and backward my surprise was great to perceive the tail-end of a black snake rapidly proceeding toward the left. Hastily turning my eyes in that direction I beheld the well-shaped, powerful, though somewhat slender, forward part of the serpent, which, holding its head high, almost to the height of my knee, made downward toward the river. In passing over the open space along the river bank it had found its path obstructed by some boxes, etc., that were in front of the tent opening, and had suddenly changed its route, not noticing me, as I stood there immovable. It thus formed a right angle about me scarcely twenty-five centimetres distant. At first glance its shape suggested the redoubtable king cobra, but two very conspicuous yellow parallel bands running obliquely against each other across the flat, unusually broad head, indicated another species, though probably of the same family. The formidable head on its narrow neck moved rapidly from side to side; I felt as if surrounded, and although the reptile evidently had no hostile intentions and appeared as much surprised as I was, still, even to a nature lover, our proximity was too close to be entirely agreeable, so I stepped back over the snake. In doing so my foot encountered the kettle that contained my bathing water, and the noise probably alarmed the serpent, which rapidly glided down the little embankment, where it soon reached the grass next to the river and disappeared. It was a magnificent sight to watch the reptile, about two and a half metres in length, jet black and perfectly formed, moving swiftly among the trees. The Malays call this snake, whose venom is deadly, ular hanjalivan, and according to the Murungs a full-grown man dies within half an hour from its bite. This species appears to be fairly numerous here. At times the natives here showed no disinclination to being photographed, but they wanted wang (money) for posing. Usually I had to pay one florin to each, or fifty cents if the hair was not long. At other times nothing would induce them to submit to the camera. A young woman recently married had a row with her husband one night, and the affair became very boisterous, when suddenly they came to terms. The trouble arose through her desire to earn some pin-money by being photographed in the act of climbing an areca palm, a proceeding which did not meet with his approval. There were three female blians in the kampong whom I desired to photograph as they performed the dances connected with their office, but the compensation they demanded was so exorbitant (two hundred florins in cash and nine tins of rice) that we did not reach an agreement. Later in the day they reduced their demand to thirty florins for a pig to be used at the dancing, which proposition I also declined, the amount named being at least six times the value of the animal, but I was more fortunate in my dealings with the two male blians of the place, one of them a Dusun, and succeeded in inducing them to dance for me one forenoon. The two men wore short sarongs around their loins, the women's dress, though somewhat shorter; otherwise they were nude except for bands, to which numerous small metal rattles were attached, running over either shoulder and diagonally across chest and back. After a preliminary trial, during which one of them danced with much élan, he said: "I felt a spirit come down in my body. This will go well." The music was provided by two men who sat upon long drums and beat them with fervour and abandon. The dance was a spirited movement forward and backward with peculiar steps accompanied by the swaying of the body. The evolutions of the two dancers were slightly different. In October a patrouille of seventeen native soldiers and nine native convicts, under command of a lieutenant, passed through the kampong. In the same month in 1907 a patrouille had been killed here by the Murungs. It must be admitted that the Dayaks had reason to be aggrieved against the lieutenant, who had sent two Malays from Tumbang Topu to bring to him the kapala's attractive wife--an order which was obeyed with a tragic sequence. The following night, which the military contingent passed at the kampong of the outraged kapala, the lieutenant and thirteen soldiers were killed. Of course the Dayaks had to be punished; the government, however, took the provocation into account. The kapala's wife and a female companion demanded two florins each for telling folklore, whereupon I expressed a wish first to hear what they were able to tell. The companion insisted on the money first, but the kapala's wife, who was a very nice woman, began to sing, her friend frequently joining in the song. This was the initial prayer, without which there could be no story-telling. She was a blian, and her way of relating legends was to delineate stories in song form, she informed me. As there was nobody to interpret I was reluctantly compelled to dispense with her demonstration, although I had found it interesting to watch the strange expression of her eyes as she sang and the trance-like appearance she maintained. Another noticeable fact was the intense attachment of her dogs, which centred their eyes constantly upon her and accompanied her movements with strange guttural sounds. With the Murungs, six teeth in the upper front jaw and six in the under one are filed off, and there is no pain associated with the operation. The kapala had had his teeth cut three times, first as a boy, then when he had one child, and again when he had four children. The teeth of one of the blians had been filed twice, once when he was a boy and again when he had two children. If a man has the means he is free to take four wives, who may all be sisters if he so desires. As to the number of wives a man is allowed to acquire, no exception is made in regard to the kapala. A brother is permitted to marry his sister, and my informant said that the children resulting from this union are strong; but, on the other hand, it is forbidden for cousins to marry, and a still worse offence is for a man to marry the mother of his wife or the sister of one's father or mother. If that transgression has been committed the culprit must pay from one to two hundred rupias, or if he cannot pay he must be killed with parang or klevang (long knife). The children of such union are believed to become weak. When twelve years of age girls are regarded as marriageable, and sexual relations are absolutely free until marriage; in fact, if she chooses to have a young man share her mat it is considered by no means improper. If a girl should be left with child and the father cannot be found she is married to somebody else, though no man is forced to wed her. Marriage relations are very strict and heavy fines are imposed on people at fault, but divorces may be had provided payment is made, and a widow may remarry if she desires to do so. When a person dies there is much wailing, and if the deceased is a father or mother people of the same house do not sleep for three days. The corpse remains in the house three days, during which time a root called javau is eaten instead of rice, babi and bananas being also permissible. The body is washed and wrapped in white cotton cloth, bought from Malay traders, and placed in a coffin made of iron-wood. As the coffin must not be carried through the door, the house wall is broken open for it to pass on its way to a cemetery in the utan. Sometimes as soon as one year afterward, but usually much later, the coffin is opened, the bones are cleaned with water and soap and placed in a new box of the same material or in a gutshi, an earthen jar bought from the Chinese. The box or jar is then deposited in a subterranean chamber made of iron-wood, called kobur by both Malays and Murungs, where in addition are left the personal effects of the deceased,--clothing, beads, and other ornaments,--and, if a man, also his sumpitan, parang, axe, etc. This disposition of the bones is accompanied by a very elaborate feast, generally called tiwah, to the preparation of which much time is devoted. According to a conception which is more or less general among the Dayaks, conditions surrounding the final home of the departed soul are on the whole similar to those existing here, but before the tiwah feast has been observed the soul is compelled to roam about in the jungle three or four years, or longer, until that event takes place. This elaborate ceremony is offered by surviving relatives as an equivalent for whatever was left behind by the deceased, whose ghost is regarded with apprehension. Fortunately the Murungs were then preparing for such an observance at the Bundang kampong higher up the river where I intended to visit. They were making ready to dispose of the remains of no less a personage than the mother of our kapala. A water-buffalo would be killed and the festival would last for a week. In three years there would be another festal occasion of two weeks' duration, at which a water-buffalo would again be sacrificed, and when a second period of three years has elapsed the final celebration of three weeks' duration will be given, with the same sacrificial offering. Thus the occasions are seen to be of increasing magnitude and the expenses in this case to be on a rising scale. It was comparatively a small affair. About a month later, when I stopped at Buntok, on the Barito, the controleur of the district told me that an unusually great tiwah feast had just been concluded in the neighbourhood. He had spent ten days there, the Dayaks having erected a house for him to stay in. More than two hundred pigs and nineteen water-buffaloes had been killed. Over three hundred bodies, or rather remains of bodies, had previously been exhumed and placed in forty boxes, for the accommodation of which a special house had been constructed. These, with contents, were burned and the remains deposited in ten receptacles made of iron-wood, those belonging to one family being put in the same container. Some of the Dayaks were much preoccupied with preparations for the Bundang ceremony, which was postponed again and again. They encouraged me to participate in the festivities, representing it as a wonderful affair. I presented them with money to buy a sack of rice for the coming occasion, and some of them went at once to Puruk Tjahu to purchase it. Having overcome the usual difficulties in regard to getting prahus and men, and Mr. Demmini having recovered from a week's illness, I was finally, early in November, able to move on. Several people from our kampong went the same day, and it looked as if the feast were really about to take place. We proceeded with uneventful rapidity up-stream on a lovely day, warm but not oppressively so, and in the afternoon arrived at Bundang, which is a pleasant little kampong. The Dayaks here have three small houses and the Malays have five still smaller. A big water-buffalo, which had been brought from far away to be sacrificed at the coming ceremonial, was grazing in a small field near by. The surrounding scenery was attractive, having in the background a jungle-clad mountain some distance away, which was called by the same name as the kampong, and which, in the clear air against the blue sky, completed a charming picture. We found a primitive, tiny pasang-grahan, inconveniently small for more than one person, and there was hardly space on which to erect my tent. There appeared to be more Siangs than Murungs here, the former, who are neighbours and evidently allied to the latter, occupying the inland to the north of the great rivers on which the Murungs are chiefly settled, part of the Barito and the Laong. They were shy, friendly natives, and distinguished by well-grown mustaches, an appendage I also later noted among the Upper Katingans. The people told me that I might photograph the arrangements incident to the feast as much as I desired, and also promised to furnish prahus and men when I wished to leave. The following day Mr. Demmini seemed worse than before, being unable to sleep and without appetite. The festival was to begin in two days, but much to my regret there seemed nothing else to do but to return to Puruk Tjahu. The Dayaks proposed to take the sick man there if I would remain, but he protested against this, and I decided that we should all leave the following day. In the evening I attended the dancing of the Dayak women around an artificial tree made up of bamboo stalks and branches so as to form a very thick trunk. The dancing at the tiwa feast, or connected with it, is of a different character and meaning from the general performance which is to attract good antohs. This one is meant to give pleasure to the departed soul. The scene was inside one of the houses, and fourteen or fifteen different dances were performed, one of them obscene, but presented and accepted with the same seriousness as the other varieties. Some small girls danced extraordinarily well, and their movements were fairylike in unaffected grace. Enjoying the very pleasant air after the night's rain, we travelled rapidly down-stream on the swollen river to Tumbang Marowei, where we spent the night. There were twenty men from the kampong eager to accompany me on my further journey, but they were swayed to and fro according to the dictates of the kapala, who was resolutely opposed to letting other kampongs obtain possession of us. He wanted to reserve for himself and the kampong the advantages accruing from our need of prahus and men. To his chagrin, in the morning there arrived a large prahu with four Murungs from Batu Boa, who also wanted a chance at this bonanza, whereupon the kapala began to develop schemes to harass us and to compel me to pay more. Without any reason whatsoever, he said that only ten of the twenty men I had engaged would be able to go. This did not frighten me much, as the river was swollen and the current strong, so that one man in each of our prahus would be sufficient to allow us to drift down to the nearest Malay kampong, where I had been promised men some time before. At first I was quite concerned about the loading of the prahus, as the natives all exhibited a marked disinclination to work, the kapala, as a matter of fact, having ordered a strike. However, with the ten men allowed I was able by degrees to bring all our goods down to the river bank, whereupon the kapala, seeing that I was not to be intimidated, permitted the rest of the men to proceed. It was an unpleasant affair, which was aggravated by what followed, and was utterly at variance with my other experiences during two years among the Dayaks. I was greatly surprised to observe that some of the men who had been loitering near our goods on the bank of the river had begun to carry off a number of large empty tins which had been placed there ready for shipment. These are difficult to procure, and being very necessary for conveying rice, salt, and other things, I had declined to give them away. The natives had always been welcome to the small tin cans, also greatly in favour with them. Milk and jam tins are especially in demand, and after they have been thrown away the Dayaks invariably ask if they may have them. As they are very dexterous in wood-work they make nicely carved wooden covers for the tins, in which to keep tobacco or other articles. Returning from one of many tours I had made back to the house from where our belongings were taken, I caught sight of three Murungs running as fast as they could, each carrying two large tins, the kapala calmly looking on. I told him that unless they were immediately returned I should report the matter to the government. This had the desired effect, and at his order no less than sixteen large tins were promptly produced. This was surprising, but as a faithful chronicler of things Bornean I feel obliged to tell the incident, the explanation of which to a great extent is the fact that the natives here have been too susceptible to the demoralising Malay influence which has overcome their natural scruples about stealing. It must be admitted that the Dayaks wherever I have been are fond of wang (money), and they are inclined to charge high prices for the articles they are asked to sell. They have, if you like, a childish greed, which, however, is curbed by the influence of their religious belief before it has carried them to the point of stealing. Under continued Malay influence the innate longing for the possession of things very much desired overwhelms them and conquers their scruples. We afterward discovered that several things were missing, of no great importance except a round black tin case containing thermometers and small instruments, which without doubt had been appropriated by the owner of the house where we had been staying. Two or three weeks previously he had begged me to let him have it, as he liked it much and needed it. I said that was impossible, but evidently he thought otherwise. Perhaps the Murungs are more avaricious than other tribes. I was told in Puruk Tjahu that they were greedy, and it seems also as if their scruples about stealing are less acute than elsewhere in Borneo. The reputation of the Dayaks for honesty is great among all who know them. As far as my knowledge goes the Murungs are mild-mannered and polite, but not particularly intelligent. The higher-class people, however, are intelligent and alert, manifesting firmness and strength of mind. It was one o'clock before we were able to start, but circumstances favoured us, and after dark we reached the kampong at the mouth of the Laong River, where we made ourselves quite comfortable on the landing float, and I rejoiced at our recent escape from an unpleasant situation. The following day we arrived at Puruk Tjahu. After a few days' stay it was found expedient to return to Bandjermasin before starting on the proposed expedition through Central Borneo. A small steamer belonging to the Royal Packet Boat Company maintains fortnightly connections between the two places, and it takes only a little over two days to go down-stream. CHAPTER XV FINAL START FOR CENTRAL BORNEO--CHRISTMAS TIME--EXTENT OF MALAY INFLUENCE--THE FLOWERS OF EQUATORIAL REGIONS--AT AN OT-DANUM KAMPONG--THE PICTURESQUE KIHAMS, OR RAPIDS--FORMIDABLE OBSTACLES TO TRAVEL--MALAYS ON STRIKE Having arranged various matters connected with the expedition, in the beginning of December we made our final start from Bandjermasin in the _Otto_, which the resident again courteously placed at my disposal. Our party was augmented by a military escort, under command of Onder-Lieutenant J. Van Dijl, consisting of one Javanese sergeant and six native soldiers, most of them Javanese. At midday the surface of the water was absolutely without a ripple, and the broad expanse of the river, ever winding in large curves, reflected the sky and the low jungle on either side with bewildering faithfulness. At night the stars were reflected in the water in the same extraordinary way. In order to investigate a report from an otherwise reliable source about Dayaks "as white as Europeans, with coarse brown hair, and children with blue eyes," I made a stop at Rubea, two or three hours below Muara Tewe. It was a small and sad-looking kampong of thirteen families in many houses. Several children were seen, a little lighter of colour than usual, but their eyes were brown, and there was nothing specially remarkable about them nor the rest of the people whom the kapala called from the ladangs. Children lighter than the parents is a usual phenomenon in black and brown races. There was, however, one four-year-old boy conspicuous for his light hair and general blondness, who was different from the ordinary Dayak in frame and some of his movements; he was coarsely built, with thick limbs, big square head, and hands and feet strikingly large. There could be no doubt about his being a half-breed, neither face nor expression being Dayak. One hare-lipped woman and a child born blind were observed here. Other kampongs in the inland neighbourhood, mentioned in the same report, were not visited. On our arrival at Puruk Tjahu the low water at first made it doubtful whether the _Otto_ would be able to proceed further, but during the night it rose five metres, continued rising, and changed into a swollen river, as in springtime, carrying sticks and logs on its dirty reddish waters. After a foggy morning the sun came out and we had an enchanting day's journey, the movement of the ship producing a soft breeze of balmy air after the rainy night and morning. We passed a timber float stranded on high ground, with Malay men, women, and children who had been living there for weeks, waiting for the water to rise again as high as where it had left them. They evidently enjoyed the unusual sight of the steamer, and followed us attentively. In the afternoon we arrived at Poru, a small, oppressively warm kampong, deserted but for an old man and one family, the others having gone to gather rattan in the utan. This was to be our starting-point, where our baggage would have to be put in convenient shape for travel in boat and overland, and where we hoped it might be possible to buy prahus and obtain men by searching the kampongs higher up the river. In this we were disappointed, so the lieutenant went back to Puruk Tjahu, in the neighbourhood of which are many kampongs, nearly all Malay, there as well as here. He took with him one soldier who had proved to have an obnoxious disease, leaving us with five for the expedition, which we deemed sufficient. On Christmas day I bought from an old Dayak a large, ripe fruit called in Malay nangca (_artocarpus integrifolia_) of the jack fruit family. It is very common. Before maturing it is used as an every-day vegetable, which is boiled before eating. I was surprised to find that when fully ripe this fruit has an agreeable flavour of banana, but its contents being sticky it is difficult to eat. The sergeant, with the culinary ability of the Javanese, prepared for the holiday a kind of stew, called sambil goreng, which is made on the same principle as the Mexican variety, but decidedly superior. Besides the meat or fish, or whatever is used as the foundation, it contains eight ingredients and condiments, all indigenous except red pepper and onions. In the ladangs is cultivated the maize plant, which just then was in condition to provide us with the coveted green corn, and carried my thoughts to America, whence the plant came. Maize is raised on a very limited scale, and, strange to say, higher up the river the season was already over. At Poru we tried in vain to secure a kind of gibbon that we heard almost daily on the other side of the river, emitting a loud cry but different from that of the ordinary wah-wah. Rajimin described it as being white about the head and having a pronounced kind of topknot. As far as we had advanced up the Barito River, Malay influence was found to be supreme. The majority of the kampongs are peopled by Malays, Dayaks at times living in a separate section. This relation may continue at the lower courses of the tributaries, yielding to a Dayak population at the upper portions. In the kampongs, from our present camp, Poru, up to the Busang tributary, the population continues to be subject to strong Malay influence, the native tribes gradually relinquishing their customs, beliefs, and vernacular. But back from the river on either side the Dayak still easily holds his own. The old kapala of Poru had an attractive eight-year-old granddaughter, of a singularly active and enterprising disposition, who always accompanied him. He called my attention to the fact that she wore a solid-looking gold bracelet around each wrist, a product of the country. In the dry season when the river is low two or three hundred Dayaks and Malays gather here to wash gold, coming even as far as from Muara Tewe. The gold mixed with silver is made into bracelets, wristlets, or breastplates by these natives. The lieutenant had been unable to secure more than sixteen men, all Malays, which was insufficient for the six prahus we had bought. Therefore it became necessary to travel in relays, the lieutenant waiting in Poru until our men and prahus should return from Telok Djulo, for which kampong the rest of us started in late December. After considerable rain the river was high but navigable, and two days' travel brought us to a rather attractive kampong situated on a ridge. Rajimin accompanied by Longko, the principal one of our Malays, went out in the evening to hunt deer, employing the approved Bornean method. With a lamp in the bow the prahu is paddled noiselessly along the river near the bank. Rusa, as a large species of deer are called, come to the water, and instead of being frightened are attracted by the light. Rajimin, who was of an emotional and nervous temperament, missed two plandoks and one rusa, Longko reported, and when he actually killed a rusa he became so excited that he upset the prahu. We started before seven o'clock on a glorious morning, January first. On the river bank some trees, which did not appear to me to be indigenous, were covered with lovely flowers resembling hibiscus, some scarlet, some yellow. I had my men gather a small bunch, which for several hours proved attractive in the prosaic Malay prahu. The equatorial regions have not the abundance of beautiful flowers that is credited to them by popular belief. The graceful pitcher-plants (_nepenthes_) are wonderful and so are many other extraordinary plant creations here, but they cannot be classed as beautiful flowers in the common acceptation of the word. There are superb flowers in Borneo, among them the finest in existence, orchids, begonias, etc., but on account of the character of their habitats, within a dense jungle, it is generally difficult to see them. The vast majority of orchids are small and inconspicuous, and in hunting for magnificent ones the best plan is to take natives along who will climb or cut down the trees on which they grow. On the third day the river had become narrow and shallower, and early in the afternoon we arrived at Telok Djulo, a kampong of Ot-Danums interspersed with Malays. It is composed of many houses, forming one side of an irregular street, all surrounded with a low fence for the purpose of keeping pigs out. The storehouses recalled those of the Bulungan, with their wide wooden rings around the tops of the supporting pillars, to prevent mice from ascending. Outside of the fence near the jungle two water-buffaloes were always to be seen in the forenoon lying in a mud-pool; these we were warned against as being dangerous. These Dayaks, who are shy but very friendly, are said to have immigrated here over thirty years ago. They are mostly of medium size, the women stocky, with thick ankles, though otherwise their figures are quite good. The Ot-Danum men, like the Murungs, Siangs, and Katingans, place conspicuously on the calf of the leg a large tatu mark representing the full moon. When preparing to be photographed, men, women, and children decorate their chests with crudely made gold plates shaped nearly like a half moon and hanging one above another, generally five in number. One of the blians was a Malay. Here we had to stay two weeks, while the remainder of our baggage was being brought up and until a new station for storing goods had been established in the jungle higher up the river. Rajimin had an attack of dysentery, and although his health improved he requested permission to return, which I readily granted notwithstanding his undeniable ability in skinning birds. He was afraid of the kihams, not a good shot, and so liable to lose his way in the jungle that I always had to have a Dayak accompany him. It is the drawback with all Javanese that, being unaccustomed to these great jungles, at first they easily get lost. Rajimin joined a few Malays in building a small float, on which they went down the river. Several Malays aspired to succeed him as taxidermist, but showed no aptitude. I then taught one of our Javanese soldiers who had expressed interest in the matter. Being painstaking and also a good shot, the new tokang burong (master of birds), the Malay designation for a taxidermist, gave satisfactory results in due time. One day while I was taking anthropometric measurements, to which the Ot-Danums grudgingly submitted, one of them exhibited unusual agitation and actually wept. Inquiring the reason, I learned that his wife had jilted him for a Kapuas Dayak who, a couple of nights previously, when the injured man was out hunting wild pigs for me, had taken advantage of the husband's absence. Moreover, the night before, the rival had usurped his place a second time, compelling the husband to go elsewhere. The incident showed how Dayak ideas were yielding to Malay influence. He was in despair about it, and threatened to kill the intruder as well as himself, so I told the sergeant to strengthen the hands of the kapala. I could not prevent the woman's disloyalty to her husband, but the new attraction should not be allowed to stay in the house. This had the effect of making the intruder depart a few minutes later, though he did not go far away. The affair was settled in a most unexpected manner. The kapala being absent, his substitute, _bonhomme mais borné_, and probably influenced by her relatives, decided that the injured husband must pay damages f. 40 because he had vacated his room the night he went out hunting. We procured one more prahu, but the difficulties of getting more men were very great, one reason being that the people had already begun to cut paddi. Though the new year so far brought us no rain, still the river of late had begun to run high on account of precipitation at its upper courses. High water does not always deter, but rapid rising or falling is fraught with risk. After several days' waiting the status of the water was considered safe, and, leaving three boatloads to be called for later, in the middle of January, we made a start and halted at a sand slope where the river ran narrow among low hills, two hundred metres below the first great kiham. Malay rattan gatherers, with four prahus, were already camped here awaiting a favourable opportunity to negotiate the kihams, and they too were going to make the attempt next morning. As the river might rise unexpectedly, we brought ashore only what was needed for the night. Next day at half-past six o'clock we started, on a misty, fresh morning, and in a few minutes were within hearing of the roar of the rapids, an invigorating sound and an inspiring sight. The so-called Kiham Atas is one kilometre long. The left side of the river rises perpendicularly over the deep, narrow waters, the lower part bare, but most of it covered with picturesque vegetation, especially conspicuous being rows of sago palms. The prahus had to be dragged up along the opposite side between big stones. Only our instruments were carried overland, as we walked along a foot-path through delightful woods, and at nine o'clock the prahus had finished the ascent. Not long afterward we approached the first of the four big kihams which still had to be passed and which are more difficult. Having been relieved of their loads the prahus were hauled, one at a time, around a big promontory situated just opposite a beautiful cascade that falls into the river on the mountainous side. Around the promontory the water forms treacherous currents. Above it eight or nine Malays pulled the rattan cable, which was three times as long as usual, and when the first prahu, one man inside, came into view from below, passing the promontory, it unexpectedly shot out into the middle of the river, and then, in an equally startling manner, turned into a back current. This rapidly carried it toward an almost invisible rock where Longko, who was an old hand on this river, had taken his stand among the waves and kept it from foundering. The Malays were pulling the rattan as fast as they could, running at times, but before the prahu could be hauled up to safety it still had to pass a hidden rock some distance out. It ran against this and made a disagreeable turn, but regained its balance. The next one nearly turned over, and Mr. Demmini decided to take out the kinema camera, which was got in readiness to film the picturesque scene. In the meantime, in order to control the prahu from the side, a second rattan rope had been tied to the following one, thereby enabling the men to keep it from going too far out. This should have been done at the start, but the Malays always like to take their chances. Though the remaining prahus did not present such exciting spectacles, nevertheless the scene was uncommonly picturesque. After nine hours of heavy work, during most of which the men had kept running from stone to stone dragging rattan cables, we camped on a sand-ridge that ran out as a peninsula into the river. At one side was an inlet of calm, dark-coloured water into which, a hundred metres away, a tributary emptied itself into a lovely waterfall. A full moon rose over the enchanting landscape. At half-past six in the morning we started for the next kiham, the so-called Kiham Mudang, where we arrived an hour later. This was the most impressive of all the rapids so far, the river flowing between narrow confines in a steady down-grade course, which at first sight seemed impossible of ascent. The river had fallen half a metre since the day before, and although most kihams are easier to pass at low water, this one was more difficult. The men, standing in water up to their arms, brought all the luggage ashore and carried it further up the river. Next the prahus were successfully pulled up, being kept as near land as possible and tossed like toys on the angry waves, and pushed in and out of small inlets between the big stones. In three hours we effected the passage and in the afternoon arrived at Tumbang Djuloi, a rather prettily situated kampong on a ridge along the river. I was installed in a small house which was vacant at one end of the little village, the greater part of which is Malay. There were two houses belonging to Ot-Danums which I found locked with modern padlocks. Nearly all Malays and Dayaks were at the ladangs, where they spend most of their time, remaining over night. Coal, which is often found on the upper part of the Barito River, may be observed in the bank of the river in a layer two metres thick. It is of good quality, but at present cannot be utilised on account of the formidable obstacle to transportation presented by the kiham below. Our Malays soon began to talk of returning, fifteen of the twenty-four men wanting to go home. Payment having been refused until the goods left below had been brought up, a settlement was reached and the necessary men, with the sergeant, departed for Telok Djulo. In the meantime we began to convey our belongings higher up the river, above the next kiham, where they were stored in the jungle and covered with a tent cloth. After the arrival of the luggage which had been left behind, there was a universal clamour for returning home, the Malays professing great disinclination to proceeding through the difficult Busang country ahead of us. Even those from Puruk Tjahu, who had pledged themselves to continue to the end, backed out. Though wages were raised to f. 1.50 per day, only eight men remained. To this number we were able to add three Malays from the kampong. One was the Mohammedan guru (priest), another a mild-tempered Malay who always had bad luck, losing floats of rattan in the kihams, and therefore passed under the nickname of tokang karam (master of misfortune). The third was a strong, tall man with some Dayak blood, who was tatued. Djobing, as he was named, belonged to a camp of rattan workers up on the Busang, and decided to go at the last moment, no doubt utilising the occasion as a convenient way of returning. I was glad to see him climb down the steep embankment, carrying in one hand a five-gallon tin, neatly painted, which had opening and cover at the long side, to which a handle was attached. Under the other arm he had the usual outfit of a travelling Malay, a mat, on which he slept at night and in which were wrapped a sheet and a few pieces of light clothing. His tin case was full of tobacco and brought forth disparaging remarks from the lieutenant, who was chary of the precious space in the prahus. Having successfully passed the censor Djobing was assigned to my prahu, where he soon showed himself to be a very good man, as alert as a Dayak and not inclined to save himself trouble. He would jump into the water up to his neck to push and steer the prahu, or, in the fashion of the Dayaks and the best Malays, would place his strong back under and against it to help it off when grounded on a rock. When circumstances require quick action such men will dive under the prahu and put their backs to it from the other side. There was little chance of more paddling, the prahus being poled or dragged by rattan, and many smaller kihams were passed. We entered the Busang River, which is barely thirty-five metres wide at its mouth, flowing through hilly country. The water was low at that time, but is liable to rise quickly, through rains, and as it has little opportunity for expansion at the sides the current flows with such violence that travel becomes impossible. The most difficult part of our journey lay before us, and the possibility of one or two, or even three months' delay on account of weather conditions is then taken as a matter of course by the natives, though I trusted to have better luck than that. CHAPTER XVI ARRIVAL AT BAHANDANG--ON THE EQUATOR--A STARTLING ROBBERY--OUR MOST LABORIOUS JOURNEY--HORN-BILLS--THE SNAKE AND THE INTREPID PENYAHBONG--ARRIVAL AT TAMALOE Bahandang, where we arrived early in the second afternoon, is the headquarters of some Malay rubber and rattan gatherers of the surrounding utan. A house had been built at the conflux with the river of a small affluent, and here lived an old Malay who was employed in receiving the products from the workers in the field. Only his wife was present, he having gone to Naan on the Djuloi River, but was expected to return soon. The place is unattractive and looked abandoned. Evidently at a previous time effort had been made to clear the jungle and to cultivate bananas and cassavas. Among felled trees and the exuberance of a new growth of vegetation a few straggling bananas were observable, but all the big cassava plants had been uprooted and turned over by the wild pigs, tending to increase the dismal look of the place. A lieutenant in charge of a patrouille had put up a rough pasang-grahan here, where our lieutenant and the soldiers took refuge, while I had the ground cleared near one end of it, and there placed my tent. Not far off stood a magnificent tree with full, straight stem, towering in lonely solitude fifty metres above the overgrown clearing. In a straight line up its tall trunk wooden plugs had been driven in firmly about thirty centimetres apart. This is the way Dayaks, and Malays who have learned it from them, climb trees to get the honey and wax of the bees' nests suspended from the high branches. On the Barito, from the deck of the _Otto_, I had observed similar contrivances on still taller trees of the same kind called tapang, which are left standing when the jungle is cleared to make ladangs. A few days later the rest of our party arrived and, having picked up six rubber gatherers, brought the remainder of the luggage from their camp. Some men were then sent to bring up the goods stored in the utan below, and on February 3 this was accomplished. An Ot-Danum from the Djuloi River, with wife and daughter, camped here for a few days, hunting for gold in the river soil, which is auriferous as in many other rivers of Borneo. They told me they were glad to make sixty cents a day, and if they were lucky the result might be two florins. We found ourselves in the midst of the vast jungles that cover Borneo, serving to keep the atmosphere cool and prevent air currents from ascending in these windless tropics. We were almost exactly on the equator, at an elevation of about 100 metres. In January there had been little rain and in daytime the weather had been rather muggy, but with no excessive heat to speak of, provided one's raiment is suited to the tropics. On the last day of the month, at seven o'clock in the morning, after a clear and beautiful night, the temperature was 72° F. (22° C.). During the additional three weeks passed here, showers fell occasionally and sometimes it rained all night. As a rule the days were bright, warm, and beautiful; the few which were cloudy seemed actually chilly and made one desire the return of the sun. Our first task was to make arrangements for the further journey up the Busang River to Tamaloe, a remote kampong recently formed by the Penyahbongs on the upper part of the river. We were about to enter the great accumulation of kihams which make travel on the Busang peculiarly difficult. The lieutenant's hope that we might secure more men from among the rubber gatherers was not fulfilled. The few who were present made excuses, and as for the others, they were far away in the utan, nobody knew where. We still had some Malays, and, always scheming for money or advantage to themselves, they began to invent new difficulties and demand higher wages. Although I was willing to make allowances, it was impossible to go beyond a certain limit, because the tribes we should meet later would demand the same payment as their predecessors had received. The old Malay resident, who in the meantime had returned from his absence, could offer no advice. Finally exorbitant wages were demanded, and all wanted to return except four. As the lieutenant had expressed his willingness to proceed to Tamaloe in advance of the party and try to hire the necessary men there, it was immediately decided that he should start with our four remaining men and one soldier, while the rest of us waited here with the sergeant and four soldiers. On February 4 the party was off, as lightly equipped as possible, and if all went well we expected to have the necessary men within three weeks. On the same afternoon Djobing and three companions, who were going up to another rattan station, Djudjang, on a path through the jungle, proposed to me to transport some of our luggage in one of my prahus. The offer was gladly accepted, a liberal price paid, and similar tempting conditions offered if they and a few men, known to be at the station above, would unite in taking all our goods up that far. The following morning they started off. The Malays of these regions, who are mainly from the upper part of the Kapuas River in the western division and began to come here ten years previously, are physically much superior to the Malays we brought, and for work in the kihams are as fine as Dayaks. They remain here for years, spending two or three months at a time in the utan. Djobing had been here four years and had a wife in his native country. There are said to be 150 Malays engaged in gathering rattan, and, no doubt, also rubber, in these vast, otherwise uninhabited upper Dusun lands. What with the absence of natives and the scarcity of animals and birds, the time spent here waiting was not exactly pleasant. Notwithstanding the combined efforts of the collector, the sergeant, and one other soldier, few specimens were brought in. Mr. Demmini, the photographer, and Mr. Loing were afflicted with dysentery, from which they recovered in a week. As a climax came the startling discovery that one of the two money-boxes belonging to the expedition, containing f. 3,000 in silver, had been stolen one night from my tent, a few feet away from the pasang-grahan. They were both standing at one side covered with a bag, and while it was possible for two men to carry off such a heavy box if one of them lifted the tent wall, still the theft implied an amount of audacity and skill with which hitherto I had not credited the Malays. The rain clattering on the roof of the tent, and the fact that, contrary to Dutch custom, I always extinguished my lamp at night, was in their favour. After this occurrence the lamp at night always hung lighted outside of the tent door. All evidence pointed to the four men from Tumbang Djuloi who recently left us. The sergeant had noticed their prahus departing from a point lower down than convenience would dictate, and, as a matter of fact, nobody else could have done it. But they were gone, we were in seclusion, and there was nobody to send anywhere. In the middle of February we had twenty-nine men here from Tamaloe, twenty of them Penyahbongs and the remainder Malays. The lieutenant had been successful, and the men had only used two days in coming down with the current. They were in charge of a Malay called Bangsul, who formerly had been in the service of a Dutch official, and whose fortune had brought him to distant Tamaloe, where he had acquired a dominating position over the Penyahbongs. I wrote a report of the robbery to the captain in Puruk Tjahu, and sent Longko to Tumbang Djuloi to deliver it to the kapala, who was requested to forward it. There the matter ended. I was determined that the loss, though at the time a hard blow, should not interfere with the carrying out of my plans. By rigid economy it could, at least partially, be offset, and besides, I felt sure that if the necessity arose it would be possible later to secure silver from Dutch officials on the lower Mahakam River. Bangsul and some Penyahbongs, at my request, searched in the surrounding jungle growth and found a hole that had been dug of the same size and shape as the stolen box, where no doubt it had been deposited until taken on board the prahu. The day previous to our departure Mr. Demmini again was taken ill, and in accordance with his own wish it was decided that he should return. I let him have Longko in command of one of the best prahus, and in time he arrived safely in Batavia, where he had to undergo further treatment. Longko, the Malay with the reputation for reliability, never brought back the men and the prahu; their loss, however, was greater than mine, as their wages, pending good behaviour, were mostly unpaid. Shortly after their prahu had disappeared from view, on February 20, we departed in the opposite direction. Our new crew, of Penyahbongs mostly, who only lately have become acquainted with prahus, were not quite so efficient as the former, but much more amiable, laughing and cracking jokes with each other as they ran along over the rocks, pulling the rattan ropes of the prahus. No sooner did we ascend one kiham than we arrived at another, but they were still small. Although the day was unusually warm, there was a refreshing coolness in the shade under the trees that grow among the rocks along the river. Early in the afternoon we camped at the foot of the first of twelve great kihams which must be passed before arriving at Djudjang, the rattan gatherers' camp. During a heavy shower a Penyahbong went into the jungle with his sumpitan and returned with a young rusa, quarters of which he presented to Mr. Loing and myself. Bangsul had travelled here before, and he thought we probably would need two weeks for the journey to Djudjang from where, under good weather conditions, three days' poling should bring us to Tamaloe. He had once been obliged to spend nearly three months on this trip. We spent one day here, while all our goods were being taken on human backs to a place some distance above the kiham. Four Malays and one Penyahbong wanted remedies for diseases they professed to have. The latter seemed really ill and had to be excused from work. The rest said they suffered from demum (malaria), a word that has become an expression for most cases of indisposition, and I gave them quinine. The natives crave the remedies the traveller carries, which they think will do them good whether needed or not. Much annoyance is experienced from Malays in out-of-the-way places presenting their ailments, real or fancied, to the traveller's attention. The Dayaks, not being forward, are much less annoying, though equally desirous of the white man's medicine. An Ot-Danum once wanted a cure for a few white spots on the finger-nails. In the previous camp a Penyahbong had consulted me for a stomach-ache and I gave him what I had at hand, a small quantity of cholera essence much diluted in a cup of water. All the rest insisted on having a taste of it, smacking their lips with evident relish. Early next morning the prahus were hauled up the rapids and then loaded, after which the journey was continued through a smiling, slightly mountainous country, with trees hanging over the river. We actually had a course of smooth water, and before us, near the horizon, stretched two long ridges with flat summits falling abruptly down at either side of the river. At two o'clock in the afternoon we reached the foot of two big kihams, and Bangsul considered it time to camp. It must be admitted that the work was hard and progress necessarily slow. Nevertheless, it was so early in the day that I suggested going a little further. Soon, however, seeing the futility of trying to bring him to my way of thinking, I began arrangements for making camp. Better to go slowly than not to travel at all. Close to my tent, growing on low trees, were a great number of beautiful yellow and white orchids. Toward sunset, Bangsul surprised me by bringing all the men to my tent. He said they wanted to go home because they were afraid I should expect too much of them, as they all wanted to travel plan-plan (slowly). The Penyahbongs before me were of a decent sort, and even the Malays were a little more gentle and honest than usual. Bangsul was "the whole thing," and I felt myself equal to the situation. This was his first attempt at a strike for higher wages and came unexpectedly soon, but was quickly settled by my offer to raise the wages for the six most useful and strongest men. After our baggage had been stored above the head of the kihams, and the prahus had been taken up to the same place, we followed overland. As we broke camp two argus pheasants flew over the utan through the mist which the sun was trying to disperse. We walked along the stony course of the rapids, and when the jungle now and then allowed a peep at the roaring waters it seemed incredible that the prahus had been hauled up along the other side. Half an hour's walk brought us to the head of the kihams where the men were loading the prahus that were lying peacefully in still waters. The watchmen who had slept here pointed out a tree where about twenty argus pheasants had roosted. Waiting for the prahus to be loaded, I sat down on one of the big stones of the river bank to enjoy a small landscape that presented itself on the west side of the stream. When long accustomed to the enclosing walls of the dark jungle a change is grateful to the eye. Against the sky rose a bold chalk cliff over 200 metres high with wooded summit, the edge fringed with sago palms in a very decorative manner. This is one of the two ridges we had seen at a distance; the other is higher and was passed further up the river. From the foot of the cliff the jungle sloped steeply down toward the water. The blue sky, a few drifting white clouds, the beautiful light of the fresh, glorious morning, afforded moments of delight that made one forget all the trouble encountered in getting here. It seems as if the places least visited by men are the most attractive. Four hornbills were flying about. They settled on the branches of a tall dead tree that towered high above the jungle and deported themselves in strange ways, moving busily about on the branch; after a few minutes three of them flew away, the other remaining quietly behind. There are several kinds of hornbills; they are peculiar birds in that the male is said to close with mud the entrance to the nest in the hollow stem of the tree, thus confining the female while she is sitting on her eggs. Only a small hole is left through which he feeds her. The great hornbill (_rhinoflax vigil_) flies high over the jungle in a straight line and usually is heard before it is seen, so loud is the noise made by the beating of the wings. Its clamorous call is never to be forgotten, more startling than the laughter of the laughing jackass of Australia. The sound inspires the Dayak with courage and fire. When he takes the young out of the nest, later to serve him as food, the parent bird darts at the intruder. The hornbill is an embodiment of force that may be either beneficent or harmful, and has been appropriated by the Dayaks to serve various purposes. Wooden images of this bird are put up as guardians, and few designs in textile or basket work are as common as that of the tingang. The handsome tail feathers of the rhinoceros hornbill, with transverse bands of alternate white and black, are highly valued; the warriors attach them to their rattan caps, and from the solid casque with which the beak of the giant species is provided, are carved the large red ear ornaments. Aided by the sumpitan the Dayaks and Punans are expert in bringing down the rather shy birds of the tall trees. Three hours later we had managed to carry all our goods above the kiham Duyan, which is only one hundred metres long, but with a fall of at least four metres; consequently in its lower part it rushes like a disorderly waterfall. It took the men one and a half hours to pull the empty prahus up along the irregular bank, and I stood on a low rock which protruded above the water below the falls, watching the proceedings with much interest. The day was unusually warm and full of moisture, as, without hat, in the burning sun I tried for over an hour to get snapshots, while two kinds of bees, one very small, persistently clung to my hands, face, and hair. The journey continued laborious; it consisted mostly in unloading and reloading the prahus and marching through rough country, now on one side of the river, now on the other, where the jungle leeches were very active and the ankles of the men were bleeding. At times the prahus had to be dragged over the big stones that form the banks of the river. It was easy to understand what difficulties and delays might be encountered here in case of much rain. But in spite of a few heavy showers the weather favoured us, and on the last day of the month we had successfully passed the rapids. Next morning, after pulling down my tent, the Penyahbongs placed stray pieces of paper on top of the remaining tent-poles as a sign of joy that the kihams were left behind. There still remained some that were obstinate on account of low water, but with our experience and concerted action those were easily overcome, and early in the afternoon we arrived at Djudjang, a rough, unattractive, and overgrown camp, where I decided to stay until next morning. Many Malays die from beri-beri, but there is little malaria among those who work in the utan of the Busang River. The half dozen men who were present were certainly a strong and healthy-looking lot. One of them, with unusually powerful muscles and short legs, declined to be photographed. Our next camp was at a pleasant widening of the river with a low-lying, spacious beach of pebbles. I pitched my tent on higher ground on the edge of the jungle. Some of the Penyahbongs, always in good humour and enjoying themselves, went out with sumpitans to hunt pig, and about seven o'clock, on a beautiful starlit night, a big specimen was brought in, which I went to look at. While one man opened it by cutting lengthwise across the ribs, another was engaged taking out the poison-carrying, triangular point. With his knife the latter deftly cut all around the wound, taking out some flesh, and after a little while he found part of the point, then the rest. It looked like glass or flint and had been broken transversely in two; usually it is made of bamboo or other hard wood. The bladder was carefully cut out, and a man carried it off and threw it away in order that the hunters should not be short of breath when walking. The huge head, about fifty centimetres long, which was bearded and had a large snout, was cut off with part of the neck and carried to one of the camps, with a piece of the liver, which is considered the best part. I had declined it, as the meat of the wild pig is very poor and to my taste repulsive; this old male being also unusually tough, the soldiers complained. The following morning I saw the head and jaws almost entirely untouched, too tough even for the Penyahbongs. Next day the river ran much narrower and between rocky sides. In the forenoon the first prahu came upon an otter eating a huge fish which the strong animal had dragged up on a rock, and of which the men immediately took possession. It was cut up in bits and distributed among all of them, the otter thus saving the expedition thirty-two rations of dried fish that evening and next morning. To each side of the head was attached a powerful long spine which stood straight out. The natives called the fish kendokat. At one place where the water ran smoothly, one man from each prahu pulled its rattan rope, the rest poling. I saw the Penyahbong who was dragging my prahu suddenly catch sight of something under the big stones over which he walked, and then he stopped to investigate. From my seat I perceived a yellowish snake about one and a half metres long swimming under and among the stones. A man from the prahu following ours came forward quickly and began to chase it in a most determined manner. With his right hand he caught hold of the tail and twisted it; then, as the body was underneath the junction of two stones, with his left hand he tried to seize the head which emerged on the other side. The snake was lively and bit at his hand furiously, which he did not mind in the least. Others came to his assistance and struck at its head with their paddles, but were unable to accomplish their purpose as it was too well entrenched. A splendid primitive picture of the savage in pursuit of his dinner, the Penyahbong stood erect with his back toward me, holding the tail firmly. After a few moments he bent down again trying in vain to get hold of its neck, but not being able to pull the snake out he had to let the dainty morsel go. Later we saw one swimming down the current, which the Penyahbongs evidently also would have liked a trial at had we not already passed the place. The river widened out again, the rocks on the sides disappeared, and deep pools were passed, though often the water ran very shallow, so the prahus were dragged along with difficulty. Fish were plentiful, some astonishingly large. In leaping for something on the surface they made splashes as if a man had jumped into the water. On the last day, as the morning mist began to rise, our thirty odd men, eager to get home, poling the prahus with long sticks, made a picturesque sight. In early March, after a successful journey, we arrived at Tamaloe, having consumed only fourteen days from Bahandang because weather conditions had been favourable, with no overflow of the river and little rain. It was pleasant to know that the most laborious part of the expedition was over. I put up my tent under a large durian tree, which was then in bloom. CHAPTER XVII THE PENYAHBONGS, MEN OF THE WOODS--RHINOCEROS HUNTERS--CHARACTERISTICS OF THE PENYAHBONGS--EASY HOUSEKEEPING--DAILY LIFE--WOMAN'S LOT The Penyahbongs until lately were nomadic people, roaming about in the nearby Müller mountains, subsisting on wild sago and the chase and cultivating some tobacco. They lived in bark huts on the ground or in trees. Some eight years previous to my visit they were induced by the government to form kampongs and adopt agricultural pursuits, and while most of them appear to be in the western division, two kampongs were formed east of the mountains, the Sabaoi and the Tamaloe, with less than seventy inhabitants altogether. Tamaloe is the name of an antoh (spirit) who lived here in the distant past. The kampong consists of four small, poorly built communal houses, and of the Malays who have settled here, in houses of their own making, the most important is Bangsul, who married a daughter of Pisha, the Penyahbong chief. Both before and since their transition to sedentary habits the Penyahbongs have been influenced by the Saputans, their nearest neighbours, four days' journey to the north, on the other side of the water-shed. Their ideas about rice culture and the superstitions and festivals attending it, come from the Saputans, of whom also a few live in Tamaloe. They have only recently learned to swim and many do not yet know how to paddle. It may be of some interest to note the usual occurrence of rain at this kampong as gathered from native observation. April-July there is no rain; August-October, little; November and December have a little more; January much; February and March less. Every evening as long as we remained here Pisha, the chief, used to sing, reciting mythical events, thereby attracting good antohs (spirits) and keeping the evil ones away, to the end that his people might be in good health and protected against misfortune. His efforts certainly were persevering, and he had a good voice that sounded far into the night, but his songs were of such an extraordinarily melancholy character that it still makes me depressed to remember them. He was an amiable man, whose confidence I gained and who cheerfully gave any information I wanted. Of his five daughters and three sons only the youngest daughter, who was not yet married, was allowed to pronounce Pisha's name, according to custom. Nor was it permissible for his sons-in-law to give me the name, still less for him to do so himself. After Mr. Demmini's departure all the photographing fell upon me, to which I had no objection, but it was out of the question also to do developing, except of the kodak films, and as the lieutenant, who had done some before, thought he could undertake it, the matter was so arranged. The first attempts, while not wholly successful, were not discouraging, and as time went on the lieutenant turned out satisfactory results. We had a couple of days' visit from the kapala of Sebaoi, a tall and nervous-looking Penyahbong, but friendly, as were the rest of them. I was then engaged in photographing and taking anthropometric measurements of the gently protesting natives, to whose primitive minds these operations appear weirdly mysterious. At first the kapala positively declined to take any part in this work, but finally reached the conclusion that he would be measured, but photographed he could not be, because his wife was pregnant. For that reason he also declined a glass of gin which the lieutenant offered him. The valiant man who had tried to catch the yellow snake on our river voyage called on me with his wife, who knew how to embroider well, and I bought some shirts embellished with realistic representations of animals, etc. The husband had that unsightly skin disease (_tinea imbricata_) that made his body appear to be covered with half-loose fish scales. Next day, to my amazement, he had shed the scales. The previous night he had applied a remedy which made it possible to peel the dead skin off, and his face, chest, and stomach were clean, as were also his legs and arms. His back was still faulty because he had not had enough of the remedy, but he was going to tackle the back that evening. The remedy, which had been taught them by the Saputans, consists of two kinds of bark and the large leaves of a jungle plant with red flowers, one of which was growing near my tent. All the tribes visited by me suffer more or less from various kinds of skin diseases caused by micro-parasitic animals, the Kenyahs and Oma-Sulings in a much less degree. The most repulsive form, just described, does not seem to interfere with general health. Three of my Kayan carriers thus affected were more muscular and stronger than the rest. One of them was the humorous member of the party, always cutting capers and dancing. Women are less affected than men, and I often saw men with the disfiguring scaly disease whose wives were evidently perfectly free from it. A party of six fine-looking Penyahbongs were here on a rhinoceros hunting expedition. They came from the western division, and as the rhino had been nearly exterminated in the mountain ranges west and northwest of Tamaloë, the hunters were going farther east. Such a party carries no provisions, eating sago and animals that they kill. Their weapons are sumpitans and parangs, and equipment for stamping sago forms part of their outfit. The rhino is approached stealthily and the large spear-point on one end of the sumpitan is thrust into its belly. Thus wounded it is quite possible, in the dense jungle, to keep in touch with it, and, according to trustworthy reports, one man alone is able in this way to kill a rhino. It is hunted for the horn, which Chinamen will buy. At my request two of the hunters gave war-dances very well, taking turns. Their movements were graceful, and in the moonlight they appeared sinuous as serpents. The same dance obtains in all the tribes visited, and the movement is forward and back, or in a circle. It was performed by one man who in a preliminary way exercised the flexible muscles of the whole body, after which he drew his sword, seized the shield which was lying on the ground and continued his dancing more vigorously, but with equal grace. Pisha, the chief, came to the dance, and the meeting with the new arrivals, though silent and undemonstrative, was decidedly