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Title: Life in the forests of the Far East (Vol. 2 of 2)
Author: St. John, Spenser, Sir
Language: English
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*** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Life in the forests of the Far East (Vol. 2 of 2)" ***
EAST (VOL. 2 OF 2) ***
LIFE IN THE FORESTS
OF
THE FAR EAST.
[Illustration:
F. Jones, lith.
Published by Smith, Elder & C^{o.} 65 Cornhill, London
Day & Son, Lith^{rs} to the Queen
SHOOTING THE CATARACT--LIMBANG RIVER.]
LIFE IN THE FORESTS
OF
THE FAR EAST.
BY
SPENSER ST. JOHN, F.R.G.S., F.E.S.,
FORMERLY H.M.’S CONSUL-GENERAL IN THE GREAT ISLAND OF BORNEO,
AND NOW
H.M.’s CHARGÉ D’AFFAIRES TO THE REPUBLIC OF HAYTI.
_WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS._
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
SMITH, ELDER AND CO., 65, CORNHILL.
M.DCCC.LXII.
[_The right of Translation is reserved._]
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
EXPEDITIONS TO EXPLORE THE INTERIOR TO THE
SOUTH AND SOUTH-EAST OF THE CAPITAL.
PAGE
Preliminary Expeditions--The Limbang River--Stories connected
with it--The Madalam--River flowing under a Pile of
Rocks--Caverns--Batu Rikan--The River issuing from under the
Mountain of Molu--Ascend the Precipices--No Water--Long
Roots--No Soil--Second Expedition--A Flood--Dangerous
Position--Wakeful Night--Beautiful Flowers--Palms and
Rhododendrons--Old Kayan Encampment--Detached Rocks--Ascent of
Molu--Two new Species of Nepenthes--Difficult Climbing--New
Rhododendrons--Stopped by a Precipice--Sharp-edged
Rocks--Descent--Limestone Rock--Cave--Heavy Rain--Swollen
River--Quick Return--Prepare for a distant Expedition--Alarm
of the Brunean Government--Warnings--Preparations--Boats--My
Headman, Musa--A Travelled Dayak--Stories of
Molu--Weapons--Merchandise 1
CHAPTER II.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL.
Start--Discovery of Bones and ancient Ornaments--At the Site
of the Old City--At the Stone Fort--At Sarawak--The Trusan, or
connecting Passage--Apathy of the Government and
People--Sago--Method of preparing it for the Market--The
Limbang River--The Inhabitants--Winding Stream--The Orang Kaya
Upit of Kruei--Sampirs--Gadong Hill--Scenery--Molu--The Raman
Palm--Delays--Cholera--Orang Kaya Napur--Panglima Prang--The
Weather--State of the River--Origin of the Ponds--Native
Geographical Information--The Upper Country--Cataract--Enchanted
Mountain--Native Travelling--Dreams and Omen Birds--Religion of
Pakatans--Cause of Head-hunting--The Wild Boar--Trouble in
procuring Guides--Pengkalan Tarap--Desolation of the
Country--Causes of it--Selling Children--Kayan Barbarity--Chinese
at Batang Parak--Site of Burnt Villages--Posts of Houses--Two
kinds of Sago Palm--Their Growth--Kayan Encampment--Cultivation--The
River--Rocks--Salt Springs--Native Explanation--Anecdote--Time to
halt--Birds--Rare, except in certain
Districts--Monkeys--Alligators--The Man-eater--A Challenge
accepted--Disappearance of the Siol Alligator--Combat with two
in a Cave--Method of Capturing them in Siam--Laying Eggs in the
Jungle--Ducks and Drakes--Malay Cookery--Very tasty--Blachang--How
to make a Curry--Anecdotes of Bornean Rule--Attack on the Limpasong
Village--Insurrection of the Aborigines--Forced Trade--Qualities
necessary in a Malay Ruler--The great Mountain of
Tilong--Discomfort of possessing a large Diamond--Diamonds found
in Borneo 16
CHAPTER III.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Continued_.
Wet Morning--Wild Cattle--A Night Adventure--View of Molu
Mountain--A Pebbly Flat--Moose Deer--Our Tents--Kayan--Their
Attack--Desolation--Course they pursue to invade these
Districts--Difficulties--Attack the Lepuasing Muruts--Fearful
Retaliation--Attacks on the Villages of the Lower
Limbang--Makota’s Treachery--His Cupidity--Surprise of Balat
Ikan--Alarm Signal--Advance--Fresh Kayan
Marks--Inundations--Unskilful Sportsmen--Difficult
Rapids--The Sertab Hills--Enter the Limestone District--A New
Kayan Hut--High Pork--Effect of Pebbles on the Rock--Agreeable
Evening--Omen Birds--Japer’s Method of easing a sore Heart--The
Punan Tribe--The Spy--The Alligator Omen--The Bird Omen--Attack
the Village--Poisoned Arrows--Destruction of a Tribe--Effect of
such Forays on the Country--The Ghosts on the Tapang
Tree--Numerous Bees’ Nests--Sand Flies--Seribas Omen Bird--The
Salindong--Kayan Resting-place--Traces of Captives
taken--Precautions--Difficulties increase--Limestone
Country--Severe Toil--Accidents avoided--Hauling the
Boats--River narrows--A Fresh--Towing-ropes--Story of the Death
of Orang Kaya Apo--Enter the Sandstone District
again--Broader River--Snakes on Trees--The same Colour as the
Boughs and Foliage--Biawaks or Guanas--A large One--Their
Ways--The Fowls and the Cobra--Heavy Day’s Work--Future
Plans--Two Ways of reaching Adang--The flying Foxes--Huge
Frog--The Madihit--Leave our Boats--Handsome Trees--Appearance
of the Country--Sand Flies--Preparations for the Overland
Journey--Division of Food--Our famous Hunters--A Cache--The
Chinese on the Madihit 49
CHAPTER IV.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Continued_.
Start on the Land Journey--Our Course--Ascend the Rawan
Torrent--Attacked by Hornets--Native Remedy--Severe Effect of
Sting--Disturbed by Ants--Japer left behind--Fresh Traces of
Strangers in the Forest--Appearance of the Country--Water Snake
killed--Our Adventure with One--The Swimming Cobra--Romantic
but timely Meeting--Story of Pangeran Mumein and the Murut
Concubine--Malay Revenge--Punishment of an Offender--Cause of
the Borneans being converted to Mahomedanism--Capturing the
Daughter of Johore--Independent Position of the Pablat
Borneans--Reach the Wax-seekers’ Hut--Flesh of the Wild
Boar--The Adang Muruts--Their Sumpitans--The Poison on the
Arrows--Melted in hot Water--Weapons purchased, not made by
them--Dress of the Muruts--Japer rejoins us--Continue our
Journey with new Guide--Method of catching Fish--Effect of
Loss of Blood by Leeches--Extraordinary Insect--The Freshwater
Turtle--Its Description--Curious Fly--Poisoning the
River--Getting short of Provisions--Galton’s Method of
dividing Food--Adopt it--Improvidence of the Malays--Cry
of the Wahwah--Rejoin the Limbang--Omen Bird--Prepare for
Enemies--Quarrel among the Guides--Divide the Party--Hard
Walking--The Otter--A Fight with my Dogs--Still beyond the
Mountain--Find good Huts--The Stragglers--The last of the
Food--Ascend the Mountains--Exhaustion of the Guides--The
Remains of the Ham--Its Effects--Reach the Summit--Descend to
the Farms--Meet the Adang Muruts--Hearty
“Welcome--Names--Recent History of these Villagers--Kayan
Attacks--Driven from the Limbang--The Geography of the
Country--The Houses--Cold, and Fire-places--Arrival of my
Followers--Sir James Brooke--The Friend of the
Aborigines--His Fame had preceded me--How Reports spread--The
Tigers’ Cave--Curious Story 80
CHAPTER V.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Continued_.
Women’s Ornaments--Adorning in Public--Confidence shown
by a young Girl--Geography--Leech Bites--Tapioca--The
Manipa Stream--The False and True Brayong--Nothing
but Rice to be purchased--Wild Raspberries--Good Shots--The
Rifle Carbine--Death of a Kite--Picking a Cocoa-nut--Curious
Statement--A Village of Runaways--Proposed Slave
Hunt--Disappointment--Appearance of the Women--Old Look of the
Children--Devoid of Drapery--Preparing the Plantations--No
Goods for Sale--Edible Bird’s-nest Cave--Difficulties in
penetrating farther--Determine to return--Climate--New
Route--Custom in Drinking similar to the Chinese--Anecdote of
Irish Labourers--Change of Plans--Fashion of wearing Brass
Wire--Start on a Tour among the Villages--The Burning
Path--Village of Purté--Refreshing Drink--The Upper
Trusan--Distant Ranges--Inviting and receiving
Invitations--Fatal Midnight Revel--Tabari’s Village--Alarm
of Orang Kaya Upit--Suspension Bridge--Inhabitants--Scheme
of the Adangs to return to their old Districts--Deers’
Horns--Mourning--Difficult Walking--The Tiger’s Leap--Meet Si
Puntara--No Real Enemies--Murud--The Gura Peak--The Main
Muruts--Salt as well as Slave Dealers--Bearskin Jacket--White
Marble--Uncertainty whence procured--Leaden
Earrings--Unbecoming Custom--Lofty Mountains--Lawi
Cloud-hidden--Muruts busy Farming--Two Harvests a
Year--Agricultural Produce plentiful--Obtain a Goat--Dress of
the Men--Bead Petticoats--Custom of burying on the Tops of
the Lofty Hills--Desecration of Graves--Jars--Discovery of one
in Brunei--Similar Millanau Customs 109
CHAPTER VI.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Continued_.