affectionate, especially with one of them who was a near relative. Half embracing each other, they stood thus at least a minute. The Penyahbongs have rather long legs, take long paces, putting down their heels first. They have great endurance and can walk in one day as far as a Malay can in three. In the mountains the cold weather prevented them from sleeping much. It often happened that they were without food for three days, when they would drink water and smoke tobacco. Trees are climbed in the jumping way described before, and without any mechanical aid. Formerly bathing was not customary. Excrements are left on the ground and not in the water. They don't like the colour red, but prefer black. Fire was made by flint and iron, which they procured from the Saputans. The hair is not cut nor their teeth. The women wear around the head a ring of cloth inside of which are various odoriferous leaves and flowers of doubtful appreciation by civilised olfactory senses. A strong-smelling piece of skin from the civet cat is often attached to this head ornament, which is also favoured by natives on the Mahakam. In regard to ear ornamentation the Penyahbongs are at least on a par with the most extreme fashions of the Dayaks. The men make three slits in the ear; in the upper part a wooden disk is enclosed, in the middle the tusk of a large species of cat, and in the lobe, which is stretched very long, hangs a brass coil. The ears of the women have only two incisions, the one in the middle part being adorned with bead strings, while in the lobe up to one hundred tin rings may be seen. They are tatued, and noticeable on the men is a succession of stars across the chest, as if hanging on a thread which is lower in the middle. The stars symbolise the fruits of durian. The colour of the tatuing is obtained from damar. Formerly they wore scanty garments of fibre, the man wearing only a loin cloth, and in case of cold weather a piece of the same material covered the shoulders and back. The woman had a short skirt folded together at the back, and both sexes used rattan caps. Besides sago their main subsistence was, and still is, all kinds of animals, including carnivorous, monkeys, bears, snakes, etc. The gall and urine bladder were universally thrown away, but at present these organs from bear and large snakes are sold to traders who dispose of them to Chinamen. Formerly these people had no salt. No cooking utensils were employed. Sago was wrapped in leaves and placed on the fire, and the meat was roasted. There is no cooking separately for men and women, and meals are taken irregularly, but usually twice a day. The crocodile is not eaten, because it would make one mad, nor are domestic dogs or omen birds used for food. Honey is collected by cutting down the tree. Their principal weapon is the sumpitan, which, as usual, with a spear point lashed to one end, also serves as spear and is bought from the Saputans. Parang and shield complete the man's outfit. On the Busang only ten ipoh (upas) trees are known from which poison may be obtained for the blow-pipe darts; to get a new supply a journey of two days down the river is necessary, and six for the return. Except for a few cases of malaria, among the Penyahbongs there is no disease. In 1911 the cholera epidemic reached them, as well as the Saputans. Of remedies they have none. At the sight of either of the two species of venomous snakes of the king cobra family this native takes to his heels, and if bitten the wound is not treated with ipoh. Until recently they had no blians; there were, at this time, two in Tamaloe, one Saputan and one Malay, and the one in the other kampong learned his art from the Saputans. One man does not kill another, though he may kill a member of the Bukat tribe, neighbouring nomads who live in the northeast of the western division, in the mountains toward Sarawak. Suicide is unknown. It was asserted to me that the Penyahbongs do not steal nor lie, though I found the Saputans untrustworthy in these respects. There is no marriage ceremony, but the young man must pay the parents of the bride one gong (f. 30), and if the girl is the daughter of a chief her price is six gongs. About half of the men select very youthful wives, from eight years up. There are boys of ten married to girls of a similar age. One boy of fourteen was married to a girl of twenty. Children of the chief being much sought, one of Pisha's daughters, twenty-three years old, had been disposed of when she was at her mother's breast, her future husband being twenty at that time. Upon reaching womanhood she did not like him at first, and for five years declined to share the mat with him. Recently, however, she had begun to associate with him, and they had one child. The children are not beaten, are left to pick up by themselves whatever knowledge is necessary, and when the boy is ten years old he can kill his babi with a sumpitan. The parents of young girls do not allow them to be too intimate with young men. A pregnant woman must not eat durian which, in falling from the tree, has broken, or stuck in a cleft without reaching the ground, nor any kind of fruit that does not fall straight to earth, nor sago from a palm tree which chanced to become entangled by a branch instead of falling directly to the ground, nor the large hornbill, nor snakes, nor pigs, nor fish that were killed by being struck on the head, or by any other means than with spear or parang, nor land turtle, nor the scaly ant-eater. She must not make a house or take part in making it, and therefore if a pole has to be put in place she must call another woman to do it. Further, she must not eat an animal which has lost one or both eyes, nor one the foot of which has been crushed, nor an animal of strong odour (like civet cat, skunk, etc., not an offensive smell to these natives); nor are she and her husband permitted to gather rubber, nor may wood be gathered for fire-making which has roads on it made by ants. She must not drink water from a back current, nor water which runs through a fallen tree. A pig may be eaten, but if it has a foetus inside that must be avoided. The husband also observes all these tabus and precautions. The Penyahbongs rise before dawn. Fire is made, primitive man's greatest comfort, and they seat themselves before it awaiting daylight, the woman brings her child near it, and all smoke strong native tobacco. Without first eating, the man goes out to hunt for animals, usually alone, but if two or three go together they later separate. The hunter leaves his parang at home, taking only the sumpitan. He may not return until the afternoon. Small game he carries home himself, but when a large animal has been killed, as wild pig, deer, bear, large monkey, he will leave it in the utan for his wife to bring home. In case of a rhino being slain he will remove the horn, but the woman will cut up the animal and take it home, unless it is too late, when she postpones the task until the next morning. The husband is fond of singing, and, accompanying himself by striking the rattan strings attached to the back of a shield, he may occupy himself in this way until the small hours of the morning. Women make mats in the evening, or do work of some kind, and the young people may play and sing for a while, or they may listen to the singing of the lord of the household; but gradually all go to sleep except the wife. Besides the small knife for splitting rattan, which is the special implement of the Dayak woman, the fair sex of the Penyahbongs has a parang, a spear, an axe, a bone implement used in working rattan mats, and a rattan bag which is carried on the back. The women in several Dayak tribes also possess such feminine accessories. With the Penyahbongs the male chiefly hunts, the female doing all the work. She makes the house, cuts the sago palm, and prepares the sago. When setting forth to bring home the animal killed by her husband she carries her own parang with which to cut it up, placing it inside the rattan bag on her back. With one or two other women she may go out with the dogs to kill wild pigs with a spear. When searching for the many kinds of fruit found in the utan her own axe is carried with which to cut the tree down, for she never climbs to pick the fruit. As for the durian, she waits until it falls ripe to the ground. The woman also brings water and firewood, does all the cooking, and then calls her husband that he may eat. Basketry is not known, but the rattan mat and the mat of palm leaves on which these natives sleep are nicely made by the women, who also manufacture the large mat on which the stamping of sago, by human feet, is performed. In changing abode women carry everything, the men conveying only the sumpitan and the darts, probably also a child that is big enough to walk, but the small child the woman always carries. If the men go to war the women remain behind and defend themselves if attacked. Although the woman thus bears an absurdly large share of the family burden, nevertheless it cannot be said that her lot is an unhappy one, because she is not the slave of the man, as is the case, for instance, with the Australian savages. From time immemorial their society has known no other conditions, and the married couples are generally happy. Both of them treat their children with affection, and though the husband may become angry, he only uses his tongue, never strikes her, and he has no polygamous inclinations. Divorces, though permissible, do not occur, because there is a natural feeling against illicit relations with the husband or wife of another. Moreover, the rest of the community would resent it. Bangsul, who had been there seven years, had never heard of divorce. When a man is near death his family and others gather around him to see him die, but without attempt to restore him to health. When dead his eyes are closed, he is washed, and a new chavat of fibre as well as a new shirt of the same material is given him. Tobacco is put in his mouth, four cigarettes on his abdomen, and on his chest and stomach are placed sago and cooked wild pig or some other meat for him to eat. Four bamboos filled with water are set upright near by. His sumpitan with its darts, poison for the darts, the parang, shield, and his musical instruments if he has any--in short, one sample of everything he had is laid down by his side. What little else may be left goes to the widow. When a woman dies she is treated in the same way, but the nose flute is the only instrument that accompanies her. A tree is cut down and from the log a dugout is made in which the corpse is placed, a board being loosely fastened as a cover. This coffin is placed on a simple platform in the utan. There is no feast attending this rite. I visited the burial-place (taaran) of Tamaloe on the other side of the river about a kilometre away. It was difficult to find, for the small space which is cleared of jungle whenever there is a funeral very soon grows up again. Only two boxes, each containing the corpse of a child, were in good condition, the rest having fallen down and disappeared through the action of rains and wild pigs. After the husband's death the widow eats only every second day for a month; after that she is free to eat, but for a year she weeps twice a day, morning and evening,--though sometimes she forgets. The father, mother, and sister of the deceased also take part in the one-year period of wailing twice a day. After that period has elapsed the widow may remarry. For the widower there are practically the same regulations, though he does not weep loudly, and after eight months he can look for another wife; but first he must have taken a head. CHAPTER XVIII A STRANGE MAMMAL--ANIMAL LIFE IN CENTRAL BORNEO--A SUPERB AND SILENT REALM--VISIT TO A SALT WATER EXUDATION--PASSING THE DIVIDING RIDGE--A MOUSE-DEER CHASE--ON THE KASAO RIVER I was planning a visit to the headwaters of the Busang River, to be made in connection with our future journey. Few natives, if any, have entered that region, which was described as very mountainous, though the mountains cannot be very high. But all who were approached on the subject, whether Penyahbong or Malay, absolutely declined to take part in an expedition to that country, because they would be killed by an animal called nundun, which is very numerous there. They might be able to tackle one, they said, but as soon as you encounter one there are hundreds more coming for you, and there is nothing else to do but to run for your life. Those regions, although known to be rich in rubber trees, are shunned by all natives. Unless this is an altogether fabulous animal, which is hardly likely to be the case, because the Punans and Bukats confirmed its existence, it would appear to be a kind of bear which perhaps in fruit seasons gathers in great numbers, and which is ferocious. Nundun, in Penyahbong and Bukat called bohang (bear), is said to run faster than a dog, is killed with the sumpitan at twenty to thirty metres distance, and is eaten. It is further declared that its habitat extends through the hilly regions between the headwaters of the Busang River and the Upper Barito, and that it is especially numerous near the kampong Kelasin. If any one with the hope of possibly finding a new species of mammal should care to follow the matter up, Kelasin on the Upper Barito would not be an extremely difficult place to reach, with good men. Both the lieutenant and I, having so many rifles, were much inclined to defy the terrors of the nundun, but desirable as this expedition would have been, it had to be given up because of the formidable difficulties in getting men, even if we followed the route over the watershed which is used by the natives. Bangsul had undertaken to negotiate with us on behalf of the Penyahbongs and the Malays, and although in some ways he was an estimable man, his Malay characteristic of turning everything to his own advantage at times got the better of him and delayed an agreement. At first they demanded a sum amounting to seven florins a day for each of the twenty-nine men needed, but as fourteen Malay rubber-gatherers arrived very opportunely, it was agreed that we should be taken to the Kasao River for 300 florins and my six prahus. The natives had some trouble deciding how the prahus should be divided among them, the kapala insisting upon having the largest and best for himself. This question having been settled through Bangsul, on March 22 we departed. Our prahus were poled most of the way on a stream which, though rather shallow, ran with a swift current, and at times made my heavily loaded craft take water. In Borneo it usually requires as many days to get up-stream as it takes hours to come down. We stayed for the night at a former camping place of rattan seekers, a small, narrow clearing on the river brink, on which tents and sheds were huddled closely together in the way military men prefer when travelling in the utan. The paddlers had asked us to be ready at daylight, but at seven o'clock in the chilly and very foggy morning they were still warming themselves around the fire. An hour later, when we had finished loading the prahus, the river began to rise incredibly fast, at the rate of ten centimetres per minute in the first six minutes, and in two hours and a quarter it had risen 2.30 metres, when it became steady. In the meantime we had remade our camp, hoping that the river might permit us to travel next day. Three of the Penyahbongs went out hunting with the only sumpitan we had, and shortly afterward returned with a pig. Early in the afternoon we were much surprised by the appearance of a prahu with three Dayaks who had a dog and a sumpitan and brought a pig which they had killed in the morning. They were the chief, with two companions, from Data Láong on the Kasao River for which we were aiming. The rumour of our party had reached his ears, and with thirty men he had been waiting for us on this side of the watershed. Their scanty provisions soon ran out, and after waiting nine days all had returned home except the present party, whom we welcomed. The new men proved a valuable addition to our crew. The kapala, who was attached to my prahu, was active and gave his orders as if he knew how, a great relief from a weak Malay that hitherto had been at "the helm." When the men with the poles were unable to move the boat against the current, the small, but strongly built man, with a few very powerful pushes, would bring it forward, making it vibrate by his strength. At Tamaloe animals and birds were not plentiful, the call of the wah-wah usually imparting a little life to the mornings; and I once heard a crow. I do not remember to have seen on the whole Busang River the most familiar of all birds on the Bornean rivers, an ordinary sandpiper that flits before you on the beach. Birds singing in the morning are always rare except in the localities of paddi fields. The one most likely to attract attention on a forenoon is the giant hornbill, and as we advanced up the Busang its laugh might still be heard. Much more unusual was the call of some lonely argus pheasant or a crow. A few of the beautiful white raja birds were observed. Wild pigs and deer continued plentiful, but the monkeys seemed gradually to disappear. Fish there were in plenty, but they were now of smaller kinds, not agreeable to eat, having an oily taste and mostly very bony. At all our camping places ants of various kinds were numerous, also inside of the tent, but they did not seem to be obnoxious. Just before sunset the loud voices of the cicadas began, and after dark lovely moths were attracted by my lamp, while during the night bats flew in and out of my tent. The humidity of the atmosphere was great. Safety matches would not strike fire unless kept in an airtight box. My cameras were inside of solid steel boxes, provided with rubber bands against the covers, making them water-tight. Nevertheless, upon opening one that had been closed for three weeks the camera inside was found to be white with mould. It was rough and hard travelling on account of incessant low kihams to be passed, or banks of small stones over which the prahus had to be dragged. The Penyahbongs had not yet learned to be good boatmen, often nearly upsetting the prahu when getting in or out. Occasionally long quiet pools occurred, and the scenery here was grand and thrilling. Graceful trees of infinite variety bent over the water, bearing orchids of various colours, while creepers hung down everywhere, all reflected in a calm surface which seldom is disturbed by the splashing of fish. The orchids were more numerous than I had ever seen before. A delicate yellow one, growing in spikes, had a most unusual aromatic fragrance, as if coming from another world. In the morning a curtain of fog lies over the landscape, but about nine o'clock it begins to lift, and creeping up over the tree-tops gradually dissolves in the sun-light, while between the trees that border the river the deep-blue sky appears, with beautiful small cumulus clouds suspended in the atmosphere. With the exception, perhaps, of a large blue kingfisher sitting in solitary state on a branch extending over the water, or a distant hornbill with its cheerful grandiose laugh, there are no evidences of animal life, nevertheless the exquisite scenery seems to lure the beholder on and on. To pass through this superb and silent realm was like a pleasant dream. There are no mosquitoes and consequently no malaria. We were progressing through a country of which little is known accurately beyond its somewhat hilly character, and the fact that it is uninhabited except for small transient parties of Malays searching for rattan or rubber. The upper part of our route to the divide, a comparatively short distance, had not, to my knowledge, been traversed by white men before. Errors were corrected on the map of the watershed region. One day at noon, while we were waiting for the largest prahu to overtake us, fresh tracks of pig were discovered on the bank, and the Saputan dog, a very wise animal, was landed. A few minutes later he began the peculiar barking which indicated that he had caught the scent, and one man seized a sumpitan and ran off into the utan as fast as his legs could carry him, holding the weapon in his right hand in a horizontal position, spear end first. It sounded as if the dog might be holding the pig in the water a little higher up, but this was soon found to be a mistake when the barking was heard close by. The Saputan kapala then jumped from my prahu, drew his parang, and with wonderful elastic movements disappeared in the utan. Two or three minutes later they returned, one man bearing in his arms a scarcely half-grown live pig, which had been hit by the sumpitan. The whole affair lasted barely ten minutes. At another place, where we were again waiting for the big prahu, the Penyahbongs amused themselves with wrestling in water up to their shoulders. After some dancing around, the fight would invariably finish by both disappearing and after a few seconds coming to view again. This caused much merriment, especially to the wrestlers themselves, who laughed immoderately when reappearing. We entered the tributary Bulau, and a couple of hours later arrived at its junction with Bakkaang, at the source of which we expected to cross the watershed. The river, which was rather narrow, would be difficult to ascend unless we had showers. Luckily rain fell during the night, and although delayed by trees that had fallen across the stream, which was from six to ten metres wide, we made a good day's work and camped at an attractive old clearing of rattan gatherers. I spent the next forenoon in an excursion to a place within the jungle, where birds and animals sometimes congregate in great numbers to obtain the salt water which issues from the earth or rocks. This masin (salt water) was known to the Malay rattan seekers in our party, who had snared birds and deer there. In the dry season hundreds of birds of various kinds would gather. By wading up a small stream for twenty minutes we reached a place where water exuded from a rock, especially at its top, and by following the stream upward for another twenty minutes we arrived at the larger one, where the ooze from the rocks overflowed the ground. Only tracks were seen, but our guide said that after three rainless days in succession birds and animals would be sure to come there. Myriads of yellowish-gray flies covered the ground as well as the rocks, and after having taken some specimens of algae, also some white gelatinous stuff with which the Malays rub themselves when afflicted with beri-beri, I returned to camp. In spite of frequent light showers the stream failed to rise appreciably, and our goods had to be carried on the back of the men to our next camping place. The following morning we started in a heavy rain at which we rejoiced, because it enabled us to use our prahus until we reached the foot of the dividing ridge. At noon we arrived in camp, with our clothing thoroughly wet. What the downpour might have left intact the Penyahbongs, forgetting everything but the safety of the prahus, had done their best to drench by splashing water all the time. Just as we had made camp the rain ceased and with it, being near the source of the stream, the overflow too passed away. In dry weather it would be a tedious trip to get up the Bakkaang. For two days we were busy carrying our goods to the top of the ridge. Neither the Malays nor the Penyahbongs are very strong carriers, and they complained of being stenga mati (half dead) from their exertions. On the third day, when the ascent was to be finished, eight of them complained of being sakit (sick) or played out, and they looked it. Fortunately the Saputan chief, who a few days previously had left us to procure more men, returned with four companions, who came in very opportunely. The ascent is neither long nor difficult, a seldom used path leading across the ridge at the most convenient place. The elevation above sea level, taken April 2, by boiling point thermometer, was 425 metres (1,394.38 feet), and the ridge seemed to run evenly to either side. The space for a camp was somewhat cramped, and the small yellow bees that are so persistent in clinging to one's face and hands were very numerous; they will sting if irritated. Even the lieutenant, ordinarily impervious to that kind of annoyance, sought the protection of his mosquito net. The calls of argus pheasant and wah-wah next morning sounded familiar. The north side of the Bukit, or mountain (the name applied by the natives to the ridge), is steeper and rougher than the south side, but the descent presents no difficulties. We followed the small river Brani, most of the time wading it. The distance to the junction of the Brani with the Kasao River [*] is hardly five hours' walking, but copious showers, which at times changed the river to a torrential stream, interfered with the transportation of our goods, which required five days. [Footnote *: Kasao is the Malay name. The Saputans call the river Katju.] Our friend, the Saputan chief, had materially assisted us, and he was desired to walk down to his kampong--by boat only an hour's journey on the swift current--and bring men and prahus to take us away. He was very willing and exceedingly efficient, but he was also, in his childish way, intent on making as much out of us as possible. He wanted to bring too many prahus and men, for all the male population of the kampong were anxious to get this job, he said. I made him a fair offer, and three times he came to tell me that he still had to think over it. Finally, after three hours' deliberation, he accepted my proposition--provided I would pay for two days instead of one! In order to get action, and considering all the days they voluntarily had waited for us at the ridge, I acceded to this amendment and he went away happy. The men and the prahus came promptly and we began loading; I was glad at the prospect of getting away from the low-lying country, where we had our camp among bamboo trees, with the chance of being flooded should the river rise too high. As we were standing near my tent, getting ready to take it down, a plandok (mouse-deer, _tragulus_) came along--among the Saputans, and probably most Dayaks, reputed to be the wisest and most cunning of all animals, and in folklore playing the part of our fox. It was conspicuously pregnant and passed unconcernedly just back of the tent. As the flesh is a favourite food of both Dayaks and Malays they immediately gave chase, shouting and trying to surround it, which made the plandok turn back; then the wonderfully agile Saputan chief darted after it and actually caught it alive. Extraordinary agility is characteristic of most Dayaks. An army officer in his report of the Katingans describes how a Dayak "suddenly jumped overboard, drew his parang, and with one stroke cut a fish through the middle. Before we knew what had happened the material for our supper was on board." After a pleasant drifting down the current of the Kasao River, about noon on April 7 we arrived at Data Láong, a Saputan kampong consisting of three small communal houses. On the river bank a small space had been cleared of grass for my tent. The people seemed very amenable to my purposes and there was a primitive atmosphere at the place. We had used seventeen days from Tamaloë, much in excess of the time calculated, but under unfavourable circumstances we might easily have used double. There was reason to be satisfied at arriving here safely without having incurred any losses. We could look forward with confidence to the remainder of the journey, mainly down the great Mahakam River, toward distant Samarinda, because the Dayaks along the route were very numerous and had plenty of prahus. CHAPTER XIX THE SAPUTANS--HOW THE EARS OF THE CHIEF WERE PIERCED--AN UNEXPECTED ATTACK OF FILARIASIS--DEPARTURE FROM THE SAPUTANS--DOWN THE KASAO RIVER-- "TOBOGGANING" THE KIHAMS The Penyahbongs, men of the jungle, who left us to return home, had not proved such good workers as the Saputans, who, though in a pronounced degree smaller, mostly below medium size, are very strongly built. The first named, nevertheless, are their superiors both physically and morally. The more homely-looking Saputans, though friendly and willing to assist you, try to gain an advantage in bargaining. They set high prices on all things purchased from them and cheat if permitted to do so. Although no case of actual stealing came to my notice, they are dishonest, untruthful, and less intelligent than the tribes hitherto met. The chiefs from two neighbouring kampongs paid us visits, and they and their men made a somewhat better impression, besides having less skin disease. The Saputans are a crude and somewhat coarse people who formerly lived in caves in the mountains further east, between the Mahakam and the Murung (Barito) Rivers, and migrated here less than a hundred years ago. Lidju, a Long-Glat raja from Batokelau, who at one time was my interpreter and assistant, told me that the Saputans had made a contract with his grandfather to take them to the Kasao. This report was confirmed by the kapala of Batokelau. The Saputans probably do not number over 500 all told. The custom of cutting the teeth, eight in upper front and six in the lower jaw, is observed to some extent, but is not regularly practised. Both sexes have shrill, sharp voices. The men admire women who have long hair, light yellow skin, and long extension of the ear-lobes. The women like men to be strong and brave on headhunting expeditions. Suicide is very rare. They may use ipoh or tuba for the purpose. All animals are eaten without restriction. The men are good hunters and know how to kill the tiger-cat with sumpitan or spear. They also make good, large mats from split rattan, which are spread on the floor, partly covering it. The women make mats from palm leaves, and when the Saputans are preparing for the night's rest the latter kind is unrolled over the rattan variety. Formerly sumpitans were made in sufficient number, but the art of the blacksmith has almost died out, only one remaining at the present time, and most of the sumpitans are bought from the Bukats on the Mahakam River. There appear to be more men than women in the tribe. Children are wanted, and though the usual number in a family is four, sometimes there is only one. There are no restrictions in diet for a pregnant woman beyond the prohibition of eating of other people's food. Only when the chief has a wedding is there any festival, which consists in eating. There is no marriage ceremony, but having secured the girl's consent and paid her father and mother the young man simply goes to her mat. They then remain two days in the house, because they are afraid of the omen birds. On the third day both go to fetch water from the river and she begins to husk rice. Monogamy is practised, only the chief being allowed to have five or more wives. The very enterprising kapala of Data Láong, to the displeasure of his first wife, recently had acquired a second, the daughter of a Penihing chief. While the payment of a parang may be sufficient to secure a wife from among the kampong people, a chiefs daughter is worth ten gongs, and in order to raise the money necessary to obtain the gongs he set all the men of the kampong to work, gathering rattan, for one month. Though each of them received something for his labour, it was less than one-fourth of the amount accruing from the sale of the product, leaving him sufficient to pay the price demanded for the new bride. In Long Iram a gong may be bought for f. 30-80, and for purposes of comparison the fact is mentioned that a Malay usually is required to pay f. 60 to the girl's father to insure his consent to the marriage. April was rainy, with frequent showers day and night, and thunder was heard every evening. Life there was the same as in most Dayak kampongs, nearly all the people being absent during the day at the ladangs, and in the evening they bring home the roots of the calladium, or other edible roots and plants, which are cooked for food. The paddi had been harvested, but the crop was poor, and therefore they had made no feast. There is no dancing here except war dances. For a generation they have been gathering rubber, taking it far down the Mahakam to be sold. Of late years rubber has nearly disappeared in these parts, so they have turned their attention to rattan. One day a man was seen running with a sumpitan after a dog that had hydrophobia, and which repeatedly passed my tent. The apparent attempt to kill the animal was not genuine. He was vainly trying to catch it that he might tie its legs and throw it into the river, because the people believe that the shedding of a dog's blood would surely result in misfortune to their health or crops. After three days the dog disappeared. In Data Láong few were those men, women, and children who had not some form of the skin diseases usual among the Dayaks, which were rendered still more repugnant by their habit of scratching until the skin bleeds. A man and wife whose skin looked dry and dead, the whole body exhibiting a whitish colour, one day came to my tent. Standing, or crouching, before the tent opening they formed a most offensive picture, vigorously scratching themselves, while particles of dead skin dropped in such quantity that after some minutes the ground actually showed an accumulation resembling snow. They were accompanied by a twelve-year-old daughter who, strange to say, had a perfectly clean skin. The belief about disease and its cure is identical with that of other tribes I have met. The evil antohs are believed to be very numerous in the mountainous region at the headwaters of the Kasao River, from whence they visit the kampongs, though only the blians are able to see them. The dead person is given new garments and the body is placed in a wooden box made of boards tied together, which is carried to a cave in the mountains, three days' travel from Data Laong. There are many caves on the steep mountain-side and each kampong has its own. The Saputans were shy about being photographed, but their objections could be overcome by payments of coin. The kapala, always alive to the value of money, set the example by consenting to pose with his family for a consideration of one florin to each. But the risks incurred, of the usual kinds hitherto described, were believed to be so great that even the sum of ten florins was asked as reward in the case of a single man. A prominent man from another kampong was preparing to make holes through the ears of the kapala, and for a compensation I was permitted to photograph the operation, which is an important one. It is the privilege of chiefs and men who have taken heads to wear a tiger-cat's corner tooth inserted in a hole in the upper part of each ear. The operation must not be performed when the man in question has a small child. Surrounded by four men, the kapala seated himself on the stump of a tree. The hair was first cut away above the ears, a long board was placed upright behind and against his right ear, and the operator adjusted his tool--an empty rifle cartridge of small calibre, which was encased in the end of a small piece of wood. After having carefully ascertained that all was in order he struck the tool, using a loose axe-head with sure hand, two or three times. The supporting board was removed and a bamboo cylinder of exactly the same size as the empty cartridge, which was held in readiness, was immediately put into the hole. The round piece of cartilage which had been cut out was taken care of, lest it be eaten by a dog and cause illness. Blood streamed profusely from the ear, and, strange to tell, the robust man looked as if he were going to faint. The four assistants closed round him, stroking his arms, and he attempted to rise, but had to resume his seat. Usually nothing untoward happens at such operations, but in this case an evil antoh had taken possession of the kapala and was eating blood from the wound. The principal blian was hastily sent for, and arriving promptly, proceeded to relieve the suffering kapala. He clapped his hands over the ear, and, withdrawing, opened them twice in quick succession, then, after a similar third effort, a fair-sized stone (less than a centimetre in diameter) was produced and thrown into the river. Slight rain began to fall, and the scene was brought to a dramatic conclusion by the exhausted chief being ignominiously carried away on the back of a strong young man. At the house another stone was produced by the same sleight-of-hand, but more strenuous measures had to be adopted in order to remedy the uncanny incident. A pig was brought up into the room, where blood from its throat was collected. Part of it was smeared on the kapala, and part was mixed with uncooked rice as a sacrifice to some good antoh, who is called upon to drive the evil one away. Outside on the river bank four stalks of bamboo, which had branches and leaves at the top, were placed in a slanting position. From the stems of these were hung two diminutive bamboo receptacles made in the form of square, stiff mats, on which was placed the mixture of rice and blood for the antoh to eat. Also suspended were two short pieces of bamboo cut open lengthwise so as to form two small troughs, into which a little blood was poured for the same supernatural power to drink. When all this had been made ready the old blian, accompanied by two young pupils, took position before the sacrifice. For about ten minutes he spoke, with his face to the south, requesting a good antoh to come and the evil one to depart, after which he, the young men, and the kapala, who stood near, all repeatedly threw up rice in a southerly direction. This was done in expectation that the good antoh, having eaten of the sacrifice, would feel disposed to drive the bad one away. In the middle of April I was seized with an attack of filariasis, a disorder caused by the sting of a certain kind of mosquito. During the day I had felt pain in the glands of the loins, which were swollen, without giving the matter any particular attention. As I am not in the habit of being ill, in fact, so far had prided myself on growing younger each year, this experience of suddenly becoming very weak and miserable was most unexpected. Vomiting set in, so I went immediately to bed, and slept soundly during the night and also most of the next day, when I found myself with an extremely high fever, much more severe than that which accompanies malaria, a pernicious form of which I once passed through on the west coast of Mexico. Until many months afterward I did not know the nature of my disorder, but resorted to the simple remedy always available--to stop eating, as Japanese soldiers are reported to do when wounded. On the fourth day the fever abated, after which improvement was rapid. Two days later my general condition was fair, although the lower part of the right leg, especially about the ankle, was red and swollen. I soon felt completely restored in spite of the fact that a painless swelling of the ankle remained. Two months later I had another attack, as sudden and unexpected as the first. This was ushered in by a chill exactly like that preceding malaria, but the fever that followed was less severe than on the former occasion, and in a few days I was well again. More than a year afterward hypodermic injections of sodium cacodylate were attempted with apparent success, though the swellings continued. Many months later an improvement in the condition of the leg was gradually brought about, to which perhaps a liberal consumption of oranges separate from meals, largely contributed. This affection is not common in Borneo. A native authority in Kasungan, on the Katingan River in South Borneo, himself a Kahayan, told me of a remedy by which he and eight other natives had been completely cured. It is a diffusion from three kinds of plants, applied externally, samples of which I took. On the last day of April we were able to continue our journey down the Kasao River, in seven prahus with twenty-eight men, twenty-four of whom were Penihings, who, with their raja, as the chiefs are called on the Mahakam, had arrived from below by appointment. Owing to my recent distressing experience I was not sorry to say farewell to Data Laong, where the women and children were afraid of me to the last, on account of my desire to have them photographed. The Saputans are kind, but their intellect is of a low order, and the unusual prevalence of skin disease renders them unattractive though always interesting subjects. A glorious morning! The river, running high and of a dirty yellowish-green colour, carried us swiftly with the current in the cool atmosphere of the morning mist which the sun gradually cleared away. Repeatedly, though for a few moments only, an enchanting fragrance was wafted to me from large, funnel-shaped, fleshy white flowers with violet longitudinal stripes that covered one of the numerous varieties of trees on our way. Many blossoms had fallen into the water and floated on the current with us. It was a pleasure to have again real Dayak paddlers, which I had not had since my travels in the Bultmgan. We dashed through the tall waves of many smaller rapids and suddenly, while I was having breakfast, which to save time is always taken in the prahus, I found myself near what appeared to be a rapidly declining kiham. A fathomless abyss seemed yawning before us, although the approach thereto was enticing, as the rushing waters turned into white foam and played in the strong sunlight. We passed a timid prahu which was waiting at one side of the course, but had I desired to do so there was no time to stop my prahu. That might have meant calamity, for we were already within a few seconds of the rushing, turbulent waters. So down we went, with a delightful sensation of dancing, falling water, strong sunlight, and the indescribable freshness and swiftness of it all. The Penihing at the bow looked back at me and nodded with a satisfied expression on his countenance, as if to say: "That was well done." There were kihams after kihams to be passed; at one place where the rapids were long, from twelve to eighteen men helped to direct each prahu with rattan ropes, preventing it from going where the water was deep and the waves ran high. But my men, who appeared to be skilful, evidently decided not to depend on the rattan but steered deliberately out into the deep water; the prahu began to move swiftly, and, tossed by the big waves, the large tins and boxes were shaken about and threatened to fall overboard. The bundle of one of the Dayaks actually dropped into the water. There were only four men in the prahu, and the one at the bow, on whom so much depends for safety, seeing that it was his bundle, immediately jumped after it, leaving the boat to its fate. Luckily there was no reason for the others to do likewise, and I escaped with drenched legs and a wet kodak. New kihams soon compelled us to take out half the load and make double trips, which proved slow and tedious work. I sat on the rocks waiting, and ate luncheon, which consisted of one small tin of macquerel in oil, put up in France, very convenient for travelling. In front of me on the other side of the river a lonely Malay was working eagerly, trying to float a big bundle of rattan which had lodged in the midst of a waterfall against a large stone, and which finally he succeeded in loosening. Suddenly it floated, and as suddenly he leaped upon it, riding astride it down the foaming waters. The prospect for some smooth sailing now appeared favourable, but scarcely had I made myself comfortable, lying down in my prahu, before I was drenched by furious waves into which we had plunged. We soon got out of them, however, and continued our swift travel downward. In the distance most of our prahus could be seen in a calm inlet on the other side, where Mr. Loing was awaiting our arrival; but my men continued on their course. In a few seconds we entered the boiling waves of the rapids, down which we went at thrilling speed. We literally jumped a small waterfall, then, sharply turning to the left, passed another. More than a third of the boat was in the air as we leaped over it. The Dayaks stand in the prahu and every nerve is at full tension. The man at the bow shouts and warns. They are daring, but manage to avoid the hidden rocks with which the course of the river is studded, now steering slightly to the left, now more to the right. Thirty or fifty centimetres one way or the other may make all the difference between safety and disaster. Three men in a small prahu which follows immediately behind, seeing that they cannot avoid dashing against a rock, jump overboard, pull the boat out of its course, and save it. Ahead was another turn in the river where the third kiham in succession awaited us, and after some moments of comparative quiet we again dashed down into turbulent waves, and making a swift turn to the right on a downward grade glided into smoother waters. The excitement was over and the experience had been as delightful as it was unexpected. It reminded one of tobogganing in Norway and was great fun, although the enjoyment was always mingled with feelings of anxiety concerning the cameras and instruments. The luggage was unloaded from the prahus which were waiting at the head of the last rapids, and was carried on the backs of natives who afterward took the empty boats down. Although the men had worked incessantly for nine hours, on the advice of the chief it was decided to proceed to Samariting, the first Penihing kampong. Half the goods was stored near the beach, to be called for the following day, and the now comfortably loaded prahus made ready for the descent of the next rapids, which he said were risky. He therefore was going to walk himself and advised us to do likewise. Rain began to fall. On the high river bank I waited to see them off. The first prahu had to return and take another course; the men all seemed to be hesitating. Finally it made a fresh dash forward. Near the end of the long rapids it almost disappeared from view, appeared again, steering first to right then rapidly to left again. There was the dangerous place, and having in this manner seen most of them pass successfully, I walked on and shortly afterward boarded my prahu, which carried us swiftly down to Samariting. The river bank on which the kampong is built is lower than usual, and the place is clean and attractive. All the people look strikingly more healthy than the Saputans, and I saw a few very nice-looking young girls. The men swarmed round me like bees, all wanting in a most amiable way to help put up my tent. During the day I had lost the cover of my red kettle--annoying enough when it cannot by any means be replaced--but even a more serious loss would have been compensated by the delightful experience of the day, which was without other mishaps. Our goods having been safely brought in, the next day about noon we started in fully loaded prahus. All went well with the exception of one of the smaller boats which, timidly working down along the bank, suddenly turned over and subsided on a rock. The men did their best to save the contents, the rapid current making it impossible for us to stop until we were a hundred metres further down, where the Dayaks made ready to gether up boxes and other articles that came floating on the current. Nothing was lost, but everything got wet. CHAPTER XX ARRIVAL ON THE MAHAKAM RIVER--AMONG THE PENIHINGS--LONG KAI, A PLEASANT PLACE--A BLIANAS SHIELD--PUNANS AND BUKATS, SIMPLE-MINDED NOMADS--EXTREME PENALTY FOR UNFAITHFULNESS--LONG TJEHAN A few minutes later we came in sight of the Mahakam River. At this point it is only forty to fifty metres wide, and the placid stream presented a fine view, with surrounding hills in the distance. In the region of the Upper Mahakam River, above the rapids, where we had now arrived, it is estimated there are living nearly 10,000 Dayaks of various tribes, recognised under the general name Bahau, which they also employ themselves, besides their tribal names. The first European to enter the Mahakam district was the Dutch ethnologist, Doctor A.W. Nieuwenhuis, at the end of the last century. He came from the West, and in addition to scientific research his mission was political, seeking by peaceful means to win the natives to Dutch allegiance. In this he succeeded, though not without difficulty and danger. Although he was considerate and generous, the Penihing chief Blarey, apprehensive of coming evil, twice tried to kill him, a fact of which the doctor probably was not aware at the time. Kwing Iran, the extraordinary Kayan chief, knew of it and evidently prevented the plan from being executed. Blarey did not like to have Europeans come to that country, which belonged to the natives, as he expressed it. The Penihing kampong, Sungei Lobang, was soon reached. It is newly made, in accordance with the habit of the Dayaks to change the location of their villages every fourteen or fifteen years, and lies on a high bank, or rather a mud-ridge, which falls steeply down on all sides. It was the residence of the chief and the Penihings who brought us here, and if conditions proved favourable I was prepared to make a stay of several weeks in this populous kampong, which consists of several long, well-constructed buildings. The Dayaks assisted in putting up my tent, and of their own accord made a low palisade of bamboo sticks all around it as protection against the roaming pigs and dogs of the place. It proved of excellent service, also keeping away the obnoxious fowls, and during the remainder of my travels this measure of security, which I adopted, added considerably to my comfort. On receiving their payment in the evening the Dayaks went away in bad humour because they had expected that such a tuan besar as I was would give them more than the usual wages allowed when serving the Company, as the government is called. This tuan, they said, had plenty of money to boang (throw) away, and he had also a good heart. Otherwise, however, these natives were kindly disposed and more attractive than either of the two tribes last visited. In husking rice the Penyahbongs, Saputans, and Penihings have the same method of gathering the grains back again under the pestle with the hands instead of with the feet, as is the custom of the Kenyahs and Kayans. All day there were brought for sale objects of ethnography, also beetles, animals, and birds. Two attractive young girls sold me their primitive necklaces, consisting of small pieces of the stalks of different plants, some of them odoriferous, threaded on a string. One girl insisted that I put hers on and wear it, the idea that it might serve any purpose other than to adorn the neck never occurring to them. Two men arrived from Nohacilat, a neighbouring kampong, to sell two pieces of aboriginal wearing apparel, a tunic and a skirt. Such articles are very plentiful down there, they said, and offered them at an astonishingly reasonable price. Malay is not spoken here, and we got on as best we could--nevertheless the want of an interpreter was seriously felt. The chief himself spoke some and might have served fairly well, but he studiously remained away from me, and even took most of the men from the kampong to make prahus at another place. I was told that he was afraid of me, and certainly his behaviour was puzzling. Three months later I was enlightened on this point by the information that he had been arrested on account of the murder by spear of a woman and two men, a most unusual occurrence among Dayaks, who, as a rule, never kill any one in their own tribe. With the kampong well-nigh deserted, it soon became evident that nothing was to be gained by remaining and that I would better change the scene of my activities to Long Kai, another Penihing kampong further down the river. A small garrison had been established there, and by sending a message we secured prahus and men, which enabled us to depart from our present encampment. There were some rapids to pass in which our collector of animals and birds nearly had his prahu swamped, and although it was filled with water, owing to his pluck nothing was lost. At Long Kai the lieutenant and Mr. Loing put up a long shed of tent material, while I placed my tent near friendly trees, at the end of a broad piece of road on the river bank, far enough from the kampong to avoid its noises and near enough to the river to enjoy its pleasant murmur. When going to their ladangs in the morning the Dayaks passed my tent, thence following the tiny affluent, Kai, from which the kampong received its name. Under the trees I often had interviews with the Penihings, and also with the nomadic Bukats and Punans who had formed settlements in the neighbouring country. Some of them came of their own accord, others were called by Tingang, the kapala of Long Kai, who did good service as interpreter, speaking Malay fairly well. From my tent I had a beautiful view of the river flowing between wooded hills, and the air was often laden with the same delicious fragrance from the bloom of a species of trees which I had observed on the Kasao River. Here, however, the odour lasted hours at a time, especially morning and evening. On the hills of the locality grow many sago palms, to which the natives resort in case rice is scarce. It was quite agreeable to see a flag again, the symbol of the Dutch nation being hoisted every day on the hill where the military encampment was located, usually called benting (fortress). Even the striking of a bell every half-hour seemed acceptable as a reminder of civilisation. The soldiers were natives, mostly Javanese. The lieutenant, Th. F.J. Metsers, was an amiable and courteous man who loaned me Dutch newspapers, which, though naturally months out of date, nevertheless were much appreciated. We were about 1° north of equator and usually had beautiful, clear nights in the month of May. The Great Bear of the northern hemisphere was visible above the horizon and the planet Venus looked large and impressive. There were no mosquitoes and the air was fine, but at times the heat of the day was considerable, especially before showers. After two days of very warm weather without rain ominous dark clouds gathered in the west, and half an hour later we were in the thick of a downpour and mist which looked as if it might continue for days. But in inland Borneo one knows a rainstorm will soon belong to the past. Two hours later the storm abated and before sunset all was over, and the night came again clear and glorious. One afternoon seven prahus with thirty-odd Dayaks were seen to arrive from down the river, poling their way. They were Kayans from Long Blu, en route for the Upper Kasao to gather rattan. Some of them called on me and evidently already knew of the expedition. They carried only rice as provisions and told me they intended to be away three months. On the Upper Kasao there is no more rubber to be found, and, according to them, on the upper part of Mahakam there is no more rattan. The Penihings of Long Kai are good-natured and pleasant, and it was refreshing to be among real, natural people to whom it never occurs that nudity is cause for shame; whom the teaching of the Mohammedan Malays, of covering the upper body, has not yet reached. This unconsciousness of evil made even the old, hard-working women attractive. They were eager to sell me their wares and implements, and hardly left me time to eat. Their houses had good galleries and were more spacious than one would suppose from a casual glance. One morning I entered the rooms of one of the principal blians, from whom I wanted to buy his shield, used as a musical instrument to accompany his song. The shield looks like the ordinary variety used by all the tribes of the Mahakam and also in Southern Borneo, but has from four to ten rattan strings tied lengthwise on the back. In singing to call good spirits, antohs, especially in case somebody is ill, he constantly beats with a stick on one of the strings in a monotonous way without any change of time. Among the Penihings this shield is specially made for the blian's use, and unless it be new and unused he will not sell it, because the blood of sacrificial animals has been smeared on its surface and the patient would die. The only way I could secure one was by having it made for me, which a blian is quite willing to do. This man paid little attention to my suggestion of buying, but suddenly, of his own accord, he seized the shield and played on it to show me how it was done. While he sings he keeps his head down behind the shield, which is held in upright position, and he strikes either with right or left hand. He had scarcely performed a minute when a change came over him. He stamped one foot violently upon the floor, ceased playing, and seemed to be in a kind of trance, but recovered himself quickly. A good antoh, one of several who possessed him, had returned to him after an absence and had entered through the top of his head. So strong is the force of auto-suggestion. It was a matter of considerable interest to me to meet here representatives of two nomadic tribes of Borneo who had formed small settlements in this remote region. I had already made the acquaintance of the Punans in the Bulungan, but as they are very shy I welcomed the opportunity of meeting them on more familiar terms. For more than a generation a small number has been settled at Serrata, six hours walking distance from Long Kai. The other nomads, called Bukats, from the mountains around the headwaters of the Mahakam, have lately established themselves on the river a short distance above its junction with the Kasao; a few also live in the Penihing kampong Nuncilao. These recent converts from nomadic life still raise little paddi, depending mostly upon sago. Through the good offices of the Long Kai kapala people of both tribes were sent for and promptly answered the call. The Punan visitors had a kapala who also was a blian, and they had a female blian too, as had the Bukats. The Punans are simple-minded, shy, and retiring people, and the other nomads even more so. The first-named are more attractive on account of their superior physique, their candid manners, and somewhat higher intellect. The natural food of both peoples is serpents, lizards, and all kinds of animals and birds, the crocodile and omen birds excepted. With the Bukats, rusa must not be eaten unless one has a child, but with the Punans it is permissible in any case. The meat of pig is often eaten when ten days old, and is preferred to that which is fresh. In this they share the taste of the Dayak tribes I have met, with the exception of the Long-Glats. I have known the odour from putrefying pork to be quite overpowering in a kampong, and still this meat is eaten without any ill effect. Salt is not used unless introduced by Malay traders. And evidently it was formerly not known to the Dayaks. None of these jungle people steal and they do not lie, although children may do either. They were much afraid of being photographed and most of the Bukats declined. A Bukat woman had tears in her eyes as she stepped forward to be measured, but smiled happily when receiving her rewards of salt, tobacco, and a red handkerchief. It had been worth while to submit to the strange ways of the foreigner. Both tribes are strictly monogamous and distinguished by the severe view they take of adultery, which, however, seldom occurs. While it is regarded as absolutely no detriment to a young girl to sleep with a young man, matrimonial unfaithfulness is relentlessly punished. Payment of damages is impossible. The injured Punan husband cuts the head from both wife and corespondent and retires to solitude, remaining away for a long time, up to two years. If the husband fails to punish, then the woman's brother must perform the duty of executioner. The Bukats are even more severe. The husband of an erring wife must kill her by cutting off her head, and it is incumbent on her brother to take the head of the husband. At present the Punans and Bukats are relinquishing these customs through fear of the Company. The Bukats told me that they originally came from the river Blatei in Sarawak, and that Iban raids had had much to do with their movements. According to their reports the tribe had recently, at the invitation of the government, left the mountains and formed several kampongs in the western division. One of them, with short stubby fingers, had a broad Mongolian face and prominent cheek-bones, but not Mongolian eyes, reminding me somewhat of a Laplander. The Punans and the Bukats have not yet learned to make prahus, but they are experts in the manufacture of sumpitans. They are also clever at mat-making, the men bringing the rattan and the women making the mats. Cutting of the teeth is optional. The gall of the bear is used as medicine internally and externally. In case of fractured bones a crude bandage is made from bamboo sticks with leaves from a certain tree. For curing disease the Punans use strokes of the hand. Neither of these nomadic tribes allow a man present when a woman bears a child. After child-birth women abstain from work four days. When anybody dies the people flee, leaving the corpse to its fate. Having accomplished as much as circumstances permitted, in the latter part of May we changed our encampment to Long Tjehan, the principal kampong of the Penihings, a little further down the river. On a favourable current the transfer was quickly accomplished. We were received by friendly natives, who came voluntarily to assist in putting up my tent, laying poles on the moist ground, on which the boxes were placed inside. They also made a palisade around it as they had seen it done in Long Kai, for the Dayaks are very adaptable people. Several men here had been to New Guinea and they expressed no desire to return, because there had been much work, and much beri-beri from which some of their comrades had died. One of them had assisted in bringing Doctor Lorenz back after his unfortunate fall down the ravine on Wilhelmina Top. CHAPTER XXI AN EXCURSION DOWN THE RIVER--LONG PAHANGEI--THE OMA-SULINGS--THE GREAT TRIENNIAL FESTIVAL--HOSPITABLE NATIVES--INCIDENTS IN PHOTOGRAPHY It is significant as to the relations of the tribes that not only Bukats and Punans, but also the Saputans, are invited to take part in a great triennial Bahau festival when given at Long Tjehan. Shortly after our arrival we were advised that this great feast, which here is called tasa and which lasts ten days, was to come off immediately at an Oma-Suling kampong, Long Pahangei, further down the river. Though a journey there might be accomplished in one day, down with the current, three or four times as long would be required for the return. However, as another chance to see such a festival probably would not occur, I decided to go, leaving the sergeant, the soldier collector, and another soldier behind, and two days later we were preparing for departure in three prahus. What with making light shelters against sun and rain, in Malay called atap, usually erected for long journeys, the placing of split bamboo sticks in the bottom of my prahu, and with the Penihings evidently unaccustomed to such work, it was eight o'clock before the start was made. Pani, a small tributary forming the boundary between the Penihings and the Kayans, was soon left behind and two hours later we passed Long Blu, the great Kayan kampong. The weather was superb and the current carried us swiftly along. The great Mahakam River presented several fine, extensive views, with hills on either side, thick white clouds moving slowly over the blue sky. As soon as we entered the country of the Oma-Suling it was pleasant to observe that the humble cottages of the ladangs had finely carved wooden ornaments standing out from each gable. We arrived at Long Pahangei (_h_ pronounced as Spanish jota) early in the afternoon. Gongs were sounding, but very few people were there, and no visitors at all, although this was the first day of the feast. This is a large kampong lying at the mouth of a tributary of the same name, and is the residence of a native district kapala. After I had searched everywhere for a quiet spot he showed me a location in a clump of jungle along the river bank which, when cleared, made a suitable place for my tent. Our Penihings were all eager to help, some clearing the jungle, others bringing up the goods as well as cutting poles and bamboo sticks. Evidently they enjoyed the work, pitching into it with much gusto and interest. The result was a nice though limited camping place on a narrow ridge, and I gave each man one stick of tobacco as extra payment. During our stay here much rain fell in steady downpours lasting a night or half a day. As the same condition existed higher up the river, at times the water rose menacingly near my tent, and for one night I had to move away. But rain in these tropics is never merciless, it seems to me. Back from the coast there is seldom any wind, and in the knowledge that at any time the clouds may give place to brilliant sunshine, it is not at all depressing. Of course it is better to avoid getting wet through, but when this occurs little concern is felt, because one's clothing dries so quickly. The Oma-Sulings are pleasant to deal with, being bashful and unspoiled. The usual repulsive skin diseases are seldom seen, and the women are attractive. There appears to have been, and still is, much intercourse between the Oma-Sulings and their equally pleasant neighbours to the east, the Long-Glats. Many of the latter came to the feast and there is much intermarrying among the nobles of the two tribes. Lidju, my assistant and friend here, was a noble of the Long-Glats with the title of raja and married a sister of the great chief of the Oma-Sulings. She was the principal of the numerous female blians of the kampong, slender of figure, active both in her profession and in domestic affairs, and always very courteous. They had no children. Although he did not speak Malay very well, still, owing to his earnestness of purpose, Lidju was of considerable assistance to me. The kampong consists of several long houses of the usual Dayak style, lying in a row and following the river course, but here they were separated into two groups with a brook winding its way to the river between them. Very large drums, nearly four metres long, hung on the wall of the galleries, six in one house, with the head somewhat higher than the other end. This instrument, slightly conical in shape, is formed from a log of fine-grained wood, light in colour, with a cover made from wild ox hide. An especially constructed iron tool driven by blows from a small club is used to hollow out the log, and the drum is usually completed in a single night, many men taking turns. In one part of the house lying furthest west lived Dayaks called Oma-Palo, who were reported to have been in this tribe a hundred years. They occupied "eight doors," while further on, in quarters comprising "five doors," dwelt Oma-Tepe, more recent arrivals; and both clans have married Oma-Suling women. The purpose of the great feast that filled everybody's thoughts is to obtain many children, a plentiful harvest, good health, many pigs, and much fruit. A prominent Dayak said to me: "If we did not have this feast there would not be many children; the paddi would not ripen well, or would fail; wild beasts would eat the fowls, and there would be no bananas or other fruits." The first four days are chiefly taken up with preparations, the festival occurring on the fifth and sixth days. A place of worship adjoining the front of the easternmost house was being constructed, with a floor high above ground on a level with the gallery, with which it was connected by a couple of planks for a bridge. Although flimsily built, the structure was abundantly strong to support the combined weight of the eight female blians who at times performed therein. The hut, which was profusely decorated with long, hanging wood shavings, is called dangei and is an important adjunct of the feast, to which the same name is sometimes given. Ordinary people are not allowed to enter, though they may ascend the ladder, giving access to the gallery, in close proximity to the sanctuary. Prior to the fifth day a progressive scale is observed in regard to food regulations, and after the sixth, when the festive high mark is reached, there is a corresponding decrease to normal. Only a little boiled rice is eaten the first day, but on the second, third, and fourth, rations are gradually increased by limited additions of toasted rice. The fifth and sixth days give occasion for indulgence in much rice and pork, the quantity being reduced on the seventh, when the remaining pork is finished. On the eighth and ninth days the regulations permit only boiled and toasted rice. Not much food remains on the tenth, when the menu reverts to boiled rice exclusively. Some kinds of fish may be eaten during the ten-day period, while others are prohibited. It was interesting to observe what an important part the female blians or priest-doctors played at the festival. They were much in evidence and managed the ceremonies. The men of the profession kept in the background and hardly one was seen. During the feast they abstain from bathing for eight days, do not eat the meat of wild babi, nor salt; and continence is the rule. Every day of the festival, morning, afternoon, and evening, a service is performed for imparting health and strength, called melah, of which the children appear to be the chief beneficiaries. Mothers bring babes in cradles on their backs, as well as their larger children. The blian, who must be female, seizing the mother's right hand with her left, repeatedly passes the blade of a big knife up her arm. The child in the cradle also stretches out its right arm to receive treatment, while other children and women place their right hands on the hand and arm of the first woman, five to ten individuals thus simultaneously receiving the passes which the blian dispenses from left to right. She accompanies the ceremony with murmured expressions suggesting removal from the body of all that is evil, with exhortations to improvement, etc. This service concluded, a man standing in the background holding a shield with the inside uppermost, advances to the side of the mother and places it horizontally under the cradle, where it is rapidly moved forward and backward. Some of the men also presented themselves for treatment after the manner above described, and although the melah performance is usually reserved for this great feast, it may be employed by the blian for nightly service in curing disease. This was followed by a dance of the blians present, nine or ten in number, to the accompaniment of four gongs and one drum. They moved in single file, most of them making two steps and a slight turn to left, two steps and a slight turn to right, while others moved straight on. In this way they described a drawn-out circle, approaching an ellipse, sixteen times. After the dancing those who took part in the ceremonies ate toasted rice. Each day of the feast in the afternoon food was given to antoh by blians and girl pupils. Boiled rice, a small quantity of salt, some dried fish, and boiled fowl were wrapped in pieces of banana leaves, and two such small parcels were offered on each occasion. Meantime the festive preparations continued. Many loads of bamboo were brought in, because much rice and much pork was to be cooked in these handy utensils provided by nature. Visitors were slowly but steadily arriving. On the fourth day came the principal man, the Raja Besar (great chief), who resides a little further up the river, accompanied by his family. The son of a Long-Glat father and an Oma-Suling mother, Ledjuli claimed to be raja not only of these tribes, but also of the Kayans. Next morning Raja Besar and his stately wife, of Oma-Suling nobility, accompanied by the kapala of the kampong and others, paid me a visit, presenting me with a long sugarcane, a somewhat rare product in these parts and considered a great delicacy, one large papaya, white onions, and bananas. In return I gave one cake of chocolate, two French tins of meat, one tin of boiled ham, and tobacco. Domestic pigs, of which the kampong possessed over a hundred, at last began to come in from the outlying ladangs. One by one they were carried alive on the backs of men. The feet having first been tied together, the animal was enclosed in a coarse network of rattan or fibre. For the smaller specimens tiny, close-fitting bamboo boxes had been made, pointed at one end to accommodate the snout. The live bundles were deposited on the galleries, and on the fifth day they were lying in rows and heaps, sixty-six in number, awaiting their ultimate destiny. The festival was now about to begin in earnest and an air of expectancy was evident in the faces of the natives. After the performance of the melah and the dance of the blians, and these were a daily feature of the great occasion, a dance hitherto in vogue at night was danced in the afternoon. In this the people, in single file, moved very slowly with rhythmic steps, describing a circle around three blians, including the principal one, who sat smoking in the centre, with some bamboo baskets near by. Next morning the circular dance was repeated, with the difference that the participants were holding on to a rope. About four o'clock in the afternoon the Dayaks began to kill the pigs by cutting the artery of the neck. The animals, which were in surprisingly good condition, made little outcry. The livers were examined, and if found to be of bad omen were thrown away, but the pig itself is eaten in such cases, though a full-grown fowl or a tiny chicken only a few days old must be sacrificed in addition. The carcasses were freed from hair by fire in the usual way and afterward cleaned with the knife. The skin is eaten with the meat, which at night was cooked in bamboo. Outside, in front of the houses, rice cooking had been going on all day. In one row there were perhaps fifty bamboos, each stuffed with envelopes of banana leaves containing rice, the parcels being some thirty centimetres long and three wide. During the night there was a grand banquet in all the houses. Lidju, my assistant, did not forget, on this day of plenty, to send my party generous gifts of fresh pork. To me he presented a fine small ham. As salt had been left behind we had to boil the meat à la Dayak in bamboo with very little water, which compensates for the absence of seasoning. A couple of men brought us two bamboos containing that gelatinous delicacy into which rice is transformed when cooked in this way. And, as if this were not enough, early next morning a procession arrived carrying food on two shields, the inside being turned upward. On these were parcels wrapped in banana leaves containing boiled rice, to which were tied large pieces of cooked pork. The first man to appear stepped up to a banana growing near, broke off a leaf which he put on the ground in front of me, and placed on it two bundles. The men were unable to speak Malay and immediately went away without making even a suggestion that they expected remuneration, as did the two who had given us rice. I had never seen them before. The sixth day was one of general rejoicing. Food was exchanged between the two groups of houses and people were in a very joyful mood, eating pork, running about, and playing tricks on each other. Both men and women carried charcoal mixed with the fat of pork, with which they tried to smear the face and upper body of all whom they met. All were privileged to engage in this sport but the women were especially active, pursuing the men, who tried to avoid them, some taking refuge behind my tent. The women followed one man through the enclosure surrounding the tent, at my invitation, but they did not succeed in catching him. This practical joking was continued on the following days except the last. The Oma-Palo had their own festival, which lasted only one day. It began in the afternoon of the sixth day and I went over to see it. The livers of the pigs were not in favourable condition, which caused much delay in the proceedings, and it was nearly five o'clock when they finally began to make a primitive dángei hut, all the material for which had been gathered. A few slim upright poles with human faces carved at the upper ends were placed so as to form the outline of a quadrangle. On the ground between them planks were laid, and on the two long sides of this space were raised bamboo stalks with leaves on, which leaned together and formed an airy cover. It was profusely adorned with wood shavings hung by the ends in long spirals, the whole arrangement forming a much simpler house of worship than the one described above. The kapala having sacrificed a tiny chicken, a man performed a war dance on the planks in superb fashion, and after that two female blians danced. Next morning I returned and asked permission to photograph the dancing. The kapala replied that if a photograph were made while they were working--that is to say, dancing--they would have to do all their work over again, otherwise some misfortune would come upon them, such as the falling of one of the bamboo stalks, which might kill somebody. Later, while they were eating, for example, there would be no objection to the accomplishment of my desire. With the eighth day an increased degree of ceremonials became noticeable, and in order to keep pace therewith I was driven to continuous activity. On a muggy, warm morning I began work by photographing the Raja Besar, who had given me permission to take himself and his family. When I arrived at the house where he was staying he quickly made his preparations to "look pleasant," removing the large rings he wore in the extended lobes of his ears and substituting a set of smaller ones, eight for each ear. He was also very particular in putting on correct apparel, whether to appear in warrior costume or as a private gentleman of the highest caste. His sword and the rest of his outfit, as might be expected, were of magnificent finish, the best of which Dayak handicraft is capable. He made altogether a splendid subject for the camera, but his family proved less satisfactory. I had to wait an hour and a half before his womenfolk were ready, femininity apparently being alike in this regard in all races. When they finally emerged from the house in great array (which showed Malay influence) they were a distinct disappointment. The raja, who was extremely obliging, ordered the principal men of the kampong to appear in complete war outfit, and showed us how an imaginary attack of Iban head-hunters would be met. They came streaming one after another down the ladder, made the evolutions of a running attack in close formation, holding their large shields in front of them, then ran to the water and paddled away, standing in their prahus, to meet the supposed enemy in the utan on the other side of the river. At noon the female blians were preparing for an important ceremony in the dángei hut, with a dance round it on the ground later, and I therefore went up to the gallery. The eight performers held each other by the hands in a circle so large that it filled the hut. Constantly waving their arms backward and forward they moved round and round. Some relics from Apo Kayan were then brought in: a small, shining gong without a knob and a very large bracelet which looked as if it had been made of bamboo and was about eight centimetres in diameter. One of the blians placed the bracelet round her folded hands and then ran round the circle as well as through it; I believe this was repeated sixteen times. When she had finished running they all walked in single file over into the gallery in order to perform the inevitable mélah. Shortly afterward followed a unique performance of throwing rice, small bundles of which, wrapped in banana leaves, were lying in readiness on the floor. Some of the men caught them with such violence that the rice was spilled all about, and then they flipped the banana leaves at those who stood near. Some of the women had crawled up under the roof in anticipation of what was coming. After a few minutes passed thus, the eight blians seated themselves in the dángei hut and prepared food for antoh in the way described above, but on this occasion one of them pounded paddi with two short bamboo sticks, singing all the while. A very amusing entertainment then began, consisting of wrestling by the young men, who were encouraged by the blians to take it up and entered the game with much enthusiasm, one or two pairs constantly dancing round and round until one became the victor. The participants of their own accord had divested themselves of their holiday chavats and put on small ones for wrestling. With the left hand the antagonist takes hold of the descending portion of the chavat in the back, while with the right he grasps the encircling chavat in front. They wrestled with much earnestness but no anger. When the game was continued the following morning the young men presented a sorry spectacle. Rain had fallen during the night, and the vanquished generally landed heavily on their backs in the mud-holes, the wrestlers joining in the general laugh at their expense. To encourage them I had promised every victor twenty cents, which added much to the interest. Having concluded their task of feeding the antohs the blians climbed down the ladder and began a march in single file round the dángei hut, each carrying one of the implements of daily life: a spear, a small parang, an axe, an empty rattan bag in which the bamboos are enclosed when the woman fetches water, or in which vegetables, etc., are conveyed, and another bag of the same material suitable for transporting babi. Four of the women carried the small knife which is woman's special instrument, though also employed by the men. When the eight blians on this, the eighth day, had marched sixteen times around the dángei they ascended the ladder again. Shortly afterward a man standing on the gallery pushed over the flimsy place of worship--a signal that the end of the feast had come. On the previous day a few visitors had departed and others left daily. The feast had brought together from other parts about 200 Oma-Sulings and Long-Glats. The women of both tribes showed strikingly fine manners, especially those belonging to the higher class, which was well represented. Some were expensively dressed, though in genuine barbaric fashion as indicated by the ornaments sewn upon their skirts, which consisted of hundreds of florins and ringits. It should be conceded, however, that with the innate artistic sense of the Dayaks, the coins, all scrupulously clean, had been employed to best advantage in pretty designs, and the damsels were strong enough to carry the extra burden. The climax had been passed and little more was going on, the ninth day being given over to the amusement of daubing each other with black paste. On the tenth day they all went away to a small river in the neighbourhood, where they took their meals, cooking paddi in bamboo, also fish in the same manner. This proceeding is called násam, and the pemáli (tabu) is now all over. During the days immediately following the people may go to the ladang, but are obliged to sleep in the kampong, and they must not undertake long journeys. When the feast ended the blians placed four eggs in the clefts of four upright bamboo sticks as sacrifice to antoh. Such eggs are gathered from hens that are sitting, and those which have become stale in unoccupied nests are also used. If there are not enough such eggs, fresh ones are taken. CHAPTER XXII DAYAK DOGS--A FUNERAL ON THE MAHAKAM--OUR RETURN JOURNEY--AGAIN AT LONG TJEHAN--IN SEARCH OF A UNIQUE ORCHID--A BURIAL CAVE Every night while we were camped here, and frequently in the day, as if controlled by magic, the numerous dogs belonging to the Dayaks suddenly began to howl in chorus. It is more ludicrous than disagreeable and is a phenomenon common to all kampongs, though I never before had experienced these manifestations in such regularity and perfection of concerted action. One or two howls are heard and immediately all canines of the kampong and neighbouring ladangs join, perhaps more than a hundred in one chorus. At a distance the noise resembles the acclamations of a vast crowd of people. The Penihings and Oma-Sulings treat man's faithful companion well, the former even with affection; and the dogs, which are of the usual type, yellowish in colour, with pointed muzzle, erect ears, and upstanding tail, are in fine condition. A trait peculiar to the Dayak variety is that he never barks at strangers, permitting them to walk on the galleries or even in the rooms without interference. Groups of these intelligent animals are always to be seen before the house and on the gallery, often in terrific fights among themselves, but never offensive to strangers. They certainly serve the Dayaks well by holding the pig or other animal at bay until the men can come up and kill it with spear. Some of them are afraid of bear, others attack them. They are very eager to board the prahus when their owners depart to the ladangs, thinking that it means a chase of the wild pig. Equally eager are they to get into the room at night, or at any time when the owner has left them outside. Doors are cleverly opened by them, but when securely locked the dogs sometimes, in their impatience, gnaw holes in the lower part of the door which look like the work of rodents, though none that I saw was large enough to admit a canine of their size. One day a big live pig was brought in from the utan over the shoulder of a strong man, its legs tied together, and as a compliment to me the brute was tethered to a pole by one leg, while the dogs, about fifty, barked at and harassed it. This, I was told, is the way they formerly were trained. As in a bull-fight, so here my sympathy was naturally with the animal, which managed to bite a dog severely in the side and shook another vigorously by the tail. Finally some young boys gave it a merciful death with spears. A woman blian died after an illness of five days, and the next forenoon a coffin was made from an old prahu. She had not been ill long, so the preparations for the funeral were brief. Early in the afternoon wailing was heard from the gallery, and a few minutes later the cortège emerged on its way to the river bank, taking a short cut over the slope between the trees, walking fast because they feared that if they lingered other people might become ill. There were only seven or eight members of the procession; most of whom acted as pall-bearers, and all were poor people. They deposited their burden on the bank, kneeling around it for a few minutes and crying mournfully. A hen had been killed at the house, but no food was offered to antoh at the place of embarkation, as had been expected by some of their neighbours. Covered with a large white cloth, the coffin was hurriedly taken down from the embankment and placed in a prahu, which they immediately proceeded to paddle down-stream where the burial was to take place in the utan some distance away. The reddish-brown waters of the Mahakam, nearly always at flood, flowed swiftly between the walls of dark jungle on either side and shone in the early afternoon sun, under a pale-blue sky, with beautiful, small, distant white clouds. Three mourners remained behind, one man standing, gazing after the craft. Then, as the prahu, now very small to the eye, approached the distant bend of the river, in a few seconds to disappear from sight, the man who had been standing in deep reflection went down to the water followed by the two women, each of whom slipped off her only garment in their usual dexterous way, and all proceeded to bathe, thus washing away all odours or other effects of contact with the corpse, which might render them liable to attack from the antoh that had killed the woman blian. In the first week of June we began our return journey against the current, arriving in the afternoon at Data Lingei, an Oma-Suling kampong said to be inhabited also by Long-Glats and three other tribes. We were very welcome here. Although I told them I did not need a bamboo palisade round my tent for one night, these hospitable people, after putting up my tent, placed round it a fence of planks which chanced to be at hand. At dusk everything was in order and I took a walk through the kampong followed by a large crowd which had been present all the time. Having told them to bring all the articles they wanted to sell, I quickly bought some good masks and a number of tail feathers from the rhinoceros hornbill, which are regarded as very valuable, being worn by the warriors in their rattan caps. All were "in the market," prices were not at all exorbitant, and business progressed very briskly until nine o'clock, when I had made valuable additions, especially of masks, to my collections. The evening passed pleasantly and profitably to all concerned. I acquired a shield which, besides the conventionalised representation of a dog, exhibited a wild-looking picture of an antoh, a very common feature on Dayak shields. The first idea it suggests to civilised man is that its purpose is to terrify the enemy, but my informant laughed at this suggestion. It represents a good antoh who keeps the owner of the shield in vigorous health. The kapala's house had at once attracted attention on account of the unusually beautiful carvings that extended from each gable, and which on a later occasion I photographed. These were long boards carved in artistic semblance of the powerful antoh called nagah, a benevolent spirit, but also a vindictive one. The two carvings together portrayed the same monster, the one showing its head and body, the other its tail. Before being placed on the gables a sacrifice had been offered and the carvings had been smeared with blood--in other words, to express the thought of the Dayak, as this antoh is very fierce when aroused to ire, it had first been given blood to eat, in order that it should not be angry with the owner of the house, but disposed to protect him from his enemies. While malevolent spirits do not associate with good ones, some which usually are beneficent at times may do harm, and among these is one, the nagah, that dominates the imagination of many Dayak tribes. It appears to be about the size of a rusa, and in form is a combination of the body of that animal and a serpent, the horned head having a disproportionately large dog's mouth. Being an antoh, and the greatest of all, it is invisible under ordinary conditions, but lives in rivers and underground caves, and it eats human beings. Lidju, who accompanied me as interpreter and to be generally useful, had aroused the men early in the morning to cook their rice, so that we could start at seven o'clock, arriving in good time at the Kayan kampong, Long Blu. Here, on the north side of the river, was formerly a small military establishment, inhabited at present by a few Malay families, the only ones on the Mahakam River above the great kihams. Accompanied by Lidju I crossed the river to see the great kampong of the Kayans. Ascending the tall ladder which leads up to the kampong, we passed through long, deserted-looking galleries, and from one a woman hurriedly retired into a room. The inhabitants were at their ladangs, most of them four hours' travel from here. Arriving finally at the house of Kwing Iran, I was met by a handful of people gathered in its cheerless, half-dark gallery. On our return to a newly erected section of the kampong we met the intelligent kapala and a few men. Some large prahus were lying on land outside the house, bound for Long Iram, where the Kayans exchange rattan and rubber for salt and other commodities, but the start had been delayed because the moon, which was in its second quarter, was not favourable. These natives are reputed to have much wang, owing to the fact that formerly they supplied rice to the garrison, receiving one ringit for each tinful. Though next day was rainy and the river high, making paddling hard work, we arrived in good time at Long Tjehan and found ourselves again among the Penihings. During the month I still remained here I made valuable ethnological collections and also acquired needed information concerning the meaning and use of the different objects, which is equally important. The chief difficulty was to find an interpreter, but an intelligent and efficient Penihing offered his services. He "had been to Soerabaia," which means that he had been at hard labour, convicted of head-hunting, and during his term had acquired a sufficient knowledge of Malay to be able to serve me. My Penihing collections I believe are complete. Of curious interest are the many games for children, among them several varieties of what might be termed toy guns and different kinds of puzzles, some of wood while others are plaited from leaves or made of thread. The kampong lies at the junction of the Mahakam and a small river called Tjehan, which, like several other affluents from the south, originates in the dividing range. The Tjehan contains two or three kihams but is easy to ascend, and at its head-waters the range presents no difficulties in crossing. This is not the case at the sources of the Blu, where the watershed is high and difficult to pass. Small parties of Malays occasionally cross over to the Mahakam at these points as well as at Pahangei. In the country surrounding the kampong are several limestone hills, the largest of which, Lung Karang, rises in the immediate vicinity. Doctor Nieuwenhuis on his journey ascended some distance up the Tjehan tributary, and in the neighbourhood of Lung Karang his native collector found an orchid which was named _phalaenopsis gigantea_, and is known only from the single specimen in the botanical garden at Buitenzorg, Java. On a visit there my attention was drawn to the unusual size of its leaves and its white flowers. I then had an interview with the Javanese who found it, and decided that when I came to the locality I would try to secure some specimens of this unique plant. Having now arrived in the region, I decided to devote a few days to looking for the orchid and at the same time investigate a great Penihing burial cave which was found by my predecessor. Accompanied by two of our soldiers and with five Dayak paddlers, I ascended the Tjehan as far as the first kiham, in the neighbourhood of which I presumed that the burial cave would be and where, therefore, according; to the description given to me, the orchid should be found. There was no doubt that we were near a locality much dreaded by the natives; even before I gave a signal to land, one of the Penihings, recently a head-hunter, became hysterically uneasy. He was afraid of orang mati (dead men), he said, and if we were going to sleep near them he and his companions would be gone. The others were less perturbed, and when assured that I did not want anybody to help me look for the dead but for a rare plant, the agitated man, who was the leader, also became calm. We landed, but the soldier who usually waited upon me could not be persuaded to accompany me. All the Javanese, Malays, and Chinamen are afraid of the dead, he said, and declined to go. Alone I climbed the steep mountain-side; the ascent was not much over a hundred metres, but I had to make my way between big blocks of hard limestone, vegetation being less dense than usual. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when, from the top of a crest which I had reached, I suddenly discovered at no great distance, perhaps eighty metres in front of me, a large cave at the foot of a limestone hill. With the naked eye it was easy to distinguish a multitude of rough boxes piled in three tiers, and on top of all a great variety of implements and clothing which had been deposited there for the benefit of the dead. It made a strange impression in this apparently abandoned country where the dead are left in solitude, feared and shunned by their former associates. No Penihing will go to the cave of the dead except to help carry a corpse, because many antohs are there who make people ill. The extreme silence was interrupted only once, by the defiant cry of an argus pheasant. As the weather was cloudy I decided to return here soon, by myself, in order to photograph and make closer inspection of the burial-place. I then descended to the prahu, and desiring to make camp at a sufficient distance to keep my men in a tranquil state of mind, we went about two kilometres down the river and found a convenient camping-place in the jungle. On two later occasions I visited the cave and its surroundings, becoming thoroughly acquainted with the whole mountain. The Penihings have an easy access to this primeval tomb, a little further below, by means of a path leading from the river through a comparatively open forest. The corpse in its box is kept two to seven days in the house at the kampong; the body of a chief, which is honoured with a double box, remains ten days. According to an otherwise trustworthy Penihing informant, funeral customs vary in the different kampongs of the tribe, and generally the box is placed on a crude platform a metre above the ground. As for the orchid, I, as well as the Dayaks, who were shown an illustration of it, searched in vain for three days. There is no doubt that I was at the place which had been described to me, but the plant must be extremely rare and probably was discovered accidentally "near the water," as the native collector said, perhaps when he was resting. CHAPTER XXIII A PROFITABLE STAY--MAGNIFICENT FRUITS OF BORNEO--OMEN BIRDS--THE PENIHINGS IN DAILY LIFE--TOP PLAYING--RELIGIOUS IDEAS--CURING DISEASE On my return to camp a pleasant surprise awaited me in the arrival of mail, the first in six months. The days that followed were laborious: buying, arranging, and cataloguing collections. From early morning Penihings came to my tent, desiring to sell something, and did not quit until late at night. Some were content to stand quietly looking at the stranger for ten or fifteen minutes, and then to go away, their places being taken by others. But after all it was a happy time, much being accomplished every day by adding to my collections and gaining much interesting information. Over my tent grew a couple of rambutan trees, and close by were two trees bearing a still more delicate fruit called lansat (_lansium domesticum_). It is mildly acid, like the best kind of orange, but with more flavour, and In appearance resembles a small plum without a stone, and when ripe is almost white in colour. Every morning, at my request, the chief climbed one of these trees, on Which the fruit hung by the bushel, and sold me a basketful for a trifle. The lansat is so easily digested that one can eat it freely in the evening without inconvenience; in fact it is a decided aid to digestion. According to the natives these trees are plentiful in the utan, but in the kampong they, as well as the famous durian and the rambutan, have been raised from seed. Borneo certainly possesses fine wild fruits, but as the jungle is laborious to pass through it would be most difficult to find the trees. I have hitherto directed attention to the superior quality attained by the fruits of the island which are grown from imported stock, as the pineapple, pomelo, etc. The usual nuisance of crowing cocks is not to be avoided in a Dayak kampong, though here they were few. I saw a hen running with a small chicken in her beak, which she had killed in order to eat it--a common occurrence according to the Penihings. The ludicrous self-sufficiency of the Bornean male fowls, at times very amusing, compensates to some extent for the noise they make, but they are as reckless as the knights-errant of old. Outside my tent at dawn one morning I noticed one of them paying devoted attention to a hen which was hovering her chickens. He stood several seconds with his head bent down toward hers, then walked round her, making demonstrations of interest, and again assumed his former position, she meanwhile clucking protectingly to her brood. Finally, he resolutely attacked her, whereupon she emitted a discordant shriek while seven or eight tiny yellow chicks streamed forth from underneath her; in response to her cry of distress another cock immediately appeared upon the scene and valiantly chased the disturber away. No less than nine prahus started out one day, bound for Long Iram to buy salt and other goods, taking a small quantity of rattan. The following day, late in the afternoon, the party returned, having passed the night a short distance away. As they had approached Long Blu an omen bird, evidently a small woodpecker, had flown across their path in front of the first prahu, whereupon the whole flotilla at once retraced their course--a tedious day's trip against the current. It makes no difference whether this bird flies from left to right, or from right to left, or whether it crosses in front or behind the boat. If the bird is heard from the direction on the left of the party the augury is bad, whether he is seen or not. If heard from the right side everything is well. After waiting three days the party proceeded on their way. There are seven omen birds, according to the Penihings, and they are regarded as messengers sent by a good antoh to warn of danger. For the same purpose he make a serpent pass in front of the prahu, or a rusa cry in the middle of the day. At night this cry is immaterial. The most inauspicious of all omens is the appearance of a centipede. If a man in a ladang is confronted with such an animal he at once stops work there and takes up a new field. The tribal name of the Penihings is A-o-haeng. Until recently each kampong had from two to five súpi, chiefs or rajas, one being superior to the others. The office was hereditary. There are still several rajas in one kampong, for instance, three in Long Tjehan. The Penihings have a practical turn of mind and though they usually tell the truth at times they may steal. They are the best workers among the tribes on the Mahakam River (above the great rapids) and on a journey they travel in their prahus day and night, resting only a couple of hours in the early morning. However, the custom of travelling at night may be due to fear of meeting omen birds. The hair of the Penihings and the Oma-Sulings, though it looks black, in reality is brown with a slight reddish tint plainly visible when sunlight falls through it. I believe the same is the case with other Dayak tribes. In Long Tjehan I observed two natives who, though passing as Penihings, were of decidedly different type, being much darker in colour and of powerful build, one having curly hair while that of the other was straight. Penihing women have unpleasantly shrill voices, a characteristic less pronounced with the men. Members of this tribe are not so fine-looking as those of other tribes on the Mahakam, with the exception of the Saputans. When leaving the kampong on his daily trips to the ladang, or when he travels, the Penihing carries his shield. Even when pig-hunting, if intending to stay out overnight, he takes this armour, leaving it however at his camping-place. A spear is also carried, especially on trips to the ladang. The sumpitan, called sawput, is no longer made and the tribe is not very apt at its use; therefore, being unable to kill the great hornbill themselves, these natives have to buy its highly valued tail feathers from the Punans. The latter and the Bukats, who are the greater experts in the use of the sumpitan, notwithstanding their limited facilities, are also the better makers, which is by no means a small accomplishment. These nomads, and to some extent the Saputans as well, furnish this weapon to all the Bahau tribes, the Kayans excepted. When meeting, no salutations are made. The mother uses for her babe the same cradle in which she herself was carried on her mother's back. It is of the usual Dayak pattern, and when it becomes worn or broken a new one is provided, but the old one remains hanging in the house. A cradle is never parted with, because of the belief that the child's life would thereby be imperilled. Should the little one die, the cradle is thrown into the river. An unmarried man must not eat rusa nor fowls, and a married man is prohibited from doing so until his wife has had three children. Men should not touch with their hands the loom, nor the ribbon which is passed round the back of the woman when she weaves, nor should a woman's skirt be touched by a man. These precautions are taken to avoid bad luck in fishing and hunting, because the eyesight is believed to be adversely affected by such contact. Their sacred number is four. An unusual game played with large tops is much practised for the purpose of taking omens in the season when the jungle is cleared in order to make new ladangs. The top (bae-ang) is very heavy and is thrown by a thin rope. One man sets his spinning by drawing the rope backward in the usual way; to do this is called niong. Another wishing to try his luck, by the aid of the heavy cord hurls his top at the one that is spinning, as we would throw a stone. To do this is called maw-pak, and hence the game gets its name, maw-pak bae-ang. If the second player hits the spinning top it is a good omen for cutting down the trees. If he fails, another tries his luck, and so on. The long-continued spinning of a top is also a favourable sign for the man who spins it. With the Katingans a hit means that it is advisable to cut the trees at once, while a miss necessitates a delay of three days. Every day, weather permitting, as soon as the men return from the ladangs in the evening, about an hour before sunset, this game is played on the space before the houses of the kampong. Sometimes only two men consult fate, spinning alternately. The same kind of top is found among the Kayans, Kenyahs, and other Dayak tribes. According to the information I obtained from the Dayaks they believe that the soul has eternal existence, and although many tribes have the idea that during life several souls reside in one individual, after death only one is recognised, which is generally called liao. One or more souls may temporarily leave the body, thereby causing illness. Neither in this life nor the next are there virtuous or sinful souls, the only distinction being in regard to social standing and earthly possessions, and those who were well-to-do here are equally so there. With the Katingans whatever is essential to life in this world is also found in the next, as houses, men, women, children, dogs, pigs, fowls, water-buffaloes, and birds. People are stronger there than here and cannot die. The principal clothing of the liao is the tatu marks, which it will always keep. The garments worn besides are new and of good quality. When my informant, a native official of Kasungan, who sports semi-civilised dress, expressed his disapproval of the poor wearing quality of his trousers to an old Katingan, the latter exclaimed: "That matters not. Above, all new ones!" In the belief of the Duhoi (Ot-Danums) the liao remains with the body until the funeral-house falls into decay, perhaps for twenty years, when it enters the soil and "is then poor." The idea of the Penihings about life after death is vague, and they do not pretend to know where the soul goes. The Penihings acknowledge five souls, or batu, in each individual: one above each eye, one at either side of the chest below the arm, and one at the solar plexus. The souls above the eyes are able to leave their abiding-place, but the others can go only short distances. If the first-named depart the person becomes ill next day, the immediate cause being that a malevolent antoh, desiring to eat the victim, has entered the head through the top. On perceiving this the two souls located above the eyes escape and the blian is called upon to bring them back, for unless they return the afflicted one will die. A fowl or a pig, or both, may then be killed and the blood collected. Some of it is smeared on the patient's forehead, head, and chest, the remainder being offered to antoh, both in plain form and mixed with uncooked rice, as has been described in Chapter XIX. When a fowl is sacrificed the empty skin, suspended from a bamboo stalk, is likewise reserved for antoh, the meat having been consumed, as usual, by those concerned. As another effective means of inducing the return of the soul the blian sings for several hours during one night or more. In the Penihing tribe he accompanies himself by beating an especially made stringed shield. It is believed that the singer is able to see how the antoh caused the sickness: whether he did it by throwing a spear, by striking with a stick, or by using a sumpitan. In his efforts to restore the patient the blian is told what to sing by a good antoh that enters his head. Without such help no person can sing properly, and the object of the song is to prevail upon a beneficent spirit to eject or kill the evil one so that the souls may return. The blian usually resorts also to feats of juggling, proceeding in the following way: Clasping his open hands forcibly together over the painful part, at the same time turning himself round and stamping on the floor, he wrings his hands for a few seconds and then, in sight of all, produces an object which in the Penihing conception represents a bad antoh--in fact, by them is called antoh. In this manner he may produce several bits of substance which are thrown away to disappear. According to belief, when the blian performs his trick it is in reality a good antoh that does it for him. While we were in camp at Long Tjehan there was considerable singing at night for the cure of sick people, and four voices could be heard in different parts of the house at the same time. One night I was prevented from sleeping by a remedial performance just above my tent, which was only a few metres from the house. The clear, strong voice of the blian had resounded for an hour or more, when five loud thumps upon the floor were heard, as if something heavy had fallen. The fact was that the man had stamped hard with his right foot as by sleight-of-hand he caught various objects from the patient, producing in quick succession a piece of wood, a small stone, a fragment of bone, a bit of iron, and a scrap of tin. Five antohs, according to the Penihing interpretation, had been eradicated and had fled. Afterward he extracted some smaller ones in a similar manner but without stamping his foot. The singing was then continued by another man and a woman, in order to call the friendly antoh, that the exercises might be happily concluded. The blian also tries to placate the malevolent antoh by the gift of food. A Penihing informant said that the evil one also eats the sacrificial blood, including that which is smeared on the patient, and ultimately may leave satisfied. As soon as the souls see that the antoh has gone they return and the victim recovers. The blian's remuneration is usually one parang and a handful of rice. If the person is very ill, a gong and a handful of rice is the fee, but should the patient die the gong is returned. The Duhoi (Ot-Danum) women occasionally put on men's costume, and vice versa, to frighten the antoh that causes illness and keep it at a distance. With the Katingans a good antoh is believed to reside in the saliva applied by the blian for healing purposes to that part of a body which is in pain. The saliva drives out the malevolent antoh, or, in other words, cures the pain. CHAPTER XXIV HEAD-HUNTING, ITS PRACTICE AND PURPOSE The Penihings still live in dread of the head-hunting raids of the Ibans of Sarawak, and the probability of such attacks no doubt caused the recent establishment of a garrison at Long Kai. The Long-Glats on the Merasi, a northern tributary to the Mahakam, are also constantly on guard against the Ibans. Until lately these inveterate head-hunters would cross the mountains, make prahus, then travel down the Upper Mahakam, and commit serious depredations among the kampongs, killing whomsoever they could, the others fleeing to the mountains. As one Penihing chief expressed it to me: "The river was full of their prahus from the Kasao River to Long Blu." Their last visit was in 1912, when the Bukats reported that a number of Ibans had arrived at the headwaters of the river, but the raid did not materialise, and they retired without making prahus. These raids have naturally brought about much intermingling of the tribes on the Mahakam River, and sometimes three or more may be found living in one kampong. About twenty years ago there was much fighting in these remote parts of Borneo among Penihings, Saputans, Penjabongs, and Bukats, each tribe making head-hunting raids into the dominions of another, and all being constantly exposed to the fury of the Ibans from the north. Head-hunting raids may include assaults on kampongs, but very often they are cowardly attacks on small groups of unsuspecting people, men, women, and children. The heads thus secured appear to be as highly valued as those acquired under more heroic conditions. The fact is also noteworthy that the heads of Malays are appreciated, but, with few exceptions, not those of white people. Several times I heard of Malay rattan or rubber gatherers who had been disposed of in that way. The head is severed by one stroke. As a typical case of head-hunting I give the following description of a raid which, twelve years previous to my visit, was made by ten Bukats upon a small party of Saputans who were on a babi hunt. Among the Penyahbongs, Saputans, Punans, and Penihings a woman may accompany her husband or another man on the chase, carry a spear, and assist in killing pig or deer. Bear she does not tackle, but, as my informant said, "even all men do not like to do that." She also carries her own parang, with which she may kill small pigs and cut down obstacles in her path. The hunting-party, one man and three women, had been successful. The babi had been killed with spears and, in accordance with custom, the head had been cut off with a parang. The carcass had been cut up and the three women carried the meat in the coarse-meshed rattan bags on their backs, while the man bore the head on his shoulder, all homeward bound, when the Bukats attacked them. Only one woman escaped. The slayers hurried off with the three heads, being afraid of the people of the kampong which was not far away. As usual the heads were tied by the hair to the handle of the shield, and were thus carried to the place where the rattan bags had been left, inside of which they were then placed. After taking heads the men are on the run for two or three days, travelling at night with torches, and in the evening they make a big fire to dry the heads. The brains, because of the weight, may have been taken out the first evening; this is done through the foramen, and a hole is made with a spear point in the top of the skull. The hair has first been cut off and taken care of, to be tied as ornaments to shields or plaited round the handle of the sword. The Katingans, however, throw away the hair with the flesh. Apprehensive of pursuit, they may dry the head but a little while each night, grass being tied round it when carried. Sometimes damar is used to dry the flesh and the eyes. The last night out the head-hunters always sleep near their kampong, and early next morning, while it is still dark, they come singing. The people of the kampong waken, array themselves in their best finery, and go to meet them, the women wearing their newest skirts and bringing pieces of nice cloth to present to the conquerors. The man who cut the head carries it suspended from his neck until it is taken from him by a woman who gives him the cloth to wear instead, possibly as a badge of heroism. It makes no difference whether this service is performed by his wife, an unmarried woman, or another man's wife. The singing ceases and all proceed to the kampong, to the house of the kapala, where the heads are hung from the beam at the head of the ladder, and the cloths which were bestowed upon the victors are returned to the women. The heads are left hanging, while for the festivities connected with their arrival a hut, called mangosang, is constructed, consisting of an airy shelter made of two rows of bamboo stalks supported against each other, and profusely adorned with the inevitable wood shavings. The head-hunters, who must take their food apart from their associates and in the presence of the heads, now bring water from the river to boil rice, in bamboo, outside on the gallery. When the cooking is finished the heads are brought to take part in the meal, being hung near the place where the men are to eat and about half a metre above the floor, to be out of reach of dogs. A pinch of rice is put into the hole at the top of the skull and the head is addressed in the following words: "Eat this rice first. Don't be angry. Take care of me. Make this body of mine well." During the period of restrictions imposed on the hunters the heads remain at the same place, sharing the meals as described. For twelve days the hunters do no work and refrain from eating meat, vegetables, fish, salt, and red pepper, rice being the only permissible food. They are obliged to take their food on the gallery, and those who have never been on such expeditions before must also sleep there during that time. A man who has taken part three or more times may join his wife, but he must take his meals on the gallery. When twelve days have passed no more food is given to the heads, which are hung on the beam again, three to five being placed together in a rattan basket, with leaves around them. At the triennial festival, tasa, blood of pig or fowl mixed with uncooked rice, is offered to the heads. Usually the head-hunting raids were, and are still to a limited extent, carried far away into distant regions and may occupy several months. The Saputans, who were devotees to the custom, would go as far as the river Melawi in the southwest to Sarawak in the north, as well as to the Murung or Upper Barito River in the east. Sometimes only two to five men would go, but usually there were about ten--an equal number remaining behind in the kampong. Controleur W.J. Michielsen, quoted before, relates an instance of a Dayak from Serayan, whose daughter had been killed by a Katingan head-hunter, who pursued the marauders to their homes, and, on the occasion of the festivities incident to the return of the members of the raid, he cut the head from the murderer of his child while the celebration was in progress. His action was so sudden that they were totally unprepared, and no attempt was made to prevent his escape with the head. In times gone by when a Saputan man, woman, or child died it was the custom for a member of the family to go forth to look for a head. In the case of an ordinary person one was deemed sufficient, but for a chief five to ten were necessary. When taking a head a cut was made in the slain man's chest with a parang; into the wound the raiders then put their forefingers and sucked the blood from them. Each head-hunter carried rice in a rattan basket, but he depended for food mainly on sago-palms and wild animals that were killed. After such an expedition has been determined upon, the preparations may occupy a year or even longer, but usually about three months. When all is ready for a start, a delay of from one to four days may be caused by unfavourable interference of an omen bird. Should a bird chance to repeat the omen when another start is made, the party must return to the kampong and wait a long time. The Dayaks are very much guided in their actions by omens taken not only from birds but also from incidents, and merely to hear a certain bird is sufficient reason to change all plans. When leaving their kampong to take part in an expedition to New Guinea the Penihings heard the cry of a bird called tarratjan, and requested the lieutenant in charge to wait four days. He replied, naturally, that the Company (government) does not employ birds in making decisions, and while the Dayaks offered no further objection they declared to him that one of them would surely die. According to my informant it so happened that before arriving at the island one man died. If at such a time a large tree should be seen falling, he said, then they would like to give up the trip to New Guinea entirely, but being afraid of the Company they go, notwithstanding the warning. If a head-hunting party sees a large tree fall, the expedition is abandoned, and no young men who took part can ever join another venture of the same kind. Old and experienced men, after the lapse of a year, may resume operations. In case of meeting a centipede a head-hunting expedition must return immediately to the kampong, and for four years no such enterprise may be undertaken. The purposes of head-hunting are manifold. The slain man is believed to change into a servant and assistant in the next life. When a chief dies it becomes an essential duty to provide him with heads, which are deposited on his grave as sacrifices, and the souls of which serve him in the next life. Heads taken for the benefit of kampong people are hung in the house of the kapala to counteract misfortune and to confer all manner of benefits. An important point is that the presence of the heads from other tribes, or rather of the souls residing in them, compels evil antohs to depart. A kampong thus becomes purified, free from disease. The killing of a fowl is not sufficient to accomplish this; that of a pig helps a little, a water-buffalo more, but to kill a man and bring the head makes the kampong completely clean. With the Katingans a head hanging in the house is considered a far better guardian than the wooden figures called kapatongs, which play an important part in the life of that tribe. Any fear of resentment on the part of the liao (departed soul) residing in the head is precluded by their belief that the Katingan antoh gave him the order to watch. "If no heads are brought in there will be much illness, poor harvest, little fruit, fish will not come up the river as far as our kampong, and the dogs will not care to pursue pigs," I was told by a Penihing who had taken part in a head-hunt and served his sentence in Soerabaia. "But are not people angry at losing their heads?" I asked him. "No," he answered, "we give the heads food on their arrival and every month afterward, and make fire every evening to keep them warm. If they feel cold, then they get angry." The man who has taken a head is considered a hero by the women, and if unmarried is certain to secure a desirable wife, but it is erroneous to assert that the taking of a head was or is a necessary condition to marriage. The government of the Dutch Indies, with energy and success, is eradicating the evil head-hunting custom. Military expeditions involving great expense from time to time are sent into remote regions to capture a handful of culprits. By exercising tact it is not difficult finally to locate the malefactors, and indeed the tribe may deliver them. It must be remembered that the Dayaks themselves have no idea that there is anything wrong in taking heads, and the government very wisely does not impose the death penalty, but the transgressor is taken to Soerabaia, on Java, to undergo some years of hard labour--from four to six, I understand. To "go to Soerabaia" is extremely distasteful to the natives, and has proved a most effective deterrent. On account of their forced stay at this remote island city such Dayaks learn to speak Malay and several times I have employed them. They are usually among the best men of the kampong, resourceful, reliable, and intelligent, and may serve also as interpreters. In his report on a journey to the Katingans in 1909 Captain J.J.M. Hageman says: "By nature the Dayak is a good-tempered man. The head-hunting should not be charged against him as a dastardly deed; for him it is an adat. In the second place, he possesses very good traits of character, as evidenced by his hospitality and generosity. Our soldiers, some sixty in number, obtained a meal immediately in every kampong. When a Dayak goes on a journey in a friendly region he may be sure of receiving shelter and food in every house. "They are distrustful of foreigners, but if he has gained their confidence they give assistance freely in every respect. Loving their liberty in a high degree they prefer not to be ordered. The cowardly manner in which they cut heads is no criterion of their courage." It would not be in accordance with facts to suppose that head-hunting has altogether been eliminated in Borneo. It is too closely identified with the religious life of the natives, but in time a substitute probably will be found, just as the sacrifice of the water-buffalo supplanted that of slaves. The most recent case that came to my notice on the Mahakam was a Penihing raid from Long Tjehan to the Upper Barito five years previously, in which four Murung heads were taken. It is extraordinary that such a revolting habit is practised in a race the ethics of which otherwise might serve as a model for many so-called civilised communities, these natives being free to an unusual degree from the fault of appropriating what belongs to others and from untruthfulness. The fact that the Dayaks are amiable in disposition and inclined to timidity renders this phase of their character still more inexplicable. The inevitable conclusion is that they are driven to this outrage by religious influences and lose their self-control. As of related interest I here note what Doctor J.M. Elshout, who had recently returned from Apo Kayan, communicated to me. He had spent three years at the garrison of Long Nawang among the fine Kenyahs and spoke the language. "As soon as one enters upon the subject of taking heads one no longer knows the Kenyah. Of his mild and pacific disposition little or nothing remains. Unbounded ferocity and wantonness, treachery and faithlessness, play a very great part; of courage, as we understand the meaning of the word, there is seldom a trace. It is a victory over the brua (soul) of the man who lost his head, and the slayer's own brua becomes stronger thereby. If opportunity is given they will take heads even if they are on a commercial trip. Outsiders, even if they have been staying a long time in the kampong, run a risk of losing their heads." CHAPTER XXV DEPARTURE FROM THE PENIHINGS--FRUIT-EATING FISH--ANOTHER CALL AT LONG PAHANGEI--A TRIP UP THE MERASI RIVER--GENIAL NATIVES--AN INOPPORTUNE VISIT--THE DURIAN, QUEEN OF ALL FRUITS It became expedient to prepare for our farther journey down the river, but first I wanted to take some photographs and measurements of the kampong people; this, however, proved an impossible task because of the adverse influence of the reticent and conservative Raja Paron, who spoke not one word of Malay. Recently he had been shocked by the sale to me of two live specimens of the curious spectacled lemur (_tarsius borneanus_), which had been added to my collections. The raja was incensed with the man who sold them, because the makiki, as these animals are called, are regarded as antohs, and in their anger at being sold were making people ill. Therefore these new proceedings for which his sanction was asked were regarded by him with disapproval, and as a result of his opposition the people began to disappear in the direction of their ladangs. Fortunately, I had secured good material in both respects from Long Kai, and I began preparations for departure. Prahus and a sufficient number of men were secured, and in the middle of July we started. On the Mahakam there never was any difficulty about getting men who were eager to gain their one rupia a day. The difficulty was rather the other way, and this morning the prahus were found to contain more paddlers than had been agreed upon, and seven surplus men had to be put ashore. On the river-banks at this time were noticeable trees bearing small fruit of a yellowish-red colour, and which were so numerous as to impart their hue to the whole tree. Violent movements in the branches as we passed drew our attention to monkeys, which had been gorging themselves with fruit and scampered away on our approach. Birds, naturally, like the fruit, and, strange to say, it is a great favourite with fish, many kinds of which, chiefly large ones such as the djelavat and salap, gather underneath the trees in the season. On the Mahakam and the Katingan this is an occasion for the Dayaks to catch much fish with casting-net, spears, or hooks. The tree, which in Malay is called crevaia, is not cut, and there is no other known to the natives the fruit of which the fish like to eat. Though not sweet, it is also appreciated by the Dayaks. Another singular observation made on the Mahakam was the effect of dry weather on the jungle. At one place, where it covered hills rising from the river, the jungle, including many big trees, looked dead. From what I later learned about the burning of the peat in Sarawak, where unusually dry weather may start fires which burn for months, this was undoubtedly also the case here, but it seems strange that in a country so humid as Borneo the weather, although admittedly of little stability, may become dry enough to destroy the woods in this manner. I had decided to pay another short visit to Long Pahangei, where we arrived in the afternoon, and again we were among Oma-Sulings. Some good specimens were added to my ethnographic collections, among them wearing apparel for both sexes said to be over a hundred years old and which I bought from the Raja Besar, who was visiting here. He possessed a number of old implements and weapons of considerable interest. The raja of a near-by kampong arrived on his way to Long Iram, and the largest of his seven prahus was of unusual dimensions, measuring, at its greatest width, 1.34 metres over all. Although the board, four centimetres thick, stands out a little more than the extreme width of the dugout, which is the main part of a prahu, still the tree which furnished the material must have been of very respectable size. The Raja Besar showed great desire to accompany me on an excursion up the Merasi River, a northern affluent within the domain of the same tribe. My preference was for Lidju, my constant assistant, but on the morning of our start the great man actually forced himself into service, while the former, who had been told to come, was not to be seen. The raja began giving orders about the prahus and behaved as if he were at home. As I remained passive he finally said that he wanted to know whether he could go; if I preferred Lidju he would remain behind. Not wanting a scene, and as he was so intent on going, I gave the desired permission. Though, like the others, he was nude except for a loin-cloth, Raja Besar was a gentleman at heart, but he did not know how to work, especially in a prahu. On account of his exalted position he had never been accustomed to manual labour, but always to command. He naturally selected a place in my prahu and seated himself at one side, which kept the boat tilted; however, it was out of the question for any of the men to correct him. When the prahu moved away the first thing he did was to wash his feet, next his hands and arms, finally to rinse his mouth, and several times during the trip the performance was repeated. He was of little assistance except through the authority that he exerted as a great raja. Early in the afternoon we arrived at Lulo Pakko (lulo = river; pakko = edible fern), situated in a beautiful hilly country. The natives very obligingly helped to make camp in the usual way. Raja Besar, who made himself at home in the gallery of the long communal house, told me that he wanted his "children," as he called the men, to remain until the following day, his plan being to obtain double wages for them. With the swift current, however, they could easily return the same day, so I said I had no objection to their staying, but that they would receive no extra pay for the additional time; whereupon they left without argument. Comfortably established on the cool, spacious gallery of the large house, I received articles they were willing to sell, had decorative designs interpreted for me, and interviewed the more intelligent of these pleasant Oma-Sulings. On the floor lay an admirably finished plank, which was used as a seat; it was about four centimetres thick and nearly two metres broad, the bark remaining on the edges. In Long Pahangei I noticed a similar one of slightly narrower width. The women, who were genial in their manners, came to my tent constantly to ask for tobacco, which evidently was a great luxury with them, and sometimes they were even troublesome. One afternoon when all was ready for my bath, which I always take at one side of the tent opening, three young women came and seated themselves just outside. While the natives are always welcome and I like them, yet I was not prepared, after a hard day's work, to relinquish my bath in order to receive a visit from even attractive ones of the fair sex. There was simply nothing to do but to disregard their presence. Calmly I began to take off my clothes, as if the ladies were not there. At first my preparations seemed to make no impression whatever, but finally, when I was about to divest myself of the last of my few garments, they smiled and went away. This was the season for the durian fruit and we much enjoyed this delicacy, of which Mr. A.R. Wallace, fifty years ago, wrote: "To eat durians is a new sensation, worth a voyage to the East to experience." There were some superb trees seventy metres high growing not far from my tent, and many others farther away. The people of the Mahakam do not climb these tall trees to get the fruit, but gather them from the ground after it has fallen. One night I heard one fall with a considerable crash. Roughly speaking, it is of the size of a cocoanut; a large one might kill a man and has been known to cause serious injury. It is most dangerous for children to walk under the trees in the fruit season. The durian is intensely appreciated by the natives, and tatu marks representing the fruit are strikingly prominent in Central Borneo. It also has its European devotees, though most of them take a dislike to it on account of its strong odour, resembling that of decayed onions. On my arrival in Batavia one of my first trips had been to the market to buy a durian, which I brought to the hotel with anticipation of great enjoyment. My disappointment was great, its taste being to me as offensive as its odour. Nobody knows what a durian is like until he eats one that has been permitted to ripen and fall to the ground. Even in Java this would be difficult, unless one made special arrangements with the natives who bring them to the market-places. It is popularly supposed that the durian is an aphrodisiac, but that is not the case. Any food or fruit that one greatly enjoys acts favourably on the digestive organs, and therefore makes one feel in vigorous condition. Those that were brought to me on this occasion, and which had just fallen from the tree, were of a fresh green colour with a streak of yellow here and there and had a pleasant, rich odour. The most satisfactory way to eat it is with a spoon; the pulp, though rich, is not heavy, and, moreover, is stimulating. It serves the purpose of a dessert, with a flavour and delicacy that is indescribable and that makes one feel happy. Among the great enjoyments of life are the various delicious fruits when really ripe and of the best grade, but comparatively few people have that experience. The vast majority are perfectly satisfied to eat fruit that was picked green and matured afterward. Many years ago I tasted a real orange from New-South-Wales, and ever since I have disdained the more acid kind. My firmness in refusing to pay the men for more time than was necessary produced a salutary effect upon Raja Besar. He fixed fair prices on things I wanted to buy, which before he had not done, and I made him tie labels on the specimens I bought. As he was truthful, he finally served as well as Lidju. On the last day of our stay he helped me to repress the eagerness of the Dayaks to "turn an honest penny." The prahus, besides being defective, were not large enough for many men, and I was determined not to have more than three in each, a quite sufficient number when going downstream. I have a suspicion that he objected to four for reasons of personal safety. Owing to the rapid current, we made the return voyage in two hours, and when we got to the Mahakam River we found it very much swollen, with logs floating downstream beside us. Our low-lying prahus were leaking and the situation was not agreeable, though I should have felt more anxious had I not been with Dayaks, who are extremely able boatmen. At Long Pahangei the captain from Long Iram, who is also the controleur of that district, had arrived and was waiting on account of the overflow of the river. I had an hour's talk with this pleasant man, who thinks that the Dayaks on the Upper Mahakam ultimately must die out because they do not have enough children to perpetuate the tribe. He said that in 1909, when he was stationed at Puruk Tjahu, nothing was known about the country where we then were. The Oma-Sulings, according to their traditions, came from Apo Kayan nearly two hundred years ago. Oma means place of abode; Suling is the name of a small river in Apo Kayan. They had at the time of my visit six kampongs on the Upper Mahakam, the largest of which is Long Pahangei, with about 500 inhabitants. Material for clothing is no longer woven, but is bought in Long Iram. This is probably also the case with the Long-Glats, but the Penihings still do some weaving. CHAPTER XXVI AMONG THE LONG-GLATS--IS FEAR OF EXPOSURE TO THE SUN JUSTIFIED?