Commence the return Journey--Kayan Embassy--Indian
Corn--Confidence of the People--Ophthalmia--Old
Jar--Gratitude rarely shown--Anecdote--Warning to Amateur
Doctors--Bezoar Stones--Arrangements at Si Lopong’s--A
Nightcap--Desertion of our Guides--Murut Music--Start
for the Adang--Warned of Difficulties--Abundance of
Rice--Cross the Adang Mountains--Active Girls--The
Anœctochilus--Attack of Fever--Arrangements in case of
its continuance--Loss of Chamber to Revolver--Reach
the Adang--Legend--Construct four Rafts--Pleasant
Movement--Trying Position of one of the Men--The first
Rapid passed--Difficulties at the second--Bold Swimmer--A
Whirlpool--Danger of Drowning--Our Raft tested--Abandoned--The
rest wrecked--Pass the Umur--Reach the Limbang--Construct
fresh Rafts--Uneasy Anticipations--Heavy Fresh--Fine Specimen
of a Raft--Push off--Dangers and Troubles--The Rafts
ungovernable--The Roaring of Waters--Overhanging Cliffs--The
Cataract--Awe of the Men--Shoot the Cataract--Narrow Escape--Its
Height--The Men recover their Voice--Ineffectual Attempts
to stop the Raft--Caught in a Whirlpool--Safety--Arrival
of the other Rafts--Dangers ahead--Walk--Abandon the
Rafts--State of Provisions--Nearly all consumed--Ahtan’s
Secret Store--Rocks--Advance over the Kalio Hills--Sparing
the Food--Exhausting climbing--“Jog on”--Feed on the Cabbages
of the Bengkala Palm--Almost a Mutiny--Facing the
Difficulty--Reach the Summit of the Paya Paya, or “very
difficult” Hills--Night on the Summit--Our Tent--The last
Fowl--Molu--The greatest Difficulties passed--Country more
open--Follow the Banks of the River--Distress of the
Men--Improvidence--Curious Sounds in the old Forests--Cry of
the Argus Pheasant--Of the Jelatuk--Rending of a Mighty
Tree--Danger from Decaying Trees--Cock-fights among the Argus
Pheasants 131
CHAPTER VII.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Concluded_.
Stopped for a Day--Five Start for Provisions--The Sick Men
left behind join us--No Shoes--Weakness from want of
Food--Leeches--Stop again--Collect Food--Anecdote of Female
Orang Utan and Murut--Again construct Rafts--Present of a Cup
full of Rice--Start on the Rafts--Abandon them--A Bear--The
River--Immense Pebbly Flats--Long Walks--Traces of the Advance
Party--Wild Fruit--Sour Oranges--Recognize a Hill--Fruit of
the Jintawan, or India-rubber Plant--Find Remains of
Bees’-nest--The British Flag--Reach the Madihit--Bad Conduct
of the Advance Party--Food nearly all consumed--An unfeeling
Father--Proposed Punishment--Ravages of the Bears--Anecdote
of Ahtan--Return in the Boats--The Herd of Wild Cattle--Wound
a Bull, but do not get it--A slight Supper--Start in a
Sampir--Ahtan ill--The last of the Food--News from
Brunei--Reach the Town--Arrival of the rest of the
Party--Bornean travelling--Measure Distance by Fatigue--Slow
Progress necessary--Active Murut--Average Rate of
Advance--Great Mistakes made in the Estimates of
Distance--Instances--Mr. Motley’s Account of his advance up the
Limbang--Mr. De Crespigny’s Mistakein the Latitude of the River
Damit and Position of the Mountain of Molu--Remarks on the
Map--Causes of the continued Health of my Followers--The
Tents--Mistake in trusting to Native Huts--Native Geographical
Information tested--Found correct--Arrival of the Orang Kaya
Upit--Tragical Death of Pangeran Mokata, the Shabandar--Two
Years after--Sad Fate of a Party of Adang Muruts--Murder by
Orang Kaya Gomba--Head-hunting--Heads valued, but none
seen--Incident of meeting Head-hunters--No treacherous
Designs--Inefficient Government--Desecration of the
Graveyards--Chinese Secret Societies, or Hués--Ahtan joins
one--Robbery of the Iron Chest from the Consulate--The Sultan’s
Method of extorting a Confession--Obstinacy of Ahtan--Officers
of the Secret Society--Chest restored--Prisoners released--The
Hué broken up--Treatment of Prisoners--Musa and the
Priest--Threats--Personal Regard for some of my Followers 154
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SULU ARCHIPELAGO.
FIRST VISIT.
Picturesque Islands--Balambañgan--An old English
Settlement--Large Monkeys--Optical Illusions--Flights of
Birds--The Curlew--The way we shot them in
Sarawak--Game--Banguey--Mali Wali--Cleared Hills--Fine
Water--Sweet-smelling Jasmine--Cagayan Sulu--Intercourse with
the Inhabitants--Appearance of the Country--Lovely
Scenery--Market--Inhabitants--Insolent Traders--The Crater
Harbour--Wall of Evergreen--Inner Lake--Climb the
Cliff--Scenery--Alligators numerous--Sulu--Appearance
from the Ship--Sugh, the Capital--Mr. Wyndham--The
Watering-place--Suspicious Natives--Fugitives from
Balignini--Reports--A Market--The Mountaineers civil--Walk
to the Palace--The Stockades--Armed Crowd--Audience
Hall--Absurd Reports--The Sultan and his
Nobles--Dress--Politeness of the Sultan--Return to the
Ship--Datu Daniel--The Racecourse--Effect of Dutch
Shot--Tulyan Bay--Alarm of Villagers--Sulu
Government--Laws--Feuds--The Mahomedan and the
Pork--Population--Fighting-men--Slave Market--Dignified
carriage of the Nobles--Dress--The Balignini--Dutch
Attack--Appearance of the Country--Good position of
Island--Tulyan--Basilan--Numerous Islets--Samboañgan --Spanish
Convict Settlement--Description of
Country--Fort--Town--Shops--The Church--The Men--The Women--The
Corner Shop--A Ball--Dancing difficult--Waltzes--Supplies
at Saraboañgan--A lonely Grave 178
CHAPTER IX.
THE SULU ISLANDS.
SECOND VISIT.
Reach Sugh--Mr. Wyndham comes on board--His News--Commercial
Rivalry--The Stockades--Visit the Audience Hall--Appearance
of the Sultan--Visit Datu Daniel’s Stockaded House--Guns--Datu
Daniel--Appearance of the principal Chamber--The
Bed--Boxes--Property--General look of
Discomfort--Spittoons--Dismounted Iron Guns--Taken from the
English--Excitement in the Town--Hereditary Hatred of the Sulus
to the Spaniards--Their Treaty with Spain--Sandakan
Bay--Supplies--Variegated Wood--Salute--English popular--An
Exception--Death of a Sulu Lady from Grief--The Rumah
Bechara--A Ship taken--Interview with the Sultan--Rope--Character
of Datus--The Balignini--Capture an English Ship--Captives
brought to Sulu--Result of the Action of the Nemesis--The
Lanuns--At Magindanau and Cape Unsang--A narrow Escape--Mate to
Lord Cochrane--Capture of the _Maria Frederica_--Cold-blooded
Murder of the Captain--Jilolo Prahus--Their Rencontre with Sir
Edward Belcher--Pirates off the Arru Group--Sulu
Justice--Appearance of the People--Attack on the Spanish
Gunboats--Public Audience with the Sultan--Private Visit to
the House of his Bride--The Women--Opium-smoking--Invitation
to revisit Sulu--The Spanish Gunboats--Samboañgan--The Corner
Shop--Sunday’s Amusements--Appearance of the
Neighbourhood--A Breakfast in the Country--Long Walks--People
comfortable--Story of the Loss and Re-capture of
the _Dolphin_--The _Dolphin_ sails for Maludu
Bay--Quarrels--Surprised--Death of Mr. Burns and the
Captain--Murder of a Woman--Injury to Trade--Datu Badrudin’s
Monopolies--The Tungku Pirates--Visit the chief Town
of Maludu--Sherif Hasin’s Account of the Surprise of the
_Dolphin_--The Re-capture of the Vessel by Sherif
Yasin--Arrival at Benggaya--_Dolphin_ delivered up--Visit the
Village of Sherif Yasin--His Appearance--His Account of the
Re-capture--His Position--Smoking over Powder--Delivery of the
Cargo--Return to the Ship--Argus Pheasants--Meet with Baju
Boats--Pearl Fishers--Retaliation--Fishing for Pearls--Mr.
Edwardes’ Pearl--Story of the Datu, and his great good
Fortune--The Mermaid Pearl--Present State of Piracy on the
North-West Coast--Cruise of the Balignini in 1861--Ransom of
Inchi Ngah--Names of present Haunts of the Balignini--A
Mangrove Swamp--Present System of Balignini--Escape of a
Native--The Lanuns--A Dayak’s Experience--A Slave
Mart--Spanish Attack on Sugh--Severe Fight--Bravery of the
Sulus--Capture of the Town--The Sulu Government retire to the
Hills, and refuse to submit--A Teak Forest burnt--No Teak in
Borneo--Elephants extinct in Sulu 200
CHAPTER X.
THE KINGDOM OF BORNEO PROPER.
Its Nominal Extent--Its Government--The Sultan--The
Viziers--The Shabandar--The inferior Officers--Their
Influence--“The Abode of Peace”--Poverty-stricken
Gentlemen--Possessions of the Nobles--The Country parcelled
out among them--Distant Dependencies becoming
independent--Oppression of the surrounding
Districts--Divisions among the Nobles--Poverty of the
Nobles--Population of Brunei--System of Plunder--Sale of
Children--Handsome Brass Guns--Their Fate--No Justice--Crime
nominally punished--No Possibility of
Improvement--Anecdotes--System of Local Self-government--The
Parishes--Their Names, and the Occupation of their
Inhabitants--Fishing--Shell Heaps--Asylum--Treatment of a Slave
Girl--Political Parties--Religious Schism--An attempted
Explanation--Followers of each Party--Difference of Length of
Fast Month--Visiting the Graves of Ancestors--A pretty
Custom--Search after Excitement--Story Tellers--Conjurors--Their
Arts--Practice of Abortion--The Egg-cooking Trick--The Sultan’s
Palace--Its Inhabitants--His Wife and his Concubines--Their
Treatment--Bold Lovers--Anecdote--Tragical Termination--The
Women deceive their Lords--The Inverted Language--Education
neglected--Sight of a Harim--Mutual Disappointment--Rajah’s
pleasant Companions--Their Customs--Tenacious of Rank--Decay of
Brunei--Exactions suffered by the Aborigines--The
Kadayans--Tradition--Hill Men united--Commotion--Kadayans have
great Influence--Lovely Country--Kadayans removed to
Labuan--Short Description of that Colony--Excellent
Position--Coal--Telegraphic Communication--Good
Effect of our Colony--Trade
Increasing--Pepper--Exports--Cotton--Fine Jungle--Method
of Collecting the Camphor and the Gamboge in
Siam--The Coal-fields--Revenue of the Sultan--Brunei
Government no Power--Crime unpunished--A Bold Thief--Makota
and the Fire--Nominal Punishments--Cutting off the Hand--The
Fall of Ashes--Singing Fish--Curious Method of Catching
Prawns--Tuba Fishing--Superstition--Money--Coinage of
the Capital--Cloth--Iron--Gun-metal--Good Manufactures
of Brass Ordnance--A 12-pounder--Similarity of Customs--The
Sultan--The Heir to his Subjects--Makota and his Gold 244
CHAPTER XI.
SARAWAK AND ITS DEPENDENCIES.
First Visit--Appearance of the Country--Scenery--Lovely
Isles--Turtle--Method of securing their Eggs--Their
Enemies--Fish--The Dugong--Method of capturing them--Graves
of Englishmen at Po Point--First Evening in Borneo--A Welcome
to the Rajah--Boats--Salute and Manning Yards--The Muaratabas
Entrance--The River--The Town of Kuching--Sunset--Arrival--A
noisy Procession--Extent of Sarawak--A well-watered Country--The
Rejang--Extent of fertile Soil adapted to Sugar--Its
Inhabitants--Different Races and Tribes--Population--Kuching,
the Capital--Increase--Trade--Sago Districts--Cotton--Seed sent
by the Cotton Supply Association--Imported Labour
required--Increased Production--Inferior Cultivation--Soil
adapted to most Tropical Productions--Water
Communication--Minerals--Coal, Antimony, and Gold--Indications
of other Minerals--Former Condition of the Country--Difficulties
of Management--Forced Trade--Comfortable Position of the
Dayaks--Influence of New System on the Malays--Distant
Voyages--Remarkable Honesty--Anecdote--System of
Government--An unteachable Chief--Sons of Patinggi Ali--Their
good Conduct--Effect of associating the Natives in the
Government--The System introduced into all the
Dependencies--Effect of Sir James Brooke’s
Government--Anecdote of an old Chief--Gradual
Developments--Necessity for Support--The Chinese an Industrious
and Saving Nation--Soundness in the System of
Government--England with a Chinese Colony--Future of
Borneo--Chinese amalgamate with Native Population--Female
Emigration from China--Administration of Justice--The Sarawak
Courts--Character of the Malays 280
CHAPTER XII.
THE CHINESE IN BORNEO.
Intercourse between China and the Northern Part of
Borneo--References to the Chinese--Names of Places and
Rivers--Sites of Gardens and Houses--One of the original
Settlers--The Sultan’s Recollections--Chinese numerous in his
Youth--Reasons for their Disappearing--Anecdote of a Murut
Chief--Aborigines speaking Chinese--Mixed Breed--Good
Husbands--Chinese at Batang Parak--At Madihit--Pepper
Planters--Origin of the Borneans--Chinese Features observed
also among the Aborigines--Careful Agriculture--A remnant of
Chinese Teaching--Traditions of a Chinese Kingdom--Effect of
Treaty with Brunei--Unsuccessful attempt to revive Pepper
Planting--Chinese scattering on the North-west coast--A Spark
of Enlightenment--Attempt to prevent Intercourse between the
Chinese and Aborigines--Decay of Junk Trade--Cochin
Chinese--Conduct of the Chinese--Papar--Anecdote--Fatal result
of Insulting a Woman--Skirmish--Misrepresented in
Labuan--Question of British Protection to the Chinese--Their
Insolence--Anecdote--Unpleasant Position--A Check--Difficulty
of obtaining Information--Cause of former Disputes--Insurrection
of the Chinese of Brunei--Sarawak--Early efforts of the Chinese
to establish themselves there--Lawless Malays--A
Murder--Retaliation--Defeat of the Chinese--Arrival of Sir
James Brooke--Mixed Breed in Sambas--Form Self-governing
Communities--Defeat of the Dutch Forces--Subjugation of the
Chinese--The Pamangkat Agriculturists--Flight into
Sarawak--Change in the appearance of the Country--Mission
School--Visit the Interior--Kunsis, or Gold Companies--Appearance
of the Country--Method of Gold-working--The Reservoir--The
Ditch--The Sluice--Wasteful method of working--Abundance of
Gold--Impetus--Failure of first Agricultural Schemes--A great
Flood--Troublesome Gold-workers--Successful Scheme--Disturbance
in Sambas--Flight of Chinese--Illiberal Regulation--Tour
through the Chinese Settlements--Agriculture--Siniawan--Chinese
Workings--Hot Spring--Gold at Piat in Quartz--Antimony
Works--Extensive Reservoirs--Arrival of Chinese from
Sambas--Denial by the Kunsi--Hard Work at the Gold
Diggings--Scenery--Path to Sambas--Chinese Station--Numbers
of the Chinese before the Insurrection 308
CHAPTER XIII.
THE CHINESE INSURRECTION.
Secret Societies--Extensive Intercourse--Smuggling--The
Gold Company Fined--Punishment of Three of its
Members--Arrogance of the Kunsi--A Police Case--Real Causes
of the insurrection--An Emissary from the Tien Ti Secret
Society--Reported Encouragement given by the Sultan of
Sambas--Sambas Nobles speak Chinese--Their Nurses--The Nobles
Conspiring--An Emissary arrives in Brunei--Proposal--Knowledge
of the Intended Insurrection--Proposed Attack on the
Consulate--The Tumanggong’s Threat--The Emissary before the
Court--Letter from the Tien Ti Hué--Rumours of Intended
Insurrection--Preparations and Inquiries--Commencement of the
Revolt--Useless Warnings--Surprise of the Government House--
Danger of the Rajah--Cowardice of the Chinese--Escape--Swims
the River--Death of Mr. Nicholets--Attacks on the other
Houses--On the Stockade--Gallant Conduct of Mr. Crymble and the
Malay Fortmen--Warm Reception of the Rebels--Death of a
Madman--A Bravo Corporal--Escape of Mr. Crymble--His last
Blow--Fortmen again behave well--Confusion in the Town--Peaceful
Assurances--Attempt to organize a
Defence--Panic-striken--Departure--Conduct of the People--Next
Morning--Killed and Wounded--The Chinese in Power--The
Court-house--A Check to Joy--Oath of Fidelity--Courage Shown by
Abang Patah--A Blow struck--Second Descent of the
Chinese--A Boat Action--Gallant Attack--Deaths--Anecdote--The
Second Retreat--The Town in Flames--The Steamer--The Capital
recovered--Pursuit of the Chinese--They retire to the
Interior--Attacks of the Land Dayaks--Foray of the
Chinese--Their Fort taken by the Datu
Bandhar--Pursuit--Disorderly Retreat--Critical Position--Brave
Girls--Pass the Frontier--The Men of the Kunsi--A
Quarrel--Stripped of Plunder--Results of the Insurrection--Forces
at the Disposal of the Sarawak Government--Conduct of the
People--Disastrous to the Chinese--New System--Arrival of Armed
Chinese from Sambas--Dutch and English Assistance--Revisit
Sarawak--Change--Conduct of the Rajah--Its Effect on the
People--Secret Society at Labuan--Dangers from the Secret
Societies and their Defenders--Curious Incident--Thoughtful
Care of the Rajah 336
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MISSIONS: ROMAN CATHOLIC AND PROTESTANT.
Arrival of the Roman Catholic Mission in Labuan--Signor
Cuarteron its Head--Curious Reports--His real History--Finding
the Treasure--Turns Priest--Ostensible Object of the
Mission--Not attempted--Ease with which Captives could
escape--No Inclination to do so--Turned Mahomedans--Return of
Signor Cuarteron--Courtesy of the Brunei Government--Intentions
of the Italian Priest--Model Village--The Italian Priests--The
Churches--Old Battery--Regret at the Withdrawal of the Roman
Catholic Mission--Protestant Mission at Sarawak--Present
Condition--Comparative Failure--Partial Success at Lingga
and Lundu--Mr. Chalmers and the Land Dayaks--Causes of his
Influence--Mistake in establishing the Mission at Kuching--The
Reasons--Objectionable Position for Schools--Proper Position
for the Mission--Suitable Spots--Waste of Funds in Boats and
Plantations--Deplorable Secession of Missionaries--Reasons to
account for it--Present Management faulty--Mr. Gomez in
Lundu--Christian Dayaks warn the Government--Missionaries
always welcome in Sarawak--Important political effect--The
Church should be among the Dayaks--Suitable Men for
Missionaries--What the Head of a Mission should be--What he
too often is, and should not be--Five Recommendations to
increase Efficiency--Unoccupied Room for a great Increase of
the Number of Missionaries--Method of distributing
them--Personal Character--Dayaks an interesting Race--A Tribe
half Mahomedans half Pagans--Use of eating Pork--Districts
unoccupied--Position of the Missionary in Sarawak--The
Bornean Mission an important one 365
APPENDICES.
APPENDIX A.--Dayak Languages. Sambas to Batang Lupar 383
„ B.--Ditto. Batang Lupar to Rejang 392
„ C.--Languages of Tribes between the Rejang and
the Baram 399
„ D.--Languages of Northern Borneo 407
„ E.--Lanun Language 417
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. II.
I. Shooting the Cataract.--Limbang River _Frontispiece_
II. The Trunan issuing from the Batu Barit
Mountain _To face page_ 3
III. Hauling past the Rapids „ 70
IV. Murut Bridge.--Tabari’s Village „ 123
V. Government House, Sarawak „ 280
VI. Lundu Church „ 370
MAP.
I. Map of the Limbang and Baram Rivers _To face page_ 1
[Illustration]
LIFE IN THE
FORESTS OF THE FAR EAST.
CHAPTER I.
EXPEDITIONS TO EXPLORE THE INTERIOR TO THE
SOUTH AND SOUTH-EAST OF THE CAPITAL.