-- CHARACTERISTICS OF THE LONG-GLATS--GOOD-BYE TO THE MAHAKAM In the latter part of July we went to the near-by kampong, Long Tujo ("a small animal with many legs"), situated at the mouth of another small tributary to the Mahakam. Here live Long-Glats who are located below the other Bahau peoples of the river and are found as far as Batokelau, between the upper and lower rapids. Though Long Iram is rather distant--five days' travel down-stream, and, if the river is high, perhaps two months may be consumed in returning--still its influence was evidenced by the several umbrellas I saw, all black, an adaptation from the high-class Malays and an unusual sight in these parts. The kapala of this large kampong resembled a Malay raja, in that he always carried an umbrella when he walked and looked pale because the sun was not allowed to shine upon him. Two days later, when I photographed the ladies performing dances, they had at least five of these fashionable contrivances. It may be stated that natives of the Dutch Indies are generally afraid of the sun. Well-to-do Malays carry umbrellas as a protection against it. In Batavia I read in the newspapers that the Sultan of Priok, when visiting an aviation camp, was so overcome by the heat that he had to be carried away, regaining consciousness on arriving at his quarters. However, the attack may have been induced to some extent by general lack of exercise and the indolent life that characterises his compatriots who occupy high positions. Even some of the pagan tribes protect their heads, as the Katingans, the Duhoi, and others, who make beautiful sunshades, which also serve in case of rain, and this was not learned from the Malays. In the Bornean tribes that I visited, until the child is old enough to walk, the sun is not allowed to shine upon it even for a moment. The blacks of Australia, on the other hand, who are in a state of absolute nudeness, pay no attention to the sun, though in common with most natives of hot countries they usually prefer to follow the example of the animals and remain quiet in the middle of the day. An umbrella of the usual type, Chinese or Japanese, is very useful for travel in Borneo. At times it proves of excellent service in the prahu in case of sudden showers, and it is invaluable for protecting the camera when photographing. But as a matter of comfort and convenience it is my custom to have my head uncovered except in rainy or cold weather. The sun is a great friend and health-giver, and notwithstanding well-meant warnings and an inborn fear first to be overcome, during my journeys in Borneo I carried my hat in my pocket. When travelling in a prahu, I do not care for a prolonged exposure to the sun, but often I photographed for three or four hours continuously--really hard work--in the blazing light of the equatorial sun, without experiencing any disagreeable effect. In the spring of 1910 I travelled in this way for three months, mostly on horseback, through the Sonora Desert, and felt stronger for it. It is my opinion that overfatigue, excess in eating, or alcohol are the causes of sunstroke. I have met only one man who, like myself, discards cover for the head--Doctor N. Annandale, of the Indian Museum in Calcutta. Although in our present state of knowledge I agree with him that it is unwise to advise others to do likewise in the tropics, I emphatically recommend less fear of the sun in temperate regions, always on the supposition that one leads a healthy and sane life. The Long-Glats came from Apo Kayan, and established themselves first on the River Glit, a tributary from the south to the River Ugga, which again is an affluent to the River Boh, the outlet from Apo Kayan to the Mahakam. Since that time the people have called themselves Long-Glit, which is their correct name, but as they have already become known as Long-Glat, through the Dutch, I shall use that designation. In the kapala's house I saw a superb plank, four metres long, raised lengthwise against the wall; one side of it was taken up with fine carvings on a large scale, representing three pairs of dogs. This I fortunately obtained. The kapala's father was an Oma-Suling, but his grandmother, a Long-Glat, had taught him some kremi or kesa, the Malay words for folklore (in Long-Glat, lawong), and I collected from him two rather interesting tales, which are included with other folklore stories at the end of this book. In one of them (No. 18) the airplane is foreshadowed, and by one that could fly for a month, at that. Needless to state, an airplane had never been heard of in those parts. The people were inquisitive but more distant than the other tribes I had visited, a quality which is often a saving grace. They were very willing to be photographed, and among my subjects were three women of the nobility, called rajas, who had many coins sewn on their skirts in a way that looked quite well. One wore a head ornament such as I had not seen before, an elaborate affair lying over the hair, which was worn loose and hanging down the back. One man trembled noticeably when before the camera, without spoiling the photograph, however, though it was a side-view. Of the women who helped me with the interpretations of designs, one had a marked Mongolian fold of the eye, though her eyes could scarcely be said to be placed obliquely. As far as my observations go, the Mongolian fold is very slight with the natives of Borneo, or not present at all, and the obliquity of the eyes is seldom striking. The Long-Glats do not tatu much, many not at all, but generally they have on the left upper arm a picture of the nagah in its usual representation with the disproportionately large dog's mouth. Wild cattle are not eaten here. The great hornbill, as well as the red and white hawk, may be killed, but are not eaten. Three times a day the women bring water and take baths, while the men bathe when fancy dictates. Penihing and Kayan women begin to husk rice about five o'clock in the morning, while it is still dark. That is pemáli (forbidden) among the Long-Glats, but the women cook rice at that hour, and, after eating, most of the people depart to the ladangs, returning about four o'clock in the afternoon. The women who remain in the kampong place paddi on mats in the sun to dry, and at noon they husk rice. Early in the afternoon, and again about two hours after sunset, meals are served, consisting always of boiled rice and a simple stew of boiled vegetables of one or more kinds (called sayur, a Malay word), and sometimes pork. In the evening the women may cut rattan into fine strips, or weave these into mats, while the men employ themselves in making a sheath for a parang, or an axe-handle, or carving a hilt for a sword, etc. They talk till late at night and sometimes sing. None of the Bahau people are able to make rattan mats of such exquisite finish as the Long-Glats. The beautiful dull-red colour employed is procured from a certain grass which is crushed and boiled, the rattan being kept in the infusion one day. The black colour is obtained by the same method from the leaves of a tree, and both colours are lasting. In the belief of the Long-Glats, people should not laugh at animals, lest some misfortune result. For instance, when dogs fight among themselves or with cats, one should not indulge in mirth, else the thunder, which is an antoh, becomes angry and makes somebody ill. In this kampong was a young hornbill which was quite domesticated and frequently came to rest on the top of my tent. It often fought the hens and even the dogs, which was an amusing sight, but would carry disquieting significance to the Dayak who allowed himself to laugh. The lieutenant from Long Kai possessed a very tame wah-wah which had accompanied him on a visit here. The natives told me that a child had become ill because she could not help laughing at the ape when it ran after the lieutenant and climbed one of his legs. According to the blian, the little girl was very warm and feverish, but he sang in the night, and next day she was well. Considerable similarity is evident in customs, manners, and beliefs of the Long-Glats and the Oma-Sulings, though the limited time at my disposal did not permit me fully to investigate this subject. Bear-meat is not eaten by either, and rusa (deer) and kidyang are not killed, the latter especially being avoided. Sumpitans are bought, and blians' shields such as the Penihings have are not made. Both these tribes pray for many children, which to them means larger ladangs and much food. The wish of these peoples is to have ten children each. In view of the fact that in Long Pahangei the number of women was disproportionately small, the desire for large families seemed unlikely to be gratified. Many men, some of them old, were unmarried, but no women were single. Twins sometimes occur, but not triplets. The mother nourishes her offspring for about five years, the two youngest suckling at the same time. A raja may marry ten women, or more, and has a great marriage-feast of more than a week's duration. Lidju, my Long-Glat assistant, said that his father had fifteen wives, his grandfather thirty, but it was no longer the fashion to have so many. The common man (orang kampong) is allowed only one wife. Divorces are easily obtained, and neither suicide nor abortion is known. July is supposed to be the dry season, but rarely a day passed without showers. One evening occurred the heaviest thunder-storm I experienced in Borneo. It came from the west and was accompanied by a great downpour, straining my tent to the utmost. The sergeant one day brought in a large lizard (_varanus_) which he shot from the prahu just as it was about to enter the river. Its length was 2.30 metres; the circumference back of the fore legs 44 centimetres. It was with regret that I said good-bye to the Bahau peoples. Had it been in my power, I should like to have spent years instead of months in this Mahakam region. The Dayaks here are friendly to strangers, and as the great rapids farther down the river form a natural barrier, they seldom receive visitors, therefore are little changed by outside influence. The Malays have never been able to extend their influence above the rapids, and whatever modification may be noticeable in the natives is chiefly due to their journeys to Long Iram in order to exchange the products of the utan for commodities of the outside world. The government has exerted itself to keep the Malays from coming, but no doubt in the end this will prove as unavailing as it did on the Upper Barito. A few of them now and then find their way across the range that forms a natural boundary toward the south, and although thus far Malay settlement up here is negligible, its ultimate ascendancy is probable, however long the time that may pass before it is accomplished. CHAPTER XXVII CONTINUING THE JOURNEY DOWN THE RIVER--GREAT KIHAMS--BATOKELAU--AT LONG IRAM--LAST STAGES OF OUR JOURNEY--ARRIVAL AT SAMARINDA--HINDU ANTIQUITIES--NATIVE'S SUPERIORITY TO CIVILISED MAN Early in August, as soon as the river had receded sufficiently to be considered favourable for travel, we started in seven prahus with thirty-two men. After less than two hours' swift journey we encountered the advance-guard of the kihams, which, though of little account, obliged us to take ashore almost all our goods, and we walked about fifteen minutes. It seemed a very familiar proceeding. Early in the afternoon we arrived at the kubo, a desirable shelter that had been erected at the head of the first great kiham, but its limited accommodations were taxed to overflowing by our arrival. Already camped here were a few Buginese traders and a raja from the Merasi River, accompanied by two good-looking wives, who were all going to Long Iram and had been waiting two days for the river to fall. The raja, who presented me with some bananas, moved with his family a little farther down the river, and I put up my tent as usual. Next morning the transportation of our goods on human backs was begun, and shortly after six o'clock I started with the men to walk to the foot of the rapids, which takes about three hours. On the way, I observed a large accumulation of vines and branches heaped round the base of a tall trunk which at first sight looked dead. The tree to all appearances had died, all the branches had fallen, and with them the vines, orchids, ferns, etc., that had lived on it, but after being rid of all this burden it came to life again, for at the top appeared small branches with large leaves. A singular impression was created by the big heap of vegetable matter, not unlike a burial-mound, from the midst of which emerged the tall, straight trunk with the fresh leaves at the top, telling the tale of a drama enacted in the plant world through which the tree had passed triumphantly. My camping-place was a small clearing on the high river-bank, where I remained two days while the goods were being transported. There had been little rain for a few days; indeed, it is possible the dry season had begun, and the weather was intensely hot, especially in the middle of the day. I catalogued a number of photographic plates, but the heat in my tent, notwithstanding the fly, made perspiration flow so freely that it was difficult to avoid damage. Moreover, I was greatly annoyed by the small yellow bees, which were very numerous. They clung to my face and hair in a maddening manner, refusing to be driven away. If caught with the fingers, they sting painfully. The river fell more than one metre during the first night, and the Merasi raja's party passed in their prahus at seven o'clock next morning. At twelve our seven prahus showed up, bringing some large packages that could easiest be spared in case anything happened. The following day the remainder of the baggage arrived, carried on the backs of the men, and I was glad to have all here safe and dry. In a couple of hours we arrived in the kampong Batokelau (turtle), and below are other rapids which, though long, are less of an obstacle. A beautiful mountain ridge, about 1,200 metres high, through which the river takes its course, appears toward the southeast. The population includes fifty "doors" of Busangs, forty "doors" of Malays, and twenty of Long-Glats. Crocodiles are known to exist here, but do not pass the rapids above. The kapala owned a herd of forty water-buffaloes, which forage for themselves but are given salt when they come to the kampong. When driven to Long Iram, they fetch eighty florins each. The gables of the kapala's house were provided with the usual ornaments representing nagah, but without the dog's mouth. He would willingly have told me tales of folklore, but assured me he did not know any, and pronounced Malay indistinctly, his mouth being constantly full of sirin (betel), so I found it useless to take down a vocabulary from him. Continuing our journey, we successfully engineered a rapid where a Buginese trader two weeks previously had lost his life while trying to pass in a prahu which was upset. Afterward we had a swift and beautiful passage in a canyon through the mountain ridge between almost perpendicular sides, where long rows of sago-palms were the main feature, small cascades on either side adding to the picturesqueness. At the foot of the rapids we made camp in order to enable me to visit a small salt-water accumulation in the jungle a couple of kilometres farther down the river. As we landed near the place, we saw over a hundred pigeons leaving. There were two kinds of these birds at the pool, most of them of a very common large variety, with white head and green wings, and all were shy; according to the opinion of the Dayaks, owing to the prevalence of rain. Next morning we started shortly after six o'clock, and early in the afternoon reached the kampong Omamahak, which is inhabited by Busangs, with a sprinkling of Malays. Two hours later twenty-one prahus arrived from Apo Kayan with one hundred and seventy-nine Kenyahs on their way to Long Iram to carry provisions to the garrison. Soon afterward the captain of Long Iram overtook us here, returning from his tour of inspection above, so the place became very populous. The next night we stopped at Hoang Tshirao, inhabited by a tribe of the same name, also called Busang, apparently quite primitive people. The kampong was neat and clean; there were many new wooden kapatongs, as well as small wooden cages on poles, evidently serving for sacrificial offerings. The following day we arrived at Long Iram. Of comparatively recent origin, the town lies on level land, and its inhabitants outside the garrison are Malays, Chinese, and Dayaks. The street is long, extremely well kept, and everything looks orderly and clean, while before the captain's house were many beautiful flowers. The pasang-grahan, which is in a very quiet locality, is attractive and has two rooms. One was occupied by an Austrian doctor in the Dutch military service, who was on his way to Long Nawang, while I appropriated the other. He was enthusiastic over the superb muscles of the Kenyahs who had just arrived and were camping in a house built for such occasions on top of a small hill a short distance away. Cows, brown in colour, were grazing in a large field near by, and I enjoyed the unusual luxury of fresh milk--five small bottles a day. After I had bathed and put on clean garments, even though my linen-mesh underclothing was full of holes, I felt content in the peaceful atmosphere. The doctor of Long Iram, who had been here one year, told me that no case of primary malaria had come to his notice. What the Malays call demum is not the genuine malaria, but probably due to the merotu, a troublesome little black fly. One of his predecessors had collected 1,000 mosquitoes, out of which number only 60 were anopheles. There was framboisia here, for which the natives use their own remedies. The temperature at the warmest time of the day is from 90° to 95° Fahrenheit; at night, 75° to 80°. There is much humidity, but we agreed that the climate of Borneo, especially in the interior, is agreeable. It was extraordinary how everything I had brought on this expedition was just finished. The day before I had had my last tin of provisions; the milk was gone except ten tins, which would carry me through to Samarinda, a four days' journey; the candles were all used; the supply of jam exhausted; tooth-brushes no longer serviceable; my clothes in rags. Fortunately I had more stores in Bandjermasin. The rot-proof tents which I bought in England were to some extent a disappointment because they deteriorated even though not in actual use, or possibly because of that fact. On account of the delay caused by the war the bulk of my considerable tent outfit was not unpacked until two years after purchase. It had been carefully kept, but was found to be more or less like paper, and only a small portion could be used. One tent served me throughout Bornean travels, but finally the quality of the fabric became impaired to a degree which necessitated constant patching; it was made to last only by the exercise of great care and with the aid of a fly, three of these having been used on this expedition. If a journey to a country climatically like Borneo is planned to last only a year, rot-proof tents may be recommended on account of their light weight and great convenience. The enterprising Kenyahs offered to sell me the model of a raja's funeral-house which seven of them made while there. Most of the material evidently had been brought with them. It was an interesting sample of their handicraft. At the house of the first lieutenant I was shown several similar models, some with unusual painted designs, which were eloquent testimonials to the great artistic gifts of this tribe. I also bought a small earthen jar. One of the natives who was able to speak some Malay said that such ware is common in Apo Kayan and is used for cooking rice. The poison for the dart of the blow-pipe is also boiled in earthenware vessels. The jars, which are sometimes twenty-five centimetres in diameter, are protected on journeys by being encased in rattan netting. The Kenyahs are perhaps the most capable of all the natives of Borneo. Of the one hundred and seventy-nine visiting members of the tribe, only one was afflicted with the skin diseases so prevalent among many of the other Dayaks, and, according to Doctor J. M. Elshout, syphilis is not found among those of Apo Kayan. The steamship connection with Samarinda is irregular, and as a small transport steamer was making ready to take away its usual cargo of rattan and rubber, I decided to avail myself of the opportunity. The commercial products are loaded in a fair-sized boat, which is made fast to the side of the steamer, and a similar one may be attached to the other side. Such boats, which are called tonkang, also take passengers, mostly Malay and Chinese, but there are no cabins, and the travellers spread their mats on the limited deck according to mutual agreement. A swarm of Kenyahs began at seven o'clock to convey our baggage, and the soldiers later reported that there was not even standing-room left. I climbed on board and found rattan piled high everywhere, covering even the steps that led up to the "passenger-deck," where I emerged crawling on all fours. A shelter of duck had been raised for me in one corner, the lieutenant and Mr. Loing placed their beds in the adjoining space, while the soldiers camped next to them. All the natives, packed closely together, formed another row. The most necessary of my belongings were stored inside the shelter, and there I passed the four days quite comfortably. On account of many noises, including that made by the engine, reading was impossible, so I employed the time in mending two suits of my precious linen-mesh underwear which was rapidly going to shreds, without prospect of opportunity to replace them in the Far East. Morning and afternoon the Malays on deck held their Mohammedan services, apparently singing in Arabic, and during the night the sailors sang much. There were two rough bath-rooms, but I bathed only once, as I was afraid of losing my slippers or other articles that were liable to drop into the river through the intervals between the narrow boards of the floor. We travelled steadily day and night, but stopped at many kampongs to take on more cargo, and an additional tonkang was attached, which relieved some of the congestion on ours. One afternoon the monotony was relieved by a fight in the kitchen of the little steamer, when a sudden thumping sound of nude feet against the floor was heard and boiled rice flew about. But it was very soon over, evidently only an outburst of dissatisfaction with the cook; somebody called for the Malay captain and we heard no more about it. There was a Bombay Mohammedan merchant on board who had small stores of groceries and dry-goods on the Kutei River, as the Mahakam is called in its lower course. He also spoke of the hundreds of thousands of Hindus who live in South Africa. On the last day of our journey a remarkably tame young snake bird was brought on board, which one of the sailors bought. According to reports, there are many of these birds on the river. He tied it to the stern railing until night, when he put it on top of the cargo, apprehending that it might try to dive if tempted by the constant sight of the water. When asleep it curled itself up in an extraordinary manner, the long neck at first glance giving it a serpent-like appearance. It cried for fish and showed absolutely no fear. On August 22, 1916, we arrived at Samarinda. The custom-house authorities permitted me to put our numerous packages in the "bom." The lieutenant and Mr. Loing went to a new Chinese hotel, while I, in a prahu, paddled to the pasang-grahan, a spacious building with several rooms. Our journey through Central Borneo had been successfully concluded, and during nine months we had covered by river 1,650 kilometres, 750 of these in native boats. During my absence the great war had become more real to the Archipelago through the occasional appearance in Bornean waters of British and Japanese cruisers. I heard of a German who walked from Bandjermasin to Samarinda because he was afraid of being captured if he went by steamer. The journey took him six weeks. It was my intention, while waiting here a few days for the steamer, to visit a locality farther down the river which is marked on the map as having Hindu antiquities. The kapala of the district, who had been there, was sent for, and as he said that he had neither seen nor heard of any such relics, which probably would have to be searched for, I relinquished the trip. Hindu remains, which locally were known to be present in a cave north of Samarinda, had been visited in 1915 by the former assistant resident, Mr. A.W. Spaan, whose report on the journey was placed at my disposal. The cave is in a mountain which bears the name Kong Beng, Mountain of Images, due probably to a local Dayak language. It lies in an uninhabited region four days' march west of Karangan, or nearly two days' east of the River Telen, the nearest Dayaks, who are said to be Bahau, living on the last-named river. During the time of Sultan Suleiman six or seven statues were taken from Kong Beng to Batavia and presented to the museum there. The country traversed from the River Pantun, to follow Mr. Spaan's account, at first is somewhat hilly, changes gradually into undulating country, and finally into a plain in the middle of which, quite singularly, rises this lonely limestone mountain, full of holes and caves, about 1,000 metres long, 400 broad, and 100 high, with perpendicular walls. The caves are finely formed and have dome-shaped roofs, but few stalactite formations appear. Thousands of bats live there and the ground is covered with a thick layer of guano. From the viewpoint of natural beauty these caves are far inferior to the well-known cave of Kimanis in the Birang (on the River Berau, below the Kayan) with its extraordinarily beautiful stalactite formations. In one of the caves with a low roof were found eleven Hindu images; only the previous day the regent of Kutei had turned the soil over and recovered a couple more archaeological remains. Ten of these relics are in has-relief and about a metre high. The eleventh, which is lower, represents the sacred ox and is sculptured in its entirety. One bas-relief from which the head had been broken struck the observer as being finely executed; he recognized four Buddhas, one Durga, and one Ganesha. Another cave visited was noteworthy on account of a strong wind which continually issues from it and for which he was unable to account. The current is formed in the opening, and twenty-five metres back of it there is no movement of the atmosphere. The cave is low, but after ten minutes' walk it becomes higher and has connection with the outside air. There it is very high, and the sun's rays falling in produced a magnificent effect, but no wind was noticeable there. Standing in front of this cave a strange impression was created by the sight of leaves, branches, and plants in violent movement, while outside there was absolutely no wind. I should much have liked to visit Kong Beng, but circumstances prevented my doing so, though the assistant resident, Mr. G. Oostenbroek, courteously offered his small steamer to take me up along the coast. Some months later an American friend, Mr. A.M. Erskine, at my instigation made the journey, and according to him it would take a month to properly explore the locality. The man whom the Sultan of Kutei sent with him threw rice on the statues, and the accompanying Dayaks showed fear of them. By digging to a depth of about a metre and a half through the layer of guano, a pavement of hewn stone was found which rested on the floor of the cave. That the trip proved interesting is evident from the following description submitted to me: "The weird experience of those two nights and one day in the huge caves of Kong Beng can never be forgotten. The caves were so high that my lanterns failed to reveal the roof. There were hordes of bats, some of them with wings that spread four feet. The noise of their countless wings, upon our intrusion, was like the roar of surf. Spiders of sinister aspect that have never seen the light of day, and formidable in size, were observed, and centipedes eight or nine inches long. In places we waded through damp bat guano up to our knees, the strong fumes of ammonia from which were quite overpowering. "Far back in one of the caverns were those marvellous Hindu idols, beautifully carved in bas-relief on panels of stone, each with a projection at the bottom for mounting on a supporting pedestal. They represent the Hindu pantheon, and are classic in style and excellent in execution. They are arranged in a half-circle, and high above is an opening to the sky which allows a long, slanting shaft of light to strike upon their faces. The perfect silence, the clear-cut shaft of light--a beam a hundred feet long--drifting down at an angle through the intense darkness upon this group of mysterious and half-forgotten idols, stamps a lasting picture upon one's memory. "It is the most majestic and strangely beautiful sight I have ever seen. Coming upon the noble group of gods gazing at the light, after a long dark walk through the cave, gives one a shock of conflicting emotions quite indescribable. One hardly dares to breathe for fear of dispelling this marvellous waking dream. Fear and awe, admiration and a sense of supreme happiness at having a wild fancy turn to reality, all come over one at once. A single glance at this scene was ample reward for all the long days and nights of effort put forth to reach it. I never again expect to make a pilgrimage of this sort, for only one such experience can be had in a lifetime." It is rather surprising that Hindu remains in Borneo should be found at such an out-of-the-way place, but Doctor Nieuwenhuis found stone carvings from the same period on a tributary to the Mahakam. Remains of Hindu red-brick buildings embedded in the mud were reported to me as existing at Margasari, southwest of Negara. Similar remains are said to be at Tapen Bini in the Kotawaringin district. In 1917, at the Dayak kampong Temang, in the district of that name, Mr. C. Moerman, government geologist, saw a brass statue fifteen centimetres high, which appeared to him to be of Hindu origin. Before being shown to visitors it is washed with lemon (djeruk) juice. When on exhibition it is placed on top of rice which is contained in a brass dish more than twenty-five centimetres in diameter. After being exhibited it is again cleaned with lemon-juice and then immersed in water which afterward is used as an eye remedy. One must give some silver coin for the statue to "eat." Its name is Demong (a Javanese word for chief) Akar. Originally there were seven such Demongs in that country, but six have disappeared. Hindu influence is evident among the Dayaks in the survival of such names as Dewa and Sangiang for certain good spirits. In the belief of the Katingans, the departed soul is guarded by a benevolent spirit, Dewa, and it is reported from certain tribes that female blians are called by the same name. A party of Malays caught a snake by the neck in a cleft of a stick, carried it away and set it free on land instead of killing it, but whether this and similar acts are reminiscent of Hindu teaching remains to be proven. At the end of August we arrived in Bandjermasin, where several days were spent in packing my collections. For many months I had been in touch with nature and natural people, and on my return to civilisation I could not avoid reflective comparisons. Both men and women of the Mahakam have superb physiques; many of them are like Greek statues and they move with wonderful, inborn grace. When with them one becomes perfectly familiar with nudity and there is no demoralising effect. Paradoxical as it may sound, the assertion is nevertheless true, that nothing is as chaste as nudity. Unconscious of evil, the women dispose their skirts in such fashion that their splendid upper bodies are entirely uncovered. Composed of one piece of cloth, the garment, which reaches a little below the knee and closes in the back, passes just over the hips, is, as civilised people would say, daringly low. It is said that the most beautiful muscles of the human body are those of the waist, and among these natives one may observe what beauty there is in the abdomen of a well-formed young person. It is an undeniable fact that white men and women compare unfavourably with native races as regards healthful appearance, dignity, and grace of bearing. We see otherwise admirable young persons who walk with drooping shoulders and awkward movements. Coming back to civilisation with fresh impressions of the people of nature, not a few of the so-called superior race appear as caricatures, in elaborate and complicated clothing, with scant attention to poise and graceful carriage. One does not expect ladies and gentlemen to appear in public in "the altogether," but humanity will be better off when healthful physical development and education of the intellect receive equal attention, thus enabling man to appear at his best. CHAPTER XXVIII AN EARTHQUAKE--ERADICATING THE PLAGUE--THROUGH THE COUNTRY NORTHEAST OF BANDJERMASIN--MARTAPURA AND ITS DIAMOND-FIELDS--PENGARON--THE GIANT PIG--THE BUKITS--WELL-PRESERVED DECORATIVE DESIGNS--AN ATTRACTIVE FAMILY I decided to travel more in Borneo, but before undertaking this it was necessary for several reasons to go to Java. In Soerabaia I had my first experience of an earthquake. Shortly before two o'clock, while at luncheon in the hotel, a rather strong rocking movement was felt, and I looked at the ceiling to see if there were cracks which would make it advisable to leave the room. But it lasted only a few seconds, although the chandeliers continued to swing for a long time. At other places clocks stopped, and I read in the papers that the vibration passed from south to north, damaging native villages. In one town the tremors lasted three minutes and were the worst that had occurred in thirty-four years, but when the disturbance reached Soerabaia it was far less severe than one experienced in Los Angeles, California, in April, 1918. As is well known, the government of the Dutch Indies expends millions in eradicating the plague, which is prevalent in portions of eastern Java. In addition to exterminating the rats, it is necessary to demolish the bamboo huts of the natives and move the inhabitants to new quarters. Houses of wood are erected, lumber for the purpose being imported from Borneo in great quantities. That the efforts have been crowned with success is indicated from the reports issued in 1916, showing that plague cases had been reduced seventy per cent. Returning to Bandjermasin toward the end of October, I began to make arrangements for a journey to Lok Besar, in a hilly region of the Northeast at the source of the Riam Kiwa River. This kampong had recently been visited by the government's mining engineer, Mr. W. Krol, on one of his exploring expeditions. At first glance it might seem unpromising to make researches in a region so near to a stronghold of the Malays, but as he was the first and only European who had been in the upper country of that river, there was a fair chance that the natives might prove of considerable interest. It was a matter of five or six days by prahu from Bandjermasin, followed by a three days' march, and I decided to return by a different route, cross the mountain range, and emerge by Kandangan. Accompanied by Mr. Loing, the surveyor, and the soldier-collector, I started from Bandjermasin on November 1. To travel by the canal to Martapura can hardly be regarded as a pleasure-trip, as mosquitoes and flies are troublesome. Half a year later I went by the road to the same place under more cheerful conditions, and though the day was overcast, the flooded country just north of the town presented a picturesque appearance. Rows of high-gabled Malay houses, with narrow bridges leading out to them, were reflected in the calm water, and beautiful blue morning-glories covered the small bushes growing in the water. Along the road were forests of _melalevca leucodendron,_ of the family of _myrtaceae,_ from which the famous cajuput-oil is obtained. It is a very useful, highly aromatic, and volatile product, chiefly manufactured in the Moluccas, and especially appreciated by the Malays, who employ it internally and externally for all ailments. They are as fond of cajuput-oil as cats are of valeriana. Early in the afternoon the prahus landed us at Martapura, which is renowned for its diamonds and once was the seat of a powerful sultanate. The fields, which have been known for a long time, cover a large area, and the diamonds found in gravel, though mostly small and yellow, include some which are pronounced to be the finest known to the trade. There is always water beneath the surface, and natives in bands of twenty occupy themselves in searching for the precious stones, digging holes that serve besides as self-filling basins in which the gravel is panned. The government does not work the fields. In a factory owned by Arabs the diamonds are cut by primitive but evidently very efficient methods, since South African diamonds are sent here for treatment, because the work can be done much cheaper than in Amsterdam. The controleur, Mr. J.C. Vergouwen, said that there were 700 Dayaks in his district. He was able to further my plans materially by calling a Malay official who was about to start in the same direction for the purpose of vaccinating the natives some distance up country. The kapala of the district, from Pengaron, who happened to be there, was also sent for, and both men were instructed to render me assistance. Next day the Malay coolies carried our baggage to the unattractive beach near the market-place, strewn with bones and refuse, loaded our goods in the prahus, and the journey began. The men were cheap and willing but slow, and it was near sunset when we arrived at the English rubber plantation near Bumirata. The controleur had been friendly enough to send word to the manager that he had invited me to stay overnight at the estate. However, upon arrival there we were told that the manager had gone to Bandjermasin the day before, but was expected back at seven o'clock. It did not seem the proper thing to make ourselves at home in his absence, so we returned to the kampong, five minutes below by prahu, to make camp in a spacious, rather clean-looking, shed that formed the pasar or market-place. At midnight I was awakened by the halting of an automobile and a Malay calling out, "Tuan! Tuan!" and I stepped from my bed to meet a friendly looking man in a mackintosh, who proved to be Mr. B. Massey, the manager. We talked together for an hour in the calm of a Bornean night. What he said about the irregularity of the climatic conditions interested me. Two years previously it had been so dry for a while that prahus could move only in canals made in the river-bed. His friends had thought him mad to come to Borneo, but he liked the climate better than that of Java. His kind invitation to breakfast I declined with regret, because when one is travelling it is very troublesome to change clothing, shave, and appear civilised. We arrived at Pengaron at noon. The kapala of the district, a Malay with the title of kiai, lived in a comfortable house formerly occupied by a controleur, one room serving the purpose of a pasang-grahan. On our arrival he was at the mosque, but returned in an hour. The vaccinateur was already there, and by a lucky chance Ismail made his appearance, the kapala from Mandin, whom the controleur thought would be useful, as he had influence with Malays and Dayaks. The kiai, a remarkably genial man, was the most agreeable Malay I met. He behaved like an European, bathed in the bathroom, _a la_ Dutch, dressed very neatly, and had horses and carriage. The hours were told by a bell from four o'clock in the morning, and two clocks could be heard striking, one an hour ahead of the other. In the afternoon, Mr. Krol, the mining engineer, returned from a trip of a month's duration, wearing a pedometer around his neck. He had walked twenty miles in the jungle that day. A Dayak who had accompanied him from Pa-au, one day's march toward the east, gave me some information about the giant pig, known to exist in Southern Borneo from a single skull which at present is in the Agricultural High School Museum of Berlin. During my Bornean travels I constantly made inquiries in regard to this enormous pig, which is supposed to be as large as a Jersey cow. From information gathered, Pa-au appears to be the most likely place where a hunt for this animal, very desirable from a scientific point of view, might be started with prospect of success. An otherwise reliable old Malay once told me about a pig of extraordinary size which had been killed by the Dayaks many years ago, above Potosibau, in the Western Division. The Dayaks of Pa-au, judging from the one I saw and the information he gave, are Mohammedans, speak Malay, and have no weapons but spears. The vaccinateur started in advance of us to prepare the people for our arrival. Our new paddlers, who were jolly and diligent men, brought their rice packed in palm-leaves, one parcel for the men of each prahu. They use leaves of the banana even more frequently for such purposes, as also do Javanese and Dayaks, and spread on the ground they form a neat and inviting setting for the food, serving the purpose of a fresh table-cloth. The men ate rapidly with their fingers and afterward drank water from the kali (river), throwing it into the mouth with the hand, as is the Malay custom. I did not notice that they brought dried fish, which is the usual complement to a meal. In this section of the country there is much admixture of blood between Dayaks and Malays, which accounts for the fact that the latter are more genial and agreeable than their lower classes usually are. At Pinang the small population turned out in full force, standing picturesquely near the mosque on an open space between the cocoanut-trees that grew on the high river-bank. It was evident that visitors are not often seen there. At Belimbing the usually steep, high river-bank had been made accessible by short sticks so placed as to form steps that led up almost perpendicularly. Great was my surprise to find myself facing an attractive little pasang-grahan, lying on grassy, level ground at almost the same height as the tops of the cocoanut and pinang palms on the other side of the river. It was a lovely place and charmingly fresh and green. The house, neatly built of palm-leaves, contained two rooms and a small kitchen, with floors of bamboo. In the outer room was a table covered with a red cloth and a lamp hung above it, for the Malays love the accessories of civilisation. The kapala and the vaccinateur were there to receive us, and we were treated as if we were officials, two men sleeping in the house as guard. I was told there are no diseases here except mild cases of demum (malaria) and an itching disorder of the skin between the fingers. On the fourth day from Martapura we arrived at the first Dayak habitation, Angkipi, where Bukits have a few small bamboo shanties consisting of one room each, which were the only indications of a kampong. The most prominent feature of the place was a house of worship, the so-called balei, a square bamboo structure, the roomy interior of which had in the centre a rectangular dancing-floor of bamboo sticks. A floor similarly constructed, but raised some twenty-five centimetres higher, covered about all the remaining space, and serves as temporary habitations for the people, many small stalls having been erected for the purpose. Our friend the vaccinateur was already busy inside the building, vaccinating some fifty Dayaks from the neighbouring hills and mountains who had responded to his call. When I entered, they showed timidity, but their fears were soon allayed, and I made myself at home on the raised floor, where I had a good camping-place. Although these Bukits, among whom I travelled thereafter, are able to speak Malay, or Bandjer, the dialect of Bandjermasin, they have preserved more of their primitive characteristics than I expected. As I learned later, at Angkipi especially, and during a couple more days of travel, they were less affected by Malay influence than the Dayaks elsewhere on my route. The kampong exists only in name, not in fact, the people living in the hills in scattered groups of two or three houses. Rice is planted but once a year, and quite recently the cultivation of peanuts, which I had not before observed in Borneo, had been introduced through the Malays. Bukits never remain longer than two years at the same house, usually only half that time, making ladang near by, and the next year they move to a new house and have a new ladang. For their religious feasts they gather in the balei, just as the ancient Mexicans made temporary habitations in and near their temples, and as the Huichols and other Indians of Mexico do to-day. The natives of Angkipi are stocky, crude people. Several had eyes set obliquely, _a la_ Mongol, in a very pronounced manner, with the nose depressed at the base and the point slightly turned upward. Among the individuals measured, two young women were splendid specimens, but there were difficulties in regard to having them photographed, as they were all timid and anxious to go home to their mountains. Next day, marching through a somewhat hilly country, we arrived at the kampong Mandin on the River Lahanin. Here was the residence of Ismail, to whose influence probably was due the recent conversion to Islam of several families. The pasang-grahan, though small, was clean and there was room for all. Thanks to the efforts of the vaccinateur, the Dayaks, who were very friendly, submitted to the novel experience of the camera and kept me busy the day that we remained there. A great number of women whom I photographed in a group, as soon as I gave the signal that it was all over, rushed with one impulse to the river to cleanse themselves from the evil effects of the operation. As the Bukits are not very strong in carrying burdens, we needed fifty carriers, and Ismail having assisted in solving the problem, the march was continued through a country very much cut up into gulches and small hills. Time and again we crossed the Riham Kiwa, and went down and up gullies continually. At a small kampong, where I took my midday meal sitting under a banana-tree, the kapala came and in a friendly way presented me with a basket of bananas, for these Dayaks are very hospitable, offering, according to custom, rice and fruit to the stranger. He told me that nearly all the children were ill, also two adults, but nobody had died from a disease which was raging, evidently measles. At Ado a harvest-festival was in progress in the balei, which, there, was of rectangular shape. Within I found quite elaborate preparations, among which was prominently displayed a wooden image of the great hornbill. There was also a tall, ornamental stand resembling a candelabrum, made of wood and decorated with a profusion of long, slightly twisted strips of leaves from the sugar-palm, which hung down to the floor. From here nine men returned to our last camping-place, where they had left a similar feast in order to serve me. The harvest-festival is called bluput, which means that the people fulfil their promise to antoh. It lasts from five to seven days, and consists mostly of dancing at night. Neighbouring kampongs are invited and the guests are given boiled rice, and sometimes babi, also young bamboo shoots, which are in great favour and are eaten as a sayur. When the harvest is poor, no feast is made. The balei was very stuffy, and little light or air could enter, so I continued my journey, arriving later in the afternoon at Beringan, where a tiny, but clean, pasang-grahan awaited us. It consisted mainly of four small bamboo stalls, in which there was room for all of us to sleep, but the confined air produced a disagreeable congestion in my head the next day. We now had to send for men to Lok Besar, which was our ultimate goal, and the following day we arrived there, passing through a country somewhat more hilly than hitherto. I put up my tent under some bananas, and felt comfortable to be by myself again, instead of sleeping in crowded pasang-grahans. There was not even such accommodation here, but the kapala put most of his little house at our disposal, reserving only a small room and the kitchen for himself and family. The boiling-point thermometer showed an elevation of 270 metres. I had a meeting with the blians, who knew nothing worth mentioning. Almost everything had been forgotten, even the language, still it is remarkable how primitive these people remain, and there is scarcely any mixture of Malay apparent in the type. For two or three days the kind-hearted, simple people gathered in numbers at the middle kampong of the three which bear the same name, Lok Besar, upper, middle, and lower. The Dayaks call the upper one Darat, which means headwaters. One man had a skin formation which at a superficial glance might be taken for a tail. It was about the size of a man's thumb, felt a little hard inside, and could be moved either way. On the outside of each thigh, over the head of the femur, was a similar but smaller formation. Another man had an excrescence on each thigh, similarly located, but very regular in shape, forming half a globe; I saw a Dayak on the Mahakam with the same phenomenon. One woman had such globular growths, though much smaller, in great numbers on the feet. Among the Bukits I observed two harelipped men, one hunchback, and an unusual number of persons with goitre. These natives drink water by the aid of a leaf folded into an improvised cup. Eight of the upper front teeth are cut. Suicide is not known. Their only weapon at present is the spear, which they buy very cheaply from the Malays, but formerly the sumpitan was also in use. To hunt pig they have to go some distance into the mountains; therefore, they seldom undertake it. Honey is gathered by climbing the tree in which the bees' nest is discovered. Bamboo pegs are inserted in the trunk at intervals and a rope made from a certain root is tied between them, thus forming a ladder upon which the natives ascend the tree at night. The women make rattan mats, and also habongs or receptacles in which to carry the mats when travelling. Fire is extinguished for the night. These natives sleep on a single mat, made from either bamboo or rattan, and usually nothing is placed under the head, but sometimes small wooden blocks are used. In the morning when they arise they roll the mats, and the chamber-work is done. A young girl whom I measured had her hair fastened up with the quill of a porcupine; when asked to undo her hair, she put the quill under the top of her skirt. The Bukits possess one musical instrument, sarunai, a kind of clarinet, which does not sound badly. There are many blians, nearly all men. Several prominent members of the tribe asserted that head-hunting was never practised--at least there is no tradition concerning it. A man may have one, two, or three wives. When a young man is poor, he pays two ringits or two sarongs to his bride's father, but half that amount is sufficient for a woman no longer youthful. The usual payment appears to be twelve ringits or twelve sarongs, which the blian at the wedding places on top of his head, while with his right hand he shakes two metal rings provided with rattles. On the Barito I noted the same kind of rattles used on a similar occasion. He asks Dewa not to make them ill, and a hen as well as boiled rice is sacrificed to this antobu. The dead are buried in the ground as deep as the height of a man. Formerly the corpse was placed in a small bamboo house which rested on six upright poles, and on the floor a mat was spread. I was pleasantly surprised one day when a Dayak arrived at our kampong bringing a number of attractive new bamboo baskets which he had bought on the Tappin River, near by to the west. He was going to finish them off by doing additional work on the rims and then carry them to Kandangan, where they would fetch about one guilder each. All were of the same shape, but had different designs, and he knew the meaning of these--there was no doubt about it--so I bought his entire stock, thirteen in number. I learned that most of the people were able to interpret the basket designs, but the art of basket-making is limited, most of them being made by one or two women on the Tappin. A very good one, large and with a cover, came from the neighbouring lower kampong. An old blian sold it to me, and his wife softly reproved him for so doing, but when I gave her ten cents as a present she seemed very well satisfied. For the interpretation of these designs I found an excellent teacher in a gentlewoman from the lower kampong. She had extensive knowledge concerning this matter, an impression later confirmed by submission of the baskets to another woman expert from the Tappin, of repute as a maker and for knowledge of the designs. I hope that in due time my informant will receive the photograph of herself and her boys which I shall send to her in grateful recognition of her valuable assistance. Her name was Dongiyak, while her good husband was called Nginging. She had two attractive and extremely well-behaved sons of twelve and fourteen years, who trusted implicitly in her and showed absolute obedience, while she was kindness itself coupled with intelligence. In fact their relations were ideal, and it seemed a pity that these fine boys should grow to manhood and die in dense ignorance. I doubt whether any traveller, including the honest missionary, disagrees with the terse sentence of the great Wallace in _The Malay Archipelago_: "We may safely affirm that the better specimens of savages are much superior to the lower examples of civilised peoples." Revolting customs are found, to be sure, among native races, but there are also redeeming virtues. Is there a so-called Christian community of which it may be truly said that its members do not steal, as is the case with the majority of Dayak tribes? There are savage races who are truthful, and the North American Indians never broke a treaty. In the morning, when beginning my return journey, I had to send more than once to the kampong below to ask the men to come, because of their reluctance to carry burdens. We had to proceed slowly, and early in the afternoon reached the summit of the watershed, which naturally is not at its highest here, the elevation ascertained by boiling-point thermometer being 815 metres. At a temperature of 85° F., among shady trees, a short rest was very acceptable, and to get down the range proved quick work as the woods were not dense. Afterward we followed a path through tall grass over fallen trunks, crossing numerous gullies and rivulets. As darkness approached, clouds gathered threateningly and rain began to fall. It was really a pleasure to have the kapala of Tumingki meet us a couple of kilometres before arriving there. A man whom I had sent ahead to the river Tappin for the purpose of securing more baskets and to bring a woman to interpret the designs, had evidently told him about us. CHAPTER XXIX THE BALEI OR TEMPLE--A LITTLE KNOWN PART OF THE COUNTRY--A COURTEOUS MALAY--POWER OVER ANIMALS--NEGARA The kapala cleared the way with his parang, and just before dusk we arrived at the balei, a large structure which the people had taken as a permanent abode, having no houses and possessing ladangs near by. Many fires were burning inside, round which the families had gathered cooking rice, and my entire party also easily found room. The kapala at once sent out five men to gather the necessary coolies for the continuance of our journey the following day. The carriers were slow in coming, and while waiting in the morning I catalogued four baskets which my messenger had brought from Tappin and a few more which I was able to buy here. The woman from Tappin, who accompanied my man, was even better informed than Dongiyak. She knew designs with remarkable certainty, and it was gratifying to be able to confirm information gathered before, also in two instances to correct errors. Many of the designs seemed familiar to the men standing around, for they, too, without being asked, would sometimes indicate the meaning correctly. This done, I again inspected the balei, accompanied by the kapala who himself was a blian; he and the others were perfectly willing to give any information about customs and beliefs, although equally unable to do so. The dancing space in the middle was rectangular, about eight metres long, lying nearly east and west. It was about thirty centimetres lower than the remainder of the floor, on which I counted nineteen small rooms, or rather stalls. In the middle of the dancing place was a large ornamental stand made of wood, twice as high as a man, from which were hanging great quantities of stripped palm leaves. From the western part of the stand protruded upward a long narrow plank, painted with simple curved designs representing nagah, the great antoh, shaped like a serpent and provided with four short curved fangs stretched forward. The people could not be induced to sell the effigy because it was not yet one year old. The country was uneven and heavy for travelling, or, as the carriers expressed it, the land was sakit (Malay for "ill"). There were more mountain ranges than I expected, rather low, though one we got a fine view of two quite impressive mountains. Here and there on the distant hillsides ladangs were seen and solitary houses could be discerned. On our arrival in the first kampong we were hospitably offered six young cocoanuts, considered a great delicacy even among white people. Although I do not much appreciate the sweetish, almost flavourless water of this fruit, they proved very acceptable to my men, as the day was intensely hot for Borneo. At the kampong Belimbing, by taking out on of the walls which were constructed like stiff mats, I obtained a good room in the pasang grahan, but the difficulty about getting men increased. The kapala, or pumbakal, as this official is called in these parts, was obliging and friendly, but