Preliminary Expeditions--The Limbang River--Stories
connected with it--The Madalam--River flowing under a Pile
of Rocks--Caverns--Batu Rikan--The River issuing from under
the Mountain of Molu--Ascend the Precipices--No Water--Long
Roots--No Soil--Second Expedition--A Flood--Dangerous
Position--Wakeful Night--Beautiful Flowers--Palms and
Rhododendrons--Old Kayan Encampment--Detached Rocks--Ascent of
Molu--Two new Species of Nepenthes--Difficult Climbing--New
Rhododendrons--Stopped by a Precipice--Sharp-edged
Rocks--Descent--Limestone Rock--Cave--Heavy Rain--Swollen
River--Quick Return--Prepare for a distant Expedition--Alarm
of the Brunean Government--Warnings--Preparations--Boats--My
Headman Musa--A Travelled Dayak--Stories of
Molu--Weapons--Merchandise.
In December, 1856, I made a short excursion up the Limbang River,
and the wonders there told of its far interior strongly excited my
curiosity. The natives were full of stories of the river forcing its
way for miles under huge masses of rock, which formed a natural tunnel,
called by the Malays “Batu berkejang,” or stone-roofed; of a cataract
formed by the whole river falling over a ledge of rocks for a depth
of nine fathoms; of the smooth water beyond this which stretched for
a seven days’ journey, flowing gently through a vast table-land; of
the tame goats without masters which thronged this region--but I could
find no one who had seen any of these wonders--in fact, few Malays had
passed Suñgei Damit, a river about three days’ journey from the capital.
In the following September I went with a small party up the right-hand
branch of the river, the Madalam, to endeavour to reach the lofty
mountain of Molu, and found that one of the stories told by the natives
had some foundation. We followed the Madalam till we reached the Trunan
on the eighth day, up which we pushed, thinking it led to the base of
the highest peak of Molu. We soon came upon limestone rock, and after a
few miles were suddenly stopped by the river, I may say, disappearing.
We found a rocky eminence before us, its sharp angles concealed by
ferns and climbing plants falling in festoons around, and a luxuriant
vegetation of trees, whose bark was coated with mosses, orchids, and
other epiphytal plants. There was an arched cavern into which we pushed
our boats; at first we failed to find the inlet through which the
stream entered, but at last, looking down into the clear water, we saw
two huge holes below--the passages from whence the river came. We went
round to the southern side of the rock, and there we found the river
coming purling along to this lofty wood-crowned mass of limestone, and
then entering a spacious hall it was lost, descending, as it were,
to the passages before mentioned. There were various chambers with
water floors, to the surface of which fine fish occasionally arose.
This place is called Batu Rikan.
[Illustration:
T. Picken, lith.
Published by Smith, Elder & C^o. 65, Cornhill, London.
Day & Son, Lith^{rs}. to the Queen.
THE TRUNAN ISSUING FROM BATU BARIT MOUNTAIN.]
We stayed here a night, during which it rained heavily, making the
stream that yesterday but washed our ancles, swell so that it was
impossible to cross it. We therefore kept along the right bank, till
we reached the spot where the whole river issued from the face of the
precipice; it was a fine sight, this body of water running impetuously
from this natural tunnel. On either side lofty trees arose, and above
the precipice the green verdure spread in masses.
Our Bisayan guide, the Orang Kaya Panglima Prang, of the village of
Blimbing, told us that during fine weather, we could penetrate a long
distance under the mountain, though few had ever ventured to do so, on
account of the very sudden way in which the water rises. Finding we
could not cross the stream near the mountain, we skirted the precipice,
which the Bisayas told us it was impossible to climb; but I determined
on making the attempt, not crediting the truth of one of their
objections that we should find no water on the mountain after the heavy
rain which fell the previous night.
I led the way up the rock by a most difficult ascent, and after
climbing these perpendicular precipices by means of the roots of
trees, at length reached easier ground, but found the whole mountain
a mass of honeycombed limestone rock, with trees scattered over the
uneven surface, whose roots penetrated to an immense distance below. I
endeavoured, by descending into the deep fissures, to find some water,
and in doing so, traced a root above two hundred feet; it then entered
a narrow crevice, too small to admit me; the root was still larger than
my arm.
As there is no real soil on the mountain, this fine vegetation must
derive its support from the air, the moisture in the thick moss, and
the rotting leaves which sometimes lay in tangled damp masses, almost
decayed into a black mould. We climbed about a thousand feet, but
found no streams or pools, and were therefore compelled to descend.
On our return to the Capital, we had the misfortune to lose my boat
on a snag, and had a three days’ walk in the jungle through difficult
sandstone mountains, and then we constructed a raft and floated down
the river, till we met the Orang Kaya Panglima Prang, whom I had sent
for relieving boats.
In February, 1858, Mr. Low and I again attempted the ascent of Molu,
taking the Orang Kaya Panglima Prang as our guide, though neither he
nor any one else knew more of the mountain than they had gathered
during my former journey.
On the sixth day we reached the entrance of the Madalam without
difficulty, and brought up for the night on a bank of gravel and
pebbles, where there were traces of coal among the hard gray sandstone
nodules, and broken quartz. All the country we had hitherto seen
belongs to the Labuan coal measures, and the dip is steep, about 45°,
and is to the east of north.
In the evening, heavy rain came on, when the river began to rise
rapidly, and rush by us with a strong current. The men had pitched
their tents on the pebbly bank, while we stayed in the boats; we had
had a heavy day’s work, and our followers were so fatigued that they
fell asleep immediately. The rain continued pouring down. About two
hours after sunset I heard a shout, and found the water was overflowing
the tents, and rushing down the opposite side of the river like a mill
sluice, carrying along with it huge trunks of trees. With extreme
difficulty we awoke the men, and it was a work of greater difficulty
to keep them from getting into the boats before they were properly
secured. I jumped out, and soon discovered the reason; the water coming
from the lofty heights of Molu was icy cold; my teeth chattered so that
I could scarcely give an order, and the river rose so fast, that very
soon it was impossible to remain on the bank.
We none of us slept that night, our boats swayed to and fro in the
angry waters which now rushed impetuously over the point, and knowing
that we had but a small rope holding us, we feared every moment to
see it part and find our boats dashed over a neighbouring fall. In
the morning we observed by rough measurement that the water had risen
twenty-four feet. As the river continued too rapid to be contended
against, we employed next day in manufacturing strong rattan ropes. It
took us five days more to reach our camping-ground at the foot of the
mountain, a journey which in ordinary times might have been done in two.
We passed during our advance up the Madalam many curious and beautiful
plants; among others, a very elegant little palm, with finely-divided
pinnated leaves, and a stem about a foot high; it grew in tufts on
the banks, within the influence of the rise of the waters. Mr. Low
found also a beautiful climber with white flowers, in bunches, on the
_axils_ of the leaves, with a very fragrant scent; and also a
curious rhododendron, with terminal single pale yellow flowers an inch
and a half across on pendent branching stems, epiphytal in moss on
many of the trees overhanging the water; but what I admired most was a
rhododendron with large bunches of straw-coloured blossoms. It grew on
the trees, and the flower, as it gracefully bent over us, looked both
showy and beautiful. Here, too, Mr. Low discovered three new species
of the areca palm, and was enabled to secure the seeds of two: one of
them had a curious mottled foliage, another had a dark green stem, with
white sheaths to the leaves, which were most delicately fashioned, the
leaflets being linear, and not more than an eighth of an inch broad. I
may further notice that at the mouth of the Limbang River grows in the
marshes a beautiful fan-palm, which at a distance might, from its size,
be mistaken for a fine cocoa-nut tree.
We reached the Batu Rikan in safety, and passed round it, through a
small rivulet, improved into a sort of canal by the Kayans, above which
we brought up at an old Kayan encampment on the left. We had here a
good view of the range, which is a mass of limestone, and the ascent
to the summit is at an angle of 70°; impossible to ascend over any
other kind of rock than limestone, the water-worn surfaces of which
usually present so many prominent points as to render these precipices
practicable. The mountain appears to be covered with vegetation to the
precipitous summit, and even on the almost bare rocks shrubs could be
seen clinging to the crevices.
Round the base of the mountain are detached masses of limestone, much
water-worn, with caverns and natural tunnels, with the ground around
covered by the tracks of pigs and deer. At the base of the mountain the
soil is a yellow loam, with many water-worn sandstone pebbles on its
surface.
I do not intend dwelling on this expedition, as I only kept an account
of the geographical features of the country, though Mr. Low has kindly
placed his interesting journal at my disposal to refresh my memory. I
will, however, briefly indicate the character of the mountain.
We left our encampment and struck through the jungle to a spot that
a previous examination made me consider the easiest way to pass the
precipices. The rocks looked like broken masses which had fallen from
above, presenting sharp points and edges dangerous to our unshod men.
It was climbing, not walking, our hands being as much used as our feet.
We ascended about 800 feet, when we found ourselves on a sharp edge
with a valley beyond, and then descended about forty feet by means
of roots, and after a painful advance made preparations to pass the
night there, as our men were lagging. We could, however, nowhere find
a smooth place broad enough to set up our tents; so threw poles across
the rocks and heaped boughs and leaves on them, and on sticks above
spread our piled cotton tents.
We advanced next day over rather easier ground, and found more
vegetable mould between the rocks; the trees were large, and among them
I had seen on the previous day troops of reddish monkeys, equal in size
to the small kind of orang-utan. We could find no water except such
as could be obtained from squeezing the moss, or from the pitchers of
two new kinds of nepenthes. It was on the third day that Mr. Low came
upon them, after passing a deep gorge, and up a steep and fatiguing
ascent over craggy cliffs, everything being covered with long wet
moss. There were two kinds; the specimens, unfortunately, were lost
by the men:--the first was shaped something like a claret jug, with a
quadrilateral stem, and was of a pale green, except on the inside of
the pitcher, which was purplish--the pitchers themselves were about ten
inches long, and did not show the lower part in perfection except when
full-grown. The next kind was growing half buried beneath the moss,
and creeping closely along the stems of trees; its pitchers had a very
peculiar mouth, with an edge like a frill. Its stem was rough with
brown hairs, the leaves broad and short, and it was distinguished from
all others we had yet seen, by the leaves, which are close above one
another, giving off always to the right and left, and not on all sides
of the stem as in the other species; they lie also very close; its
stem was at most three feet long; the pitcher was about nine inches in
length, not including the lid.