he had slight authority and little energy. He personally brought the men by twos and threes, finally one by one, and he worked hard. When finally we were able to start, still a couple of men short, he asked to be excused from accompanying me further, to which I readily assented. There were too many pumbakals who graced the expedition with their presence. I believe we had four that day who successively led the procession, generally with good intentions to be of assistance, but, in accordance with their dignity, carrying little or nothing, and receiving the same payment as the rest. However, it must be conceded that their presence helped to make an impression on the next kampong which was expected to furnish another gang of carriers. We managed to travel along, and finally reached the last Dayak kampong, Bayumbong, consisting of the balei and a small house. The balei was of limited proportions, dark, and uninviting, so I put up my tent, which was easily done as the pumbakal and men were friendly and helpful. All the carriers were, of course, anxious to return, but as they were engaged to go to Kandangan I told them they would have to continue, promising, however, to pay for two days instead of one and to give them all rice in the evening. These people are like children, and in dealing with them a determined but accommodating ruling is necessary. The journey was less rough than before, though we still passed gulches over which bamboo poles afforded passage for a single file, and soon the road began to be level. It was not more than four or five hours' walk to Kandangan, but rain began to fall and the men each took a leaf from the numerous banana trees growing along the road with which to protect themselves. On approaching the village we found two sheds some distance apart which had been built conveniently over the road for the comfort of travelling "inlanders." As the downpour was steady I deemed it wise to stop under these shelters, on account of the natives, if for no other reason, as they are unwilling carriers in rain. The house of a Malay official was near by, and after a few minutes he came forth in the rain, a servant bringing a chair which he offered to me. Feeling hungry, I inquired if bananas were purchasable, but without immediate result. He was naturally curious to know where I came from, and having been satisfied in that respect he went back to his house, soon returning with bananas and a cup of tea. Hearing that I had been three weeks without mail and was anxious to have news of the war, he also brought me two illustrated Malay periodicals published in Amsterdam. Alas! they were half a year old, but nevertheless, among the illustrations were some I had not seen before. This was a worthy Malay and not unduly forward--he was too well-mannered for that. The rain having abated somewhat we soon found ourselves in Kandangan, where the curiosity of Malays and Chinese was aroused by our procession. Neither the assistant-resident nor the controleur were at home, but the former was expected next morning. Many Malays, big and little, gathered in front of the pasang grahan, where the man in charge could not be found, but a small boy started in search of him. After half-an-hour the rest of our party began to come in, and forty-five wet coolies with their damp burdens filled the ante-room of the pasang grahan, to the despair of the Malay custodian who belatedly appeared on the scene. Notwithstanding the unpleasantness of the crowded room I did not think it right to leave the poor carriers out in the rain, therefore had allowed them to remain. The burdens having been freed from the rattan and natural fibrous bands by which they had been carried, these wrappings--a load for two men--were disposed of by being thrown into the river. Gradually the place assumed an orderly aspect and Mr. Loing and I established ourselves in two quite comfortable rooms. Through fortunate circumstances the assistant-resident, Mr. A.F. Meyer, was able to arrange to have our old acquaintance, the river-steamer _Otto,_ to wait for us at Negara and take us to Bandjermasin. His wife had an interesting collection of live animals and birds from the surrounding country. She loved animals and possessed much power over them. A kitten of a wild cat of the jungle, obtained five days previously, was as tame as a domesticated specimen of the same age. She stroked the back of a hawk which was absolutely quiet without being tied or having its wings cut. He sat with his back toward us and as she stroked him merely turned his head, immediately resuming his former position. All the birds were in perfect plumage at that time, the month of November, and in fine condition. We came to a number of beautiful rails, males and females, from the large marshes of the neighbourhood; the birds were busily running about, but at sight of her they stopped and emitted clacking notes. From the same marshes had been obtained many small brownish ducks with exquisitely shaded coats. The snake bird, with its long, straight, sharp beak and long, thin neck, she said was dangerous, and she teased him to thrust his head through the rails. Finally she took from a cage two musangs which were resting and pressed them against her chest. They were as tame as cats. It was curious to note that when walking they held their tails so that a loop was formed in the middle. In Negara are many high-gabled houses, which I was told are Bandjermasin style; at all events, they form the original Malay architectural pattern in Borneo. The town is strongly Malay and famous for its boat-building. The gondola-like boats of ironwood that attract the attention of the stranger on his first visit to Bandjermasin, come from this place. Mosquitoes were troublesome in the surrounding marshes; nevertheless, I understand there is no malaria. In this and similar sections in the vicinity of Bandjermasin it is noticeable that Malay women and girls whiten their faces on special occasions, doubtless in imitation of Chinese custom. The paint, called popor, is made from pulverised egg-shells mixed with water, and, for the finest quality, pigeons' egg-shells are utilised. Where there is much foreign influence Dayak women have adopted this fashion for festal occasions. At harvest time, when both Dayak and Malay women wear their best garments, the faces of the women and the little girls are painted. My expedition of three weeks had proved successful mainly on account of the unexpectedly well-preserved knowledge of decorative designs which I encountered among the Bukits. Otherwise they are slowly but surely yielding to the Malay influence to which they have been exposed for hundreds of years. Only the comparative inaccessibility of the country has prevented their complete absorption. CHAPTER XXX AN EXPEDITION TO THE KATINGAN RIVER--TATUING OF THE ENTIRE BODY--THE GATHERING OF HONEY--A PLEASANT INTERMEZZO--AN UNUSUALLY ARTISTIC PRODUCTION--UP THE SAMBA RIVER--WITH INCOMPETENT BOATMEN Arrangements were at once begun for another expedition, this time to the west of Bandjermasin. I planned to ascend the Mendawei, or Katingan River, as it is also called, and, if circumstances permitted, cross over to the headwaters of the Sampit, returning by that stream. Through the kind efforts of the resident, Mr. H.J. Grijson, arrangements were made that would enable me to use the government's steam-launch _Selatan_ as far up the river as it is navigable, to Kuala Samba, and in case necessity arose, to have it wait for my return. This arrangement would save much time. Accompanied by Mr. Loing, the surveyor, on the last day of November I left Bandjermasin on the steamship _Janssens_, which, en route for Singapore, was to call at Sampit. There is always a large contingent of Malays who with their families go on this steamer to and fro between Borneo and the Malay Peninsula, where they work on rubber and cocoanut plantations; out of their earnings they buy the desires of their hearts--bicycles and yellow shoes. Thus equipped they go back to Bandjermasin to enjoy themselves a few weeks, after which the bicycles are sold and the erstwhile owners return to the scene of their labours to start afresh. The controleur, Mr. H.P. Schouten, had just returned on the _Selatan_ from a trip up the Katingan, and turned it over to my use. When the coaling had been done and our goods taken on board, the strong little boat lay deep, but the captain said it was all right. He was the same able djuragan of two years before. Having received from the controleur letters to the five native officials located on the Katingan, we departed, and the following morning arrived at the mouth of the river. At first the country was very thinly inhabited, because the banks are too low to encourage settlement. As hitherto noted the country bordering on the lower portions of the great rivers is populated by Malays exclusively, and here their territory stretches almost to Kasungan. The remainder of the riparian lands is occupied by Katingans. There is some slight difference in the language spoken by those who live on the middle part, from Kasungan to Bali (south of Kuala Samba), and those who from Bali northward occupy the rest of the watercourse. They are termed by the Malays Lower and Upper Katingans. Those of the first category appeared to be of medium size and inclined to stoutness; on the upper stretches of the river they are taller. These and other differences may be due in a measure to tribal changes brought about by head-hunting raids. It is known that there was an influx of Ot-Danums from the Samba on account of such raids. While all Katingans eat snakes and large lizards, the upper ones do not eat rusa but the lower ones do. Their total number is estimated to be about 6,000. In 1911-1912 this river was visited by cholera and smallpox, which reduced the population by 600 and caused the abandonment of some kampongs. Under favourable circumstances one may travel by prahu to Kuala Samba, our first goal, in sixteen days, the return journey occupying half that time. On reaching Kasungan the river was not quite two metres deep, dimming our chances of proceeding further with the steam-launch. The djuragan put up his measuring rod on the beach, for unless the water rose he would have to go one day down stream. The prospect was not pleasing. The under kapala of the district, a native official whose title for the sake of convenience is always abbreviated to the "onder," at once exerted himself in search of a large boat belonging to a Malay trader, supposed to be somewhere in the neighbourhood, and a young Dutchman who recently had established himself here as a missionary was willing to rent me his motor-boat to tow it. After several days of preparation, the river showing no sign of rising, we started in an unusually large prahu which was provided with a kind of deck made of palm-leaf mats and bamboo, slightly sloping to each side. It would have been quite comfortable but for the petroleum smoke from the motor-boat, which was sickening and made everything dirty. In 1880, when Controleur W.J. Michielsen visited the Katingan and Samba Rivers, the kampongs consisted of "six to ten houses each, which are lying in a row along the river bank and shaded by many fruit trees, especially cocoanut palms and durians." A similar description would serve to-day. The large communal house as known in most parts of Borneo does not seem to obtain here. Communal houses of small size were in use ten years previously and are still found on the Upper Samba. Their gradual disappearance may be explained by the fact that the government, as I was informed, does not encourage the building of communal houses. Whatever the reason, at the present time the dwelling is a more or less flimsy structure, built with no thought of giving access to fresh air, and sometimes no provision is made for the escape of smoke from the fireplace. But the people are very hospitable; they gladly received us in their houses, and allowed me, for purposes of ventilation, to demolish temporarily part of the unsubstantial wall, which consisted of bark or stiff mats. The high ladder is generally provided with a railing leaning outward at either side. The Katingans are shy, kind-hearted natives, the great majority of them being unusually free from skin disease. No illness was apparent. With some of the Lower Katingans the calf of the leg was below normal size. This was the case with three women in Pendahara, and also with a blian who otherwise was a stout man. All the men have a large representation of the full moon tatued on the calf of the leg, following the custom of the Ot-Danums, Murungs, and Siangs. As far as I ascended the river the Upper Katingans rarely have more tatuing than this, but the Lower Katingans are elaborately ornamented, chest and arms being covered with illustrations of familiar objects. Several old men, now dead, had their bodies, even their backs, legs, and faces, covered with tatu marks, and one thus decorated was said still to be living. Near the kampong Pendahara, where we camped the first night, were many of the majestic tapang trees which I first noticed on the Barito. In the calm evening after a light shower, with the moon almost full, their tall stems and beautiful crowns were reflected in the placid water. The Katingans guard and protect these trees because they are the abode of bees, and when the Malays cut them down the Dayaks are indignant. Both honey and wax are gathered, the latter to be sold. The nest is reached in the customary manner by a ladder of sharpened bamboo pegs driven into the rather soft wood as the man ascends. The gathering is done at night, an assistant bearing a torch made of bark and filled with damar or wax. The native first smears himself with honey in order that the bees shall not sting him; when he reaches the deposit a large bark bucket is hoisted up and filled. In lowering it the honey sometimes disappears, my informant said, because antoh is very fond of it. About noon, as we were passing a ladang near Bali, we heard the beating of a gong, also weird singing by a woman. It was evident that a ceremony of some kind was in progress, probably connected with funeral observances, so I ordered a halt. As we lay by many people gathered on the top of the steep bank. We learned that an old woman had died and that the ceremonies were being performed in her honour. I climbed the ladder and found in front of me a house on poles, simply constructed, as they always are at the ladangs. Several of the men wore chavats; an elderly female blian sang continuously, and a fire was burning outside. Ascending the ladder of the house I entered a dingy room into which the light came sparingly. In a corner many women were sitting silently. Near them stood one of the beautiful red baskets for which the Katingans higher up the river are famous. As I proceeded a little further an extremely fine carved casket met my astonished eyes. Judging from its narrowness the deceased, who had been ill for a long time, must have been very thin when she passed away, but the coffin, to which the cover had been fastened with damar, was of excellent proportions and symmetrical in shape. The material was a lovely white wood of Borneo, on which were drawn large round flowers on graceful vines, done in a subdued light red colour procured from a pigment found in the earth. The effect was magnificent, reminding me of French tapestries. Two diminutive and unfinished mats were lying on the cover, symbolising clothing for the deceased, and tufts of long, beautiful grass had been tied to the top at either end. The coffin was to be placed on a platform in the utan. Its name in Katungan is bákan rúni; (bákan = form, exterior; rúni = dead person) To see such an artistic production was worth a great deal of trouble. Usually this and similar work is made by several working in unison, who co-operate to obtain the best result in the shortest time. I was gratified when they agreed to make an exact copy for me, to be ready on my return from up country. When one of the men consented to pose before the camera his wife fled with ludicrous precipitation. A dwarf was photographed, forty years old and unmarried, whose height was 1.13 metres. I was about to leave when the people began to behave in a boisterous manner. Men caught firebrands and beat with them about the feet of the others. Some cut mats in pieces, ignited them, and struck with those. A woman came running out of the house with a piece of burning mat and beat me about my feet and ankles (my trousers and shoes were supposed to be white) and then went after others, all in good humour and laughingly. She next exchanged firebrands with a man, and both struck at each other repeatedly. This same custom is used at funerals with the Ot-Danums on the Samba, and the explanation given in both tribes is that the mourners want to forget their grief. After distributing pieces of chewing-tobacco to all present, which seemed to please them much, I left the entertaining scene. In the afternoon we arrived at a small kampong, Tevang Karangan, (tevang = inlet; karangan = a bank of coarse sand or pebbles) where Upper Katingans appeared for the first time. No Malays live here, but there is much intermixture with Ot-Danums. The people were without rice, and edible roots from the jungle were lying in the sun to dry. The cemetery was close at hand in the outskirts of the jungle, where little houses could be seen consisting simply of platforms on four poles with roofs of palm-leaf mats, each containing one, two, or three coffins. It is impossible to buy skulls from the Dayaks on account of their fear that the insult may be avenged by the ghost of the original owner, through the infliction of misfortunes of various kinds--illness, loss of crops, etc. According to their belief, punishment would not descend upon the stranger who abstracted a human bone from a coffin, but upon the natives who permitted the theft. Moreover, they believe they have a right to kill the intruder; the bone must be returned and a pig killed as a sacrifice to the wandering liao of the corpse. But the case is somewhat different with slaves, who up to some thirty years ago were commonly kept in these districts, and whose bodies after death were disposed of separately from those of free people. Kuala Samba is quite a large kampong situated at the junction of the Samba with the Katingan River, and inhabited chiefly by the Bakompai, a branch of the Malays. Our large boat had to remain here until we returned from our expedition up the Samba, the main tributary of the river and inhabited by Ot-Danums who are called Duhoi, their proper name in these parts. I desired to start immediately and the "onder" of the place, as well as the pumbakal, at once set to work chasing for prahus, but things moved slowly and people seemed to take their own time about obeying the authorities. Not until nine o'clock next day could we leave, and I was glad it was no later. The prahus in these regions are large and comfortable, with a bamboo covering in the bottom. They probably originated with the Bakompai, but the Duhoi also make them. At five o'clock it was thought best to camp at the lonely house of a Kahayan, recently immigrated here, whose wife was a Duhoi woman. As usual I had to remove part of the wall to get air, the family sleeping in the next room. In the small hours of the morning, by moonlight, two curious heads appeared in the doorway, like silhouettes, to observe me, and as the surveillance became annoyingly persistent I shortened the exercises I usually take. At the first kampong prahus and paddlers were changed, and on a rainy day we arrived at a small kampong, Kuluk Habuus, where I acquired some unusually interesting carved wooden objects called kapatongs, connected with the religious life of the Duhoi and concerning which more will be told presently. As a curious fact may be mentioned that a Kahayan living here had a full, very strong growth of beard. A few more of the Kahayans, one in Kuala Kapuas for instance, are known to be similarly endowed by nature although not in the same degree as this one. The families hospitably vacated their rooms in our favour, and a clean new rattan mat was spread on the floor. At Tumbang Mantike, on this river, there is said to be much iron ore of good quality, from which formerly even distant tribes derived their supplies. I had been told that a trip of a few hours would bring us to the next kampong, but the day proved to be a very long one. There were about five kihams to pass, all of considerable length though not high. It soon became evident that our men, good paddlers as they were, did not know how to overcome these, hesitating and making up for their inefficiency by shouting at the top of their voices. However insignificant the stream, they yelled as if passing a risky place. Sunset came and still the kampong was--djau (far). Mr. Loing had gone in our small prahu with four of our best men to finish the map-making, if possible, before darkness set in. The light of day faded, though not so quickly as the books represent, but soon it was as dark as possible before the appearance of the waning moon which would not be visible for several hours. I had let Mr. Loing have my lamp, so I lit a candle. It was not a pleasant experience, with clumsy stupid men who, however, did their best, all finally taking to the water, wading and pushing the boat, constantly emitting loud, hoarse cries to encourage themselves; and thus we progressed little by little. What with the faint light of the candle, the constant rush of water, and the noise of the rapids, though not dangerous in the day time, the situation demanded calmness. Moreover, there was the possibility of an overflow of the river, which often happens, caused by rains above. I thought of the Kenyahs of the Bulungan--if I only had them now. After an hour and a half of this exasperating sort of progress we came to smooth water, but even here the men lost time by running into snags which they ought to have seen, because I had gotten my hurricane lamp from Mr. Loing whom we had overtaken. One of the men was holding it high up in the bow, like the Statue of Liberty in New York harbour. There were only three or four houses at the kampong where we arrived at nine o'clock, but people kindly permitted us to occupy the largest. The men were allowed an extra ration of rice on account of their exertions since eight o'clock in the morning, as well as some maize that I had bought, and all came into the room to cook at the fireplace. Besides Mr. Loing and myself all our baggage was there, and the house, built on high poles, was very shaky. The bamboo floor gave way in a disagreeable manner, and it did not seem a remote possibility for it to fall, though the genial lady of the manor, who went away herself, assured us that the house was strong. I did not feel thoroughly comfortable until the "onder" and the thirteen men had finished their cooking and gone elsewhere to camp. When all was quiet and we could go to sleep it was twelve o'clock. Early in the morning Mr. Loing went back in the small prahu to take up the map where he had been compelled to quit on account of the darkness. In the meantime I had opportunity to receive a man who had been reported to me the previous night as wanting assistance because of a wound on his head. Knowing that the Dayaks are always ready to seize an opportunity to obtain medicine, even when they are well, I postponed examining into his case. He had merely a scratch on his forehead--not even a swelling. CHAPTER XXXI AMONG THE DUHOI (OT-DANUMS)--RICH COLLECTIONS--THE KAPATONGS--THE BATHING OF DAYAK INFANTS--CHRISTMAS EVE--THE FLYING BOAT--MARRIAGE CEREMONIES As we approached the kampong Kuala Braui, our next objective, the men in our prahus began yelling in time, in a manner surprisingly like a college yell. We were received at the landing float by the "onder" of the place, a nervous and shy but intelligent looking Duhoi. Pajamas graced his tall form as an outward sign that he was more than an ordinary Dayak, and he wore the same suit every day for a week without washing it. He spoke very few Malay words, which made intercourse with him difficult. Very gentle and retiring, by those unacquainted with the Dayaks he would be regarded as unlikely to possess head-hunting proclivities; nevertheless, twenty years previous to my visit, this same man avenged members of his family who had been deprived of their heads by Penyahbongs, killing two of the band and preserving their heads. Ten years before he had presented them to Controleur Baren on the Kayan River, thus depriving me of the chance I had hoped for on my arrival. The small kampong on the river bank, which here is over twenty metres high and very steep, is new, and a primitive pasang grahan was in course of erection. Six men were much entertained by the novel work of putting up my tent and received tobacco as remuneration. The place lies near an affluent from the north, called Braui, which is more difficult of ascent than the Samba on account of its many kiams. The kapala of the kampong, with two prahus, had ascended it in twenty days. The Dayaks told me that if they wanted gold they were able to wash much in these rivers when the water is low. I heard here of large congregations of wild pigs, up to 500 or 1,000. When the herds, called dundun, have eaten all the fruit at one place they move to another, feeding and marching, following one leader. They can be heard at a great distance, and there is time to seek safety by climbing a tree or running. When hunting pigs in the customary way, with dogs and spears, men have been killed by these animals, though the victims are never eaten. A fine rusa with large horns was killed one day when crossing the river, and I preserved the head. It seemed to me to have shorter hair on the back and sides than this deer usually has, and was larger. The flesh tasted extremely well, in fact much better than that of the ordinary variety. During our stay here, in December, a strong wind blew almost every day, late in the afternoon, not always bringing rain, and quite chilly after sunset. When Schwaner made his memorable exploration in 1847 he did not come up the Samba, but ascended the Katingan River, returning to Western Borneo over the mountains that bear his name. Controleur Michielsen, in 1880, was the first European to visit the Samba River, and since then it has been ignored by explorers. It is part of a large region occupied by the Ot-Danums, a name which signifies people living at the sources (ot) of the rivers (danum = water, river). They are found chiefly around the headwaters of the Kapuas and the Kahayan, and on the Samba and Braui. Some also live on the upper tributaries to the Katingan, for instance on the Hiran. On all these rivers they may number as many as 5,000, about 1,200 of which should be located on the Samba and the Braui. The last figures are fairly correct, but the first ones are based only on information derived from native sources. On the Samba, where I met the Ot-Danums, they are known as Duhoi, a name applied by themselves and other tribes. They are still in a primitive condition, though in outward appearance beginning to show the effect of foreign influence. While a few wear chavats and sometimes becoming rattan caps, nearly all cut their hair, and they no longer have sumpitans. Higher up the river is a Malay kampong consisting of settlers from the Western Division. Occasional traders also bring about inevitable changes, though as yet few of these Dayaks speak Malay. The Kahayans who live to the east of them always liked to come to the Samba, often marrying Duhoi wives, and they also exert an influence. In intellect they are superior to the Duhoi as well as in knowledge of worldly affairs, in that respect resembling the Malays, though they have none of their objectionable qualities. One or two of them are generally present in a kampong, and I always found them useful because they speak Malay well besides being truthful and reliable. Some of these are converts to Christianity through the efforts of the Protestant mission on the Kahayan River, which has begun to extend its activity to the Samba by means of such Kahayans. I prevailed on the "onder" to call the people from three kampongs above, promising presents of rice. He wrote the order himself in Arabic letters and sent it on, and late the following day twenty-five Duhoi arrived, among them four women and several children. Many showed indications of having had smallpox, not in a scarred face, but by the loss of an eye; one man was totally blind from the same cause. In order to induce them to dance I bought a domestic pig, which was brought from the ladang and in the customary way was left on the ground in the middle of the dancing place. Four men attended to the gongs which had unusually fine tones. The women were persuaded to come forward with difficulty. As I expected, they were like bundles of cloth, exhibiting Malay innovations, and the dance was uninteresting, each woman keeping her position in a stationary circle. There was not much life in the dancing of the men either, each performing at his place in a similar circle, with some movements resembling the most common form of dancing hitherto described. Finally, one whose long hair and attire, an ancient short shirt, betrayed him as belonging to the old school, suddenly stepped forward, drew his parang, and began to perform a war dance, swinging himself gracefully in a circle. Another man was almost his equal, and these two danced well around the babi which was lying at the foot of two thin upright bamboo poles; to the top of one of these a striped cloth had been tied. This meeting was followed by friendly dealings with the Dayaks of the kampongs above, who began to visit me. Silent and unobtrusive, they often seated themselves before my tent, closely observing my movements, especially at meal time, eager to get the tin that soon would be empty. A disagreeable feature, however, was that the natives often brought mosquitoes with them, and when they began to slap themselves on arms and legs their absence would have been more acceptable than their company. But each day they offered for sale objects of great interest and variety. Several beautifully engraved wah-wah (long armed monkey) bones, serving as handles for women's knives, are worthy of mention, one of which might be termed exquisite in delicate execution of design. Admirable mats were made by the tribe, but the designs proved perplexing to interpret, as knowledge on the subject seems to be lost. The difficulty about an interpreter was solved when the "onder's" clerk returned from a brief absence; he was an intelligent and trustworthy Kayan who spoke Malay well, had been a Christian for six years, but adopted Islam when he married a Bakompai wife. Compared with the retiring "onder," who, though a very good man, seemed to feel the limitations of his position, this Kahayan appeared more like a man of the world. I made a large collection of kapatongs (in Kahayan, hapatong), which here, and in less degree on the Katingan, I found more abundant than in any region of Borneo visited. These interesting objects are carved representations of a good antoh, or of man, bird, or animal which good antohs have entered, and which, therefore, are believed to protect their owners. When the carving has been finished the blian invokes a beneficent antoh to take it in possession, by dancing and singing one or two nights and by smearing blood on it from the sacrifice of a fowl, pig, or a water-buffalo--formerly often taken from a slave. As with a person, so with a kapatong; nobody is permitted to step over it lest the good antoh which resides in it should become frightened and flee. Kapatongs are made from ironwood; they are of various kinds and serve many purposes. The larger ones, which appear as crude statues in many kampongs of Southern Borneo, more rarely on the Mahakam, are supposed to be attendants on the souls of the dead and were briefly described in Chapter XII. The smaller kapatongs are used for the protection of the living and all their earthly belongings or pursuits. These images and their pedestals are usually carved from one block, though the very small ones may be made to stand inside of an upright piece of bamboo. Some kapatongs are placed in the ladang to protect the crops, others in the storehouse or inside the baskets where rice or food is kept. The monkey, itself very predatory on the rice fields, is converted into an efficient watchman in the form of its image, which is considered an excellent guardian of boiled rice that may be kept over from one meal to the next. For protection at night the family may have a number of images, preferably seven, placed upright and tied together, standing near the head of the bed; a representation of the tiger-cat is placed on top of it all, for he impersonates a strong, good antoh who guards man night and day. From the viewpoint of the Katingans the tiger-cat is even more powerful than the nagah. When cholera or smallpox is apprehended, some kapatongs of fair size are left standing outside the room or at the landing places of the prahus. Images representing omen birds guard the house, but may also be carried on a journey in a basket which is placed near the head when a man is sleeping in a prahu or on land. A kapatong of one particular omen bird is thus capable of allaying any fear if real omen birds or snakes should pass in front of the boat. On head-hunting expeditions kapatongs were of prime importance. Smeared with blood, they were taken along for protection and guidance, and afterward were returned to the room. Some of them are very curious; a favourite one represents a pregnant woman, the idea being that a woman with a child is a good watcher, as the infant cries and keeps her awake. That the child is not yet born is of no consequence. In my possession is a kapatong of the head-hunters which represents a woman in the act of bearing a child. Among the Dayaks the woman is regarded as the more alert and watchful; at night it is she who perceives danger and thrusts her hand against her husband's side to arouse him. When feasts occur kapatongs, etc., are taken outside the house to partake of blood from the animal or (formerly) the slave sacrificed. They are supposed to drink it and are smeared with it. When important they are never sold, but are transmitted as heirlooms from father to son. They passed in a circuit among brothers, remaining three to five years with each, and were the cause of much strife, brother having been known to kill brother if deprived of his kapatong. Many of those which came into my possession showed distinct traces of the application of blood. Some had necklaces around the necks as a sign that they had received human blood. A few of these were later estimated by an intelligent Dayak to be two hundred years old. At the time of purchase I was struck with the fact that the Ot-Danums were parting with objects of great importance in their religious life. One reason is that the young generation no longer practises head-hunting, which necessitated the use of a great number of kapatongs. The people are gradually losing faith in them. These Duhoi were curiously varying in their physical aspects; some were tall, like the "onder," others of medium size; some had hooked noses, others turned up noses. The wife of the "onder" had unusually light skin, but there was no indication of a mixture of white blood. Their temperament is peaceful and gentle, and, according to the Kahayan clerk, who had been here ten years, they are truthful. Most of those that were measured came from the kampongs above, one of which is only two or three hours away. Several men had their foreheads shaved in a manner similar to the Chinese, a straight line from ear to ear forming the hair limit. I observed the same fashion with the Upper Katingans, and in rare cases also with the Kayans and Kenyahs. They make fire by drilling one upright stick into another lying on the ground. Seven is their sacred number. Formerly the kampongs elected a kapala for an indefinite period. If he was satisfactory he might remain a long time. At present the native kapala of the district makes the appointment. Among my friends here were the kapala of the kampong and his wife. She was an interesting woman, very intelligent, with a slender but splendid figure, and her face was curiously Mongolian. She had lost an eye by smallpox, but there was so much light and vivacity in the brown one she had left that the missing organ was forgotten. At first sternly refusing to face the camera, after receiving chocolate like the rest both she and her husband wanted to be photographed. More than once I have seen the Dayak father here and elsewhere take the youngest baby to the river to bathe. As soon as the navel is healed, about eight days after birth, the infant is immersed, usually twice a day, before seven o'clock in the morning and at sunset. The temperature of the river water here in the morning was 72° F. It is astonishing how the helpless little nude being, who can neither walk nor talk, remains absolutely quiet while being dipped under the cold water again and again. The father holds it in a horizontal position for immersion, which lasts only a few moments, but which undoubtedly would evoke lusty cries from a white child. Between the plunges, which are repeated at least three times, with his hand he strokes water from the little body which after a few seconds is dipped again. It seems almost cruel, but not a dissenting voice is heard. The bath over he takes the child into his arms, ascends the ladder of the river bank and carries it home as silent as when it went forth. Sometimes one may hear children cry from being cross, but as a rule they are charming. Monkeys, including the orang-utan, are eaten, but not the crocodile nor the tiger-cat. In accordance with the prevailing Dayak custom men and women eat at the same time. If they choose, women may accompany fishing or hunting expeditions if not far away, but when the game is wild ox or rhinoceros they are not allowed to take part. When there is an overflow of the river one cannot go hunting, nor if one should fall at the start, nor if the rattan bag should drop when the man slings it on his back, or if anybody sneezes when about to leave the house. If when going out on an errand one stubs his toe against the threshold, he must wait an hour. Having started on a fishing or hunting expedition nobody is permitted to go back home; should this be done the enterprise would be a failure for the others; nor should the dogs, on a pig hunt, be called in while on a ladang lest monkeys and deer eat the paddi. When about to undertake a journey of more than four or five days' duration one must abstain from eating snake or turtle, and if a pregnant woman eats these reptiles the child will look like them. Should she eat fruit that has fallen to the ground, the child will be still-born. The same prohibition applies to lizards. Up to twenty years ago the Duhoi and the Katingans made head-hunting raids on each other. It was the custom to take a little flesh from the arm or leg of the victim, which was roasted and eaten. Before starting on such an expedition the man must sleep separate from his wife seven days; when going pig-hunting the separation is limited to one day. On the Upper Samba the custom still prevails of drinking tuak from human skulls. This was related to me by the "onder" of Kasungan, a trustworthy man who had himself seen it done. A wide-awake kapala from one of the kampongs above was of excellent service in explaining the purposes of the ethnological objects I purchased. About articles used by women he was less certain, but he gave me much valuable information, though it was impossible to keep him as long as I desired because he felt anxious about the havoc rusa and monkeys might make with his paddi fields. At five o'clock of an afternoon I had finished, and in spite of a heavy shower the kapala left to look after his paddi, with a night journey of six hours before him. These people are satisfied with little, and he was happy to receive, besides rice and money, a quantity of cocoanut oil and some empty tin cans thrown in. During this busy day the thought occurred to me that the night was Christmas eve, the great festival in Scandinavian countries, and I had made no preparation for a better meal, having neither time nor means. In fact, it so happened that I had rather less than usual. Nevertheless, the day had passed happily, as I accomplished much and acquired interesting information, for instance, about the flying prahu which I had secured. It was about half a metre long, and this and similar models seem to be quite an institution in the southern parts of Borneo. The Duhoi and the Katingans use the contrivance for curing disease, though not in the way we should expect, by carrying away the disorder, but by making a present of the prahu to a good antoh to facilitate his journey. The name of the flying prahu is menáma, in. Katingan, melambong. The more or less wavy carvings of the edge represent the beach. On board are several wooden images: The great hornbill which carries the prahu along and steers it; the tiger-cat, which guards it; the gong and two blanga (valuable urns), to which are added a modernism in the shape of a rifle--all are there ready to drive away the bad antoh which caused the illness. To a pole--or rather a combination of two poles--are tied two rudely made wooden figures, one above the other, representing, the one below, the djuragan or skipper (tiháng); the one above, the master of the "sails" (únda). When a Duhoi is very ill and able to pay the blian five florins, he promises a good antoh to give him a menáma if he will make him well. The contrivance is then made and the necessary ceremonies performed to the end that its purpose shall be fulfilled. In the presence of many persons, the afflicted man lying on his mat, the blian dances in the room holding the prahu on his hands, the left at the bow, and swerving it to left and to right; he sings at the same time but there is no other music. On three consecutive nights this performance is continued for about an hour, near the door, with an eye to the ship's departure, and although it does not disappear it is believed to have accomplished its mission. The Duhoi are polygamous, as are the Kahayans. According to a rough estimate, one-third of the people have one wife, one-third two, and one-third three. If a girl declines the suitor on whose behalf the father acts, she is not forced and the matter is closed. Should she agree, then the price must first be determined, and is paid in goods, gongs, cattle, domestic pigs, water-buffaloes, etc. Really poor people are not found here, and the least amount a man pays for his wife is two gongs, which are procured from the Malay trader. About sunset people gather for the marriage ceremony. The couple sit on one gong. A water-buffalo, pig, or fowl having been sacrificed, the blian sings and smears blood on navel, chest, and forehead of the pair. On rising to go to their room the bridegroom beats seven times upon the gong on which they were sitting, and before he enters the door he strikes the upper lintel three times, shouting loudly with each blow. Food is brought there, and while the door is left open the newly wedded eat meat and a stew of nangka seasoned with red pepper and salt, the guests eating at the same time. After the meal the bridegroom gives everybody tuak, and people go home the same evening unless they become drunk, which often happens. The young married couple remain one year with the bride's parents. CHAPTER XXXII AGRICULTURAL PURSUITS--FACTS ABOUT ULU-OTS, THE WILD MEN OF BORNEO--TAKING LEAVE OF THE INTERESTING DUHOI--A VISIT TO THE UPPER KATINGANS--DANCING--FRIENDLY NATIVES--DOWN THE KATINGAN RIVER When about to make a new ladang one fowl is sacrificed in the morning and the blood, with the usual addition of rice, is thrown up in the air by the husband or wife as a present to antoh, the meat being reserved for home consumption. On arrival at the selected place they carry the sharpening stone some distance into the utan where a portion of the same mixture is applied to it. A few weeks are devoted to cutting down the jungle, and then about a month must pass before the felled trees, bushes, and vines are dry enough to burn. On the day chosen for burning the wood a winnowing tray, on which the outline of a human form has been crudely drawn with charcoal, is hung in the house. The picture represents a good antoh named Putjong and he is solicited to make the wind blow. When starting the fire every one yells "hoi," thereby calling the winds. One day, or even a shorter time, may suffice to burn the accumulations on the cleared space, and when the work is finished all the participants must bathe. A simple house is then erected for occupancy while doing the necessary work incident to the raising of crops. The work of clearing the ground is immediately begun and completed in three or four weeks. Then comes planting of the paddi preceded by a sacrifice of pig or fowl. The blood, with the usual addition, is presented to antoh and also smeared on the seed, which may amount to ten baskets full. All the blood having been disposed of in this manner, the meat is put over the fire to cook, and at the noon-day meal is eaten with boiled rice. In their agricultural pursuits people help each other, taking different fields in turn, and at planting time thirty men may be engaged making holes in the ground with long sticks, some of which may have rattles on one end, a relic of former times, but every one uses the kind he prefers. After them follow an equal number of women, each carrying a small basket of paddi which she drops with her fingers into the holes, where it remains uncovered. They do not plant when rain is falling. After planting is finished, usually in one day, they repair to the kampong, have their evening meal, and drink tuak until midnight. In five months the paddi is ready for cutting--a very busy time for the people. There are perhaps fifty ladangs and all must be harvested. Husband, wife, and children all work, and the family may have to labour by themselves many weeks before helpers come. In the afternoon of the day previous to commencing harvest work the following ceremony is performed, to provide for which the owner and his wife have brought new rice from the ladang as well as the kapatongs, which in the number of two to five have been guarding the crop. Inside the room a couple of winnowing trays are laid on the floor and on these are placed the kapatongs in recumbent position, axes, parangs, the small knives used for cutting paddi and other knives, spears for killing pigs as well as those for fish, fish-hooks and lines, the sharpening stone and the hammer used in making parangs and other iron utensils. The guardians of the ladang and the implements are to be regaled with new paddi. Blood of pig and fowls mixed with new rice having been duly offered to antoh, the mixture is smeared on the kapatongs and implements and a small quantity is also placed on a plate near the trays. Here also stands a dish of boiled rice and meat, the same kind of food which is eaten later by the family. The owner with wife and children having concluded their meal, all others present and as many as care to come are welcome to partake of new rice and meat and to drink tuak. On the following day they go to the ladang to cut paddi, but barely half the number that took part in the feast assist in the work. The first rice spear that is cut is preserved to be taken home and tied underneath the roof outside the door. This is done in order to prevent birds, monkeys, rusa, or babi from eating the paddi. At the ladang rice is boiled, and on this occasion the family and their guests eat at the same time. When the first baskets of new paddi arrive at the storehouse and the grain is poured out on the floor, a little blood from a fowl sacrificed is smeared on it after the necessary offering to antoh has been thrown up into the air. Upon the death of a man who was well-to-do, the body is kept for a period of seven days in the coffin, within the family dwelling-house, but for a poor man one day and night is long enough. Many people gather for the funeral. There is little activity in the day time, but at night the work, as the natives call it, is performed, some weeping, others dancing. When the room is large the feast is held in the house, otherwise, outside. Fire is kept burning constantly during the night, but not in the daytime. Many antohs are supposed to arrive to feast on the dead man. People are afraid of these supernatural associations but not of the departed soul. Formerly, when erecting a funeral house for an important man, an attendant in the next life was provided for him by placing a slave, alive, in the hole dug for one of the upright posts, the end of the post being set directly over him. On the Samba I found myself in close proximity to regions widely spoken of elsewhere in Borneo as being inhabited by particularly wild people, called Ulu-Ots: (ulu = men; ot = at the headwaters). Their habitats are the mountainous regions in which originate the greatest rivers of Borneo, the Barito, the Kapuas (western), and the Mahakam, and the mountains farther west, from whence flow the Katingan, the Sampit, and the Pembuang, are also persistently assigned to these ferocious natives. They are usually believed to have short tails and to sleep in trees. Old Malays may still be found who tell of fights they had forty or more years ago with these wild men. The Kahayans say that the Ulu-Ots are cannibals, and have been known to force old men and women to climb trees and hang by their hands to the branches until sufficiently exhausted to be shaken down and killed. The flesh is roasted before being eaten. They know nothing of agriculture and to them salt and lombok are non-existent. Few of them survive. On the authority of missionaries there are some three hundred such savages at the headwaters of the Kahayan, who are described as very Mongolian in appearance, with oblique eyes and prominent cheekbones, and who sleep in trees. They are considered inveterate head-hunters, and the skulls of people killed by them are used as drinking-vessels. Controleur Michielsen, who in his report devotes two pages of hearsay to them, concludes thus: "In the Upper Katingan for a long time to come it will be necessary to exercise a certain vigilance at night against attacks of the Ulu-Ot head-hunters." A civilised Kahayan who, twelve years previous to my visit, came upon one unawares at the headwaters of the Samba, told me that the man carried in his right hand a sampit, in his left a shield, and his parang was very large. He wore a chavat made of fibre, and in his ear-lobes were inserted large wooden disks; his skin was rather light and showed no tatuing; the feet were unusually broad, the big toe turned inward, and he ran on his toes, the heels not touching the ground. Without precluding the possibility, although remote, of some small, still unknown tribe, it seems safe to assume that Ulu-Ot is simply a collective name for several mountain tribes of Central Borneo with whom we already have made acquaintance--the Penyahbongs, Saputans, Bukits, and Punans. Of these the last two are nomads, the first named have recently been induced to become agriculturists, and the Saputans some fifty years ago were still in an unsettled state. The "onder" at Braui confirmed this opinion when telling me of the fight he and thirty other Duhoi once had with Penyahbongs from whom he captured two heads--for they are Ulu-Ots, he said. Before all my things were cleared away from my camping-place and taken to the prahus, the kapala and three women, one of them his wife, came and seated themselves in a row close together in a squatting position. With the few words of Malay he knew he explained that the women wanted to say good-bye. No doubt it was their way, otherwise they have no greetings. At the landing float the "onder" and his Kahayan assistant were present to see us off. When leaving I was on the point of wishing I might return some day to the unsophisticated Duhoi. On our arrival at Kuala Samba we found ourselves in a different atmosphere. The Bakompai, although affable, are inquisitive and aggressive, and do not inspire one with confidence. The cheerful old Kahayan who lived on board our big prahu to guard it had just one measure of rice left, and was promptly given more rations. On account of the low water and the difficulties attending my use of the _Selatan_ it had long been evident that I should have to give up my tour to the head of the Katingan River, but before returning I desired to make the ascent as far as to the first renowned kiham in order to see more of the Upper Katingans. My prahu leaked so badly that we had to bail it out constantly, and the men were the worst in my experience, lazy and very inefficient, only one of them being strong and agile. Not until eight o'clock in the evening did we reach our destination, the kampong Buntut Mangkikit. In beautiful moonlight I put up my tent on the clearing along the river bank in front of the houses, perhaps for the last time in a long period. The roar of the rapids nearly two kilometres distant was plainly audible and soothing to the nerves, reminding me of the subdued sound of remote waterfalls, familiar to those who have travelled in Norway. However, the kiham at this time was not formidable and comparatively few have perished there, but many in the one below, which, though lower in its fall and very long, is full of rocks. The nights here were surprisingly cool, almost cold, and the mornings very chilly. A Kahayan was the only person about the place who could speak Malay. The kapala presented the unusual spectacle of a man leaning on a long stick when walking, disabled from wasting muscles of the legs. I have seen a Lower Katingan who for two years had suffered in this way, his legs having little flesh left, though he was able to move. The kapala was a truthful and intelligent man who commanded respect. His wife was the greatest of the four blians here, all women; male blians, as usual, being less in demand. Her eyes were sunk in their sockets and she looked as if she had spent too many nights awake singing, also as if she had been drinking too much tuak. She had a staring though not unpleasant expression, was devoted to her religious exercises, and possessed an interesting personality. A majority of the women was disinclined to face the camera, one of them explaining that she was not ashamed but was afraid. However, an example in acquiescence was set by the blian and her family. She wore for the occasion an ancient Katingan bodice fitting snugly around the body, with tight sleeves, the material showing foreign influence but not the style of making. Another woman was dressed in the same way, and a big gold plate hung over the upper part of the chest, as is the prevailing mode among women and children. Gold is said to be found in the ground and the Katingans themselves make it into ornaments. Many of the men wore chavats. Of the men that were measured, one was sombre brown, darker than the rest, and three harelips were observed. A man may have from one to three wives, who sometimes fight, but all ends well. In each family there are at least two children, and often as many as seven, while one woman had borne eleven, of whom only four survived. The feminine fashion in hair-dressing is the same as that followed by the Duhoi, which looks well, the hair folded over on each side with some locks tied over the middle. I saw here two implements called duhong, knives shaped like broad spear points, relics of ancient times, with which the owners would not part. The Katingans are probably the friendliest and best tempered Dayaks I met. The children are tender hearted: when the kapala's nude little son, about two and a half years old, approached my film box his father spoke harshly to him; the child immediately began to cry bitterly and his mother, the great blian, soothed and affectionately kissed him until he became calm. The obliging kapala, in order to do his bit to induce the people to dance, offered to present one pig if I would give rice and salt. The dancing, which was performed around a blanga on a mat spread on the ground, was similar in character to what may be seen elsewhere in Borneo. Four men and four women performed one dance. In another only women took part, and they moved one behind another in a circle with unusually quick, short steps, signifying that good antohs had taken possession of them. The principal blian later sat down on a mat and sang; three women sitting near accompanied her by beating small oblong drums. They all became enthusiastic, for music attracts good antohs. In the Katingan language the word lauk means creature; an additional word, earth, water, or air, as the case may be, signifying whether an animal, a bird, or a fish is meant. Having accomplished in a short time as much as could be expected, we returned to Kuala Samba, and from there, in the first week of January, started southward in our big prahu. The river was very low, and after half an hour we were compelled to take on board two Bakompai men as pilots among the sand banks. At Ball the coffin was found to be ready and was taken on board. It had been well-made, but the colours were mostly, if not all, obtained from the trader and came off easily, which was somewhat disappointing. It seemed smaller than the original, though the makers insisted that it was quite similar and challenged me to go and see the one they had copied, which was in the vicinity, behind the kampong. Here I saw a new and somewhat striking arrangement for the disposition of the dead. A small white house contained several coffins guarded by seven kapatongs of medium size, which stood in a row outside, with the lower part of their legs and bodies wrapped in mats. The skull of a water-buffalo and many pigs' jaws hung near by. Two tall memorial staffs, called pantars, had been erected, but instead of the wooden image of the great hornbill which usually adorns the top, the Dutch flag presented itself to view. Appearing beautiful to the Dayaks it had been substituted for the bird. The all-important second funeral having been celebrated, the dead occupied their final resting place. We spent the night at a large kampong where there was a fine, straightforward kapala who appeared at a disadvantage only when, with intent to please me, he wore clothes, but from whom I gained valuable information. He also had a sense of humour, and next day when our coffin was carried ashore, in order that I might be enlightened in regard to the significance of its decorations, he laughed heartily and exclaimed in astonishment at the sight. With the exception of the upper part of the back, few parts of his body were left uncovered with tatu marks. Over and below each knee he had extra designs to protect him from disease, he said, each of which represented a fish of ancient times. At our next and last stopping-place the small pasang grahan, on very tall poles, was in poor condition and the roof was full of holes, but the kapala, an uncommonly satisfactory man--there was no Malay about him--saw to it that rough palm-leaf mats were placed above the ceiling to protect against possible rain, and two large rattan mats were spread on the shaky floor, so we had a good camping-place. There was an unusually pretty view of the majestic river from up there, including a wide bend just below. Experience modifies one's requirements, and I felt content as I took my bath at the outer corner of the shed, high above the still water on which the moon shone placidly. CHAPTER XXXIII KASUNGAN--THE WEALTH OF THE DAYAKS--ANIMISM--GUARDIANS OF THE DEAD--HUGE SERPENTS--CROCODILES--GOVERNMENT OF DAYS GONE BY--KATINGAN CUSTOMS AND BELIEFS Next day we arrived at Kasungan, where we were offered quarters in a large room in the "onder's" house. There was no news of our steamer, the _Selatan_, and I remained about a week. The "onder," a Kahayan who had been here twenty-five years, had the intelligence and reliability that seems characteristic of the Dayaks of the Kahayan and Kapuas Rivers, and, as a matter of course, possessed extensive knowledge of the Katingan. He had lately been converted to Christianity. The kampong was quite large, and although it has been subject to the influence of Malay traders a long time and quite recently to that of a missionary, still the natives offered considerable of interest. It is only eight years since the communal house obtained. Before some of the houses stand grotesque kapatongs, and the majority of the population lives in the atmosphere of the long ago. I was still able to buy ethnological articles and implements which are becoming increasingly difficult to secure. On entering a house the salutation is, _Akko domo_ (I (akko) arrive). To this is answered, _Munduk_ (Sit down). On leaving the visitor says, _Akko buhao_ (I am going). To which is responded, Come again. On my way to visit a prominent Katingan I passed beneath a few cocoanut trees growing in front of the house, as is the custom, while a gentle breeze played with the stately leaves. "Better get away from there," my native guide suddenly said; "a cocoanut may fall," and we had scarcely arrived inside the house before one fell to the ground with a resounding thump half a metre from where I had been standing. Eighteen years previously a Katingan had been killed in this way as he descended the ladder. Eleven years later another was carrying his child on his back when a cocoanut of small size hit and killed the little one. The man whose house I visited was rich, according to Dayak standard, not in money, but in certain wares that to him are of equal or greater value. Besides thirty gongs, rows of fine old valuable jars stood along the walls of his room. There are several varieties of these blangas, some of which are many hundred years old and come from China or Siam. This man possessed five of the expensive kind, estimated by the "onder" at a value of six thousand florins each. He consented to have one of the ordinary kind, called gutshi, taken outside to be photographed; to remove the real blanga, he said, would necessitate the sacrifice of a fowl. To the casual observer no great difference between them is apparent, their worth being enhanced by age. In 1880 Controleur Michielsen saw thirty blangas in one house on the Upper Katingan, among them several that in his estimation were priceless. Over them hung forty gongs, of which the biggest, unquestionably, had a diameter of one metre. Without exaggeration it represented, he says, a value of f. 15,000, and he was informed that the most valuable blangas were buried in the wilds at places known only to the owner. No European had been there since Schwaner, over thirty years previously, passed the river. In front of another house was a group of very old-looking stones which are considered to be alive, though such is not the belief with reference to all stones, information in that regard being derived from dreams. Those on view here are regarded as slaves (or soldiers) of a raja, who is represented by a small kapatong which presides in a diminutive, half-tumbled-down house, and who is possessed by a good antoh that may appear in human shape at night. When the people of the kampong need rice or have any other wish, a fowl or pig is killed; the blood is smeared on the raja and on the slaves, and some of the meat is deposited in a jar standing next to him. When advised of what is wanted the raja gives the slaves orders to see that the people are supplied. At each side of the base of a ladder, a little further on, stood a post with a carving of a tiger-cat grasping a human head and guarding the entrance. They are a protection to the owner of the house against evil antohs; it is as if they were saying: "Keep away, antoh! You see I slew a man, so you know what will happen to you!" The bones of dead persons were kept at the back of at least one dwelling, inside the appropriate small house provided for the purpose, and some curious kapatongs of large size were to be seen, some of which had guarded the dead for more than a hundred years. One has the head of a good antoh, showing big corner teeth and out-hanging tongue, as he watches that no bad antohs come to injure the dead man's soul. A woman carrying a betel box is believed to watch well because when chewing betel one does not sleep; but in her case there must always be a male kapatong near by, for a woman alone is not sufficient protection. Betel makes the mouth and lips beautiful in the estimation of the natives, therefore many kapatongs are seen with betel box in hand. A very extraordinary guardian of the dead is a loving pair, the man's arm placed affectionately over the shoulder of his companion. Lovers do not sleep, hence they are good at watching, reasons the Dayak. In these regions I gathered some information about the huge serpent of which one hears occasionally in Borneo, called sahua by the Malays, and which, according to accounts, may attain a length of seven or eight metres. It is able to remain long under water, moves slowly on land, and can climb trees. Deer and pigs are its usual food, but at times it attacks and eats natives. A few years previously this python devoured a Katingan, and as it remains at the same place for some time after a meal, two days later it was found and killed. These Dayaks kill it with knives, spears being ineffectual, and the meat is eaten. A very large lizard is also said to be a man-eater. Crocodiles are numerous here, and at low water have been responsible for the disappearance of many Katingans. They are considered good antohs, but if one of the monsters devours a man arrangements are made to kill it, though otherwise the natives prefer not to do so and do not eat it. For the purpose of capture they use a piece of strong wood, about three centimetres thick, pointed at each end. A line of fibre a metre long is tied to the middle, and about half a metre above the surface of the water an ill-smelling monkey or dog is suspended from it as bait. When swallowed by the crocodile the stick usually becomes wedged in the mouth between the upper and lower jaws and he is hauled ashore. A few years before my visit the brother of the kapala was eaten by a crocodile as he and two other Katingans were fishing with a casting-net. While sitting in the prahu he was attacked by the animal and dragged below the surface of the water. The entire kampong was incensed and believed that a bad antoh had ordered the crocodile to commit the evil deed. A babi was immediately killed and the blood sacrificed to induce a good antoh to come and help them; they also danced for the same purpose, while some of them prepared the material with which to catch the reptile. They have been fishing for crocodiles ever since, for their religion prohibits quitting until the bait is taken either by the large fish, tapa, or by the python, called sahua. When either of these huge animals swallows the bait, that event is regarded as a sign from a good antoh to the effect that their task is finished. Many years may elapse before the message comes and the kapala, who had caught fifty, must still continue, for twenty years if necessary, until the sign appears. When preparing to kill crocodiles the magic use of rice is as essential as when the lives of men are to be taken, proceedings in both cases being identical. If a Katingan wants to get a head he must pay the blian to conjure with rice--a cupful is enough--and to dance. To have this done costs one or two florins. During incantations and dancing the blian throws the rice in the direction of the country where the man wants to operate. By the act of throwing the rice an antoh is called to assist and he causes the intended victim to become stupid and forgetful, therefore easily killed. From two to seven days later a start is made on the expedition, and when the head is cut the rice is sure to be found inside. In earlier days the kampongs were ruled by hereditary rajas called bakas, who held their people in firm subjection, and they are reported to have fought much among themselves. According to the "onder" of the kampong, it was not an unusual occurrence to murder a rich man and take his goods as well as his head, and as murder could not be compensated with money, his relatives having to avenge the deed, a vendetta ensued which might last five or six years. A custom which required a debtor to become the slave of his creditor, even in the case of brothers, has been abolished. Formerly when an enemy approached a curious message was sent from kampong to kampong. To the top of a spear was tied a tail feather of the rhinoceros hornbill, symbolising rapid movement, and also a woman's skirt of fibre with a bunch of odoriferous leaves attached. Women used to fasten these to the skirt in addition to those placed in the hair. This meant an urgent order for people to gather quickly for the fight, and in the event of failure to obey the call promptly the leaves and skirt signified unworthiness to wear masculine attire. Two methods of fire-making were in use here, by drilling or by friction with a rope made of fibre or rattan across a block of wood. The Katingan does not know the art of doing inlaid work on the blade of the parang, in which Kenyahs and Kayans excel, and he makes no earthen ware. Hair that has been cut from the head must be placed in a tree. Their sacred number is seven, as is that of the Ot-Danum, Kapuas, and Kahayan. As usual with Dayaks, all members of the family eat at the same time as the men. Sons and daughters inherit equally, while brothers and sisters receive nothing unless the deceased was childless. The father of a young man must arrange the payment for the bride, and probably receives remuneration himself for the service rendered. The son-in-law remains in the house of his father-in-law a year or more and assists him. A raja was privileged to have five or six wives. During the period of pregnancy both wife and husband are subject to the following restrictions: 1. They must not split firewood, otherwise harelip will result, or a child with double thumbs. 