Mr. Low, the Orang Kaya, and myself, led our party, but the ascent was
getting worse every yard. We worked our way over the most dangerous
places, where a false step would have broken our necks or limbs, or
have cut us to pieces on the sharp rocks; as we advanced, precipices
and broad deep fissures became more frequent, one of the latter we
crossed on a small tree four inches in diameter, which the Orang Kaya
felled for the purpose. It bent beneath us, and was so uncertain a
footing, that I was thankful to have passed it, as the deep chasm
below was filled with jagged rocks. The Malay description of it is
true--“sharp axes below, and pointed needles above, such is the
mountain of Molu.”
It is curious that although we were only 3,500 feet above the level of
the sea, this region resembled what is found on Kina Balu at from 5,000
to 8,000 feet, where shrubs with beautiful flowers abound.
Mr. Low discovered two very interesting little rhododendrons here.
They were epiphytal, of a character different from any he had seen
elsewhere; they had short brown lanceolate leaves, almost an inch long,
in _whorls_ of four or five, on branching brownish stems. Their
flowers were terminal and solitary, and about an inch and a half long;
one was whitish, the other a pinkish purple, and both were remarkably
pretty.
I was leading the way, when I saw a precipice before me which appeared
to be impassable; it ran across the spur we were ascending, and
extended to the ravines on either side. At last we noticed a narrow
fissure, and by supporting myself on the sharp points of rocks, and
steadying myself by a small root, I reached to within six feet of the
top. To get up the rest of the way was not very difficult, but to
get down again appeared unpleasant, and beyond rose a succession of
precipices. As the side of the mountain was at an angle of 70°, it was
easy to see a long way ahead of us. As I stood balancing myself, it
struck me as an impossibility to take loaded men up such places, so I
hailed Mr. Low, who was already commencing the ascent of the precipice,
to stop till I came down to consult. Two of my most active men, Musa
and another, volunteered to go ahead and explore, and we waited for
them at the foot of the precipice, and took observations.
It is almost impossible to conceive the difficulty of ascending this
mountain. While we were waiting here, a comparatively smooth spot, we
could find no place broad enough for the stand of the barometer, but
were obliged to construct a framework of sticks. No ledge was more than
six inches broad, and Mr. Low made me nervous by walking out on some
not an inch wide whilst in search of flowers or shells. In fact, at one
place my shoe was cut through, and three of our men had already been
sent back with severe wounds, whilst several of those left were much
injured.
Musa at last joined us with the intelligence that about one hundred
yards beyond there was a precipice, which he and his companion had
found it impossible to pass; so, very unwillingly, we turned our faces
homeward.
Descending was more dangerous than ascending, and Mr. Low got two
severe falls, as his eyes were not always on the next spot to place
his foot, but wandering about in search of plants. I escaped better,
as my thoughts were engrossed by the difficulties and dangers of the
path. It is curious that when these sharp rocks were struck they gave
out a clear ringing, almost metallic, sound; there is no appearance of
stratification: the rocks are of a fine-grained limestone, and some,
when broken, presented a pinkish, others a whitish or grayish blue
colour.
We noticed during our ascent a cave in the limestone rock about forty
feet high, and the roots of the trees growing on the rock above came
down perpendicularly and passed into the fissures in the stones that
formed the floor. Their upper parts were encrusted with carbonate of
lime in the form of stalactites. Water was continually dripping from
the roof of the cave, and in one place had collected in a little basin,
the only time we saw any pure water on the mountain.
The following day we reached our tents and enjoyed a good dinner, after
four days on biscuits and plain boiled rice. In the evening there came
on a thunderstorm, and the rain fell in a manner I have never before
known even in Borneo; it appeared to be coming down in tubsfull instead
of drops.
We attempted next day to go and examine the Batu Rikan, but the rush of
waters prevented our approaching it; in fact, the roar of the river, as
it dashed into the caves and whirled its spray into the air, made us
take precautions not to be swept into the boiling cauldron.
Our return was easy, as the river had risen enough to cover all the
rapids, so that their presence was only marked by the increased
velocity of the water; but when we joined the Limbang it became more
sluggish, and after Sungei Damit its speed had lessened from five
knots to one knot per hour.
These preliminary expeditions accomplished, having heard that I could
procure Murut guides, I determined to explore the main stream of the
Limbang, which evidently penetrated a long distance into the interior.
The ostensible object of the expedition was to reach those Muruts who
formerly lived upon the Adang, one of the tributaries of the Limbang,
but had now been driven away beyond the mountains by repeated attacks
of the Kayans. This was very vague information, but it was the best I
could procure.
The Bornean Government, on hearing of my intention to start, was filled
with uneasiness, and earnestly requested me to forego my intention. The
Sultan and Pañgeran Tumanggong were especially anxious, as they feared
some accident would happen; they talked of the head-hunting Kayans, the
wandering Pakatans with their poisoned arrows, the interior filled with
strange aborigines who had never seen a white man or even a Malay, and
the dangers of the river that imperilled our boats, and the wanderings
in the jungle that threatened starvation. The last two were especially
dwelt upon, as they reminded me of my former misadventure in returning
from Molu. They little thought that their descriptions of the interior
(from hearsay) only added to my desire to be away exploring. I knew
that all the threatened dangers really existed, but I determined to
take every precaution, and trust the rest to that fortune which had
ever befriended me in my former journeys.
It being uncertain how long I might be away, it was necessary to take
a large supply of food and ammunition. We prepared two boats, and both
were heavily laden; the first was a garei, a long canoe with raised
sides and regular timbers, forty-five feet by five, flat-bottomed, not
drawing above eighteen inches, with all her crew and stores on board.
She was commanded by a man I have often had occasion to mention, Musa,
a native of the Philippines, not above five feet one inch in height,
but sturdily and strongly built. The crew consisted of ten men, half of
whom were tried followers. An accompanying tender, containing six men,
was only suited for smooth water, being totally unfitted for the rapids
we should find in the interior, but it was our intention to change it
when we reached the Murut villages.
In this boat was Japer, the most remarkable man of the whole party. I
met him at the village of Blimbing during my first attempt to ascend
Molu, and he was full of stories. I learned that he belonged originally
to the wandering Pakatans, but had been converted to Islamism. He
appeared to have been quite a traveller, having visited Penang, Malaka,
Batavia, and Sarawak. He was familiar with the English conquest of
Java, and talked fluently of Lord Minto. I had been so accustomed to
look upon the great French war as a thing of the past, that I could
scarcely bring myself to believe that this man could have seen Lord
Minto at Malaka or Penang in 1811, but considering he was at least
sixty-three when I first saw him in 1857, there was really nothing
surprising in it.
He also abounded with accounts of Molu; having been at its base several
times, though he had never attempted to ascend it. But he told us
stories of the dwarfs who inhabited the caves, of big eggs which ten
men could not lift; but what particularly fixed the attention of his
native audience was the account of a sight witnessed by a Tutong man.
He said that one day he was seeking edible nests in holes round the
base of the mountain, when, being tired, he fell asleep in a cleft in
the side of a large cavern. He was awoke by lights flashing in his
eyes, and peering from his hiding-place, saw a long procession of
supernatural beings pass slowly by him, each carrying a torch, and
there was one to whom they all paid respect. He was too frightened to
remember the particulars, but he thinks they were dressed in flowing
robes.
Some of my men were in hopes these fearful stories would have deterred
me from my design to explore the mountain; but on my offering a reward
to any one who would take me to the cave where these wonderful sights
were seen, they saw ghosts did not daunt white men.
I took with me, also, my Chinese boy, Ahtan, to cook and wait upon me;
he had behaved so well during our Kina Balu expeditions that I liked
him to follow me.
As we might meet enemies we prepared a good stock of arms and
ammunition. I took two double-barrels, one rifle, and one smooth
bore--for general service in Borneo the latter is the best weapon of
all--a single-barrelled rifle, an Adams’s revolving carbine, and a
revolving pistol; for the men four long carbines, and a dozen flint
muskets; the last we found much too heavy for carrying through the
forests, and too cumbersome for boats.
Not knowing what kind of people we might meet, I embarked merchandise
of many kinds--hatchets, cloths (yellow, black, red, and white),
looking-glasses, agate and common beads; in fact, four times as much as
was necessary. My instruments, tents, and baggage, were both weighty
and occupied much room, so that when the crew entered the boat, with
five-and-twenty days’ provisions on board, its gunwales were not many
inches above the water.
CHAPTER II.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL.
Start--Discovery of Bones and ancient Ornaments--At the
Site of the Old City--At the Stone Fort--At Sarawak--The
Trusan, or connecting Passage--Apathy of the Government and
People--Sago--Method of preparing it for the Market--The
Limbang River--The Inhabitants--Winding Stream--The Orang
Kaya Upit of Kruei--Sampirs--Gadong Hill--Scenery--Molu--The
Raman Palm--Delays--Cholera--Orang Kaya Napur--Panglima
Prang--The Weather--State of the River--Origin of
the Ponds--Native Geographical Information--The
Upper Country--Cataract--Enchanted Mountain--Native
Travelling--Dreams and Omen Birds--Religion of Pakatans--Cause
of Head-hunting--The Wild Boar--Trouble in procuring
Guides--Pengkalan Tarap--Desolation of the Country--Causes
of it--Selling Children--Kayan Barbarity--Chinese
at Batang Parak--Site of Burnt Villages--Posts of
Houses--Two kinds of Sago Palm--Their Growth--Kayan
Encampment--Cultivation--The River--Rocks--Salt Springs--Native
Explanation--Anecdote--Time to halt--Birds--Rare, except in
certain Districts--Monkeys--Alligators--The Man-eater--A
Challenge accepted--Disappearance of the Siol Alligator--Combat
with two in a Cave--Method of Capturing them in Siam--Laying
Eggs in the Jungle--Ducks and Drakes--Malay Cookery--Very
tasty--Bachang--How to make a Curry--Anecdotes of Bornean
Rule--Attack on the Limpasong Village--Insurrection of the
Aborigines--Forced Trade--Qualities necessary in a Malay
Ruler--The great Mountain of Tilong--Discomfort of possessing a
large Diamond--Diamonds found in Borneo.