2. The arms or legs must not be cut off from any animal caught, else the child will have stumps of arms or legs. 3. When fish has been caught the couple must not open the head themselves; if they do the child will be born without ears. 4. The husband must not make fish hooks, or the child will be born doubled up in a wrong position, perhaps causing the mother's death. 5. Neither of them may stretch up either arm to take food from the hanging trays of bamboo, called toyang. Should they do so the child will come into the world arm first, or probably not be born. 6. They must not nail up boxes or anything else (nails were formerly of wood), nor tie up anything,--for instance, a rattan for drying clothes,--nor lock a trunk, else the child will not be born and the mother will die. 7. In case of feeling hot, if he or she should take off their upper garments they must not be tied round the neck, or the child will be born dead, with the navel cord around its neck. 8. The work of tying split bamboo sticks into loose mats, for instance such as are used in the bottom of the prahu, must not be done, or the child will be born with two and two or all four fingers grown together. 9. They must not put the cork in a bottle or place the cover on a bamboo basket containing rice in order to close it for a considerable time, as in that case the child will be born blind in one or both eyes, or with one ear, one nostril, or the rectum closed, but the cover may be put back on a basket from which rice is taken for daily use. 10. For five months the work of putting a handle on a parang and fastening it with damar must not be done else both mother and child would die. The name given the child when the umbilical cord is cut remains unchanged. Among names in vogue here for men are Bugis (black), Spear, Axe, Duhong (ancient knife), etc., Tingang and other names of birds, or names taken from animals, fish, trees, and fruit; many are called Peti, the Malay name for a steel trunk sold by traders. A person must not give his own name nor call by the name of his father, mother, father-in-law, mother-in-law, grandfather or grandmother, whether they are alive or dead. If one of these names is given there will be no luck, for instance, in fishing or hunting. There are many sorts of páli (sins) but all may be paid for in kind or by sacrifice. One of the most serious is that of a widow who marries before the second funeral of her husband has been solemnised. Although the rule does not apply to husband and wife, a man is forbidden to touch a woman's dress and vice versa, and transgression must be made good by sacrifice of a fowl or even a pig. In case a chavat or other article of clothing belonging to a man has been hung to dry after washing, and a woman other than his wife wishes to take the garment from the rattan line, she must use a stick for the purpose. Every big tree is believed to have an antoh in possession of it, some being well disposed, others of evil disposition. When a man is killed by falling from a tree, members of his family come and proceed to hit it with darts blown from the sumpitan, cut it with parangs, spear it, and as final punishment it is felled. Many people gather, angry with the tree antoh, and a feast is made for the purpose of calling a good spirit to drive away or kill the bad one. When a large tree falls no work is done for seven days. House building must cease and sacrificial offerings of pork and tuak are made to a good antoh to induce him to deal with the evil one that caused the mishap. Travellers who encounter omen birds, or hear the cry of a rusa at noon, or similar omens, camp for three days and then proceed to the nearest kampong to buy fowl, a pig, and eggs, in order to sacrifice not only to the bird or animal that gave the omen, but also to the good antoh which sent it. Seven days afterward the journey is continued. When a plandok (mouse-deer) appears underneath a house the owner is sure to die unless proper remedies are employed. If people succeed in catching the animal it is not killed, but smeared all over with cocoanut oil. Then they kill a dog, take its blood, which is mixed with rice and thrown to the plandok; also the blood of a fowl, with the same addition, is offered. The plandok's liao is given this to eat in order that he may not cause the occupant of the house to die; the animal is then carried into the utan, about an hour's walk, and set free. Three days afterward they sacrifice a pig, the blood of which, with the usual admixture, is given to the bad antoh who sent the plandok, with entreaties not to kill the man. For seven days the head of the house stays in the kampong, being free to bathe in the river and walk about, but he must not go outside the settlement. The red monkey is an attendant of a bad antoh, and if he enters a house or comes on the roof or underneath the house it is considered very unfortunate. There is no remedy and the owner must move elsewhere; the house is demolished, the wooden material carried away and erected in another kampong. Should he remain at the same place there would be much strife between him and his neighbours. If a wah-wah climbs on a roof the house will burn down. There is no remedy for this either; the incumbent leaves and makes a new home. On the other hand, should a scaly ant-eater enter a room it is a joyful event, indicating that the owner will become rich. The animal is caught, blood from a fowl is smeared over him, and he is carried back to the utan. If it should so happen that a red-backed lizard, a timid animal rather common about kampongs, enters a house it also brings good luck. A good antoh gave it the order to come, and it means much paddi, a gutshi, and other good things. Three fowls must be sacrificed and the people also dance. CHAPTER XXXIV FUNERAL CUSTOMS OF THE KATINGANS--DEPARTURE FROM KASUNGAN--AN ATTEMPTED VISIT TO SEMBULO--INDIFFERENT MALAYS--A STRANGE DISEASE--THE BELIEF IN TAILED PEOPLE--THE LEGEND OF THE ANCESTOR OF TAILED MEN When a liao departs through the top of the head and death occurs, gongs are beaten for twenty-four hours. Five or six men set to work to make a beautiful coffin similar to the one already described; this is often finished in a day and the corpse, having been washed, is immediately placed within it. For a man a new chavat of wood fibre is adjusted around the loins, without other vestments. Another day is consumed in the work of decorating the coffin, which is done by men, while women weave diminutive mats, which are left less than half finished and are laid on top of the casket. For three days and as many nights the remains are kept in the house, and, if a man, his duhong (ancient knife), parang, knife, spear, sumpitan, betel box, tobacco container, and much food are placed nearby. After these matters have received attention, food is eaten by those present. Fires are kept burning within the house and also outside, and after each meal the people strike one another's legs with firebrands in order to forget their grief. Members of the family, who begin to wail immediately after his death, continue to do so constantly for seven days, and they wear no red garments until after the tiwah feast which constitutes his second funeral. The coffin is buried in the ground or placed on a crude platform, and, when this work is finished, thorough ablution in water containing leaves which possess qualities especially adapted to this purpose is the rule for everybody concerned. This is done to the end that no odour of the dead shall linger, thus exposing the living to danger from the bad antoh that is responsible for the unfortunate event which necessitated their recent activities. Later, all partake of tuak, including the children. After this preliminary disposal of the body the family begins to plan for the second and final funeral, which is considered a compensation to the departed soul for the property he left behind. Caution demands that they be very punctilious about this, for the ghost, though believed to be far above this plane, is thought to be resentful, with power to cause misfortunes of various kinds and therefore is feared. Until recently, when a man of means died, a slave had to be killed and his head placed on top of the coffin. When time for the second funeral, the tiwah, came round another slave was killed and his head hung near by. They are his attendants in the next life, but many more and elaborate arrangements are necessary to satisfy the demands of the liao, and they must be fully complied with on the celebration of the tiwah, the most elaborate of all feasts in Borneo. When the deceased is well-to-do this observance may follow immediately, but usually years go by and many liaoes are served at the same time. On the great occasion the coffin is put on a big fire for a couple of hours until the flesh has been burned from the bones, which are then collected in a small box and placed in a house of limited proportions especially constructed for this purpose and called sandung. It is made of ironwood, and in these regions the people have a preference for placing it high above the ground, but it may also be put underground in a subterranean chamber also made of ironwood, which may take five or six months to construct and which is large enough to accommodate a family. The feast lasts one week, during which food and tuak are provided. Every night the women dance inside the house, around a tree composed of many bamboo stalks placed together so as to form a large trunk. As elsewhere mentioned, (Chapter XIV), the dancing, which is similar to that which follows the harvest, is for the benefit of the ghost and is distinct from the usual performance. As soon as the tiwah feast has been decided upon the people start simultaneously to perfect the various arrangements, some looking for a water-buffalo or two, others beginning to make the several contrivances which the occasion demands. Many men are thus occupied for several months. There are experts in the required handiwork, though a skilful man may be capable of performing all the various tasks. In earlier days the different memorials and the box containing the bones were placed in front of the house of the deceased, but of late years government officials have made some changes in this arrangement. When preparing for a tiwah feast it was the custom to close the river for perhaps three months by suspending a rattan rope on which were hung many spears of wood, tail feathers of the great hornbill, and leaves of certain trees. After a head had been secured the impediment was removed, but the government has forbidden the temporary obstruction. A most important matter is the construction of the device to which the water-buffalo, formerly the slave, is tied when sacrificed. In its make-up it expresses symbolically the rules of behaviour for the widow until after the feast has been celebrated. Its name is panyanggaran, an obscure word which probably may be derived from sangar, which means to kill; the place of killing. The foundation is a large post, usually of ironwood, firmly planted in the ground; its top is pointed and a little below, on either side, is attached horizontally a piece of dressed wood like two arms. Further below a number of sticks are affixed to each side, pointing obliquely upward, and all on a plane with the arms above. These sticks, usually three on each side but sometimes more, are considered as spears, and the top of each is finished with a rosette representing four spear-points, called kalapiting. The post itself is also regarded as a spear and is called _balu_ (widow), while the sticks are named _pampang-balu_ (widow rules). It seems possible that the post also represents the woman, head, arms, and body being recognisable. However that may be, the attached sticks are regarded as so many rules and reminders for the widow. In Kasungan I saw in one case eight sticks, in another only four. The rules may thus vary or be applicable to different cases, though some are fundamental. Assuming that the requirements are six in number, according to my informant, the following should be observed by the widow: (1) To make the tiwah feast; (2) to refrain from remarriage until the feast has been celebrated; (3) to abstain from sexual intercourse; (4) to remain in the same place until after the feast; (5) to ask permission from the family of the deceased if she wants to leave the kampong temporarily; (6) to wear no red garments until the feast has been completed. Should any of these injunctions be disregarded a gutshi, the value of which may be twenty florins, must be paid to his relatives. If the widow desires to marry earlier than the tiwah feast she is required to pay the entire cost of the celebration, and sometimes an additional amount. A simpler device than the panyanggaran is also used, serving a similar purpose and called sapundo. It consists of an upright post carved to represent the face of a good antoh, with tongue hanging out. To this pillar is tied a water-buffalo (as substitute for the slave formerly employed), a cow, or pig. As the sapundo is much easier to make it is used by the orang kampong or poor people. For a rich man who has gone hence both contrivances may be erected. Another matter demanding attention is the erection of a tall, rather slender pole of ironwood, called pantar. A gong or gutshi strung near the top signifies that the deceased was a person of wealth and prominence, while a wooden image of the rhinoceros hornbill occupies a lofty position on the pinnacle. On account of its ability to discern objects at a great distance, this bird is regarded as a good watchman to guard the sacrifice, whether it be a water-buffalo or other animal. The pantar itself simply means "in memoriam," as if enjoining: "Don't forget this man!" These primitive monuments sometimes last over a hundred years, and more than one may be raised for the same man. Should it prove impossible to secure a water-buffalo, an ordinary cow may serve as sacrifice. The family thereby presents the animal's liao (soul) to the liao of the deceased, and the blian by dancing and sacrifice calls the latter to come and eat. Not only this, but the liao of every animal, bird, and fish which the family eats from the time of his death until the tiwah feast is given to him. Account is kept by incised cross-cuts on certain posts, notifying him of the number. I was told that when a raja died similar marks of account were made on a slave. The jaws of pigs or other animals, hanging by scores in the houses, together with heads of fish and legs of birds, are similar accounts for the same purpose, and all close with the tiwah feast. A kapatong must be made, or, if the deceased were rich, perhaps two or three, which are inaugurated by the blian in the usual way, to be the ghost's attendants and guardians. The remaining duties to be performed are the making of a box or coffin for the bones to rest in, and the house in which it is to be deposited, either above or under the ground as may be decided. These tasks accomplished, no further responsibility devolves upon the widow or other members of the family. On my return journey I stopped a few hours at a kampong in the vicinity to see some stones that, according to Katingan belief, are alive and multiplying. As my visit was expected, a fowl had just been sacrificed to these guardians of the kampong, and a fire made from bark was burning near by to keep the stones comfortable, so they would not be angry at being photographed. There were two roundish specimens, almost honeycombed with small cavities, one of them, scarcely twenty-five centimetres high, being regarded as masculine and the other, smaller and covered with green moss, was supposed to be of feminine gender. Originally, as the story goes, only these two were there, but later six "children" appeared, as evidenced by six smaller stones lying close to the "parents." The domain held sacred to this interesting family was bounded by four pieces of wood, each about a metre in length. Over all was extended a small square piece of red cloth supported on four upright sticks, which had been placed there two weeks before on behalf of a sick man whose recovery was attributed to this act of veneration. In front of the small enclosure lay four stones of inconsiderable size, lying in two pairs and supposed to be attendants; in the rear was a small house, reputed to be over three hundred years old, its purpose being to protect the stones, where offerings of food, with skulls of deer and pigs, were deposited. Next day we met the _Selatan_ on its way up the river, brought our luggage on board, and continued our journey. We had a disagreeable night before arriving at Bandjermasin; in fact, it is risky to travel south of Borneo in a steam-launch in January. As the wind was strong and the waves were too high for us to proceed, anchor was thrown and we were tossed about, the lamps went out, and, according to the captain, the boat nearly turned over. Mr. Loing, prostrate with seasickness, saved himself from being thrown overboard by grasping the rail. After packing my collections I again set out for Sampit with the intention of revisiting Sembulo by another route, proceeding by prahu up the Kuala Sampit as far as possible, and then marching overland to the lake. The controleur was absent, but his native clerk and the kapala together got me the prahus and the men, such as the place afforded. As usual, the Malay coolies were late in arriving and began making many difficulties about various things. To cheer them I gave each f. 1.50 in advance, which made them all happy, and in buoyant, talkative spirits they immediately went off to buy rice, dried fish, tobacco, cigarettes, and other things. All was well, and at ten o'clock in the morning we finally started, with a native policeman in attendance. An hour later the coolies wanted to cook rice. It did not take long to discover that they were not very useful, though the clerk had done his best. Two brothers were intolerably lazy, continually resting the paddles, lighting cigarettes, washing their faces, etc., the elder, after the full meal they had eaten, actually falling asleep at times. The interest of the men centred in eating and early camping, and we made slow progress, detained besides by a thunder-storm, as it was impossible to make headway against the strong wind. The man at the helm of the small prahu was intelligent, and from him I finally obtained information about a place to stop for the night. At six o'clock we arrived at the mouth of the Kuala Sampit, where we found it difficult to effect a landing on account of the dilapidated condition of the landing-float. Some distance from the water stood a lonely house, in genuine Malay style, with high-gabled roof. The stairs afforded precarious access, a condition which may have been regarded as a protection, but more likely it was due to laziness and want of care. However that may have been, the interior was surprisingly substantial, with an excellent floor like that in a ballroom. I slept in a detached ramshackle room used as a kitchen, comfortable because of being open to the air. In the morning the Malays were again too late. I was ready for a start at six o'clock, but about that time they began to cook. The small river, perhaps twenty metres wide, is deep enough to have allowed a steam-launch of the _Selatan's_ dimensions to go as far as the kampong Rongkang, our first destination, and there is little current. At five o'clock we had to stop to give the men opportunity to prepare their rice, and in the evening we arrived at Rongkang. The gongs were being beaten lustily in the darkness; we thought it must be on account of a death, which proved to be the case, a woman having died some days before. The house which was placed at my disposal was more nearly airtight than usual. The kapala said it was difficult to get men, but he would do his best. A strange epidemic had lately appeared, and some deaths had occurred in the kampongs of this region. In the room I occupied a woman had recently recovered from an attack of a week's duration. The disease, which probably is a variety of cholera, was described to me as being a severe diarrhoea accompanied by vomiting, paralysis, and fever, the crisis occurring in three to five days. The disorder appears to rise from the feet, and if it settles between the liver and heart may prove fatal in half a day. As I learned later, this illness, which the Malays call men-tjo-tjok, is usually present in the inland region of the Sampit River, and is also found on the upper parts of the Kahayan and Pembuang Rivers. People in this neighbourhood were lappar (hungry), having no rice, and the men were absent in the utan looking for rattan, white damar, and rubber, which they exchange for rice from Chinese traders. Under such circumstances, chiefly women and children are left in the kampongs. Of nearly thirty men needed for my overland trip, only three could be mustered here. One Dayak who was perfectly well in the evening came next morning to consult me about the prevalent illness which he had contracted during the night. The only available course was to return to Sampit. The name of the Dayaks here and on Lake Sembulo is Tamoan (or Samoan), with intermixture of Katingans, who are said to understand each other's language. Most of these friendly natives had fair-sized beards, some only mustaches. The elder men complainingly said that the younger ones no longer want to tatu nor cut the front teeth. No haste was apparent about making the coffin for the woman who had been dead four days; although not yet commenced they said it would be completed that day. The left bank of the river is much higher than the right, which is flooded, therefore the utan on that side presents a very different appearance, with large, fine-looking trees and no dense underbrush. All was fresh and calm after the rain which prevails at this season (February). There were showers during the afternoon, at times heavy, and the Malays were much opposed to getting wet, wanting to stop paddling, notwithstanding the fact that the entire prahu was covered with an atap. As we approached the mouth of the river, where I intended to camp for the night, I noticed a prahu halting at the rough landing place of a ladang, and as we passed it the rain poured down. When the single person who was paddling arose to adjust the scanty wet clothing I perceived that it was a woman, and looking back I discovered her husband snugly at ease under a palm-leaf mat raised as a cover. He was then just rising to walk home. That is the way the men of Islam treat their women. Even one of the Malay paddlers saw the humour of the situation and laughed. At Rongkang I was told the legend of the dog that in ancient times had come from the inland of Borneo to Sembulo, where it became progenitor of the tailed people. In various parts of Borneo I heard about natives with short tails, and there are to-day otherwise reliable Dayaks, Malays, and even Chinese, who insist that they have seen them. Especially in regard to their presence at the lake of Sembulo, at the kampong of the same name, the consensus of opinion is strong. That place is the classical ground for the rumour of tailed men, and I thought it worth while, before leaving Borneo, to make another attempt later to reach Sembulo and investigate the reasons for the prevalent belief in tailed humans in that locality. The most complete legend on this subject I obtained from a prominent ex-district kapala, Kiai Laman, a Kahayan Dayak converted to Islam. He has travelled much in certain sections of Borneo, is interested in folklore matters, and told his stories without apparent errors or contradictions. The tale here rendered is from the Ot-Danums on the Upper Kahayan River. A male dog called Belang started out to hunt for game--pig, deer, plandok. The kampong heard him bark in the manner common to dogs when on the trail of an animal, and then the baying ceased. The owner watched for the animal to return, but for half a year there was no news of him. In the meantime the dog had gone to Sembulo, making the trip in fifteen days. He appeared there in the shape of a man, took part in the work of the kampong, and married. His wife bore a child who had a tail, not long, about ten centimetres. "I do not like to tell a lie," said my raconteur. "What the sex was I do not know, but people say it was a male infant. She had another child, a female, also with a tail." In the ladang the woman thought the crying of her children sounded very strange. "It is not like that of other infants," she said. "Other people have no tails and you have; you look like the children of a dog." Their father replied: "In truth I am a dog," and immediately he resumed his natural form, ran away, and after an interval arrived in the Upper Kahayan, where his owner welcomed him, and the dog lived to old age and died. In due time the two children married and had large families, all of whom had tails, but since the Malays came and married Sembulo women the tails have become shorter and shorter. At present most of the people have none, and those that remain are not often seen because clothes are now worn; however, many travellers to Sembulo have beheld them. The rendering from Rongkal is similar, with this difference: The man from Upper Kahayan followed his dog--which at sight of his master resumed canine form--and killed it. According to a Malay version, a raja of Bandjermasin was much disliked and the people made him leave the country. He took a female dog with him in the prahu and went to Sembulo, where he had children all of whom had tails. CHAPTER XXXV A VISIT TO KUALA KAPUAS--A BREED OF STUMP-TAILED DOGS--THE SHORT-TAILED CATS OF BORNEO--A SECOND EXPEDITION TO LAKE SEMBULO-NATIVES UNDISMAYED BY BERI-BERI--THE TAMOANS--THE PRACTICE OF INCISION The second trip to Sembulo had to be postponed until the return of the controleur of Sampit from an extended tour, when the steam-launch _Selatan_ would again be placed at my service. During the weeks of waiting I made a trip to Kuala Kapuas, northwest of Bandjermasin. The Kapuas River is broad here, I should say at least 600 metres; if there is any wind one cannot cross because the prahus are all made of iron-wood and sink easily, owing to the fact that they are heavy and do not accommodate themselves to the waves. A German missionary and family had been here ten years. The children looked a little pale but strong, and had never had malaria nor children's diseases. I soon became convinced that there was little here for me to learn. The Dayaks have been too long exposed to Malay and European influences, though still able to make splendid mats, for which this place is well known. Malay ascendancy is strong on the lower courses of the two great rivers that meet here, on the Kapuas as far as Djangkang, on the Kahayan as far as Pahandut. I carried away mud for future zoological examination from the bottom of a pool, ten minutes walk from the shore. There are always small fish in it, and three or four times a year it is flooded. In dry seasons, although not every year, the water of the sea reaches as far as Mandumei. In Bandjermasin my attention was drawn to an interesting breed of stump-tailed dogs which belonged to Mr. B. Brouers. The mother is a white terrier which has but half a tail, as if cut off. When she had pups, two had stump tails, two had long ones, and one had none; her sister has no tail. Though the fathers are the ordinary yellowish Dayak dogs with long tails, the breed apparently has taken nothing or next to nothing from them. They are all white, sometimes with hardly noticeable spots of yellow. Nobody who has travelled in Borneo can have failed to notice the great number of short-tailed cats. In Bandjermasin those with long tails are very rare, and among Malays and Dayaks I do not remember ever having seen them. They are either stub-tailed or they have a ball at the end of a tail that is usually twisted and exceptionally short. These cats are small and extremely tame, and can hardly be pushed away with a kick, because they have always been used to having their own way in the house. They are more resourceful and enterprising than the ordinary domestic cat, using their claws to an almost incredible extent in climbing down perpendicular wooden walls, or in running under the roof on rafters chasing mice. I have twice photographed such cats, a liberty which they resented by striking viciously at the man who held them and growling all the time. Their accustomed food is rice and dried fish. The steamship _Janssens_ had recently reduced its already infrequent sailings for Singapore, which caused some delay, but finally, toward the end of March, I embarked for Sampit. I was glad to see the controleur, who came down to the pier, for the rare occasions when steamers call here are almost festive events, and arrangements were at once made for my journey to Sembulo. At Pembuang we took on board the native kapala of the district, who was to accompany me; he also brought an attendant, a cook, and a policeman, all natives. Twelve hours later, when we arrived at the kampong Sembulo, the kapala who came on board the _Selatan_ informed us that no Dayaks were there. As the lake was low and the water continued to fall it was impossible to proceed to Bangkal, the other kampong, or to remain here more than a few days. Therefore, at my request the native authorities agreed to have the Bangkal Dayaks congregate here, the kapala himself undertaking to bring them. The population of the kampong Sembulo, formerly called Pulau Tombak, at the present time is Malay, comprising more than two hundred full-grown men, nearly all recent arrivals from Bandjermasin, Sampit, Pembuang, and other places. Very little rice is planted because the soil is sandy and unsuited to cultivation, therefore the inhabitants confine their activities mainly to rubber gathering. At that time about a hundred men were busy in the jungle on the opposite side, gathering white rubber, which is plentiful in the surrounding country. They cross the lake in their small prahus, pole them up the streams, and remain perhaps three months in the utan working under adverse conditions. When engaged in their pursuit they must always stand in water, which covers the ground and is usually shallow but at times reaches to the armpit. Four weeks previously an epidemic of beri-beri had started with a mortality of one or two every day. When attacked by the disease they return to the kampong but only few recover, most of them dying from one or the other of the two forms of beri-beri. Nevertheless, the remainder continue the work undismayed--"business going on as usual." In the tropics life and death meet on friendly terms. "That is a sad phase of this country," said a Briton to me in India; "you shake hands with a man to-day and attend his funeral to-morrow." At its deepest part the lake measures about seven metres. From May to August, when the Pembuang River is small and the lake is low, the depth is reduced to a metre. People then must walk far out to get water. Every afternoon we had gales accompanied by heavy rain from the northeast, although once it came from the southwest, and the _Selatan_ had to put out another anchor. I was told that similar storms are usual every afternoon at that season (April), during which prahus do not venture out; apparently they also occur around Sampit and arc followed by calm nights. Eighteen Dayaks were brought here from Bangkal. Of these, nine were Tamoan, the tribe of the region, eight Katingan, and one Teroian (or Balok) from Upper Pembuang. They were measured, photographed, and interviewed. One man looked astonishingly like a Japanese. The name of the tribe, Tamoan, also pronounced Samoan, means to wash. The tatu marks are the same as those of the Katingans. At present these natives have only six kampongs, three of them above Sampit. Cultivating rice was very difficult, they complained, on account of the poor soil and wet weather. The lake has few fish and they cannot be caught except when the water is low. There are no large serpents here, and neither snakes, dogs, nor crocodiles are eaten; but the rusa is accepted as food. Fruits, as the durian and langsat, are rather scarce. Fire is made by twirling, and these natives use the sumpitan. They know how to make tuak, crushing the rice, boiling it, and then pouring it into a gutshi until the vessel is half full, the remaining space being filled with water. In three days the product may be drunk, but sometimes it is allowed to stand a month, which makes it much stronger. If there is no tuak there can be no dancing, they said. Many remarked upon the expense of obtaining a wife, the cost sometimes amounting to several hundred florins, all of which must be earned by gathering rubber. The tiwah feast is observed, but as to legends there are none, and their language and customs are disappearing. These Tamoans are disintegrating chiefly on account of the ravages of cholera. About forty years previously an epidemic nearly extinguished Bangkal, and there was another in 1914. The result is that the population has changed, people from other kampongs, at times from other tribes, taking the places of the dead. At the kampong Sembulo there appear to be no Tamoans remaining, the Malays having easily superseded them. Although my journey to the lake yielded no evidence to substantiate the legend connected with it, because I found no Dayaks left "to tell the tale," still, satisfaction is derived even from a negative result. Having accomplished what was possible I returned to Sampit, arriving almost at the same time a sailing ship came in from Madura, the island close to northeastern Java. It was of the usual solid type, painted white, red, and green, and loaded with obi, a root resembling sweet potatoes, which on the fourth day had all been sold at retail. A cargo of terasi, the well-known spicy relish made from crawfish and a great favourite with Malays and Javanese, was then taken on board. In the small prison of Sampit, which is built of iron-wood, the mortality from beri-beri among the inmates was appalling. Nine men, implicated in the murder of two Chinese traders, in the course of eight months while the case was being tried, all died except a Chinaman who was taken to Bandjermasin. I understood a new prison was about to be erected. It seems improbable that ironwood has any connection with this disorder, but Mr. Berger, manager of the nearby rubber plantation, told me the following facts, which may be worth recording: Six of his coolies slept in a room with ironwood floor, and after a while their legs became swollen in the manner which indicates beri-beri. He moved them to another room, gave them katjang idju, the popular vegetable food, and they soon recovered. He then replaced the ironwood floor with other material, and after that nobody who slept in the room was affected in a similar way. I met in Sampit three Dayaks from the upper country of the Katingan on whom the operation of incision had been performed. According to reliable reports this custom extends over a wide area of the inland, from the upper regions of the Kapuas, Kahayan, and Barito Rivers in the east, stretching westward as far as and including the tribes of the Kotawaringin. Also, in the Western Division on the Upper Kapuas and Melawi Rivers, the same usage obtains. In Bandjermasin prominent Mohammedans, one of them a Malay Hadji, told me that the Malays also practise incision instead of circumcision. The Malays, moreover, perform an operation on small girls, which the Dayaks do not. The controleur invited me to take part in a banquet which he gave to celebrate the completion of a road. There were present Malay officials, also Chinamen, and one Japanese. The latter, who arrived at Sampit one and a half years before with forty florins, had since increased his capital to a thousand through the sale of medicines to natives whom he reached by going up the rivers. We were seated at three tables, twenty-eight guests. The natives were given viands in addition to the menu provided, because they must have rice. Their women had helped to cook--no small undertaking for so many in an out-of-the-way place like Sampit. It was an excellent dinner; such tender, well-prepared beef I had not enjoyed for a long time. Claret, apollinaris, and beer were offered, the latter appearing to be the favourite. Women were served in another room after the men had dined. FOLKLORE OF SOME OF THE TRIBES IN DUTCH BORNEO VISITED BY THE AUTHOR 1. THE MOTHERLESS BOY (From the Penyahbongs, kampong Tamaloë) Ulung Tiung was left at home by his father who went out hunting. Borro, the cocoanut-monkey, came and asked for food, but when Ulung gave him a little he refused to eat it and demanded more. The boy, who was afraid of him, then gave more, and Borro ate until very little remained in the house. The monkey then said, "I am afraid of your father, and want to go home." "Go," replied the boy, "but return again." When the father came home in the evening he was angry that the food had been taken. The following day when the father went out hunting, Borro again came asking for food. The boy, at first unwilling, finally yielded; the monkey ate with much gusto and as before wanted to go home. "Do not go," said the boy, "my father is far away." "I smell that he is near," said Borro, and went. When the father returned in the evening and saw that the food again had been eaten he was very angry with the boy, who replied: "Borro ate it--I did not take any." Whereupon the father said: "We will be cunning; next time he comes tell him I have gone far away. Make a swing for him near your mat, and when he is in it tie rattan around him and swing him." The father went away and the monkey came again and asked for food, and got it. When he had eaten the boy said: "You had better get into the swing near my mat." Borro liked to do that and seated himself in it, while the boy tied rattan around him and swung him. After a little while the monkey, fearing that the father might come back, said he wanted to get out, but the boy replied, "Father is not coming before the evening," at the same time tying more rattan around him, and strongly, too. The father came home and fiercely said: "You have been eating my food for two days." Thereupon he cut off Borro's head, and ordered his son to take him to the river, clean him, and prepare the flesh to be cooked. The boy took Borro's body to the river, opened it and began to clean it, but all the small fish came and said: "Go away! What you put into the water will kill us." The boy then took the monkey some distance off and the big fish came and said: "Come nearer, we want to help you eat him." The sisters of Borro now arrived, and his brothers, father, children, and all his other relatives, and they said to Ulung Tiung: "This is probably Borro." "No," he said, "this is a different animal." Then the monkeys, believing what he said, went away to look for Borro, except one of the monkey children, who remained behind, and asked: "What are you doing here?" "What a question!" the boy answered; "I am cutting up this animal, Borro." The child then called all the monkeys to return, and they captured Ulung Tiung and carried him to their house and wanted to kill him. "Don't kill me," he said, "I can find fruit in the utan." The monkeys permitted him to do that, and told him to return in the evening, but the boy said that first he would have to dream. In the morning the monkeys asked him what he had dreamed. "There is plenty of fruit in the mountain far away," he answered, pointing afar, and all the monkeys went out to the mountain leaving their wives and children behind. When they were all gone Ulung Tiung killed the women and children with a stick, and went home to his father. "I killed the women and children," he declared, "but the men had not come back." "We will watch for them with sumpitan," said his father, and when the monkeys returned and found that all who had remained at home were dead, they began to look for Ulung Tiung, but he and his father killed half of them with sumpitan and the rest ran away. NOTE.--Ulung Tiung is the name for a boy whose mother is dead, but whose father is alive. For the sake of convenience I have maintained the Malay name "borro" for the cocoanut-monkey. 2. THE FATHERLESS BOY (From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloë) Ulung Ela made a fish-trap and when he returned next morning he found it full of fish. He put them in his rattan bag, which he slung on his back and started for home. As he walked, he heard an antoh, Aaton Kohang, singing, and he saw many men and women, to whom he called out: "It is much better you come to my place and sing there." Aaton Kohang said: "Very well, we will go there." The boy continued his march, and when he came home he gave one fish to his mother to roast, which she wrapped in leaves and put on the live coals. He also prepared fish for himself, ate quickly, and begged his mother to do the same. The mother asked: "Why do you hurry so?" The boy, who did not want to tell her that he had called an antoh, then said that it was not necessary to hurry. After they had finished eating, in the evening Aaton Kohang arrived with many men and many women. They tickled the mother and her boy under the arms until they could not talk any more and were half dead, took what remained of the fish, and went away. The two fell asleep, but ants bit them in the feet and they woke up and saw that all the fish were gone. "Ha!" they said: "Aaton Kohang did this," and they ran away. NOTE.--Ulung Ela is the name for a boy whose father is dead, but whose mother is alive. 3. THE TWO ORPHANS (From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloë) Two small sisters, whose father and mother had died, went with the women to look for sago. The tree was cut and the sago, after having been beaten, was put into the large rattan bag. The younger child, who was sitting close to the bag, dropped asleep and fell into it. The other girl came to look for her sister but could not find her. She had disappeared, and when the women saw that the bag was already full they all went home. On returning next day they found plenty of sago inside of the tree, and had no difficulty in filling their bags. NOTE.--Ulung Ania is the name for the elder of the two girl orphans. Ulung Kabongon is the name for the younger. When her elder sister died the latter became obon, and her name became Obon Kabongon. 4. THE TREE OF WHICH ANTOH IS AFRAID (From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloë) Tabédjeh wanted to go to the place where a girl, Inyah, was living. On the way he met an antoh in the shape of a man with whom he began talking. Antoh said: "I am going to catch Inyah and eat her." Tabédjeh then drew his parang and cut off his head. But a new head grew, and many more, so that Tabédjeh became afraid and fled, with antoh running after him. He lost his parang, then, after a while, he stopped and took sticks to strike antoh with, but every time he struck the stick was wrested from him, and he had to take flight again. He ran up on a mountain and antoh, in close pursuit, caught up with him sitting on a fallen tree. Tabédjeh was tired and short of breath, but when antoh saw what kind of a tree he was sitting on he said: "You may remain there. I cannot eat you now because I am afraid of that tree." Tabédjeh took a piece of the wood of the tree, which is called klamonang, and he went to the house of Inyah to show her the tree of which antoh is afraid, and they had their wedding at once. 5. LEAVES THAT BAFFLED ANTOH (From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloë) Two brothers were walking in the utan, with sumpitans, when they met a pig which one of them speared. The quarry became furious and attacked the other one, but they helped each other and killed the pig, ate what they wanted, and continued their hunting. Next they met a rhino which they killed. As they began to take off the hide, cutting into his chest, the rhino became alive again, and the hide turned out to be the bark of a tree. The two ran home, but the rhino came after them, so they again had to flee, pursued by him, until they came across a small tree called mora, of which antoh is afraid. They gathered some of the leaves, and as soon as the rhino saw that he ran away. 6. PENGANUN, THE HUGE SERPENT (From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloë) The mother of Daring's wife ordered him to go out and hunt for animals to eat, but said they would have to be without bones. He searched for a month, and all that he got had bones. Finally he brought back a leech, which she ate. Then she said: "Go and look for penganun," the huge serpent with the golden horn. He met the monster and used all his poisoned darts before it succumbed. He left it there and went home. "Have you got the big serpent?" she asked him. "Yes!" he answered. She then went out to bring it in, but she cut off only a little of the flesh, which she brought back. It was cooked in bamboo, and the people in the house ate it, but before they had finished the meal they became crazy--fifteen of them. The affected ones, as well as the bamboo in which the cooking had been done, turned into stone, but the meat disappeared. Daring and his wife, who had not partaken of the meal, escaped. NOTE.--There exists in Borneo a huge python, in Malay called sahua, which is the basis for a superstitious belief in a monster serpent, called penganun, the forehead of which is provided with a straight horn of pure gold. The tale is possibly influenced by Malay ideas. The Penyahbongs have a name for gold, bo-an, but do not know how to utilise the metal. 7. HOW THE PENGANUN WAS CAUGHT ALIVE (From the Penyahbongs; kampong Tamaloë) Two young girls, not yet married, went to fish, each carrying the small oblong basket which the Penyahbong woman is wont to use when fishing, holding it in one hand and passing it through the water. A very young serpent, of the huge kind called penganun, entered a basket and the child caught it and placed it on the bark tray to take it home. Penganun ate all the fish on the tray, and the girls kept it in the house, catching fish for it, and it remained thus a long time. When it grew to be large it tried to eat the two girls, and they ran away to their mother, who was working on sago, while their father was sleeping near by. Penganun was pursuing them, and he caught the smaller one around the ankle, but the father killed the monster with his sumpitan and its spear point. With his parang he cut it in many pieces and his wife cooked the meat in bamboo, and they all ate it. NOTE.--Penganun, see preceding tale. The sumpitan (blow-pipe) has a spear point lashed to one end, and thus also may serve as a spear. 8. THE FATHERLESS BOY (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) A woman was going to the ladang in the morning, and she said to her young son, Amon Amang, whose father was dead: "When the sun comes over the tree there you must begin to husk paddi." She then went away to the ladang while the boy remained at home. He carried the paddi, as well as the oblong wooden mortar, up into a tree. There he began to work, and the mortar and the paddi and the boy all tumbled down because the branch broke. A man helped the half-dead boy to come to his senses again, throwing water on him, and when the mother returned she was very angry to see the mortar broken and the paddi strewed all about. "I told you to husk paddi in the house when the sun came over the tree," she said. "Better that you now go and hunt birds." The boy then decided to hunt. He climbed a tree and put up snares to catch birds. He caught a great many big hornbills, which he fastened alive to his loin cloth, and they began to fly, carrying the boy with them to a big tree, where they loosened themselves from him, left him in a cleft, and all flew away. The tree was very tall, but he climbed down a fig tree which grew beside it, descended to the ground, and went home. His mother was not pleased that he did not bring any birds, and he told her what had happened. "Why all this?" she said. "You fell from the tree! You should have killed the birds," she declared reproachfully. NOTE.--Amon Amang means the husband's child. (Amon = father; Amang = child.) During my stay of two weeks at Data Lahong fortunate circumstances enabled me to gather a considerable number of Saputan tales. Several prominent men from neighbouring kampongs visited me and were willing to tell them, while of equal importance was the fact that a Mohammedan Murung Dayak in my party spoke the language well and made a very satisfactory interpreter. On the other hand, I remained among the Penihings for many weeks, but the difficulty of finding either men who knew folklore or who could interpret well, prevented me from securing tales in that tribe. However, there is strong probability that much of the folklore told me by the Saputans originated with the Penihings, which is unquestionably the case with No. 16, "Laki Mae." The reason is not far to seek since the Saputans appear to have been governed formerly by the Penihings, though they also are said to have had many fights with them. According to information given me at Long Tjehan, Paron, the Raja Besar in the kampong, until recent years was also raja of the Saputans. 9. THE ANTOH WHO MARRIED A SAPUTAN (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) Dirang and his wife, Inyah, went out hunting with dogs, and got one pig. She then cut rattan to bind the pig for carrying it home, and the man in tying, broke the rattan. He became very angry and told his wife to look for another piece of rattan. She went away and met an antoh in the shape of a woman who asked her: "Where are you going?" "To look for rattan," was the answer, and "What is your name?" Inyah asked. "I am Inyah Otuntaga," the antoh answered. Inyah then said: "Take this rattan and give it to my husband." Inyah Otuntaga brought the rattan to the man, who tied the babi all around, and she took it up and carried it home. The man, meanwhile, followed her, thinking it was his wife. She went to this side and that side in the jungle, frequently straying. "What is the matter," he said, "don't you know the way?" "Never mind," she retorted, "I forgot." Arriving at the house she went up the wrong ladder, and the man was angry and said: "Don't you know the right ladder?" She answered: "I cannot get up the ladder." "Come up and walk in," he exclaimed, and began to think she was an antoh. She entered the room and slept there, lived with him ever after, and had two children. His former wife, much incensed, went to the house of her father, and after a while she had a child. Her little boy chanced to come to the house of his father, who asked his name. "I am the son of Inyah," he said. Then the father learned where his former wife was, and he went to fetch her, and afterward both wives and their children lived together. 10. LAKI SORA AND LAKI IYU (From the Saputans; kampong, Data Láong) Two men, Sora and Iyu, went into the utan to hunt with sumpitans. While Iyu made a hut for the two, Sora went to look for animals and came across a pig, which he killed. He brought the liver and the heart to the hut and gave them to Iyu to cook. When the cooking was finished Iyu advised him of it, and the two sat down to eat. It was already late in the afternoon and Iyu, whose duty it was to fetch the pig, waited until next day, when he went away to bring it in, but instead he ate it all by himself, and then returned to the hut and told Sora what he had done. It was now late in the evening and they both went to sleep. The following morning Sora went out again with his sumpitan, but chased all day without meeting an animal, so he took one root of a water-plant called keládi, as well as one fruit called pangin, and went home. The keládi was roasted, but the fruit it was not necessary to prepare. They then sat down to eat, but could not satisfy their hunger, and Iyu was angry and asked why he brought so little. "I did not bring more," Sora answered, "because it is probable the owner would have been angry if I had." Iyu said: "Tomorrow I shall bring plenty." Next morning Iyu came to the place where Sora had found the root and the fruit, and he ate all that remained there, but this belonged to an antoh, called Amenaran, and one of his children saw Iyu eat the root which he did not cook, and also saw him climb the tree and eat the fruit. He went and told his father, the antoh, who became angry, spoke to Iyu about it, and wanted to know who had given him permission. Iyu, who was up in the tree still gorging himself with fruit, said he was not afraid and he would fight it out that evening. Amenaran stood below and lightning poured forth from his mouth and thunder was heard. Iyu said: "I have no spear, nor parang, but I will kill that antoh." And the big pig he had eaten and all the roots and all the fruits that he had been feeding on, an immense quantity of faeces, he dropped on Amenaran's head, and it killed him. Iyu returned home and told Sora that he had put Amenaran to death. They then went out and killed many animals with the sumpitan and returned to the kampong. "Now that antoh is dead we can no more eat raw meat nor much fruit," said Iyu. Long ago it was the custom to eat the meat raw and much of it, as well as much fruit, and one man alone would eat one pig and a whole garden. Now people eat little. With the death of antoh the strong medicine of the food is gone, and the Saputans do not eat much. NOTE.--Laki is the Malay word for man or male, adopted by many of the tribes. The native word for woman, however, is always maintained. Keládi is a _caladium_, which furnishes the principal edible root in Borneo. 11. THE WONDERFUL TREE (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) Tanipoi bore a female infant, and when the child had been washed with water on the same day, the father gave her the name Aneitjing (cat). Years passed, and the girl had learned to bring water in the bamboo and to crush paddi. And the mother again became pregnant, and in due time had another little girl which was called Inu (a kind of fruit). Now, among the Saputans the custom long ago was that the woman who had a child should do no work during forty days. She must not bring water, nor husk paddi, nor cook. She remained in the house and took her bath in the river daily. She slept much and ate pork cooked in bamboo, and rice, if there was any, and she was free to eat anything else that she liked. Her husband, Tanuuloi, who during this time had to do all the work, became tired of it, and he said to his wife: "I cannot endure this any longer, I would rather die." After he had cooked the meal and they had eaten he said: "Take the two children and go with me to the river." All four of them went into a prahu which he paddled down stream until they came to a large rock in the middle of the river, where he stopped it. They all climbed on the rock, and the prahu he allowed to drift away. He then said to his wife: "You and I will drown ourselves." "I cannot," she said, "because I have a small child to suckle." He then tore the child from the mother's breast and placed it on the rock. The two children and the mother wept, and he caught hold of one of her hands, dragged her with him into the water, and they were both drowned. The two children remained on the rock all day. After sunset Deer (rusa) arrived. The older child called out; "Take me from here." And Deer came to the stone and placed Aneitjing on his back, and behind her Inu, and carried them ashore. Deer then made a clearing in the utan and built a hut for them. He then went to the ladang to look for food, but before starting he said to the children: "I am going to the ladang. Maybe I shall be killed by the dogs. In that case you must take my right arm and my right eye and bring them here." Deer went away and was attacked by dogs. The two children heard the barking, and when they arrived the dogs were gone and Deer was found dead. The children took the right arm and the right eye and went home, made a clearing and dug a hole, where the arm and the eye were placed, and they covered the hole with earth. They often went to look at that place. After twenty days they saw a sprout coming up, and in twenty years this had grown into a big tree which bore all sorts of fruit and other good things. From the tree fell durian, nangka, and many other kinds of delicious fruit, as well as clothing, spears, sumpitans, gongs, and wang (money). Rumour of this spread to the kampong, and two men arrived, Tuliparon, who was chief, and his brother Semoring. They had heard of the two young women, and they made a hut for themselves near by, but did not speak to the girls. They went to sleep and slept day after day, a whole year, and grass grew over them. Inu, the younger, who was the brighter of the two, said to Aneitjing: "Go and wake these men. They have been sleeping a long time. If they have wives and children in the kampong this will make much trouble for all of them." Aneitjing then asked Tipang Tingai for heavy rain. It came in the evening and flooded the land, waking the two men who found themselves lying in the water. They placed their belongings under the house of the women and went to the river to bathe. They then returned and changed their chavats under the house. The women wanted to call to them, but they were bashful, so they threw a little water down on them. The men looked up and saw that there were women above and they ascended the ladder with their effects. The girls gave them food, and Tuliparon said to Inu: "I am not going to make a long tale of it. If you agree I will make you my wife, and if you do not agree, I will still make you my wife." Inu answered: "Perhaps you have a wife and children in the kampong. If you have, I will not, but if you have not, then I will." "I am free," he said, "and have neither wife nor child." Reassured on this point she consented. His brother and Aneitjing agreed in the same way. The women said that they wanted always to live where they had the tree with so many good things. The men felt the same way, and they went to the kampong and induced all the people to come out there, and thus a new kampong was founded. NOTE.--Tipang Tingai means the highest God, the same as the Malay Tuan Allah. It is also used by the Penyahbongs. 12. MOHAKTAHAKAM WHO SLEW AN ANTOH (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) Once upon a time three brothers, Mohaktahakam, Batoni, and Bluhangoni, started in the morning from the kampong and walked to another kampong where Pahit, an antoh, had a fish-trap. They were intent on stealing the fish, and as they went along they considered among themselves how they could take it. Pahit was very strong, but Mohaktahakam said: "Never mind, I am going to fight it out with him." Arriving there they let the water out of the trap, and with parang and spear they killed lots of fish of many kinds, filling their rattan bags with them. Taking another route they hurried homeward. Their burdens were heavy, so they could not reach the kampong, but made a rough shelter in the usual way on piles, the floor being two or three feet above the ground. They cut saplings and quickly made a framework, called tehi, on which the fish were placed. Underneath they made a big fire which smoked and cured them. In the morning they had boiled rice and fish to eat, and then went out to hunt for animals with sumpitan. The fish meanwhile remained on the tehi, the fire being kept alive underneath. Pahit found his trap dry and no fish there. "Why have people been bold enough to take the fish?" he said to himself. "They don't know I am strong and brave"; and, very angry, he followed their tracks. He had gone scarcely half-way when he smelled the fish, which was very fat. When he arrived at the camp he found the fish over the fire, but nobody there. He gathered some leaves together behind the camp and sat down upon them to wait the arrival of the men. In the afternoon Batoni and Bluhangoni returned to camp carrying much pig and deer. He immediately caught hold of both of them, lifted them up and brought them down with force upon the rough floor of the hut, and both died. Pahit saw that places had been made for three men to sleep, and knowing that there must be another man coming he decided to wait. The two bodies he placed under the hut, on the ground. After a while Mohaktahakam came, carrying pig, deer, rhino, wild ox, and bear, and threw it all down near the drying fish, to cook it later. He was tired, having walked all day, and went up into the hut to smoke tobacco. Pahit saw this and went after him. He caught hold of the man to throw him down, but could not lift him. Mohaktahakam, very angry, caught Pahit by the arms, lifted him up, threw him against the floor and killed him. "Pahit spoke of being strong and brave, but I am stronger," he said. Mohaktahakam then made his brothers come to life again, and they cleaned all the animals they had caught and placed the meat on a tehi to dry and smoke. Then they cooked meat in bamboo and ate, afterward going to sleep. During the night one of them at times mended the fire, which was kept burning. In the morning, after eating, they went home to the kampong, carrying bags full of meat and fish. NOTE.