_August 25th, 1858._--We started, and as we pulled through the
town in the early morn crowds came to their doors to have a look at
what they no doubt considered as a doomed party.
Our route, after leaving the houses, was up the Brunei river, till we
reached a Trusan, or passage,[1] connecting it with the Limbang. We
soon left the pretty scenery near the capital, and exchanged for it low
banks, with mangrove swamp, occasionally varied by undulating dry land.
After a two hours’ pull, we passed the graves of some rajahs on the
left-hand bank; near them, it is reported, a great many bones are found
scattered about; the natives say it was the site of a battle-field;
gold ornaments are also occasionally discovered, but slightly covered
with soil; it is very probable that a village once stood here.
These discoveries of ancient ornaments are events of not unfrequent
occurrence. Some seven years ago a man was prawn-fishing with a
casting-net, about two miles below the consulate, when he found some
gold buttons entangled among the prawns; he instantly marked the
place, and dived, and found several articles; the news spread like
wildfire, and hundreds flocked to the spot; the mud was dug over in the
neighbourhood to the depth of several feet, and the river raked with
great care; it is reported that a large amount was found. I afterwards
examined the spot; it proved to be the site of the ancient city of
Burnei, of which Pigafetta speaks; it is now called Kota Batu, or the
stone fort, on account of the foundations of some buildings that have
been uncovered there. I must confess to great disappointment when I
visited them; these ancient remains consisted of nothing but loose
stones thrown into a long ditch about eighteen feet wide.
Great quantities of gold ornaments have likewise been discovered at the
Santubong entrance of the Sarawak river; this was likewise the site
of an old town. I tried on my last visit to find some to examine the
workmanship, but most had been melted up, and the specimens purchased
by Sir James Brooke were lost during the Chinese insurrection of 1857.
Half an hour afterwards we reached the Trusan, and entered it on our
way to the Limbang; it took us two hours and a half to get through;
the banks are low, at first mangrove, then slight openings showing
small padi fields, then sago with lofty fruit-trees in the background.
Nothing better exemplifies the character of this people and government
than the Trusan we were passing through; in a straight line the
distance cannot be three miles, yet nothing is done even to clear it
of the obstruction of fallen trees, overhanging branches, and sharp
turnings; occasionally it is not above six feet wide; hundreds pass
through it every day; and though they have often to wait hours till
the tide has risen sufficiently to float them over the obstructions,
they will not combine to clear it: fifty men in a week could render it
passable for large boats at half-tide, but there is no government for
useful purposes, and no combination among the people.
We were very glad to get clear of this Trusan, and enter into an open
space, a sort of long narrow lake connected with the main river by
diminutive passages, enclosing the island of Pandam, a dense mass of
sagotrees. Here there is some sign of life, many houses are scattered
on the banks whose inhabitants are busy preparing the pith of the palm
for transmission to the capital. We saw them to-day going through every
stage, some were felling the tree, others clearing it of all its leaves
and branches and dragging it to the water’s edge; rafts of prepared
palms were floating down alone, but with certain marks to distinguish
the owners. We landed at one spot and inquired the reason of this
unusual bustle; the price had risen, and every one was anxious to take
advantage of the market.
We had around us about a dozen men working; the trees, some of them
fifty feet in length by two and a half in diameter, were first cut in
sections of about a fathom, then split in two; the pith was scooped
out, or rather chopped out with a scoop, as it was very hard and
required great exertion to get it out; the women and children carried
it to the river’s banks to a prepared framework, and threw the rough
sago on a platform of split bamboos: here a man stood who, after
wetting the stuff with pails’ full of water, trod out the flour into a
receptacle below. It seemed a very wasteful process. The coarse sago is
put into leaf cases and sold to the Chinese, who turn it into the flour
and pearl of commerce.
Leaving the island of Pandam we joined the main stream, which was here
about a hundred yards wide; the banks as we advanced presented the same
features, low, with occasional hills to be seen, cultivation very rough
and careless; the sago and rice the most valuable; the gardens were but
poorly looked after, the chief attention being given to the banana.
Occasionally there are very extensive groves of fruit-trees, but even
these are choked with brushwood. Tame buffaloes are very numerous
on the lower part of this river; we also saw a few cows, but until
lately little attention was given to breeding them; now, however, that
a steady demand has arisen in Labuan, many of the natives have been
induced to collect herds.
After passing the Trusan no more Malay houses are to be seen; the
inhabitants being the aborigines, the Bisayas, Muruts, and a few
Kadayans; their villages occupy nearly every reach. A glance at the
map will show what a winding course this river takes; the soil being
alluvial offers no obstruction to its changing its direction, and there
are many signs of its having altered its bed.
We pulled on to the village of Kruei (Argus pheasant), the residence
of Orang Kaya Upit, a son of one of the Adang people, who had promised
to accompany us. I had with me a chop or firman from the Sultan, in
order to render my procuring guides a work of less difficulty, but,
though not refusing, the Orang Kaya was unwilling to start immediately.
It would have been very unreasonable of me to have expected a man to
be ready at a day’s notice, but this Orang Kaya had settled for some
months to accompany me. I agreed to stay a day, as I wished to procure
a couple of light boats; in the evening a messenger arrived from the
Sultan with orders for every assistance to be given me.[2]
_26th._--As this was a day of enforced delay I determined to
divide my men; some, under Musa, I sent away to purchase or borrow
boats, called here sampirs; they are long and narrow, being simply
a canoe, with a plank on either side tied on with rattans and then
roughly caulked; they have a front and stem piece fastened in the same
way; they are not strong, but are light and very suited to up-country
work, varying in length from thirty to sixty feet, and in breadth from
one and a half to three feet: as might be expected, they are any thing
but stiff.
While Musa was away on this duty, I pulled back to the Gadong hills
to take bearings. I was disappointed in not being able to distinguish
Molu, but I had some good views of other mountain ranges. The
appearance of the country from this elevation (682 feet) was very
pretty; to the east of us were alternate diminutive plains and low
hills, with rice fields whose bright green contrasted well with the
sombre brushwood; farmhouses were scattered here and there; to the
west it was but a confused mass of hills and valleys. The course of
the river is clearly visible, with its extraordinary windings and its
patches of cultivation scattered along its banks; even here in the
neighbourhood of the capital two-thirds of the land is still jungle or
brushwood.
Towards evening Musa returned, and I was glad to find that he had
arranged to buy a sampir and borrow two more, and to leave our canoe
behind.
_27th._--This morning the peak of Molu was visible, and I
immediately went ashore to get a good bearing, as the boat rocked too
much to allow me to do it aboard. I find it 9° E. of S. The Adang
Muruts give the name of Batu Barit to the mountain, or to one peak
of it; Barit is the same as the Malay “berlukis,” ornamented; they
say they call it by that name on account of some tracings observed on
the rocks, probably fanciful, or from the stone being discoloured in
various parts of the precipices. They talk also of a very large palm,
the Riman, that grows in great plenty at the foot of the mountain; this
yields in abundance a very superior kind of sago, but; _baniak_,
“much,” has a very different signification in their mouths, it may mean
a few trees scattered about, or a forest of palms.
Yesterday the Orang Kaya Upit went in search of the Merasam people, who
had agreed to accompany the expedition; they are full of delays, but
talk of following to-morrow: I shall push on to look for other guides
in case these fail us; every day’s delay lessens our stock of food; I
have tried to procure some rice in these villages, but nothing is to be
had. In fact, they will seldom sell me any food, as the Borneans would
make that an excuse to squeeze more out of them after my departure.
The Orang Kaya has begged for one of my sampirs, and as it is on my
business he is going, the request is but reasonable, so I have given
him one, and also some cloth to procure provisions.
We pushed on at 9 A.M., and as we advanced we found all the
villages deserted on account of the cholera; the visitation was nearly
over, but the Muruts were too alarmed to return to their houses; as no
one was to be found at Bidang, the residence of the Orang Kaya Napur,
an Adang man, we continued our course to Danau, where it was said we
should find him; but on arriving, we heard that he was some distance
inland; I therefore sent old Japer to look for him.
5 P.M.--Here is the Orang Kaya Napur, but there is evidently
no getting him to accompany us; he has many reasons for not going,
some of them good ones; among others, he is planting his rice farm.
I explained I only wanted a guide, not a train of followers. Towards
evening my old friend Orang Kaya Panglima Prang, of the village of
Blimbing, came to see me; he followed me to Molu in both of my former
expeditions, and is half inclined to come now, but as he does not know
the country beyond six days’ pull, he would not be very useful. He
has deserted Blimbing, having too few followers to hold his own even
against a small Kayan expedition, and so now he lives here until the
Pañgeran Tumanggong can afford him some support, not very likely to be
given at present. The cholera has attacked all the villages, but does
not seem to have carried off many; the fright was great, and still
continues, so that most of the people are yet living in the woods. All
those who do not expect to be connected with my expedition, say that
this is the proper season, and that the rain is exceptional, while
the others whom I want to accompany me, assure me that by waiting two
months I shall have fine weather. It certainly looks rainy, but we
must do our best even if freshes do come down, and we may yet reach
Adang by perseverance. This place is called Danau, on account of a
diminutive lake, or large pond, that lies at the back of the village;
the entrance, now dry, is at the end of the reach ahead.
_28th._--Last night a heavy squall, which appeared to spring from
the south-east, but soon veered round to the south-west, made me fear a
fresh in the morning, but (7 a.m.) as yet it has not come down upon us.
There is much matter held in suspension by the water, as every glass
of it we take from the river proves; this, however, appears its normal
state, as I have seen it the same at different seasons, as in October,
November, December, May, and now, August; not exactly the same, as the
water after heavy freshlets is muddy. The banks appear to be generally
formed of alluvial deposits; occasionally only have I observed hard
banks of clay, and nowhere are there rocks, except where a hill abuts
on the river. At the entrance of the Limbang there are many alluvial
deposits, and two low islands called Pulau Bharu, or the new islands,
are said by the natives to have been formed within the memory of their
old men; they are but little raised above high-water mark, and are
excellent rice grounds.
A glance at the map will show the serpentine course of the Limbang,
and how the river is eating into its banks; in several places they are
nearly worn through. I imagine (and examination almost confirms it)
that the origin of the numerous ponds to be found a short distance from
the banks arises from the alteration of the river’s bed. There is in
the Sarawak river a short cut between two reaches, which appears within
a few years likely to become the main stream--nature assisted by man:
sandbanks are already forming, which yearly tend to increase the force
of the current through the short passage, and will doubtless ultimately
close up the old channel, leaving a lake of a couple of miles in length
on the right bank.
I may here notice, in order to test the value of native geographical
information, the various accounts I have received of the journey
before us. Casting aside the stories of its being one, two, or three
months’ distance, I will simply enter what I have reduced to something
like reason. They say from Blimbing to Madalam is two days’ pull;
to Salindong, two; to Madihit, two; to Busoi or Saledan, three; to
Adang, seven, or sixteen days from the last inhabited village (since
abandoned) to the Adang landing-place: from that to the houses, from
one to six days.
I do not understand the great discrepancy in the land journey, except
that the Adangs have removed farther inland. It is certainly a voyage
of discovery, but my only anxiety is with respect to the provisions.
From the amount of water that was in the river above Madalam, I cannot
think it so far. Busoi appears to mean a cataract, and there, they say,
the river falls over rocks, and the boats have to be dragged along
the shore for a distance which varies with the stories from fifty
yards to a mile. Enormous overhanging rocks occur at the cataract,
almost shutting in the river, but above it the water is smooth, and
the pulling easy for seven days; this is not very likely. The river is
said to abound in fine fish. The story of the wild goats is beginning
to fade away, and is replaced by tame ones in the possession of the
Muruts. One of the greatest curiosities, the natives say, is the
formation of two mountains, which rise from the plain in lofty peaks of
the shape of needles; they have never been to them, but have seen them
from a distance; they are the pillars of the gate of some enchanted
palace, and I heard it whispered to one of my men that all were not
privileged to see even these pillars; it requires some incantation; so
that there is a chance of the needle mountains vanishing into thin air.
I may remark that when the natives speak of the journey sometimes
occupying two or three months, they mean for a Murut party. The reason
is that they start with, perhaps, two days’ provisions, and trust to
hunting for their food. If they find a spot where game is plentiful,
they stay there till it is exhausted; if the jungle produce no sport,
they live on the cabbages taken from the palms, on the edible fern, on
snakes, or anything, in fact, that they can find. If they come across
bees’ nests, they stop to secure the wax and honey. Time is of no value
to them, as they generally start after the harvest, and many parties
are said to have taken six months.
It is curious to hear the Islam-converted old Pakatan Japer talk. He
says dreams were sent by God to be a teaching and a warning to us; when
he is going up a river on an expedition, if he dream of his wife or of
his children, or of ascending a river, it is good; if of descending
a river, or of fire, or of anything disagreeable, he is sure to meet
an enemy or some misfortune. If his añgei, or omen bird, cry to the
right, it is good luck; his cried to the right when he left Kanowit
eight years ago, and he has not had a misfortune since. I asked him how
it came to pass then that his house was plundered and burnt down by
the Kayans last year; he was silenced for a moment, and having waited
till the men had had their laugh, he said his people considered it a
punishment for living among the bad Tabuns;[3] however, the Pakatans
have avenged him by burning down a Kayan village.
It is two p.m., and no sign of Orang Kaya Upit yet; this delay is very
provoking, as we can get no provisions here. Last night, at six, I sent
a party with Orang Kaya Napur down the river to find Kadayan, an Adang
man, and try and induce him to follow us; he promises to come in the
morning. We had a long talk last night about various matters. Old Japer
was telling us of the belief of the wild tribes. Having been converted,
however, he laughs at the follies of his countrymen, and therefore
spoils his narration. His conversion, however, is but skin deep. He
says they believe in antus, or spirits, one of whom is far greater
than the rest; he it was who “made the woods, the mountains, and the
streams, and is above all and over all.” The Pakatans call him Guha,
the Kayans, Totaduñgan.
He denies that head-hunting is a religious ceremony among them; it is
merely to show their bravery and manliness, that it may be said so and
so has obtained heads; when they quarrel, it is a constant phrase,
“How many heads did your father or grandfather get?” If less than his
own number, “Well, then, you have no occasion to be proud!” That the
possession of heads gives them great consideration as warriors and
men of wealth; the skulls being prized as the most valuable of goods.
“Alas! when I was a Kapir (infidel) I took more than forty heads,”
hypocritical sorrow, but real pride, in his tone. He adds that hunting
is the greatest pleasure of the wild tribes, and that the wild boar is
exceedingly fierce, and makes a good fight; it requires much skill to
conquer him. “It is a delight for me to look back on my hunting days.”
The China trader that lives at the Pangkalan Tarap came and promised
his assistance in getting sago, which we must use as a substitute for
rice.
_29th._--A little rain last night, and a dirty-looking morning. No
Orang Kaya Upit. We are now opposite the Chinaman’s house. I shall push
on to-morrow morning, guide or no guide, and trust to their following
us.
2 p.m.--Kadayan and a companion have come, and promise to be guides,
but as they have to return to their houses, I have no confidence that
they will follow, but only cause us fresh delays; however, as I have
obtained a pikul[4] of raw sago, and seven gantangs[5] of beans, I can
better afford to wait. They put every difficulty in the way, and lie
like troopers as to the distance, declaring it to be a journey of six
months for us who take food; they say, also, that they are in debt at
Adang, and in debt here. I have given each a piece of blachu,[6] to
buy food for their families; and I have sent a crew away to try and
borrow a couple of sampirs.
_30th._--This morning the lazy Orang Kaya Upit joined us with
three men; their omen bird, they said, had uttered a warning cry, and
they had been unable to join me before, an excuse to which I am now
somewhat used.
I am going to try and perform the journey in my own garei, as I can
find no more sampirs at these villages to buy or borrow, and with a
little extra trouble she will do, and be twice as comfortable for me.
Were we to be utterly stopt, the men say we can make some bark canoes
for those that cannot get into the sampirs.
Pangkalan Tarap is becoming an important village, as by orders of the
Pañgeran Tumanggong the people are collecting there to show a better
fight to the Kayans, and now number “two hundred men who can hold a
shield.” The detached house system, so progressive with security,
does not answer in a country exposed to periodical incursions. It
is lamentable to see this fine district, once well cultivated, now
returning to brushwood; formerly, when the population extended a
hundred miles beyond the last village at present inhabited, the supply
of provisions was ample for Brunei; now that the Muruts are decreasing,
while Brunei is perhaps as numerous as ever, the demands made are too
great even for native forbearance, and in disgust they are gradually
abandoning all garden cultivation; already brushwood is taking the
place of bananas and yams; few of either can now be had. The people
say it is useless for them to plant for others to eat the whole produce.
The aborigines must gradually disappear from this river if the same
process continues, as with food becoming daily scarcer, the area of
cultivation continually lessened, as they fear to move far from their
houses except in large armed parties, on account of the head-hunting
Kayans, their powers of natural increase must be stopped; add to this
their losses from cholera, small-pox, and the enemy, and we have
sufficient data to speculate on their eventual extermination from the
Limbang. They are gradually retreating down the river; twenty miles of
bank have been abandoned during the last two years.
Nor must it be omitted, that as the nobles are yearly less enabled to
obtain supplies from them, they are selling their children by dozens
into slavery, which enables Brunei to keep up its population. Directly
they arrive there, they are circumcised, and from that moment care
no more for their tribes, whom they despise as infidels, and they
then may be said to have joined the ranks of the oppressors. No lad
could well refuse to turn Mahomedan; he would be teased to death by
his companions, and if he long retained any affection for his family,
he would be ashamed to show it. Generally they are taken away young,
and the girls added to the numerous concubines of the rajahs: after a
year or two they get tired of them, and give them in marriage to their
followers.
At the back of this village is a large pond, and beyond there is
another of far greater extent, which they consider a great protection
against surprise. I am nursing my feet, much knocked about in ascending
Kina Balu, so do not land to examine. Obtained two pikuls more of sago.
We are pulling up quietly; passed Pangkalan Jawa. The Limbuak peak
bears about W. by S. At the back of the houses, at the foot of the
Ladan range, Orang Kaya Kiei and his family were cut off in a farmhouse
by the Kayans last February. The Kayans set fire to the rice stalks
under the house, and as the family rushed out they were killed; a
few, who either saw the fall of their companions, or were bewildered
by the smoke, stayed in the house and were burnt to death; ten women
and children lost their lives. The mode of death is conjectured from
finding seven headless trunks at the doorway, and four bodies charred,
without losing their heads. The summit of the Ladan range presents many
instances of extensive landslips. Stayed for bearings at Tampasong. I
find but few changes will be necessary in my previous map, in fact,
except in the position of the ranges, which I am carefully taking, it
will not be essentially improved as far as refers to the direction of
the reaches; but as to their length, I think many we have passed to-day
will require shortening. We were here joined by Kadayan and Si Nuri,
two Adang men.
5 p.m.--I am delighted to find myself at Batang Parak, long past the
last houses, and above sixty miles from Brunei. Batang Parak was
formerly inhabited by Chinese, who cultivated pepper; the Malays say
that they gradually died out, no fresh immigrants coming to recruit
their strength, and some of the older Muruts remembered them well, and
could repeat their names. Casual observations, however, prove that the
above was not the way in which the Chinese always disappeared, as on
passing the Madalam, a Bisaya chief pointed to a hill; formerly, he
said, the Chinese built a fort there, but they were attacked and all
killed.
But to return. I can now settle matters myself, and have nobody to
wait for. At about four, the rain and wind came in great force from
the S.W., which is a little unpleasant, but I hope it will not affect
the river above the Madalam. Slight rain continues. The men are on
shore, searching for vegetables, pumpkins, cucumbers, and fruit at the
site of the Tabun village, burnt down last year by the Kayans. The
plants grew up in great strength round the ruins, and afford supplies
to every visitor. This is the fourth time we have helped ourselves,
but to-day the pig-hunters having been before us, there are but few
left. The fruit-trees are covered with a young crop, but none are
ripe; everything, however, is eagerly appropriated by my men, who have
brought but little to eat with their rice. I leave off my journal to
turn to a miserable dinner of dried fish and stale bread, there being
no time to cook, but a bottle of porter made it palatable.