--Tehi, a framework for drying fish or meat, is called in Malay, salai. 13. THE MAGIC BABI BONE (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) Dirang left the kampong to hunt for heads, with three prahus and many men, armed with parangs, shields, sumpitans, and spears, and they also carried some rice for provisions. After a while the people who remained behind became very hungry, and one day Inyah, the wife of Dirang, went out to look for bamboo shoots to eat. She met a small babi (pig), caught it, and brought it home. In the kampong she asked the men to help her make a shed for it. The babi, which was male, grew bigger and bigger. It was very strong, and when dogs, cats, or hens came near the shed it would kill and eat them. It was fierce and angry because it had not enough to eat, and finally it turned the shed over and killed and ate all the people. No one escaped but Inyah, who fled to another kampong, where she asked for help and the people permitted her to remain there. Shortly afterward the babi arrived. All the people heard the noise it made as it came through the utan, breaking the jungle down. They said to Inyah: "You would better run away from here. We are afraid he may eat us." Inyah went away, trying to reach another kampong. She got there and asked for help against the man-eating babi. Hardly had she received permission to remain before a great noise was heard from the babi coming along. The people, frightened, asked her to pass on, and she ran to another kampong. There was a woman kapala in that kampong who lived in a house that hung in the air. Inyah climbed the ladder, which was drawn up after her. The babi came and saw Inyah above, but could not reach her, and waited there many days. Dirang, who was on his way back from the headhunting expedition, came down the river, and he said to one of his companions: "It is well to stop here and make food." This chanced to be close to the place where Inyah was. They went ashore to make camp. Some of them went out to search for wood and met the babi, who attacked them, and they fled to their prahus. When Dirang, who was an antoh, saw his men on the run, he became very angry, went after the babi, and cut off its head. His men cut up the body and cooked the meat in bamboo, near the river, sitting on a long, flat rock. They ate much, and Dirang said that he now wanted to paddle down to the kampong, so they all started. Inyah had seen Dirang, and she said to the woman kapala: "Look! There is my husband. No other man would have been brave enough to kill the babi." The woman kapala said: "I should like to have such a husband if I wanted one, but I am afraid of a husband." Inyah said: "I want to go down." And she walked over to the place where the men had been sitting on the rock, went upon it, and accidentally stepped on a bone left from the meal, which hit her on the inside of the right ankle. The bone was from the right hind leg of the babi, and was sharp, so it drew a little blood from the ankle. She felt pain and went back to the house. Some time later the leg began to swell, and as time passed it grew bigger and bigger. The woman kapala said: "There must be a child inside." "If that is the case," said Inyah, "then better to throw it away." "No, don't do that. Wait until the child is born and I will take care of it," said the kapala. When her time had come the child arrived through the wound made by the babi bone, and the kapala washed the child and took care of it. When two months old the child was given the name Obongbadjang. When he was fifteen years old he was as strong as Dirang. Dirang had brought many heads to the kampong, but finding all the people dead and houses fallen down, he became angry and killed the slaves he had brought back. He then went out on another hunt for heads. When the prahus passed the kampong where Inyah was, all the people in the house saw them, and Obongbadjang, her young son, who had heard much of Dirang, went down to see him. "Where are you going?" asked Dirang. "I want to go with you," answered the boy. Dirang liked him, and let him into the prahu. They travelled far and wide, and finally came to the kampong which they wanted to attack. Dirang went in from one end of the house and Obongbadjang from the other, and they cut the heads from all the people, men, women, and children, and met in the middle of the house. Dirang was wondering who this young man was who was strong like himself and not afraid. "My name is Obongbadjang," he said, "the son of Dirang and Inyah." He then ran away, although Dirang tried to keep him back, and he ran until he arrived where his mother was. On seeing his son run away Dirang felt "sick in his throat," then collected all the heads, comprising the population of the whole kampong, put them in the prahus, and returned to look for his son and wife. He stopped at the same place where he had killed the big babi and made a hut. He then went to look for Obongbadjang and Inyah. When he was walking under the house, which was high up in the air, Inyah threw a little water down on him. He turned his head up and saw there was a house, but there was no ladder and he could not get up. They put out the ladder and he went up and met Inyah again, who, until then, he did not know was alive. He also met his son, and after remaining a little while he took them away to rebuild their kampong. NOTE.--"Sick in his throat," Saputan mode of speech for deep emotional depression, is similar to our "feeling a choking in the throat." The Malays say: "Sick in his liver." For the sake of convenience the Malay name babi for a pig, perfectly known to the Dayaks, has been maintained in this tale. 14. WHEN HUSBAND AND WIFE ARE ANTOHS (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) There were many young men who wanted to marry Inu Songbakim, a young girl, but she liked only one man, Monjang Dahonghavon, and, having obtained the consent of her father and mother, he shared her mat. One day he went out to work, making planks with his axe, while she remained at home cooking. When she had prepared the food she took it to him, and when she arrived at the place where he was working he looked at her as he was cutting with the axe and hurt himself. He died, and his father came and took the corpse to the house. Being an antoh he restored the life of his son, who became very angry with his wife for being the cause of his death. He wanted to kill her, but as she was very strong he could not do it, and instead, with his parang, killed her father and mother. His wife, in turn, became filled with wrath, and with a parang killed his father and mother. The young man then left her to look for another wife, but could not find any that was to his liking, strong and good-looking, so after a while he decided to return to the wife he already had. "I like you much," she said, "but if you want to have me again you must make my father and mother alive again." "I will do that," he answered, "if you first will restore to life my father and mother." They were both antohs, so there was a general return to life, and the people from the two kampongs to which the families belonged came together and made the kampongs into one. 15. THE WOMAN, THE BIRD, AND THE OTTER (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) Many young men courted Ohing Blibiching, but she was difficult to please. Finally, she favoured Anyang Mokathimman because he was strong, skilful in catching animals, brave in head-hunting. She said: "Probably you have a wife." "No, I am alone," he said, and her father and mother having given consent, they then lived together. After a while he said: "I want to go away and hunt for heads." She said: "Go, but take many men with you. If you should be sick, difficulties would be great." She then made rice ready in a basket, calculating that on a long journey they would depend more on the sago found in the utan. They would also kill animals for food, therefore, in addition to their parangs, the men took sumpitans along. "If we have any mishaps," he said, "I shall be away two months. If not, I shall be back in a month." She remained in the kampong guarded by her father, mother, and other people, and after a while many young men began to pay her attention, telling her: "He has been away a long time. Maybe he will not return." One day at noon when she was filling her bamboo receptacles in the river as usual, taking a bath at the same time, she saw a fish sleeping, and caught it. She then lifted on her back the big-meshed rattan bag which held the bamboo receptacles, all full of water, and went home, carrying the fish in her hand. Before cooking it she went to husk paddi. The bird Teong, who had heard she was beautiful, saw her and he liked her much. He flew to a tree from which he could get a good look at her where she was husking the paddi. In admiration he jumped from branch to branch until a dead one broke which fell down and wounded young Otter in the river under the tree. The mother of Otter became angry with Bird Teong for the injury. "I have been in this tree quite a while," Bird answered, "because I like to look at that woman. I did not know Otter was underneath. If you want damages, ask that woman there." "Why should I pay Otter?" the woman said. "I did not call Bird Teong. I have just finished pounding and am going to cook fish. This case we will settle tomorrow. I am hungry now." She went away and so did Bird and Otter. She cooked rice in one bamboo and the fish in another. Then she ate, after which she went to the river as the sun was setting, to take her bath. She soon went to sleep. Early the next morning she made her usual tour to the river to bring water and take her bath, and when she had eaten, Bird and Otter arrived. Otter wanted damages from Bird, and Bird insisted that the woman should pay. She repeated that she knew nothing of Bird and had not asked him to come. As they were arguing, to her great relief her husband arrived. He brought many prisoners and many heads. "It is well you have come," she said. "Bird and Otter have made a case against me. I was husking paddi, and Bird liked to look at me. I did not know he was there in the tree for a long time. A branch fell down and wounded Otter's child, making her very angry, and she asks damages from me." "This case is difficult," the husband answered. "I must think it over." After a while he said: "The best thing to do is to give food to both." Bird was given fruit to eat and Otter fish, and they went home satisfied. All the people of the kampong gathered and rejoiced at the successful head-hunting. They killed pigs and hens, and for seven nights they ate and danced. NOTE.--When an attack on men is decided upon the sumpitan is hidden and left behind after the spear-head has been detached from it and tied to a long stick. This improvised spear is the principal weapon on head-hunting raids, as well as on the chase after big game. The bird, called by the Saputans teong, is common, of medium size, black with yellow beak, and yellow around the eyes, also a little red on the head. It learns easily to talk, and is also common in Java. 16. LAKI MAE (From the Saputans; kampong Data Láong) The wife of Laki Mae was pregnant and wanted to eat meat, so she asked her husband to go out hunting. He brought in a porcupine, wild hens, kidyang, pig, and deer, and he placed all the meat on the tehi, to smoke it over fire, that it should keep. But the right hind leg of the porcupine was hung up by itself unsmoked, to be eaten next day. They had their evening meal and then went to sleep. In the night she bore an infant son, and, therefore, next morning another woman came to do the cooking. She took the hind leg and before proceeding to cook it, washed it. It slipped through a hole in the floor to the ground underneath. Looking through the hole she saw a small male child instead of the leg, and she told Mae of this. "Go and take this child up and bring it here. It is good luck," he said. "It is my child too." It was brought up to the room and washed and laid to the wife's breast, but the child would not suckle. Mae said: "It is best to give him a name now. Perhaps he will suckle then." He then asked the child if it wanted to be called Nonjang Dahonghavon, and the child did not. Neither did it want Anyang Mokathimman, nor Samoling, nor Samolang. It struck him that perhaps he might like to be called Sapit (leg) Tehotong which means "Porcupine Leg," and the child began to suckle at once. The child of the woman was given a name two months later, Lakin Kudyáng. For two years the mother suckled the two, and then they were old enough to play behind the houses of the kampong. They saw many birds about, and they asked their father to give each of them a sumpitan. When they went out hunting the human boy got one bird, but the other boy got two. Next time the woman's son killed a plandok (mouse-deer), but the other one secured a pig. Their father was angry over this and said to "Porcupine Leg": "Go and kill the two old bears and bring the young ones here." He had recently seen two bears, with one cub each, under the roots of a tree in the neighbourhood. The boy went, and the bears attacked him and tried to bite him, but with his parang he killed both of them, and brought the cubs along to the kampong, bringing besides the two dead bears. The father again sent him out, this time to a cave where he knew there were a pair of tiger-cats and one cub. "Go and kill the pair and bring the cub here," he said. Again the boy was successful. Laki Mae did not like this and was angry. In the evening "Porcupine Leg" said to his brother: "I have a long time understood that father is angry with me. Tomorrow morning I am going away. I am not eating, and I will look for a place to die." His brother began to weep, and said he would go with him. Next morning they told their father they were going to hunt for animals and birds. But when they did not return in the evening, nor later, the mother said: "I think they will not come back." Half a month later many men attacked the kampong. Laki Mae fought much and was tired. "If the boys had remained this would not have happened," the people said angrily to him. In the meantime the human son began to long to return, and he persuaded "Porcupine Leg" to accompany him. They both came back and helped to fight the enemy, who lost many dead and retired. NOTE.--This story is also found with the Penihings, from whom undoubtedly it is derived. _Laki_, see No. 10. _Tehi_, see No. 12. 17. SEMANG, THE BAD BOY (From the Long-Glats; kampong Long Tujo) A woman called Daietan had one child, Semang, who was a bad boy. He was lazy, slept day and night, and did not want to make ladang nor plant any banana nor papaya trees. His mother angrily said to him: "Why don't you exert yourself to get food?" Semang said: "Well, I will go tomorrow to search for something to eat." At sunrise next morning he went away in a prahu, paddling up-stream. He reached a kampong, and the name of the raja here was Anjangmaran. He could find no food, so he went on to the next kampong, and to another, but had no success, so he continued his journey, and then arrived at the fourth kampong. There were no people here. It was a large kampong with many houses, and grass was growing everywhere. He went up into a room and there he found all sorts of goods; salt, gongs, many tempaians (large Chinese urns) in which paddi was stored, and tobacco. Semang said to himself, "I am rich. Here is all that I need." And he lay down to sleep. In the night Deer (rusa) arrived and called out: "Is there any one here?" He ascended the ladder and lay down near the cooking place. Semang heard him, but was afraid to move, and slept no more. In the night he heard Deer talk in his sleep: "Tomorrow morning I am going to look for a small bottle with telang kliman. It is underneath the pole in front of the house." Semang said: "Who is talking there?" Deer waked up and became frightened, ran down the ladder, and got into Semang's prahu, where he went to sleep. Before dawn Semang arose and walked down toward the prahu. On his way he saw an ironwood pole in front of the room, went up to it, and began to dig under it. He found a small bottle which he opened, and he put his first finger into it. He was astonished to see that his finger had become white, and he said: "This must be good to put on the body." He poured some into his hollowed hand and applied it all over his body and hair. His body became white and his clothes silken. Pleased with this, Semang ascended the ladder, gathered together all the goods that he had found in the room, and began taking them to the prahu. There he found Deer asleep, and killed him with his spear. After bringing all the goods from the house to the prahu, Semang started down-stream. Owing to the magic liquid his prahu had become very large, and carried much, much goods, as well as the dead deer. He travelled straight for the kampong, where he caught sight of his mother. "O, mother!" he cried, and went up the ladder carrying the bottle. He washed his mother with the liquid. She became young and beautiful, and it also gave her many beautiful garments. By the same aid Semang made the room handsome. Everything became changed instantly. The ceiling was of ironwood, and the planks of the floor were of a wood called lampong, which resembles cedar. Large numbers of brass vessels were there, and many gongs were brought from the prahu, besides a great quantity of various goods. The mother said: "This is well, Semang." She felt that she no longer had cause to be troubled; that whatever she and Semang might need would come without effort on their part. NOTE.--According to Long-Glat belief, the deer, called in Malay rusa, possesses a magic liquid which enables it to restore the dead to life. The name of the liquid is telang kliman (telang = liquid; kliman = to make alive). 18. ADVENTURES IN PURSUIT OF MAGIC (From the Long-Glats, kampong Long Tujo) Once there lived a woman, Boamaring, who was Raja Besar in a large kampong where people did not know how to work. They could not make ladangs nor prahus. Everything they needed came to them of its own accord, and the rajas of the neighbouring kampongs were afraid of her. This is the way it came about. She heard a rumour of a musical instrument which could play by itself, and which had the power of bringing all necessary food. She said to her husband, whose name was Batangnorang, "Go to the limit of the sky and bring the instrument that plays by itself." Putting on tiger skin, and carrying his parang and sumpitan, Batangnorang went into a small prahu which was able to fly, and it flew one month, to the end of the sky. He landed in a durian tree, near a small house covered with the tail feathers of the hornbill. Its walls were of tiger skins, the ridgepole, as well as the poles of the framework, were made of brass, and a carving of the naga stood out from each gable. He heard music from inside the house, and saw a woman dancing alone to the tune of the instrument that played by itself. She was the antoh of the end of the sky, and he knew that she ate people, so he was afraid to come down, for many men since long ago had arrived there and had been eaten. Many corpses of men could be seen lying on the ground. From his bamboo cask he took a small arrow, placed it in his sumpitan, and then blew it out toward the dancing woman. The arrow hit the woman in the small of the back, and she fell mortally wounded. Then he flew down to the house, finished killing her with his spear, and cut her head off with his parang. He then went up to her room and took the musical instrument, her beautiful clothing, and beads, and placed all, together with the head, in his prahu. He also took many fine rattan mats, burned the house, and flew away in the sky. After a month he arrived in his kampong and returned to his wife. "Here is the musical instrument you wanted," he said. "Good!" she answered, "what else did you hunt for?" He placed it on the floor and asked it to play by striking it one time. Sugar, boiled rice, durian, cocoanuts began to fall down, also tobacco, salt, clothing--all the good things that they could wish for. The Raja Besar was greatly pleased and was all smiles, and the people of her kampong no longer found it necessary to work. Everything that they needed came when they wished for it, and all enjoyed this state of things. When a month had passed she learned of a woman's hair ornament which was to be found in the river far away. It was of pure gold, and when one hung it up and struck it all sorts of food would drop from it. "Go and get that," she told her husband. "It is in a cave underneath the waters of the river." Batangnorang made himself ready. He put on tiger skin, placed on his head a rattan cap with many tail feathers of the hornbill fastened to it, took his parang, his shield adorned with human hair, and his sumpitan. But he did not carry mats for bedding, nor food. He had only to wish for these things and they came. He then said farewell to his wife in a way that the Long-Glats use when departing on a long journey. She sat on the floor, and bending down he touched the tip of his nose to the tip of hers, each at the same time inhaling the breath as if smelling. Batangnorang departed, stopping on the river bank, where he stood for a time looking toward the East, and calling upon the antoh Allatala. Then he went into the water, dived, and searched for ten days until he found the cave, inside of which there was a house. This was the home of the crocodile antoh, and was surrounded by men, some of them alive, some half dead, and many dead. Crocodile was asleep in his room, and all was silent. Batangnorang went up on the gallery and sat down. After waiting a long time Crocodile awoke. He smelt man, went to the door which he opened a little, enough to ascertain what this was, and he saw Batangnorang. Then he passed through it and said to the stranger: "How did you come here? What is your name?" "I come from the earth above. I am Batangnorang." He was afraid antoh would eat him, and Crocodile's sister being his mother he added timidly: "I have a mother. I do not know of a father," he continued. "My mother, your sister, told me to go and meet my father down in the water." "What necessity was there for my child to come here?" asked Crocodile. "I am looking for a woman's hair ornament of gold," he answered. Crocodile said: "If you are my child then I will cook rice for you." They both went into the room, which was fine, made of stone; the roof was of gold, and there were many gongs and much goods there. Crocodile cooked rice, but as he wanted to try the stranger he took one man from those outside, cut him into many pieces, and made a stew. He then told him to eat, and being afraid to do otherwise, Batangnorang ate it. Crocodile then said: "Truly you are my child. Another man would not have eaten this stew." After the meal Crocodile put the remainder of the food away, with a tiny key opened a small steel trunk, took out the gold ornament, and gave it to Batangnorang. "Give this to your mother, Crocodile. When she wants to use it, hang it up and place a beautiful mat underneath. Then strike it one time with the first finger. Whatever you ask for must come." Batangnorang took the hair ornament and placed it in the pocket of his shirt, put on his parang, and took his spear and shield. He then said farewell, and as he walked away he suddenly turned and thrust his spear into Crocodile's breast and killed him. Batangnorang carried away all that he desired, diamonds as large as hens' eggs, and much gold. He then went home, ascended to the room where his wife sat, and laid his weapons away. He seated himself near his wife and produced the ornament. "I got this," and handed it to her. "How do you use it?" she asked. He hung it up by a string and placed a fine rattan mat underneath. All the people in the kampong gathered to see this, women, men, and children. He then struck it with his first finger, when lo! and behold! there fell all around pork, boiled rice, vegetable stew, sugar-cane, papaya, durian, bananas, pineapples, and white onions. All present ate as long as they were able, and food continued to fall. After that people slept at night and arose in the morning to eat and do no work, because all that they wished for was produced immediately. NOTE.-The flying prahu, mentioned in this legend, plays an important part in the religious exercises of the Ot-Danum, Katingan, and Kahayan. See Chapter XXXI. The head ornament of women is different in this tribe from those observed elsewhere in Borneo. It may be seen in the back view of the three Long-Giat women in Chapter XXVI. The tale shows Malay influence by such expressions as gold, diamonds, brass, shirt pocket, bottle. Allatala, the rendering of the Mahommedan Tuan Allah, is accepted as an antoh also by certain Dayak tribes in Southern Borneo. Steel trunks, as sold by Chinese or Malays, are much in favour with the Dayaks, and were observed wherever I travelled. It is one of the first articles that those who have taken part in an expedition to New Guinea will buy to take home. White onions are usually to be procured on travels among the Dayaks, and of course are not originally indigenous, no more than are sugarcane and pineapples (both scarce, especially the latter), cassava and red peppers. The non-Dayak expressions do not necessarily imply that the legend is Malay. The one circumstance that might lend colour to this belief is that in this legend, as well as in the preceding (Semang), both of which were told me by the same man, the beauty of idle life is glorified. This seems to be more a Malay than a Dayak quality. I was not long enough among the Long-Glats to be able to decide on this point. Circumstances favour a non-Malay origin. My informant, the kapala of Long Tujo, who showed Malay influence (see Chapter XXVI), may have embellished his narrative by his acquired knowledge of things foreign. He was in reality a thorough Dayak, and he had scruples about telling me these stories. He hesitated, especially in regard to the one related, because it might injure him much to let me know that one. The Long-Glat leave-taking, described, is called _ngebaw_ (to smell) _laung_ (nose). 19. THE ORANG-UTAN AND THE DAYAK (From the Ot-Danums; kampong Gunong Porok, Upper Kahayan River) There was a man who, in grief and sorrow over the death of his wife, his children, and others, left his house and went far into the utan. Feeling tired he lay down to rest under a great lanan tree. While he slept a female orang-utan, which had its nest in the same tree and had been away hunting for food, came home, lifted the man in her arms, and carried him to her nest high up in the branches. When he awoke it seemed impossible for him to climb down, so he remained there. Each day she brought him fruit of various kinds, also occasionally boiled rice, stolen from the houses of the ladangs. After a few days she began to take liberties with him. At first the man declined her advances and she became angry, showing her teeth and nails. Finally she bit him in the shoulder, and then he surrendered. The man remained in the tree over a year. Although anxious to escape he feared the revenge of the orang-utan too much to make the attempt. In due time a male child was born who was human, but covered with long hair. One day when she was absent seeking food he saw a sailing ship approach the coast and put out a boat for hauling water from the river near by. Hastily stringing his garments together he began the descent, but the rope was not long enough; however, by letting himself drop part of the distance he succeeded in getting down, and went away in the boat. Not finding him at home the orang-utan tried to swim to the ship, but the distance was too great. She then ascended the tree, and, in full view of the ship as it sailed away, she lifted the child and tore it in twain. NOTE.--The Dayaks insist that this animal can swim, and my informant, a trustworthy Kahayan, said he had seen it. The orang-utan spends most of his time in the trees, seldom descending to the ground. That the one in this case is assumed to follow the daily habit of the Dayak is in accordance with the spirit of folk-lore. 20. BRANAK, THE ANTOH (From the Ot-Danums, of the Upper Kahayan River) A man called Mai Boang (father of Boang) had a very good-looking son who owned a fine big male dog, and when the child grew to be old enough he used the animal for hunting. One day when the dog was following the tracks of a deer he came into a long, long cave and Boang followed. To pass through the cave consumed thrice the time required to cook rice. Emerging on the other side the dog and the boy arrived at a house where there was a handsome woman. As darkness was falling he asked if he might stay over night, and she gave permission, the dog remaining under the house. Each was attracted by the other, so they passed the night together. Boang remained there, and in time she bore him a son. She possessed a female dog, and the two dogs had two male and two female pups. Two or three years later Boang wanted to see his father and mother. She said: "I will go with you for a short time." With wife and child he went away, but he soon had to return because she did not like his country, of which the language and everything else was different. They came back, lived long, and had many children. Her name was Kamkamiak and she had long, long nails. When he was disinclined to comply with her wishes she forced him by using her nails on a tender spot. She shows herself to-day as alang, the black hawk. The descendants of this pair are also Kamkamiak, evil antohs of women at childbirth. The offspring of the dogs is another kind of antoh, called Penyakit (sickness). One of these appears in the form of a large goat which is seen only occasionally. It bites in the neck and the throat, the wounds are invisible, and the victim must die on the second or third day. When the descendants of Mai Boang are ill they become better when relating the story of Boang. NOTE.--The handsome woman who figures in this story is an evil antoh which afflicts women at childbirth and by the Ot-Danums and others is called Kamkamiak, the one with the long nails. She is also commonly known by the name Branak. She causes the woman to lose much blood and to have pain in the uterus, the nails of the antoh playing an important part in these conditions. Men who work in the utan gathering rubber, rattan, etc., are liable to get a disorder under the scrotum that looks like scratches, and which ulcerate and may be troublesome for several months or a year. These are ascribed to the long nails of the antoh, Branak, and sacrifices of sugar and eggs are offered. Pontianak, the well-known town in the Western Division of Dutch Borneo, is the name of another good-looking female antoh, who causes injury to women at childbirth. Some evil antohs, by Kahayans and others called kuyang, also select maternity victims. They are believed to fly through the air at night, appearing like fireflies, and enter the woman through head, neck, or stomach, doing much harm. They are supposed to suck blood, and when a woman dies at childbirth from bleeding, the belief is that it was caused by these evil spirits that in the daytime appear as ordinary human beings. They are also able to suck blood from men and kill them. The goat is at times an antoh, as is also the case with the water-buffalo, which may appear in dreams and cause illness. The period of time required for "cooking rice" mentioned in the tale is called one pemasak, equal to about half an hour. 21. THE PÁTIN FISH (From the Katingans; kampong Talinka) A Dayak went fishing and caught a pátin which he took home in his prahu. He left the fish there and advised his wife, who went to fetch it. Upon approach she heard the crying of an infant, the fish having changed into a child, and she took it up, brought it home, gave it to eat and drink, and clothed it. The little one proved to be a girl who grew to womanhood, married, and had children. She said to her husband: "As long as we are married you must never eat pátin." After a time the husband saw another man catch a pátin, and feeling an irresistible desire to eat the fat, delicious-looking fish, he was presented with a portion which he took to his house and cooked. Seeing this, his wife for the second time said: "Why do you eat pátin? You do not like me." "I must have this," he said, and he ate, and also gave it to his children to eat. "I am not human," she said, "I am pátin, and now I will return to the water. But mind this: If you or your descendants ever eat pátin you will be ill." And she went down to the river and became fish again. Since that time her descendants do not eat pátin, even when they accept Islam. Some have dared to break the rule, and they have become ill with fever and diarrhoea, accompanied by eruptions, abscesses, and open sores on the arms and legs. The remedy is to burn the bones of the fish and waft the smoke over the patient. For internal use the bones pulverised and mixed with water are taken. NOTE.--This fish, by the Dutch called meerval, is said to be about a metre long, and though eaten with impunity by some, its flesh is evidently poisonous, and, according to reports, if taken will cause the flesh to fall from the bones. In accordance with a custom apparently universal among Dayaks, of leaving quarry for the women to bring home, the patin when caught is usually left at the landing float to be disposed of by the wife of the fisherman. The Kiai Laman, a Kahayan, and a Mohammedan, who related the story, does not eat this fish, nor water turtle. Mr. B. Brouers, of Bandjermasin, whose mother was a Dayak noble from the Lower Kahayan, was instructed by her never to eat turtle. He, being a Dutchman, disregards this and nothing has ever happened, as he said, but he added that an acquaintance who did likewise lost the skin of his finger-tips. 22. THE STORY OF THE BIRD PUNAI (From the Kahayans of Kuala Kapuas) Long, long ago a man was catching punai with sticks to which glue had been applied. One was caught under the wing and fell to the ground. As he went to take it up it flew away a short distance. This happened several times, but at last he seized it, when suddenly it changed to a woman. He brought her to his house and said he wanted to make her his wife. "You may," she replied, "but you must never eat punai." This story happened in ancient times when many antohs were able to change into human beings. The woman bore him many children. One day, when in a friend's house, people were eating punai, and he also ate some of it. His wife learned this and said to him: "I hear that you have eaten punai. You don't like me. I shall become a bird again." Since then her descendants have never eaten this bird, because they know that their great, great, great grandmother was a punai. NOTE.--The punai is a light-green pigeon. Mata Punai (the eye of punai) is one of the most common decorative designs of many Dayak tribes. 23. RETRIBUTION In the beginning there were mountain-tops and sea between them. Gradually the sea subsided and the land appeared. A man and a woman living on such a mountain-top had a son. One day a typhoon lifted him in the air and carried him off to Java, where he arrived in the house of a rich Javanese. This was long before the Hindu kingdom of Modjopahit. In this house he remained many years, and showed much intelligence and industry in his work, which was to cut wood, fish, look after the poultry, and clean the rooms. It was not necessary to give him orders, for he understood everything at a glance. By and by he became a trader, assisting his patron. Finally he married the rich man's only daughter, and after living happily a long time he remembered his parents, whom he had left in Borneo, desired to visit them, and asked his wife to accompany him. They went in two ships, and, after sailing a month or more, came to a mountain, for there was no river then. When the ships arrived, prahus came out to ask their errand. "I am looking for my father and mother whom I left long ago," said the owner. They told him that his father was dead, but that his mother still lived, though very old. The people went and told her that her son had come to see her. She was very poor, for children there were none, and her husband was dead. Wearing old garments, and in a dilapidated prahu, she went out to the ships, where she made known that she wanted to see her anak (child). The sailors informed the captain that his mother was there, and he went to meet her, and behold! an old woman with white hair and soiled, torn clothing. "No!" he said, "she cannot be my mother, who was beautiful and strong." "I am truly your mother," she replied, but he refused to recognise her, and he took a pole (by which the prahus are poled) and drove her off. She wept and said: "As I am your mother, and have borne you, I wish that your wife, your ships, and all your men may change into stone." The sky became dark, and thunder, lightning, and storm prevailed. The ships, the men, and the implements, everything, changed into stone, which today may be seen in these caves. NOTE.--In the neighbourhood of Kandangan, a small town northward from Bandjermasin, are two mountains, one called gunong batu laki: the mountain of the stone man, the other gunong batu bini: the mountain of the stone wife. They contain large caves with stalactite formations which resemble human beings, ships, chairs, etc. The natives here visualise a drama enacted in the long gone-by, as related. The Ex-Sultan of Pasir, a Malay then interned by the government in Bandjermasin, who was present when this story was told to me by a Mohammedan Kahayan, maintained that it is Dayak and said that it is also known in Pasir (on the east coast). Although the fact that the scene is laid in a region at present strongly Malay does not necessarily give a clew to the origin of the tale, still its contents are not such as to favour a Dayak source. CONCLUSION In closing this account of my investigations in Borneo it seems appropriate to comment briefly regarding the capabilities and future prospects of the tribes in Dutch Borneo comprised under the popular term Dayaks. We have seen that these natives are still inclined to the revolting habit of taking heads. In their dastardly attacks to accomplish this purpose, though moved by religious fanaticism, they show little courage. On the other hand they exhibit traits of character of which a civilised community might well be proud. They are honest, trustworthy, and hospitable. In their kampongs a lonely stranger is safe from molestation and a white man travelling with them is far safer than with the Malays. They are able woodcraftsmen, and strikingly artistic, even their firewood being arranged in orderly fashion, pleasing to the eye. Should criticism arise regarding the unrestricted relations permitted in these tribes before marriage, owing to the fact that primitive conditions survive which are disapproved in civilised society, to their credit it must be admitted that conjugal relations are all that could be desired. A Dayak does not strike his wife, as Malays may do, and in business matters he takes her advice. During my travels I never heard of but one instance of infidelity. If such cases occur they are punished in some tribes with extreme severity. In certain ways the Dayaks show more aptitude than either Malays or Javanese. To illustrate--the young men of the latter races whom I employed as "boys" on various occasions, and the Javanese soldiers who accompanied me, were satisfactory on the whole, but when several work together, each one is afraid he will do more than his share. Neither of them can tie knots that are at once firm and readily undone, nor are they able to drive a nail properly, put in screws, or rope a box, although no doubt in time they could learn; but the Dayaks are uniformly handy at such work. A well-known characteristic of the "inlander," which he possesses in common with some classes in other races, is that if he receives his due, no more and no less, he accepts the payment without question, but if a gratuity is added he will invariably ask for more. The Dayaks are much easier to deal with in that regard and more businesslike. Needless to state neither Javanese nor Malays are stupid. They learn quickly to do efficient routine work in office or shop, but when something new demands attention they are at a loss and appear awkward. Their intelligence, especially as regards the Javanese, is sometimes beyond the ordinary. Dr. J.C. Koningsberger, who at the time was director of the Botanic Garden at Buitenzorg, Java, told me that an "inlander" once applied to him for a position. He was able to read a little, but the doctor said: "I cannot employ you because you cannot write." A week later he returned and demonstrated that he had mastered the obstacle, having been taught by a friend in the evenings by lamplight. When clever, the Javanese are very clever. The different tribes of Dayaks known to me are also quick of perception, intelligent, and, though varying in mental ability, some of them, as the Kahayans and the Duhoi, undoubtedly are capable of considerable attainment if given the opportunity. The Dutch missionary in Kasungan told me of a sixteen-year-old youth, a Duhoi, who was very ambitious to learn to read. Although he did not know the letters to start with, the missionary assured me that in two hours he was able to read short sentences. It was always a pleasure to meet the unsophisticated Dayaks, and on leaving them I invariably felt a desire to return some day. What the future has in store for them is not difficult to predict, as the type is less persistent than the other with which it has to compete in this great island domain. Ultimately these natives, who on the whole are attractive, will be absorbed by the Malays; the latter, being naturally of roving disposition, travel much among the Dayaks, marry their women, and acquire their lands. The Malay trader takes his prahus incredibly far up the rivers. No place is so remote that beads, mirrors, cotton cloth, bright bandannas, sarongs for women, "made in Germany," etc., do not reach the aborigines, often giving them a Malay exterior, however primitive they may be in reality. The trader often remains away a year, marries a woman whom he brings back, and the children become Malays. In its assumed superiority the encroaching race is not unlike the common run of Mexicans who insidiously use the confiding Indians to advance their own interests. As Mohammedans, the aggressors feel contempt for the pork-eating natives, many of whom gradually give up this habit to attain what they consider a higher social status, at the same time adopting a new way of living, and eventually disappear. In this manner a change is slowly but surely being wrought in the Dayaks, who regard the Malays as superior and are influenced accordingly; but the influence is not beneficial. Malays have been known to incite them to head-hunting, using them as tools for their own ends, and when entering upon one of their frequent revolutions always manage to enlist the support of Dayaks whom they have deceived by promises. The late comers have already occupied most of the main courses of the great rivers, and are constantly pressing the rightful owners back into the interior. The Dutch officials, be it said to their credit, are helping the latter against the intruders, and at times the government has limited the activities of the Malays on some rivers. But it is difficult, and apparently impossible, to stop a process of absorption that began centuries ago. The ultimate extinction of the Dayak is inevitable because the Malay is not only stronger, but has the additional advantage of being more prolific. SUPPLEMENTARY NOTES TO THE TRIBES IN DUTCH BORNEO VISITED BY THE AUTHOR KAYANS The Kayans of Dutch Borneo are not numerous. Outside of Long Blu on the Mahakam they are found chiefly on the Kayan River in the large district of the northeast called Bulungan. They occupy the lower course, reaching not quite to Long Pangian, though having settlements there. Three subtribes are known to exist here, Oma-Gaai, Oma-Laran, and Oma-Hiban. The first named, also called Segai, live in Kaburau, Bruen, and Long Pangian. They appear somewhat different from the rest in language, and they abstain from rusa (deer) as food, while the others eat it. They file off ten teeth in the upper front jaw. At the headwaters of the Kayan River in Apo Kayan lives a subtribe, Oma-Lakan, said to number about 400; these do not file the front teeth. In Chapter IX is described a recent head-hunting raid by the Kenyahs on these Kayans. KENYAHS The Kenyahs are found only within the Bulungan district on the Kayan River. They are settled principally at the headwaters in Apo Kayan and at the sources of a northern tributary, the Bahau, in Podjungan. In these two regions it is estimated that they number altogether about 25,000. Down the river they have a few kampongs below Long Pangian, in the same vicinity; west of it are a few more, as mentioned in the description of my journey. On attempting to ascend the river further one would soon reach a vast extent of country entirely uninhabited except around the headwaters. The Bahau, too, is inhabited only at its source, and both rivers pass through wild, picturesque regions. On that portion of the Kayan called Brem-Brem the river presents a formidable array of kihams which defeated the government's attempt to establish communication between Apo Kayan and the debouchure of the river. This was desirable for the sake of provisioning the garrison. An officer of the Dutch army in Borneo told me that from military reports and the testimony of Kenyahs he estimated that the Brem-Brem is a continuous stretch of kihams for thirty kilometres. The Kenyahs had told him that they walked two days and he thought that for four kilometres the river ran underground. These difficult conditions compel the Kenyahs to take another route in their travels to Tandjong Selor, marching over the watershed to the Bahau River, where they make new prahus and then continue the journey. I give a list of subtribes with reserve: Oma-Bakkah, Oma-Lisan, Oma-Kulit, Oma-Lim, Oma-Puah, Oma-Yalan, Oma-Tokkung, Oma-Bakkung, Oma-Bam, Oma-Lung, Oma-Badang, Lepo-Tepó, Lepo-Táo, Lepo-Maot, Lepo-Ké Anda Páh, Lepo-Ké Ang Lung, Lepo-Ké Oma-Lasang. Most of the Lepo are on the Bahau. My informant, who had travelled in the interior, said there was little difference in the languages of these subtribes. The Kenyahs, a few Kayans, and the Katingans mutilate the membrum virile by transpiercing the glans and the urethra, and a piece of brass wire is inserted. A Kenyah tribe (Oma-Badang) in Podjungan, makes two perforations so directed that the wires are crossed. The kapala of the Penihing kampong Long Kai, on the Mahakam, told me that Kayan and Kenyah are the same people. He probably knew the Kayans only by personal experience, but his opinion is curious in view of the fact that the two tribes have been bracketed by Dr. A.C. Haddon and Dr. J.H.F. Kohlbrugge. MURUNGS (Notes from kampong Tumbang Marowei, on the Laong, a tributary to the Barito River, in Central Borneo) At the time of childbirth two to four women and one blian attend the prospective mother, who assumes a recumbent position with the upper portion of the body slightly raised. The blian blows upon a cupful of water which the woman drinks in order to make delivery easy. The umbilical cord is cut with a knife or a sharp piece of ironwood, and the afterbirth is buried. Death in labor is not unknown, and twins are born occasionally. The mother is confined for a week, and she is forbidden to eat pork, eggs, new rice, cocoanut oil, or any acid substance. She may partake of ordinary rice, lombok (red pepper), as well as sugar, and all kinds of fruit except bananas. She bathes three times a day, as is her usual custom. In one week, as soon as the navel is healed, two or three fowls are killed, or a pig, and a small feast is held at which rice brandy is served. The child is suckled for one year. No name is given the infant until it can eat rice, which is about five months after birth. At the age of six years, or when it begins to take part in the work of the paddi fields, fishing, etc., the name is changed. In both cases the father gives the name. The kapala, my informant, changed his name a third time about ten years previously, when he entered the service of the government. Names are altered for the purpose of misleading evil spirits. Children were few here, one reason being that abortion is a common practice, as is instanced in the case of the kapala's wife who prided herself on her success in this regard on ten occasions. Massage as well as abortifacient herbs are employed for the purpose. The root of a plant in general use is soaked in water before administering. I was also shown a vine which was about two centimetres in diameter and was told that if a portion of this was cut off and the end inserted into a pint bottle the vine would yield sufficient juice to fill it in a night. In case children are not wanted both husband and wife drink of this liquid after the morning meal, and both abstain from water for the remainder of the day. It is believed that afterward it would be possible for the man to have offspring only by marrying a new wife. There are also several specifics to prevent conception, but none for producing fertility. The kapala gave as reasons for this practice scarcity of food and woman's fear of dying. Both seem incongruous to fact and primitive ideas, and perhaps his view would better be accepted only as an indication of his ignorance in the matter. The young people are taught to dance by the blian before they are married, and take lessons for a year or two. The Murung blian possesses three small wooden statues of human beings which he employs in recovering brua (souls) and bringing them back to persons who are ill, thus making them well. These images are called jurong, two being males, the other female, and carrying a child on its back. While performing his rites over either sex the blian holds the female jurong in his right hand, the other two being inserted under his girdle, one in front, the other at the back, to protect him against his enemies. In the case of a child being ill its brua is brought back by means of the infant carved on the back of the effigy. Undoubtedly the images are similar in character to the kapatongs I have described as occupying an important place in the lives of the Duhoi (Ot-Danum), the Katingan, and other tribes of Southwestern Borneo. PENYAHBONGS (Notes from the Upper Busang River, Central Borneo) The Dutch officials give this tribe the name of Punan-Penyahbongs; the Malays call them Punans, seldom Penyahbongs. The Saputans, a neighbouring tribe, told me that the Penyahbongs and the Punans make themselves mutually understood. Whether they really are Punans or have been called so because of their recent nomadic habits is difficult to determine. However, since they declare themselves to be Punans, in view of all related circumstances it is safe to conclude that they are allied to that great nomadic tribe. According to the Penihing chief in Long Kai the name Penyahbong was applied formerly not only to the people, but also to the mountain range in which they were living, the Müller mountains, around the headwaters of the Kapuas River in the Western Division. The western sides of the Müller mountains seem to have been their headquarters, and most of them still live west of the mountains. To one of the tributaries of this river the tribe owes the name by which they are known among Punans, Saputans, and Bukats, who call the Penyahbongs simply Kreho. They are not numerous and so far as my information goes they are limited to a few hundred. Gompul, the most reliable of my Malays in that region, and one of the first to arrive in those parts, told me that his mother had been captured by the Penyahbongs and kept by them for thirty-five years, until her death. According to his estimate there were over two hundred of them in the Müller mountains, and they had killed many Malays, taking their heads. Three chiefs were famous for being very tall. Fishing with tuba is known to them, also to the nomadic Punans and Bukats, Saputans, and Penihings. The Penyahbongs believe they were placed in this world by an antoh. Omens are taken from nine birds and from dreams. When a house is finished there are two or three hours' dancing in the night by men and women, one man playing the sapi (native guitar). The child is born outside of the house. One or two women stand by to take it, wrapped in cloth, into the dwelling, where for three days it remains unbathed. Although death at childbirth is known to occur, usually within fifteen minutes the mother rises and repairs to the house. The umbilical cord is cut with a sharp bamboo and the afterbirth is not taken care of, dogs generally being permitted to eat it. When the child can walk the father and mother give it a name. No abortion is practised, there are no puberty ceremonies, and sexual intercourse is not practised during menstruation. SAPUTANS (Notes from the Kasao River, a tributary to the Upper Mahakam) The name Saputan is derived from the word sahput, sumpitan (the blow-pipe), and probably means, "those who have sumpitan." In the upper part of the Kasao River is a big back current called Saputan and the people who originally lived at the headwaters have the same name as the current. At first they were roaming in the mountains, though not conflicting with the Penyahbongs, and later settled in four kampongs which, beginning with the uppermost, at the time of my visit were: 1. Pomosing (mouse) at a tributary of the same name. 2. Data Láong (land of durian). 3. Ong Sangi (ong = river). 4. Nomorunge (a common, small, black and white bird) on a tributary of the same name; with hardly a hundred full-grown persons, this is the largest. Formerly the office of the chief, tjúpi, was hereditary. When he became old he was succeeded by his son. The woman bears her child in the house, surrounded by women, her husband, and another man. She assumes a lying position and is helped by being frequently lifted up, and by stroking. The abdomen is rubbed with a certain medicinal herb, first having been heated over the fire, to facilitate the expulsion of the afterbirth, which later is hung in a tree. Having tied a vine round the umbilical cord near the abdomen they cut the cord with a sharp piece of bamboo. The assisting women wash the baby as well as the mother. For two days after childbirth she does no work, and for some time she must not eat the fat of pig or fish. In case of twins being born, they are welcome if the sex is the same, but if one is male and the other female, one is given away, the father exercising his preference. Two months after birth a name is given by the father. Should the mother die, no other woman willingly suckles the child unless the father has a daughter who can do it. However, by paying from one to three gongs a woman may be induced to undertake the duty. ORANG BAHAU (On the Mahakam River) Bahau is the name of a river in Apo Kayan, where the tribes of the Mahakam River lived before they migrated to their present habitations, a hundred and fifty to two hundred years ago. The Penihings, Kayans, Oma-Sulings, and Long-Glats speak of themselves as Orang Bahau, as also do the Saputans, though probably they did not originally come from Apo Kayan. According to these Dayaks the designation as used by the Malays signifies people who wear only chavat (loin cloth), and the Punans and Ibans are said to be included under the same term. PUNANS AND BUKATS (Notes from kampong Long Kai on the Mahakam River) The formidable king cobra (_naia bungarus_) is feared by the Punans, who have no remedy for the bite of this or any other venomous snake. The Bukats are said to know a cure which they share with the Penihings; the bark is scraped from a certain tree and the juice is applied to the wound. Death from lightning is unknown to any of these three tribes. The Punans apparently do not attribute disease to the adverse influence of an antoh, although their remedy is the same, consisting of singing in the night and removing small stones from the abdomen or other parts that may be affected. The Bukats whom I met were beautifully tatued. The kapala whom I saw at Long Kai had the mark of a ripe durian on each shoulder in front and an immature one above each nipple. On the lower part of the upper arm was a tatu of an edible root, in Penihing called rayong. Over the back of his right hand, toward the knuckles, he had a zigzag mark representing the excrescences of the durian fruit. In regard to the presence of spirits, number of souls, blians, disease, and its cure, restrictions for pregnant women, the child's cradle--the ideas of the Bukats are identical with those of the Penihings, and possibly are derived from them. PENIHINGS (Notes from the Mahakam River) The Penihings get their supply of ipoh, the poison for the sumpitan darts, from Punans who live at the sources of the rivers of the Western Division. According to native report the trees which furnish the juice do not grow along the Mahakam and the nearest country where they are found is to the south of Tamaloë. As is the case with the Punans and Bukats, cutting the teeth is optional. Restrictions imposed during pregnancy do not differ from those of other tribes described. At childbirth no man is permitted to be present. For three days the mother eats boiled rice, red pepper, and barks of certain trees, and she may work on the third day. Twins are known to occur. As soon as the navel is healed a name is given to the child. Both Penihing and Saputan, if asked, are allowed to give their own names. Marriages are contracted while the woman is still a child. There are no marriage ceremonies and divorces are easily obtained. If a married woman is at fault with another man the two must pay the injured husband one gong, as well as one gong for each child. In case the husband is at fault, the same payment is exacted by the injured wife. The Penihings have a game called ot-tjin which I also observed in other Bornean tribes, and which to some extent is practised by the Malays. This game, generally known among scientific men by the name mancala, is of the widest distribution. Every country that the Arabs have touched has it, and it is found practically in every African tribe. It is very common in the coffee houses of Jerusalem and Damascus. A comprehensive account of the game mancala is given by Mr. Stewart Culin, the eminent authority on games, in the Report of the U.S. National Museum for 1894, pages 595-607. With the Penihings the complete name is aw-li on-nam ot-tjin, meaning: playon-nam fish. An essential of the game is an oblong block of heavy wood which on its upper surface is provided with two rows of shallow holes, ten in each row, also a larger one at each end. The implement is called tu-tung ot-tjin, as is also both of the large single holes at the ends. There are two players who sit opposite each other, each controlling ten holes. The stake may be ten or twenty wristlets, or perhaps a fowl, or the black rings that are tied about the upper part of the calf of the leg, but not money, because usually there is none about. The game is played in the evenings. Two, three, four, or five stones of a small fruit may be put in each hole; I noticed they generally had three; pebbles may be used instead. Let us suppose two have been placed in each hole; the first player takes up two from any hole on his side. He then deposits one in the hole next following. Thus we have three in each of these two holes. He takes all three from the last hole and deposits one in each of the next three holes; from the last hole he again takes all three, depositing one in each of the next three holes. His endeavour is to get two stones in a hole and thus make a "fish." He proceeds until he reaches an empty hole, when a situation has arisen which is called gok--that is to say, he must stop, leaving his stone there. His adversary now begins on his side wherever he likes, proceeding in the same way, from right to left, until he reaches an empty hole, which makes him gok, and he has to stop. [Illustration: THE GAME MANCALA AS USED BY THE PENIHINGS.] To bring together two stones in one hole makes a "fish," but if three stones were originally placed in each hole, then three make a "fish"; if four were originally placed, then four make a "fish," etc., up to five. The player deposits the "fish" he gains to the right in the single hole at the end. The two men proceed alternately in this manner, trying to make "fish" (ára ot-tjin). The player is stopped in his quest by an empty hole; there he deposits his last stone and his adversary begins. During the process of taking up and laying down the stones no hole is omitted; in some of them the stones will accumulate. On the occasion of the game described I saw two with eight in them. When one of the players has no stones left in his holes he has lost. If stones are left on either side, but not enough to proceed, then there is an impasse, and the game must be played over again. OMA-SULINGS (On the Mahakam River) To marry the daughter of a noble the man must pay her father twenty to thirty gongs (each costing twenty to forty florins). The price of the daughter of a pangawa is from one to three gongs, and to obtain a wife from the family of a pangin costs a parang, a knife, or some beads. Women assist at childbirth, which takes place within the room, near the door, but generally no blian is present. When a girl has her first menstruation a hen or a pig is killed, and in the evening the blood thus obtained is applied to the inside of a folded leaf which the blian wafts down her arms--"throwing away illness," the meat of the sacrifice being eaten as usual. The same treatment is bestowed upon any one who desires good health. As many infants die, it is the custom to wait eight or ten days after birth before naming a child, when a similar sacrifice is made, and a leaf prepared in like manner is passed down the arms of the infant by the blian. In selecting a name he resorts to an omen, cutting two pieces of a banana leaf into the shape of smaller leaves. According to the way these fall to the ground the matter is decided. If after two trials the same result is obtained the proposed name is considered appropriate. Also on the occasion of marriage, a similar sacrifice and the same curative practice are used. When couples tire of each other they do not quarrel. The husband seeks another wife and she another husband, the children remaining with the mother. The sacred numbers of the Oma-Sulings are four, eight, and sixteen. Contact with a woman's garment is believed to make a man weak, therefore is avoided. The interpretation of designs in basketwork, etc., is identical with the Oma-Sulings and the Penihings, though the women of the last-named tribe are better informed on the subject. The antoh usually recognised by the name nagah, is called aso (dog) lidjau by the Oma-Sulings and Long-Glats, while among the Penihings and Punans it is known as tjingiru, but nagah is the name used also in Southern Borneo, where I frequently noticed it in designs. On the Mahakam few are the Oma-Suling and Long-Glat houses which are not decorated with an artistic representation of this antoh. Among the Penihings in Long Tjehan I never saw a sword hilt carved with any other motif. On the knife-handle it is also very popular. There are three modes of disposing of the dead: by burying in the ground a metre deep; by depositing the coffin in a cave, or by making a house, called bila, inside of which the coffin is placed. A raja is disposed of according to either the second or third method, but the ordinary people of the kampong are placed in the ground. LONG-GLATS (Notes from Long Tujo, Mahakam River) Before they emigrated from Apo Kayan the name of the Long-Glats was Hu-van-ke-raw. Attached to Long Tujo is a small kampong occupied by the Oma-Tapi, who speak a different language, and almost opposite, scarcely a kilometre down the river, is another inhabited by the Oma-Lokvi, who speak a dialect other than Long-Glat. Not far west of here is a kampong, Nahamerang, where the Bato-Pola live, said to be Kayan. The Long-Glats appear to be powerful, but their measurements are very irregular. They seem darker in colour than the other Bahau people, most of them showing twenty-six on the von Luschan colour scale. Pregnant women and their husbands are subject to restrictions similar to those already described in regard to other tribes. In addition may be mentioned that they must not eat two bananas that have grown together, nor sugar-cane which the wind has blown to the ground, nor rice if it has boiled over the kettle, nor fish which in being caught has fallen to the ground or in the boat. The afterbirth drops through the floor and is eaten by dogs or pigs. The still-born child is wrapped in a mat and placed in a hollow tree. The mother may work in five days. Two to four weeks elapse before the child is named by the blian and this ceremony is accompanied by the sacrifice of a pig. In cases of divorce the children may follow either parent according to agreement. The coffin is a log hollowed out, and provided with a cover. At one end is carved the head of Panli, an antoh, and at the other his tail. Many vestments are put on the corpse, and for a man a parang is placed by his side within the coffin. The house is then made and the coffin placed inside. DUHOI (Ot-Danums) (Notes from the Samba River, Southwestern Borneo) The new-born child is washed with water of that which is brought to the mother, and the afterbirth is thrown into the river. Most of the women, after bearing a child in the morning, walk about in the afternoon, though some have to wait a few days. Their food for some time is rice and fish, abstaining from salt, lombok (red pepper), fat, acid, and bitter food, also meat. Seven days after birth the child is taken to the river to be bathed. On its return blood from a fowl or, if people are well to do, from a pig that has been sacrificed, is smeared on its forehead and chest, and a name is given. The presence of the blian not being required, the parents give the name, which is taken from a plant, tree, flower, animal, or fish. A wristlet is placed around each wrist and the name is not changed later in life. There are no puberty nor menstruation ceremonies. No sexual intercourse is permissible while a woman is pregnant, nor during menstruation, nor during the first three months after childbirth. Cousins may marry. Evidence of polyandry is found among the Duhoi. Eight years previous to my visit on the river Braui lived for six years a woman blian about thirty years old, who had three young husbands. She practised her profession and the husbands gathered rattan and rubber. She was known to have had thirty-three husbands, keeping a man a couple of weeks, or as many months, then taking others. She had no children. A design representing the flying prahu, described in Chapter XXXI, is also occasionally seen in Kahayan mats, the idea being that it may be of assistance to some beneficent antoh. In this connection it is of interest to note how the Kahayans use the flying prahu as a feature of the great tiwah festival. Drawings of the craft are made in colours on boards which are placed in the house of ceremonies, and are intended to serve as a conveyance for the liao. Such drawings are also presented to the good antoh, Sangiang, as a reward for his assistance in making the feast successful, thus enabling him to fly home. UPPER AND LOWER KATINGANS (Southwestern Borneo) Of the Dayaks living about the headwaters of the Katingan River Controleur Michielsen, in his report quoted before, says: "I cannot omit here to mention that the Dayaks of these regions in language and habits show the closest agreement with the Alfurs in Central Celebes, whom I visited in 1869, and that most of the words of the Alfur language (which I at once understood because it resembles the low Java language) also here in the Dayak language were observed by me. This circumstance affords convincing testimony in favour of the early existence of a Polynesian language stock and for a common origin of the oldest inhabitants of the archipelago." There appears to be much similarity in regulations regarding marriage, birth, death, and other adats as observed by the Katingans, Duhoi, and Mehalats. The latter, who live on the Senamang, a tributary to the Katingan River near its headwater, may be a Duhoi subtribe, but very little is known about them; the custom of drinking tuak from human skulls is credited to them, and they are looked upon with contempt by the Katingans for eating dogs. With the Katingans it is the custom for the blian to deposit in a cup containing uncooked rice the objects withdrawn from a patient. Having danced and spoken to the cereal he throws it away and with it the articles, the rice advising the antoh that the small stones, or whatever was eliminated, which he placed in the patient, are now returned to him. These Katingans begin their year in June and July, when they cut the jungle in order to make ladangs, months being designated by numbers. At the beginning of the year all the families sacrifice fowls, eat the meat, and give the blood to antoh in accordance with their custom. After the harvest there is a similar function at which the same kind of dancing is performed as at the tiwah feast. On both occasions a game is engaged in which also is found among the Bahau and other tribes, wherein a woman jumps dexterously between heavy pestles that, held horizontally, are lifted up and brought down in rapid succession. Three months later--at the end of the year--another festival occurs. The Katingan calendar may be rendered thus: 1. Cutting the jungle, June and July....... during 2 months 2. Drying the trees and burning them....... during 1 month 3. Planting paddi.......................... during 2 months 4. New paddi............................... in 3 months 5. Harvesting.............................. during 1 or 2 months 6. Waiting................................. during 3 months In order to ascertain the auspicious date for planting paddi these Dayaks employ an astronomical device founded on the obvious fact that in their country there comes a period when a rod placed in an upright position casts no shadow. That is the time for planting. In addition to this method of determination they consult a constellation of three stars which "rise" in the east and "set" in the west during half a year, and are invisible during the following six months. When the three stars appear perpendicularly above the rod in the early morning, before sunrise, then the time to plant is at hand; when they are in the zenith in the late afternoon before sunset, the season for making ladang has come. For these observations, however, a single rod is not used, but an arrangement of rods called togallan, seven in number, which are planted in the ground, the middle one upright, the rest diverging on either side like a fan. Beginning on the left side, six months are indicated, but the togallan does not remain standing more than three; in fact as soon as the planting is finished it is removed. Although the most propitious time is when the sun is at zenith, it is also considered favourable for half the distance from the middle rod toward 3 and toward 5. If paddi is planted in the second month the crop will be injured; if in the fifth month, the plant will be damaged. [Illustration: INDICATION BY THE TOGALLAN OF THE FAVORABLE TIME FOR PLANTING RICE.] Formerly heavy spears made of ironwood were employed not only as weapons, but for agricultural purposes as well, both when making the holes into which the seed grains are dropped and as material in erecting the astronomical device. Each of the seven rods is called ton-dang, as is the pointed stick with which at present the ground is prepared for planting paddi. MISCELLANEOUS With the Kenyahs and many other tribes it is the custom to give boiled rice that has stood overnight to the dogs, pigs, and hens; it is not considered fit for human food. Regarding the number of souls: The Murung says that each person has seven souls, called brua, six being distributed as follows: one at the top of the head, one in each eye and knee, and one in the navel. The Duhoi (Ot-Danum) has also seven brua, one at the top of the head and one in each eye, knee, and wrist. Other tribes speak of three souls. The Kenyahs, according to Dr. J.M. Elshout, have only one brua, located at times in the head, at times in the heart; and the tiger-cat and the orang-utan have stronger brua than man. The Katingans likewise recognise but one, called liao in life, and after death. They also give the same name to the soul of an animal, but the more common usage in the tribes is to call the ghost liao, by the Malays named njava. In regard to the practice of incision, which is used in Southwest Borneo, Chapter XXXV, I am able to furnish some details gathered in Sampit from three Dayaks who had been operated upon. A cut is made in the praeputium lengthwise with a knife (further east a sharpened bamboo is used), a piece of iron wood being used as a support, and the operation which in Katingan is called habálak is performed by the father of the father's brother when the boy is coming of age. Before the event he must go into the river up to his navel seven days in succession, morning, midday, and evening, and stand in the water for an hour. All boys must undergo the operation, which is not sanguinary, the leaves of a tree called mentawa being applied to the wound. They could give no reason why they follow this practice any more than the ordinary Dayak can explain the purpose of tatuing. With the Kayans, and, indeed, all the tribes I met in Dutch Borneo, it is the custom to urinate in a sitting position. To the observer it is strikingly evident that the mammae of both Dayak and Malay women retain firmness and shape much longer than is the case with white women. A SHORT GLOSSARY _adat_, precept, regulation, religious observance. _antoh_, spirit, good or evil. _atap_, a shelter, consisting of a mat resting on upright saplings, often erected in the boats on long journeys. _babi_, pig. _badak_, rhinoceros. _balei_, a general name for a house of worship. _barang_, goods, things, belongings. _blanga_, large, valuable jar, usually of Chinese manufacture. _blian_, priest-doctor. _bom_, custom-house. _brua_, soul. _chavat_, loin-cloth. _company_ (the), the government. _cranyang_, basket. _damar_, resin. _gutshi_, large jar. _inlander_, native. _ipoh_, poison for the dart of the blowpipe, also the tree from which it is secured (the upas tree). _kali_, river. _kampong_, native village. _kapala_, chief (= pumbakal). _kidyang_, a small kind of deer. _kiham_, rapids. _kuala_, mouth of a river. _ladang_, paddi field. _laki_, man, male. _lombok_, red pepper. _mandau_, Dayak short sword (= parang). _mandur_, overseer. _nagah_, fabulous animal, the apparition of a spirit. _onder_, native subdistrict chief. _orang_, man. _paddi_, rice. _parang_, Dayak short sword (= mandau). _pasang-grahan_, public lodging-house. _pisau_, small knife. _plandok_, mouse-deer (_tragulus_). _prahu_, native boat. _pumbakal_, chief (= kapala). _raja_, a native chief, or noble. _raja besar_, big raja. _ringit_, the Dutch coin of f. 2.50. _rupia_, florin, guilder. _rusa_, deer. _sambir_, mat made from palm leaves. _sarong_, a cloth wound around the loins. _sayur_, vegetable stew. _sumpitan_, blowpipe. _takut_, timid. _ticcar_, mat made from rattan. _tin_, five-gallon tin can. _tingang_, great hornbill. _tingeling_, scaly ant-eater. _tuak_, native rice brandy. _tuan_, master, lord. _tuan besar_, great master or lord. _tuba_, root used for poisoning the water for fishing purposes. _utan_, jungle, woods. _wah-wah_, gibbon, a long-armed monkey. _wang_, coin, money. INDEX Aaton Kohang (antoh), tale of Acidosis, cure of Ado, harvest festival at Adventures in Pursuit of Magic, folk-tale Agility, of natives Agriculture, vast possibilities for Ah Sewey, photographer Airplane, foreshadowed in folk-tale Ajo River, the Akieh, Doctor Tjon Alcohol, from rice and from sugar-cane Alfurs of Central Celebes, resemblance of Katingans to Amban Klesau, boatman Amenaran, folk-tale about Amon Amang, the fatherless boy Aneitjing, legend of Angkipi Animals, of Borneo; of the jungle; of Central Borneo; laughing at, feared by Long-Glats; Mrs. Meyer's collection of; Dayak belief concerning souls of. _See also_ Blood of sacrificed animals Annandale, Doctor N. Ant-eater, the scaly; supposed to bring good luck Anthracite coal Antimony Antiquities, Hindu _Antoh Who Married a Saputan, The_, folktale Antohs (good and evil spirits), various designations for; shape usually assumed by; kinds of; haunts of; sacrifices to attract good; attracted by music and dancing; the nagah; the sangiang; three birds that call; disease caused by evil; at ear-piercing operation; singing to attract; food offered to; evil, ejected by singing; represented on kapatongs; flying prahu presented to; sacrifice to, at rice-planting; at harvest feast; at funeral feast; guarding the dead; in crocodiles; in trees; representation of, on the sapundo; evil; placed in the world by, belief of natives; the nagah in decorative designs; names given to nagah by different tribes; drawing of flying prahu presented to; folktales about Ants, in the jungle; a raid by; along Busang River Apes Apo Kayan trading expedition from; the garrison in; head-hunting in; relics from; Oma-Sulings from; home of the Long-Glats; Kenyahs of; the Oma-Lakans of Aptitude, of natives Arabs, in Borneo; conversion of Java by Artistic character of natives _Artocarpus integrifoha_ Asia: Borneo, Java and Sumatra formerly parts of Astronomical device for determining best time for rice-planting Auguries. See Omens. Australia, sun disregarded by blacks of Baggage, story of excessive charge for carrying; opening of many pieces of Bahandang, arrival at Bahau River, the; inhabited at source only; tribes from Bahau tribes, the Bahau-Kenyah tribe Bakas (hereditary rajas) Bakkaang River, the Bakompai, the; characteristics of Balei, the (house of worship) Bali Balik Papan, oil-producing centre Balok tribe, the Bamboo, abundance of, in Borneo; sumpitan darts carried in cases made of; food cooked in; uses of split; tent protected by; bandage made from; baskets Banana, rice wrapped in leaves of; omens taken with leaves Bandjermasin, population of; founding of; principal town in Dutch Borneo; meaning of the name; the hotel in; climate of; church and museum in; Protestant and Catholic missionaries in; departure for; return to; epidemic of cholera at; final start from; a journey through the country northeast of; the cats and dogs in Bangkal, natives from; different tribes in; the Tamoans of; epidemic of cholera at Banglan, fight of, with crocodile Bangsul, boatman Banquet, given by controleur at Sampit Baren, Controleur, heads presented to Barito River, the; the journey up; rapids of Basap tribe, the Baskets, bamboo, designs on Batavia, arrival at; departure from; return to; Hindu statues presented to museum at Bathing, in the tropics; frequent, of natives; a visit from native women at time for Batokelau Bato-Pola tribe, the Bats, in the jungle; in caves of Kong Beng Batu Boa Bayumbong Beads, necklaces of; cradle decorated with; valuable old Bear; as food; strange animal resembling; gall of, used as medicine Beards, on natives Bees Belimbing, village of Berg, Dr. Afred Berger, Mr., experience of, with ironwood floors Beri-beri; green peas used to counteract; polished rice as cause of; curing of crew of _Kronprinz Wilhelm_ stricken with; epidemic of, at Sembulo; in prison at Sampit Beringan, the pasang grahan at; elevation at Betel, chewing of; betel box on kapatongs Biha, the Murungs at Birds, of Borneo; kept in houses; caught in snares; worship of; antoh called and fed by; seen along Busang River; argus pheasant; hornbills; omen; the punai; white-tail pheasant; the raja; snake; the teong; Mrs. Meyer's collection of; folktales about Blacksmiths, Dayaks, skilful; art of, dying out among Saputans Blangas, valuable old Blarey, Penihing chief Blatei River, the Blians (priest-doctors), male and female; possessed by good antohs; constant occupation of; shield of; dress of Murung; dance of; among the Penyahbongs; Saputan belief in; at great triennial festival; rice-throwing by; march of; funeral of; methods practised by, for cure of disease; singing of; juggling of; the usual remuneration of; wooden statues used by Murung Blood of sacrificed animals, smeared on principals of any feast or ceremony; on kapatongs; on stones; at marriage ceremony; at rice-planting; at harvest feast Blow-pipe. _See_ Sumpitan Blu River, the Boat, native keelless. _See also_ Prahu. Boatmen: the Dayak; meal of the Dayak; Amban Klesau; wages of; dismissal of Malay; Longko; refusal of, to continue journey; Djobing; party sent to Tamaloë to hire; the Penyahbong; illness of; a strike among; unexpected addition to crew of; inefficient; wearied by carrying goods to top of ridge; more men procured by Saputan chief; easily obtained on the Mahakam; plan of, to receive double wages; the meal of the Malay; on the Samba at night; shout of, resembling college yell; difficulties with Malay coolies Boh River, the Bone, engraved Boots, London Alpine Borneo, the second largest island; formerly a part of Asia; climatic conditions of; mountains of; river system of; rain in; dry season in; useful trees of; fruits of; animal life of; mineral resources of; population of; early history of; colonised by Hindu Javanese; the Malays in; European occupation of; geographical features of; native tribes of; original inhabitants of, unknown; along the east coast of; strong drink seldom abused by natives of; trade in; stormy weather along coast of; plan of expedition through Central; preparation for journey through Central; distance covered on journey through Central Boro Budur, Buddhist monument, II Borro, the cocoanut monkey, folk-tale of Botanical gardens at Buitenzorg Boys, Kenyah Bracelets, brass and silver; gold; used in blian's dance _Branak, the Antoh_, folk-tale Brandy: rice; from sugar-cane; drunk from skulls; at marriage ceremony; at rice-planting and harvesting; at funeral feast; Tamoan method of making Brani River, the Braui River, the Breast-plates Brem-Brem River, the, rapids of British, in Borneo British India Brooke, James, made Raja of Sarawak; exploring expedition of Brouers, B. Brua. _See_ Souls Bruen, the Kayans in Brunei, founded by Hindu Javanese; Pigafetta's expedition to _Buceros rhinoceros_ Buddha, statues of, and scenes from life of, in the Boro Budur; statue in temple of Mundut; in caves of Kong Beng Buddhism, former main seat of, in Java, II; of first settlers in Borneo Buffaloes, water Bugis, the, absorbed by Malays; weaving of Buitenzorg, botanical gardens at; Governor-General's palace at; a visit to the Governor-General at Bukats, the, settlements of, in Upper Mahakam region; customs of; food of; original home of; strictly monogamous; punishment for matrimonial unfaithfulness by; women of; sumpitans and mats made by; customs regarding childbirth; tuba-fishing practised by; beautiful tatuing of; cure for snake-bite known to; death from lightning unknown to; beliefs identical with those of Penihings; experts in use of sumpitan; head-hunting raid by Bukit mountain ridge, the Bukits, the, at Angkipi; primitive character of; physical characteristics of; customs of; teeth filed by; weapon of; sleeping-mat of; yielding to Malay influence; nomadic people; the Ulu-Ots Bulau River, the Bulungan, the Sultan of; size and population of; Kayans and Kenyahs of Bulungan River, the Bumirata, rubber plantation near Bundang, tiwah feast at Buntok Buntut Mangkikit Burial cave of the Penihings Busang River, the; the journey up; rapids of; delightful landscape on west side of; the watershed of; rapid rise of; animals and birds seen along; fish in; insects seen along; the orchids on; superb scenery on; elevation of watershed of; data from, concerning Penyahbongs Busang tribe, the Businesslike character of natives Cajuput oil Calendar, the Katingan Camping-houses, for travellers. _See_ Pasang grahan Canal, to Martapura Candelabrum, stand resembling Cannibals Canyon, trip through a Caps, rattan Carriers, the Carvings, on house at Data Lingei; in a Long-Glat's house; on casket; on kapatongs; on flying prahu Casket, a carved. _See also_ Coffin Cassava Cat, wild; tame kitten of; short-tailed Cattle, wild Caves, containing Hindu antiquities; near Kandangan; cave of Kimanis Celebes, climate of North; Alfurs of Central Cemetery, at Sembulo; at Tevang Karangan Centipedes, appearance of, an omen; met by head-hunting party; in caves of Kong Beng Cereals, removal of husks of Chairs Chalk cliff Characteristics of natives Chavat (loin-cloth) Chiefs, tall Penyahbong Childbirth, restrictions preceding; methods employed to prevent; Bukat customs regarding; Duhoi customs regarding; Long-Glat customs; Murung; Oma-Suling; Penihing; Penyahbong; Punan; Saputan Children, Malay at Samarinda; flogging of; few among Dayaks; many among Malays; a Kenyah child's funeral; of the Kenyahs; ornaments worn by; provisions shared with; Dutch, on steamer; light colour of native; born blind; marriage of; of the Penyahbongs; of the Sapucans; number of, in family; at great triennial feast; native games for; protected from sun; of the Long-Glats and Oma-Sulings; bathing of infant; Katingan; restrictions preceding birth of; naming of; custom of changing name of; at Kuala Kapuas; still-born Chinese, in Singapore; number of, in Borneo; early knowledge of Borneo had by; important element in development of Borneo; trade principally in hands of; at Sampit Chion-in, temple of Cholera; cure of Chonggat, taxidermist Christmas day in the jungle; Christmas eve Cicadas Cigar-cases, made from rattan Cigarettes Classes, social, among native tribes Cleanliness of natives Clearing, a, in the jungle Climate Climbing trees, native methods of Clocks, in Malay's house Coal; along Barito River Coaling of steamers in Japanese harbours Cobra, a king; remedy for bite of Cocks, annoyance caused by crowing of Cocoanuts; plantations of; natives killed by falling Coffin, making the; duplicate made of carved; Katingan name for; for second funeral; of the Long-Glats Coins, used as ornaments Collections, ethnographic, specimens added to Colombo Colour, skin; light, in black and brown races; hair Communal houses Cooking, in bamboo; by the Penyahbongs Coolies, employed as paddlers Cows, at Long Iram; sacrificed at funeral feast Cradle, adorned with beads; customs regarding the Crocodile; fight with a; not eaten; on Katingan River; kapala's brother eaten by; killing of; folk-tale about Crow Culm, Stewart Cure of disease by natives Daily life, of the Penyahbongs; of the Long-Glats Damar, white Dance, of the Murungs; of the blians; at the tiwah feast; war-dance; of blians at triennial feast; of the people at triennial feast Dancing, of the Murungs; to attract good spirits; with masks; of the Duhoi; of the Katingans; at tiwah feast; on completion of Penyahbong house; at harvest festival Dangei hut, the Data Laong, village of; meaning of name; folk-lore from Data Lingei, a one-night camp at Dayaks, number of, in Borneo; extinction of, by Malays inevitable; safety enjoyed by; derivation of the word; name applied to all natives of Borneo except Malays and nomadic peoples; little drunkenness among; of Bulungan; manners of; few children of; ultimately must die out; food of; social classes among; the Kenyahs, the most capable of; Hindu influence among; physical superiority of; and Malays; characteristics of; customs of De Weert, steamship Dead, the, natives' fear of; guarded by kapatongs; guarded by statue of lovers. See also Funeral customs Debtors, as slaves Deer, the kidyang; Bornean method of hunting; along Busang River; mouse; fine specimen killed and eaten; cry of, at noon, an omen; folk-tales about; magic fluid possessed by; as food Demmini, J., photographer; illness of; return of, to Batavia Demum, a form of malaria Designs, decorative Diamond fields of Martapura Disease, cure of, by natives; caused by malicious anto; tatu marks to prevent; natives' fondness for white man's remedies for; skin Divorce among natives Djangkang Djelavat (Bornean fish) Djobing, boatman Djokjakarta Djudjang, rattan gatherers' camp; arrival at Dogs, Dayak, description of; augury concerning lost; treatment of, in hydrophobia cases; not eaten, hunting wild pig with; belief concerning shedding of blood of; traits of; howling of; stump-tailed; folk-tale about; eaten by Mehalats Dongiyak, basket designs interpreted by Dreams, omens from Dress, the Dayak; of Katingan women; of Kenyan women; of the Penyahbongs; mourning Drinking, Kenyah and Malay manner of Drums, in houses at Long Pahangei; blian's Drunkenness rare among natives Dry weather in the jungle Ducks, marsh Duhoi, the (Ot-Danums); head-hunting of; primitive condition of; intermarriage of, with Kahayans; friendly visit of; rich collections for sale by; abundance of kapatongs used by; varying physical aspects of; shaving of foreheads by; the kapala of; method of making fire; sacred number of; customs of; the flying prahu of; polygamy of; marriage customs and ceremonies of; rice-planting and harvesting of; funeral customs of; taking leave of; intelligence of; polyandry among; customs regarding childbirth; number and location of souls of Durian, the, queen of fruits Dutch, the, rule of, in Borneo; flag, on memorial staff Dutch Borneo, population of south and east; population of north; natural resources of; government of; native tribes in; Bandjermasin principal town in; Malays of Dutch Packet Boat Company Dwarf, photograph of, taken Ears, rings worn in; ornamentation of Penyahbongs'; piercing of chiefs; wooden disks in lobes of Earthenware jars Earthquake, on Java Eating, customs regarding Eggs, offered as sacrifice Elephants Elevation Elshout, Dr. J.M.; quoted, on head-hunting Enemy, announcing approach of Equator, on the Erskine, A.M., description of caves of Kong Beng by European influence in Borneo Europeans, number of, in Borneo Eyes, with Mongolian fold; set obliquely _Fatherless Boy, The_, folk-tale Feast, dancing; of the rubber gatherers; on removal of bones of dead; wedding; harvest; the great triennial; kapatongs at; at beginning and end of year _Felis nebulosa_ Filariasis, an attack of Fire, making a, in the jungle; with flint and iron; with rattan and bamboo; by drilling; by friction with rope; by twirling Fire omen Fires, in the jungle Firebrands, used at funeral Fish, of Borneo; in the jungle; method of catching by poisoning river; spearing for; drying; frame for drying; catching by means of explosive; cooked in bamboo; kendokat caught by an otter; abundance of in Busang River; fruit-eating; in pool near Bandjermasin; the patin; folk-tales about Fishing, tuba; expeditions, omens concerning Flies; yellowish gray; black Flowers, of water-plant; of equatorial regions; along Kasao River; on the Kai River Flute Flying prahu, the; legend of; a feature of tiwah feast; as design in mats Fog Folk-lore tales, telling of, in song; of the Kahayans; of the Katingans; of the Long-Glats; Malay influence in; of the Ot-Danums; of the Penyahbongs; of the Saputans Food, hints on proper, for travel in East Indies; of the Dayaks and Malays; at the paddi harvest; at great triennial feast; offered to antohs; of the head-hunters; of the Bukats; of Duhoi bride and groom; of the Long-Glats; of the Penyahbongs; of the Punans Forests of Borneo Fowls, Bornean Framboisia French count, story of a Frogs Fruits of Borneo; the durian; the lansat; the nangca; the rambutan; eaten by fish Fuji, Mount, height of Funeral customs, the second funeral feast; the pantar; the panyanggaran; the sapundo; souls of animals presented to soul of deceased; a child's funeral; of the Bukats; of the Bukits; of the Duhoi; of the Katingans; of the Kenyahs; of the Long-Glats; of the Murungs; of the Oma-Sulings; of the Penihings; of the Penyahbongs; of the Punans; of the Saputans Funeral house; model of a raja's Furniture, European, natives desirous of securing Games: for children; top-spinning; mancala; played at beginning and end of year Garrison, in Apo Kayan; at Long Iram; at Long Kai; at Long Nawang; at Puruk Tjahu, ill German missionaries Gibbon (man-like ape) Glit River, the Gnats Go Hong Cheng, interpreter Goat, at times an antoh Goitre Gold; of Barito River country; hunting for, on Busang River; in Samba and Braui Rivers; on Katingan River; not used by Penyahbongs Gompul Governor-General of Netherlands India Grass, in the jungle Grasshoppers Grijson, H.J. _Grotius_, Dutch steamer Guitar, a native Gunong, camp Gunong Porok, village of, folk-lore from Gunong Rega, height of Haddon, Doctor A.C. Hageman, Captain J.J.M., on character of the Dayak Hair, removal of body; on body, resembling orang-utan; colour of head; parasites in; mustaches; beards; worn cut, by Duhoi; shaving of forehead; cut from head and placed in tree; arrangement of women's Harelip Harvest, paddi; festival Hawk, worship of; a tame Head-hunters, song of; seen on board steamer; meeting an imaginary attack of; food of Head-hunting, measures taken by Dutch government to eradicate; among various tribes; religious fanaticism incentive to; a recent raid; description of a raid; customs regarding the practice of; omens concerning; the purposes of; Captain Hageman quoted concerning; effect of, on disposition of natives; kapatongs of prime importance in; rice-throwing before; folktale about; principal weapon used in; Dayaks incited to by Malays; of the Bukats; not practised by Bukits; of Duhoi chief; of the Duhoi and Katingans; raids of the Ibans; of the Kenyahs; discontinued by Ot-Danums; of the Punans; of the Ulu-Ots Head ornament, women's Heat, intense, in jungle Hens, sacrificed at rubber gatherers' feast; sacrificed at wedding; sacrificed at funeral; hung in bags at night; chickens eaten by Hindu Javanese, first settlers in Borneo; kingdoms founded by; absorbed by Malays Hinduism of first settlers in Borneo Hindus, in South Africa; antiquities of, found in Borneo; brass statue; influence of, among Dayaks Hoang Tshirao, village of Honesty, of natives Honey, native methods of gathering Hong Seng, Chinese merchant Hornbills; the rhinoceros; the tail feathers of; image of, on flying prahu; image of, on pantar Hornets Hose, Doctor Hospitality, of natives House of worship, at Angkipi; at Ado; at Tumingki Houses: camping, for travellers; communal; with upright pillars before; at Tumbang Marowei; custom of burying slave alive underneath; at Long Kai; at Long Pahangei; with beautiful carvings; Malay; high-gabled, in Negara; of the Katingans; form of salutation on entering and leaving; dancing on completion of _How the Penganun was Caught Alive_, folktale Humidity Humour, sense of, among natives Hunchback Hunting, deer; wild pig; rhinoceros; by the Penyahbongs; part taken by women in; omens concerning Hydrophobia Ibans, the; head-hunting raids of; known as Orang Bahau Idenburg, A.W.F., Governor-General of Netherlands India Imperial Limited Express, a race with the Incision, the practice of India, British Indonesians, the Infants, bathing of Infidelity in marital relations, punishment for; rareness of Inheritance, customs regarding Insects, in the jungle; remedy for bites of Intelligence of natives Interpreter, the Inyah Otuntaga, legend of Inu, legend of Ipoh, poison for sumpitan darts Iron Ironwood, kapatongs made of; receptacle for dead made of; boats of; funeral house of; the panyanggaran made of; the pantar; spears of; effect of sleeping on floors of Isau River, the Islamism Ismail; residence of Iyu, folk-tale about _Janssens_, steamship Japan, along the coast of; impressions of Japanese, characteristics of; remedy of, for wounds; a native resembling; medicines sold to natives by Jars, valuable old Java, best season to visit; Buddhist monument in; the garden of the East; formerly part of Asia; Islamism in; an earthquake in; eradicating the plague in Javanese, sailors; soldiers; easily lost in jungle; remarkable intelligence of; Hindu Javanese Javau, edible root Jews'-harp Joking, practical Juggling, by blians Jungle, the, an expedition into; making a shelter in; cutting a clearing in; stagnant atmosphere of; making a fire in; hardwood trees of; ease of ascent in; denseness of vegetation in; animal life in; birds of; rain in; fish in; insects of; rapid growth of vegetation in; grass in; in the midst of; effect of dry weather on Jurong, wooden image used by blian Kaburau Kahayan River, the, Protestant mission on; Malay influence on; folklore from Kahayans, the, cigar-cases made by; the camp among; with beards; compared with Malays; superior intellect of; converts to Christianity among; polygamy of; folk-tale of Kai River, the Kambang, island of Kamkamiak, evil antoh Kandangan, the journey to; arrival at; caves near Kapala, election of, by Duhoi; disabled, at Buntut Mangkikit; tatuing on, at Bali; brother of, eaten by crocodile Kapatongs; attendants on souls of the dead; for protection of the living; carried by head-hunters; curious representations of; transmitted as heirlooms; at feasts; representing a raja; representing a woman with betel box Kapuas River, the Kasao River, the; Saputan name for; drifting down; continuation of journey down; flowers along; rapids of; data from, concerning Saputans Kasungan; at the "onder's" house in Katingan River, the, an expedition to; plan to reach head of, abandoned; ascent of, as far as first renowned rapids; the return trip down; closing of, for tiwah feast; the Dayaks of Katingans, the, Sampit once occupied by; belief of, in good and evil spirits; belief, concerning cure of disease; head-hunting raids of; Upper and Lower; number of; characteristics of; the dwelling of; tatuing of; honey gathering by; a funeral of; first appearance of Upper, at Tevang Karantan; the flying prahu of; children of; dress of women; friendliness of; wives of; customs and beliefs of; crocodile killing by; manner of announcing approach of enemy; murder among; methods of fire-making; restrictions concerning women; sins among; names in vogue among; good and evil omens of; funeral customs of; from Bangkal; folktale of; resemblance of, to Alfurs; manner of curing disease; game played by; festivals of; calendar of; astronomical device of, for determining rice-planting season; belief of, in one soul Katjang idju (native vegetable stew) Kayan River, the, journey up; colour of; rapids of; the trip down; rise of water in; the Kayans and Kenyahs of; inhabited only at source and at headwaters Kayans, the; filing off of teeth by; ethnological collections from; prahus provided by; songs of; dialects of; headhunting by; agreeable to deal with; the women of; few children among; compared with Kenyahs; social classes among; kampong of, at Long Blu; trade of; location of; sub-tribes of; claimed to be same tribe as Kenyahs; known as Orang Bahau Kedu, the district of, II Keladi, water-plant Kelasin, village of Kendokat (fish) Kenyahs, the; from Apo Kayan; the women of; funeral of a child of; tuba-fishing by; the children of; boys of; compared with Kayans; most attractive of the natives; rings worn in ears by; the spear carried by; physical superiority of; characteristics of; cleanliness of; ornaments worn by; removal of body hair by; courtesy of; industry of; head-hunting by; effect of head-hunting on disposition of; most capable of the natives; location of; number of; the sub-tribes of; claimed to be same tribe as Kayans; belief of, concerning soul Keppel, Captain H., _The Expedition to Borneo of H.M.S. "Dido"_ by Kiai Laman Kidyang (deer) Kiham, Atas; Duyan; Mudang; Raja. _See also_ Rapids Killing, by Bukats; among Kenyahs; of soldiers, by Murungs; by Penihing chief; among the Penyahbongs; by Punans; vendetta resulting from Kinabalu, highest mountain in Borneo Kinematograph, return to Tandjong Selor to repair; replaced by a Pathe Kingfisher Kioto, fascination of; hotel at; temple of Chion-in at Klemantan tribes, the Knife, the klevang; carried by women; handle of, made from wah-wah bones; the ancient duhong Kobe, western influence in Kohlbrugge, Doctor J.H.F. Kong Beng, caves of Koningsberger, Doctor J.C. Kreho, name given to the Penyahbongs Krol, W. Kuala Braui Kuala Kapuas; folk-tale from Kuala Samba Kuala Sampit River, the Kuluk Habuus Kutei Kwing Iran, Kayan chief; at the house of La Riviere, Lieutenant C.J. Ladangs (paddi fields), season for clearing jungle for Lahanin River, the _Laki Mae_, folk-tale _Laki Sora and Laki lyu_, folk-tale Lamps, native Language, Malay; resemblance of Dayak to Alfur Lansat, the (fruit) _Lansium domesticum_ Laong River, the Leave-taking, native manner of _Leaves that Baffled Antoh_, folk-tale Ledjuli. _See_ Raja Besar Leeches, jungle; the bite of Legs, wasting of muscles of Lemur, the spectacled Liao. _See_ Souls Lidju, interpreter Lightning, death from, unknown to Bukats, Penihings and Punans Limestone hills Lizard, as food; shot by sergeant; a man-eating; red-backed, supposed to bring good luck _Lobiophasts_ Lodging-house, for Dayaks at Long Pangian Loing, Mr. Lok Besar, a journey to; arrival at; elevation at Long Blu, Kayan kampong at Long-Glats, the, belief of, in friendly spirit; food of; and Oma-Sulings; the women of; Ibans feared by; weaving no longer done by; location of; original home of; characteristics of; mats made by; customs and beliefs of; large families desired by; the children of; folk-lore of; manner of bidding farewell; known as Orang Bahau; former name of; colour of; sub-tribes of; customs regarding childbirth; funeral customs of Long Iram; garrison at; arrival at; description of; temperature at Long Isau, fishing at Long Kai; garrison at; data from, concerning tribes Long Mahan Long Nawang, the garrison at Long Pahangei, great triennial festival at; the camp at; houses of; a second visit to; largest Oma-Suling settlement Long Pangian; dry weather at; the posthouder of; developing plates at; difficulty in securing men at; the tribes at Long Pelaban Long Tjehan, the camp at; Bahau festival at; return to; the rajas in; natives observed in; curing of sick at Long Tujo, the Long-Glats of; folk-lore from; data from, concerning natives Longicornes Longko, Malay boatman; deer killed by; desertion of Lorenz, Dr. Lulo Pakko, the camp at Lung Karang, orchid found near Macassar Madras Magellan's expedition Magic, folk-tale about _Magic Babi Bone, The_, folk-tale Mahakam River, the; fish in; religious ideas on; arrival on; an excursion down; the rapids of; overflow of; Oma-Suling settlements on Upper; departure from region of Upper; Malay influence not extended to Upper; continuing the journey down; dry season on; rapid fall of; the tribes of; data from, concerning tribes Mail, receipt of, in the jungle Maize, cultivation of Malaria Malay, language, the; coolies, difficulty with Malays, in Borneo, number of; influence of; pirates among; food sacrificed to monkeys by; of the Bulungan district; women and children of; food of; method of drinking water; revolution of; at Batu Boa; influence supreme on Barito River; a strike among; outfit of travelling; engaged in gathering rattan; head-hunting raids on; umbrellas carried by; not in Upper Mahakam region; use of cajuput oil by; at Pengaron; and Dayaks; house of; at Belimbing; in Negara; paint used by women; lower portions of great rivers populated by; influence of, on Kahayan and Kapuas Rivers; of Sembulo; influence of, shown in folk-tales; intelligence of; Dayaks being absorbed by Mamberamo River, the, expedition on, recalled Mancala (game), description of Mandau, short sword Mandin, village of Mandumei, water of sea reaches Mangosten (wild fruit) _Manis_ Mansur, Dato Map-making Margasari, Hindu remains at Marriage customs, of the Bukats; of the Bukits; of the Duhoi; of the Katingans; of the Long-Glats; of the Murungs; of Oma-Sulings; of Penihings; of Penyahbongs; of Punans; of Saputans Marriage, unfaithfulness in; faithfulness in Martapura, diamond-fields of; by canal to Masks, dancing with; bought at Data Lingei Massey, B. Mata Punai, decorative design Mats, making of; sleeping; designs on; made at Kuala Kapuas McCann, Alfred W., formula of, for cure of diseases with vegetables McDougall, Dr. Measles Meat, formerly eaten raw Medicine, natives' fondness for white man's; gall of bear used as Mehalats, the, customs of _Melalevea leucodendron_ Men, physical appearance of; women outnumbered by; dressed as women; dress of blian; ear ornamentation of; restrictions concerning women, observed by; regulations observed by widowers; precautions taken by unmarried; mutilation of body by Mendawei (Katingan) River, the, expedition to Mendut, the temple of Merasi River, the; an excursion up; the return journey on Metsers, Lieutenant T.F.J. Mexico, Indians of Meyer, A.F. Meyer, Mrs. A.F., collection of animals and birds of Michielsen, Controleur W.J.; first European to visit Samba River; quoted, on the Ulu-Ots; blangas seen by; quoted, on Katingans Milk, best kind for travel in the tropics Mineral resources of Borneo; gold; iron Missionaries, Protestant and Catholic, in Dutch Borneo Modjopahit, founded by Hindus; fall of Moerman, C. _Mohaktahakam Who Slew an Antoh_, folktale Mohammedanism Money (wang) Money-box, the stealing of a Monkeys: long-nosed; food sacrifices to; supposed to be able to swim; saying of natives of Java concerning; seen along Pembuang River; as food; along the Busang River; figure of, to protect rice-field; superstition concerning red; tale of the cocoanut. _See also_ Orang-utan _and_ Wah-Wah Monogamy Months, designated by numbers Moon, native belief concerning; tatu marks representing Morning-glories Mosque, wooden, at Sembulo Mosquito-netting Mosquitoes; illness caused by sting of _Motherless Boy, The_, folk-tale Moths Motor-boat, prahu towed by Mountains of Borneo: Kinabalu; Gunong Rega; first appearance of; on Busang River; crossing the Bukit; Lung Karang; seen from Batokelau; canyon through; Mountain of Images; seen from Tumingki; the stone man and the stone wife; Muller Mourning garments Mouse-deer, capture of a; superstition concerning Moving-pictures shown to natives Muara Laong Muara Tewe, in Muara Topu Mud, taken from pool bottom Muller mountains, home of the Penyahbongs Murder, vendetta resulting from. _See also_ Killing Murungs, the, physical appearance of; a stay among; dance of; dress of; soldiers killed by; filing of teeth by; marriage customs of; funeral customs of; location of; tatuing of; customs regarding childbirth; wooden images employed by; belief of, concerning number and location of souls Muruts, the Musangs, tame Museum, nucleus of, in Bandjermasin Music, good spirits attracted by Musical instruments: the drum; the flute; the jews'-harp; the sapi; the sarunai; the shield; trumpet; folk-tale about Mustaches Nagah, good and evil spirit; represented in decorative designs; description of; names given to, by different tribes Nagasaki, western influence in Nahamerang, village of Names, in vogue among Katingans; custom of changing Naming of children Nangca (fruit) Napoleonic Wars, the _Nasalis larvatus_ Natives of Borneo. _See_ Dayaks _and_ Tribes Necklaces, bead; made of stalks of plants; on kapatongs Negara _Nepenthes_ Netherlands India, Governor-General of New Guinea, securing men for expedition to; fitting out of expedition to, interrupted by war; omen bird heard at start of an expedition to Newspapers, received at Long Kai Nieuwenhuis, Dr. A.W.; attempt to kill Nipa palm Nohacilat, aboriginal wearing apparel from "Nokken," Norwegian superstition of the Nomorunge, village of Nose, in Long-Glat leave-taking Nudity, chasteness of Numbers, sacred Nuncilao, village of Nundun, the Oatmeal Obongbadjang, folk-tale about Oeloe Soungei, district of Oil, at Balik Papan Oma-Gaai, Kayan sub-tribe Oma-Lakan, the, Kayan sub-tribe Oma-Lokvi, the Oma-Palp, the; festival of Oma-Sulings, the, country of; characteristics of; and the Long-Glats; the great festival of; the women of; funeral customs of; hair colour of; a second visit to; meaning of the name; from Apo Kayan; weaving no longer done by; villages of, on Upper Mahakam; food of; desire of, for large families; included in Orang Bahau; beliefs and customs of; customs regarding childbirth; marriage customs of; omen before naming children; sacred numbers of; use by, of nagah in decorative designs Oma-Tapi, the Ome-Tepe, the Omamahak Omen birds; not eaten; kapatongs of images of Omens: fire, before tuba-fishing; taken from birds; from pig's liver; the centipede; taken by top-spinning; concerning headhunting; from dreams; from banana leaves before naming children; hunting expeditions abandoned because of; good and evil, among the Katingans "Onder," the; head-hunting by Ong Sangi, village of Onions, white Oostenbroek, G. Orang Bahau, the; meaning of name; tribes included in Orang-utan, Dayak resembling; shot by Chonggat; rare in Central Borneo; cries like child when wounded; supposed to be able to swim; stories of attacks of; as food; belief in soul of; folk-tale about _Orang-Utan and the Dayak,_ _The_, folk-tale Orchids, of Borneo; with aromatic fragrance; search for rare variety of Ornaments worn by natives Ot-Danums, the; at Telok Djulo; physical appearance of; the village of; ornaments of; tatuing of; story of an unfaithful wife; cure of disease by; on the Katingan River; funeral customs of; of Tevang Karangan; known as Duhoi on the Samba River; headhunting of; meaning of the name; the kapatongs; location and number of; primitive conditions of; customs regarding childbirth; belief concerning number and location of souls; folklore of Ot-tjin, the game Otter, fish caught by; folk-tale about _Otto_, government river steamer Outfit for travel in the tropics, principal items in Ox, wild Pa-au Paddi. _See_ Rice Paddlers. _See_ Boatmen _Pagan Tribes in Borneo_, quoted Pahandut Pahit (antoh), legend of Paint, face, of Malay women Pajamas, worn by a native Palapak tree, the Pani River, the Pantars (memorial poles) Panyanggaran, the (memorial pole) Paradise flycatcher, the Parang (short sword); inlaid work on blade of Pasang-grahan (camping-house); at Belimbing; at Beringan; at Kandangan; at Long Iram; at Long Pangian; at Samarinda; at Sembulo; protected by palm-leaf mats Pasir; the ex-Sultan of _Pátin Fish_, _The_, folk-tale Peanuts, cultivation of Peas, green, of the East Indies Pembuang River, the, approach to; the trip up Pendahara, camp at _Penganun_, _the Huge Serpent_, folk-tale Pengaron, arrival at Penihings, the, belief of, in friendly spirit; a stay among; articles sold by; murder committed by chief of; characteristics of; houses of; the blian's shield; physical appearance of; valuable collections made while among; a burial cave of; funeral customs of; tribal name of; the raja or chief of; omens of; customs of; hair colour of; voices of; weapons of; the women of; the cradle of; sacred number of; top-spinning by; religious ideas of; the five souls of; method of curing disease; Ibans feared by; weaving done by; Saputans formerly governed by; impossible to obtain folk-tales from; tuba-fishing practised by; included in Orang Bahau; cure for snake-bite known to; death from lightning unknown to; marriage customs of; customs regarding childbirth; filing of teeth by; game played by; use by, of nagah in designs; interpretation of basket designs by Penyahbongs, the, kampong of Tamaloe formed by; a nomadic people; boat crew of; rhinoceros hunting expedition of; characteristics of; head ornament of; ear ornamentation of; garments of; tatuing of; food of; customs of; no disease among; marriage customs of; the women of; the children of; hunting of; weapons of; no divorce among; funeral customs of; compared with the Saputans; the Ulu-Ots; agriculturists; head-hunters; folk-tales of; gold not used by; allied to Punans; number of; known as Kreho; tuba-fishing practised by; name applied also to mountain range; belief of, in antoh; customs regarding childbirth; omens taken by Penyakit, evil antoh Peppers, red Petroleum; value of, in the jungle _Phalaenopsis gigantea_ Pheasants of Borneo; the argus; white-tail, wattled Phonographs, in Tandjong Selor Phosphorescent lights in the jungle Photography in the tropics: camera feared by natives; payment made for privilege of photographing natives; refusal to be photographed; ornaments put on by natives, before being photographed; refusal to permit photograph to be taken while working; disapproval by Raja Paron; bathing of natives to cleanse themselves after being photographed; the harvesters; the ear-piercing operation; the Raja Besar; women rajas; a kapala and his wife Physical appearance of natives Pig, domestic, reading of liver of, as augury; sacrifice of, at dancing feast; sacrifice of, at rubber gatherers' feast; sacrifice of, at ear-piercing operation; meat of, as eaten by natives; killing of, for great triennial festival; dancing around; sacrifice of, at rice-planting Pig, wild; food of Punans; colour of; capture and killing of; along the Busang River; harassed by dogs; giant; herds of; hunting; folktale about Pigafetta, expedition of, to Brunei Pigeons; legend of Pillars, sacred, for benefit of the dead. _See_ Kapatongs Pinang Pineapples Pipa River, the Pirates, Malay Pisha, Penyahbong chief; marriage of daughter of Pitcher-plant, the Plague, the, measures taken to eradicate Plandok (mouse-deer); superstition concerning Platinum Podjungan, the Kenyahs in Poison, used in blow-pipe Polyandry Pomelo, the Pomosing, village of Pontianak, evil antoh Population, of Borneo; of Bulungan Porcupine, killing of; legend of Portuguese, the, early trade relations of, with Brunei Poru, village of Potatoes, unknown to natives Prahu (native, keelless boat), construction of; a gay flotilla; difficulty in procuring; loss and recovery of; time required to build; loading the; of the Kenyahs; bailing out leaky; difficulty in securing men for; given to the natives; upsetting of; with collection of animals and birds, nearly swamped; an unusually large; gondola-like; towed by motor-boat; with bamboo covering in bottom; the flying; legend of the flying Prickly heat Priest-doctors. _See_ Blians Priok, Sultan of Prison at Sampit, beri-beri among inmates of Protestant mission on Kahayan River Proto-Malays Provisions, hints on proper; for trip up Barito River, in; the end of, reached Pulau Tombak Punai (pigeon), legend of Punans, the; a nomadic tribe; shy people of the jungle; avoidance of sun's rays by; skin colour of; different tribes of; physical characteristics of; food of; customs of; filing off of teeth by; renowned for skill in use of sumpitan; a hunting party of; headhunting raid of; two headhunter prisoners; settlement of, at Serrata; marriage customs of; punishment for marital infidelity; original location of; makers of the sumpitan; manner of curing disease; the women of; customs regarding childbirth; the Ulu-Ots; Penyahbongs allied to; tuba-fishing practised by; remedy of, for disease; possess no remedy for bite of snake; death from lightning unknown to; included in Orang Bahau Puruk Tjahu, in Python, man-eating Rails, marsh Rain, in Borneo; storms in the jungle; at Long Nawang; usual occurrence of, at Tamaloe; storms on Lake Sembulo Rainy season in the tropics Raja, the Sultan's; represented by kapatong; office of, hereditary; women rajas Raja Besar, Ledjuli, a visit from; photographing; articles bought from; a trip up the Merasi River with Raja bird, the Raja Paron Rajimin, taxidermist; illness and return of Rambutan (wild fruit) Rapids, of the Barito River; of the Busang River; of the Kasao River; of the Katingan River; of the Kayan River; of the Mahakam River; of the Samba River Rat, large white Rattan, abundance of, in Borneo; cigar-cases made from; uses of split; gatherers of; mats made from; floated down Kasao River; no longer found on Upper Mahakam; caps of Rattles, worn by women; used by blian at wedding Raven, Harry C. Religion, native ideas of Retribution, folk-tale Rhinoceros; horns of; red rubber statue of; hunting; folk-lore tale about Rhinoflax vigil Riam Kiwa River, the; elevation of watershed of Rice, brandy made from; polished a cause of beri-beri; cooked in bamboo; harvesting of; method of husking; cooking of, for great festival; throwing of; making new field for; planting of; time required for cooking; season for planting, determined by togallan; considered unfit for food day after cooking Rickshaw men, the Rifle, loaned by Sultan Rijckmans, L.F.J. Rings, tin and brass, worn in ear-lobes River system of Borneo Rongkang, epidemic at Roth, Ling Royal Dutch Packet Boat Company Rubber; feast of gatherers of; an English plantation; gathering, at Sembulo Rubea, the natives at Rumphius, Dutch steamer Rusa. See Deer Sacrifice, of pig; of hens; of food, to antohs; of slave in building of houses; of water-buffalo; at paddi-planting; when tree falls Sago-palm Sailors, Javanese; Malay Salap (fish) Salt, use of Salt water, issuing from rock; pool of Salutations, when meeting; at leave-taking; on entering and leaving a house Samarinda; arrival at; climate of; the natives in Samariting Samba River, the, fish in; houses on; an expedition up; passing the rapids of; night on; first European to visit; gold in; data from, concerning natives Sambil goreng (native stew) Samoan tribe. See Tamoans Sampit, village of; start for; return to; beri-beri at; banquet given by controleur of Sampit River, the Sand-bars, at mouth of Pembuang River Sand, white Sandpiper, the Sandung (funeral house) Sangiang, the (antoh) Sankuvai, the (bird that calls antoh) Sapundo, the (memorial post) Saputans, the; characteristics of; number of; the women and children of; habits and customs of; marriage customs of; food of; belief of, about disease and its cure; funeral customs of; piercing of ears of; shy about being photographed; makers of the sumpitan; headhunting of; the Ulu-Ots; folklore of; governed formerly by Penihings; tuba-fishing practised by; derivation of the name; four villages of; customs of, regarding childbirth; included in Orang Bahau Sarawak, James Brooke made raja of; success of government of, under white rajas; five groups of people in; fires at Schouten, H.P. Schreuder, R. Schwaner Mountains, the, mineral possibilities of; exploration of; the natives in Sea, water from, reaches Mandumei Sea Dayaks, the Seat, plank used as Segai, the, Kayan sub-tribe _Selatan_, government steam-launch; rough weather on board _Semang, the Bad Boy_, folk-tale Sembulo, Lake, an expedition to; description of; visit to, postponed; the Dayaks on; legend of the tailed people of; second expedition to; storms on; depth of; no evidence of tailed men found at Sembulo, village of, arrival at; mosque and cemetery of; legend of the tailed people of; population, Malay; rubber gathering, chief occupation of; natives from Bangkal brought to; epidemic of beri-beri at; Tamoans superseded by Malays at Senamang River, the, natives of Serpent, huge, man-eating; legends of golden-horned. _See also_ Snake Serrata Shelters, in the jungle Shield: blian's, used as musical instrument; picture of antoh on warrior's; of the Penihings Shyness of natives Siangs, the; tatuing of Singapore; climate of Singing, of Kayan women; of head-hunters; to cure disease; folk-tales; of Penyahbong chief; of the Penyahbong men; of blian at funeral ceremonies; of Katingan women Sins, kinds of, among Katingans Skin, colour of natives'; diseases; formations on thighs Skins, animal, drying of; spoiled by weather conditions Skulls, natives unwilling to sell; used as drinking-vessels Slave, formerly sacrificed to attract antoh; buried alive under houses; stones thought to be; debtors as; killing of, for wealthy man's funeral; formerly sacrificed at tiwah feast; cuts inflicted on, when raja dies Smallpox Snake, poisonous; curious adventure with; deadly bite of black; a fight with; as food; caught and set free; huge, man-eating; bite of cobra; cure for bite of; folk-tales about Snake-bird Snares, for catching birds Social classes, among tribes Soerabaia, point of steamboat connection with Borneo; important commercial centre; arrival at; head-hunters imprisoned at; an earthquake at Soldiers, killing of, by Dayaks Song, of native women; of the head-hunters Sonora Desert, the _Sophia_, government steamship Sora, folk-tale about Souls, belief of various tribes concerning number and location of; departure of, through top of head; of animals presented to soul of deceased person; method of recalling; of animals Spaan, A.W. Spear, the hunting Spiders, effect of bite of; in caves of Kong Beng Spirits, good and evil; Hindu names for good. _See also_ Antohs Squirrel, shot by Chonggat Stalactites, in cave of Kimanis; in caves near Kandangan _Star_, the Montreal, assistance given by reporter for Stars, native belief concerning; tatu-marks representing; rice-planting season determined by Statue, brass, of Hindu origin Stealing, Dayak belief concerning punishment for; of tin cans; scruples about, overcome by Malay influence; of expedition's moneybox; among jungle people Steamers: coaling of, in Japanese harbours; unpleasant trip on Barito River; voyage on a rattan transport; the _De Weert_; the _Grotius_; the _Otto_; the _Selatan_; the _Sophia_ Steel trunk Stew, native, katjang idju; sambil goreng Stones, believed to be alive Store-houses _Story of the Bird Punai_, folk-tale Sugar-cane; alcohol from Suicide among natives Sultan of Bulungan, the, a visit to; marriage of brother of Sultanates established by Malays Sumatra, formerly a part of Asia Sumpitan, the (blow-pipe); expert makers of; method of holding; poison for darts of; the poison-carrying point; the spear point on Sun, belief concerning; exposure to, feared by natives; under equatorial, without head covering Sungei Lobang Sungei Paroi, preparation for journey to Sword, short, of the Dayak Syphilis Tabédjeh, legend of Tail, skin formation resembling Tailed men, the, legend of; no evidence of, found at Lake Sembulo Talinka, folk-lore from Tamaloë, the journey to; arrival at; kampong of, formed by Penyahbongs; origin of the name; usual occurrence of rain at; animals and birds not plentiful at; folk-tales from Tamoans, the; meaning of name; scarcity of food of; cholera ravages among; superseded by Malays at Sembulo; tatuing of Tandjong Priok Tandjong Selor Tapang trees Tapen Bini, Hindu remains at Tapir, the Tappin River, the _Tarsius borneanus_ Tatu-markings: the full moon; stars; the durian fruit; the nagah; fish; the rayong; colour of, from damar; the clothing of the liao, or soul; on entire body; to prevent disease Taxidermy in the tropics Teeth, filing off of; metal plugs worn in Tehi, frame for drying fish Telang kliman, magic liquid Telen River, the Telok Djulo, village of Temang, brass statue at Temperature: maximum in inland Borneo; in Bandjermasin; at Tumbang Marowei; on the equator; at Long Iram; at summit of watershed of the Riam Kiwa River Temple. _See_ Balei Tent, preferred to house; the rot-proof Teong, the bird Teroian tribe, the _Terpsiphone_ Tevang Karangan, Upper Katingans at Throat, sick in his, Saputan expression Thunder-storms Tiger-cat, representation of, as protection; not eaten; image of, on flying prahu; image of, guarding house; soul of Tigers, Indian Tin; cans, stolen by natives _Tinea imbricata_ Tingan, interpreter Tipang Tingai Tiwah feast (second funeral feast) Tjehan River, the Tobacco; native; asked for by women; chewing; given to natives Togallan, time for planting rice determined by Top-spinning, omens taken by Torch Trade in Borneo, mainly conducted by Chinese Traders, native, from Apo Kayan _Tragulus_ Traps, fishing Travellers, and omens Travelling, Malay outfit for; Penihing custom of travelling at night _Tree of which Antoh is Afraid, The_, folktale Trees, of Borneo; felling of; hardwood, of the jungle; methods of climbing tall; poison from; fruit-bearing; falling, and head-hunting raids; fallen but still living; punishment of, when man is killed by falling from; antohs in; sacrifices made on falling of; the crevaia; the durian; the lansat; the tapang; folk-tales about Tribes, native, of Borneo: classification of; intermingling of; friendly relations among; characteristics and capabilities of; the Bahau; Basap; Bato-Pola; Bukats; Bukits; Busang; Duhoi; Ibans; Katingans, Upper and Lower; Kayans; Kenyahs; Long-Glats; Mehalats; Murungs; Muruts; Oma-Lokvi; Oma-Palo; Oma-Sulings; Oma-Tapi; Oma-Tepe; Orang Bahau; Ot-Danums; Penihings; Penyahbongs; Punans; Saputans; Siangs; Tamoans Triennial feast, the great; the purpose of; building of place of worship; food regulations at; service imparting health and strength at; dance of blians at; dance of the people; killing and preparation of pigs for; the banquet; practical joking at; rice-throwing at; wrestling; march of blians; end of Trumpets, as accompaniment to singing Trunk, steel Trustworthiness of natives Truthfulness of natives Tuak. _See_ Brandy Tuan Allah Tuba-fishing Tumbang Djuloi, village of Tumbang Mantike, iron ore at Tumbang Marowei, village of; return to; data from, concerning Murungs Tumingki, village of Turtle; supposed to be poisonous Twins, among children of the Dayaks _Two Orphans, The_, folk-lore tale Ugga River, the Uljee, J.A. Ulu-Ots, supposed to be cannibals; habitats of; believed to have tails and to sleep in trees; number and appearance of; inveterate head-hunters; collective name for several tribes Ulung Ela, the fatherless boy Ulung Tiung, the motherless boy Umbrellas, carried by Malays; useful for travel in Borneo Upper Kahayan River, the, folk-lore from Vaccinateur, the Vancouver, arrival at Van Dijl, Lieutenant J. _Varanus,_ Vegetables, used in cure of diseases; stew of Vegetation in the jungle, change in denseness of; rapid growth of Vendetta among the Katingans Vergouwen, J.C. Villages, custom of changing location of Voices, shrill Von Luschan colour scale Wages, paid to boatmen Wah-wah (man-like ape); traits of; human behaviour of; knife handles made from engraved bones of; superstition concerning Walking, native manner of Wallace, A.R., quoted, on the Boro Budur; his opinion of the durian; his _Malay Archipelago_ quoted War-dance War, European Watch-tower, a Water, boiling of drinking, essential in tropics; temperature of bathing, in tropics; salt, from rocks; pool of salt Water-buffaloes; sacrifice of; herd of, at Batokelau; at times an antoh Water-plant Wealth of the Dayaks Weapons: the klevang; the parang; the spear; the sumpitan; carried by women Wearing apparel: aboriginal, added to collection; the Dayak; of Katingan women; of Kenyah women; of Penyahbongs; mourning garments Weather, variety in, in the tropics Weaving, by the Bugis; material for clothing; rattan mats Wedding, festival; at Tumbang Marowei. See also Marriage customs _When Husband and Wife are Antohs,_ folklore tale Widows, rules observed by Wild men of Borneo (the Ulu-Ots) Wind, lack of, in the tropics; in cave of Kong Beng; at Kuala Braui; calling the; on Lake Sembulo Wives, number permitted by various tribes; price paid for; disloyal Women: coaling of steamers by Japanese; song of the Kayan; manners of; few children of Dayak; the Malay; dress of; mourning garments of; frequent bathing of; photographing; cigarette smoking by; dancing of; blians; folk-lore tales sung by; restrictions imposed on; head ornament of; weapons carried by; occupations of; lot of, not an unhappy one; part taken by, on hunting trips; rules observed by widows; a visit from, at bathing time; face paint used by Malay; regarded as more alert than men; hair-dressing of; a Malay boatman's wife; antohs which cause injury to; polyandry among Duhoi; customs regarding childbirth; of the Bukats; of the Bukits; the Duhoi; Kayan; Katingan; of the Kenyahs; Long-Glat; of the Murungs; Oma-Suling; Penihing; Penyahbong; Punan; Saputan _Wonderful Tree, The_, folk-lore tale Wong Su, cook Woodcraftsmen, Dayaks able Wrestling, in the water; at great triennial feast Wristlets Year, the Katingan Yokohama, the bay of [Illustration (Map): THE DUTCH INDIES AND SURROUNDING COUNTRIES] [Illustration (Map): BORNEO (DOTTED SURFACE) AS COMPARED IN SIZE WITH THE BRITISH ISLES (WHITE) (After Wallace)] SAMPLES OF DAYAK TATUING The figure of a man represents a Lower Katingan, particularly a kapala at Tewang Rongkang, the only one I saw with tatu marks on the knees. These depict a fish of ancient times. On each thigh is the representation of a dog or possibly the nagah with a dog's head. The central tatu design represents a tree, the trunk of which rises from the navel; adjoining it above are two great oval designs stretching across the chest and depicting the wings of a fowl. The tree which is called garing, is a fabulous one that cannot be killed. This same pattern may be observed on the mats of the Kayans. Down the arms and over the shoulders are similar designs representing leaves of the areca palm. The border around the wrist is a representation of a bird called susulit. The cross on the hand represents the beak of this bird; the starlike figure is the eye of the hornbill. The globular tatu mark on the calf of the leg (h) is peculiar to Katingans, Ot-Danums, and other tribes. The design below, representing a certain fruit, was seen on a Katingan. The seven tatu marks to the right (a, b, c, d, e, f, g) represent the durian in various phases. The upper (a) to the left is a ripe durian, a design often observed in the tribes, one on each shoulder of a man. The next three (b, c, d) are young fruit, often seen one above each nipple. The next figure (e), usually observed on the upper arm (in front) represents 14 durians. Above the nails of the tatued hand of a Penihing woman (f) are seen similar triangular marks, while across it runs a border representing the protuberances of the fruit. The latter designs are also found on the foot (g) of the same individual. The cross lines over fingers and toes represent banana leaves. [Illustration: SAMPLES OF DAYAK TATUING: Tatuing of Lower Katingan a. Bukit b. Bukit c. Bukit d. Saputan e. Long-Glat f, g. Hand and foot of Penihing woman, Durian designs h. The globular tatu mark]