I noticed when passing the deserted village of Blimbing, which was
formerly the residence of my old friend, the Orang Kaya Panglima Prang,
that even the old posts of the houses were removed; the reason is this,
that being made of iron wood they will last for a century. In fact, in
many of the villages they have them, descended, it is said, from a long
line of ancestors, and these they remove with them wherever they may
establish themselves. Time and wear have reduced many of them to less
than five inches in diameter, the very heart of the tree, now black
with age and exposure.
When I first ascended the Limbang, and spent a few days at the village
of Blimbing, I found a large party of armed men assembled who were
preparing to collect sago palms, which grow in immense forests at the
foot of the Ladan range. They fell the palms there, and clearing them
of leaves, drag them to the banks of the small streams, and float them
to the village. They always say there are two species of sago palms,
one covered with thorns, the other free; the former is more safe from
the attacks of wild pigs, the latter perhaps more productive. Nature
has indeed stocked these countries with easily acquired food, as this
palm, for instance, though improved by cultivation, will yet reproduce
itself in extraordinary abundance.
After the first three or four years, the freshly planted palm is
surrounded by smaller ones springing from its roots, so that when the
time has arrived to secure its sago, which is after about eight years,
there is a crop of young ones approaching maturity; in fact, in a well
managed and old established plantation, a tree can yearly be cut from
the same clump. The natives know directly when the palm is ripe by the
appearance of the flower, but if it be allowed to fruit, the whole
pith is spoilt for the purposes of commerce. At present the trees in
these districts are seldom permitted to pass their fifth year, as the
aborigines fear to penetrate far into the forests, and trust to those
which grow near the banks of the river.
_31st._--Got away this morning at 6.20, and arrived at the end of
the west reach, beyond Suñgei Damit at 9.25. Just above Suñgei Damit is
the site of the great Kayan encampment. A force of above three thousand
of these wild warriors, in March and April, 1857, kept the capital in a
state of great alarm: and near here also, on the left bank, is a famous
fish-pond, Luagan Kura, and on its banks are some grassy slopes, where
the Tambadaus, or wild cattle, love to congregate. I may mention that
Mr. De Crespigny reached this spot in 1857.
There is little to notice, except that the banks are generally flat,
fringed with a low jungle, at the back of which the Muruts formerly
farmed. A stranger passing up the river would be apt to infer that
no population had tenanted this district for a century, as there are
no signs of cultivation, but the natives generally prefer farming in
spots not exposed to floods or intrusion. I have been out deer-snaring
in this neighbourhood, which made me notice that at the back of the
belt of jungle which lines the river banks there are signs of a former
extensive rice-planting.
Sagan on the right bank is a fine hill, perhaps 1,500 feet in height;
between it and Suñgei Damit is the low range of Rudi, running along the
edge of one of the reaches, and terminating a little below the Damit.
This tributary is now very low, there having been but little rain to
the S. E., so that I hope the discoloured water of the Limbang comes
from the Madalam branch. The water, however, is much higher than it
was when we ascended the river last February, as the Batang rapids are
concealed; these rapids are caused by a collection of logs, mixed with
sand and mud, and extend for several hundred yards.
I noticed the rocks occasionally cropping out of the banks. At the
mouth of the Damit I took the dip and strike: dip N. E. by N., angle
31·5; strike S. E. by E. There is a high peak to the southward (S.
by E.) which is apparently the end of the Molu range; it bends, the
natives say, towards the Limbang: if not, it is a separate range, but
the same that I see from the back of the Consulate at Brunei. I think
that the thousands of pigs which inhabit this jungle contribute to the
discoloration of the water: every night they descend to the banks and
rout up the soft mud into heaps, which are easily washed away by rain
or the rise of the river.
The fish we have caught are all small, though there are fine ones in
the centre of the stream where the net cannot be used: we see them
occasionally rise to the surface, causing a great commotion.
Japer tells me that the people of Adang occasionally obtain their salt
from traders of the east coast, but their usual supply is derived from
salt springs, and this is confirmed by Orang Kaya Upit. Japer adds
that, when head-hunting round the great mountain of Tilong, in the
centre of Borneo, he saw a salt spring that burst from the ground in
a volume of about fifteen inches in diameter, rising three feet, and
then spreading in a shower around: this is the source, he says, of
the Bangermasin, and the reason of its being so called (_masin_,
briny). He thinks there must be a passage all the way from the sea
to cause this salt spring, and no reasoning will convince him to the
contrary: his companions confirm _his_ belief by _their_
implicit belief. There is also a large lake at the foot of Tilong; he
saw it, but did not go near it, as it might be the residence of spirits.
At 11.20 we again got under way, and soon reached Naga Surei, the first
stone rapid: to the Orang Kaya Upit this place had a fearful interest;
some years since about a hundred of his countrymen came down the river
to trade in wax, and on their return stopped at this pebbly bank to
cook, and while a party went inland to hunt, others collected wood.
Suddenly three or four hundred Kayans came sweeping round the point,
and were on them before they could recover from their surprise; seventy
lost their lives, but thirty escaped.
We stopped for the night at 1.45, as the men pulled too late yesterday,
and we must prepare for the rapids and freshes that may be expected:
so I have sent them in inland to collect poles, and rattans for making
ropes to secure us at night during freshes. It is a good plan whilst
travelling in Borneo to make it a general rule to stop by 2 p.m., as
one is never sure of not having showery weather after that, and unless
the men have proper time to erect the tents and prepare the evening
meal whilst fine, they don’t work willingly. (This journey will show
what exceptions are required to general rules.) The sky is covered
with broken clouds, with occasional patches of blue. I am afraid we
shall have more rain, and the river is high enough already, though that
is better than being very low until we get into the interior, where the
rush of waters after heavy rain is terrific.
I think a traveller in Borneo will notice how few spots there are where
birds are to be observed; whilst writing this line a little bird has
perched itself before me, and by its song would induce me to alter
what I have written, but notwithstanding this appeal, I reiterate that
birds are but seldom seen. At certain hours and places a few pigeons
or doves, more rarely crows; along the banks an occasional wagtail or
kingfisher, and a songster in the trees above sometimes attracts your
attention. A solitary teal now and then rises from the least frequented
rivers, and the kite sails slowly above us.
Hornbills are seen round mountains, and sparrows abound in grassy
plains near the sea; some species are now and then abundant, as a white
crane (padi bird, or Kanawei), and various kinds of curlew (pimpin),
but on the whole, birds are rare. In some districts pheasants and
partridges are caught in snares, but as they are birds which merely
run along the surface of the ground, flying being almost out of the
question in the thick underwood, they are only noticed when brought in
by the natives. Monkeys in the northern part of Borneo are also rarely
observed. In the Limbang river I have seen but few: an occasional
baboon, a few wawahs in the Madalam branch, and a large reddish monkey
at about 1,000 feet up Molu. At Kina Balu I do not remember any. In
Sarawak, however, they are plentiful.
Pigs are very numerous here, and wild cattle and deer are also
abundant. We have as yet seen no traces of alligators, though in
the Madalam branch they are said to abound, and last spring I saw
a very large one; it was a disgusting-looking object, a great fat
slimy-looking thing,--a tail stuck on a hogshead. They are not,
however, dreaded, as they can obtain a very plentiful supply of food
from the pigs which constantly swim from bank to bank. Otherwise, it
would be unpleasant to have to steer a boat, as the man-devouring
reptile strikes his victim from the stern with a blow of his tail. This
happened to an unfortunate Malay in the Siol branch of the Sarawak, who
was pulling up that river with his wife in a small canoe.
The death of this man drew attention to the monster alligator I have
previously referred to, and Mr. Crookshank and Sadam, a very courageous
Malay, went down to place a bait on the banks of the Siol. When this
was done, they pulled back, Mr. Crookshank steering. They had seen
nothing of their enemy, so that Sadam jumped up, and, flourishing
his spear, began in a loud voice to defy the alligator, using very
insulting terms. Suddenly he dropt his weapon and seizing his paddle,
began pulling away with might and main, for the animal had just risen
to the surface of the water not twenty yards from the boat.
Though the steersman’s position was by no means an agreeable one, Mr.
Crookshank could not help laughing at the change of countenance of his
companion, who excused himself by saying it was the suddenness of his
challenge being accepted that made him pull away in an excited manner.
“But now,” he added, rising to his feet, “let him show himself again,
and I will not attempt to run.” He had scarcely uttered the words, when
the alligator, which was accustomed to follow boats, again rose to the
surface. There was no more boasting, but a frantic attempt to get out
of the Siol branch.
The alligator took the bait, but got rid of the long rattan fastened to
it, by accidentally or purposely winding it round a tree, then breaking
it off. However, though his body was not secured, it was most probable
he died from the lacerations of the stomach caused by his endeavours to
break the rattan, as I have not heard of his being seen since. It was
up the Siol branch that a place was found where the body of one of his
victims appeared to have been beaten, to break the bones, previously to
swallowing. The Malays say the alligators do it by repeated blows of
their ponderous head; in fact, one of the large teeth of the reptile
was found snapped off on the above-mentioned spot.
As I have told the story of Sadam’s alarm at the sudden appearance of
the alligator, I ought in justice to him, to mention an occurrence
which took place last year. He and his brother Dand were wandering
near Tanjong Po, a rocky point near the entrance of the Sarawak river,
when they came to a cave; hearing some movement inside, they entered,
and saw two huge alligators at the farther end. Knowing that these
ferocious reptiles are not very active, except on soft mud, or in the
water, they determined to attack them. They were armed with spears and
swords, and entering the cave, Sadam approached the first beast, and
actively springing clear to avoid its rush, drove his spear into the
soft side, and with his brother’s aid soon severed the head from its
body. Encouraged by their success they advanced to attack the second,
which was vainly endeavouring to escape over the broken rocks, and soon
succeeded in destroying it.
I was conversing one day with a French priest who had resided many
years in Siam, and he told me he had seen men there catch the alligator
in the following manner:--In the upper Menam, where the river is broad
and shallow, but with deep pools occasionally, the alligators are both
numerous and fierce; yet the inhabitants, who are very fond of eating
the flesh, pursue them with great courage and skill. Six or seven men
proceed to a pool where one of these reptiles is supposed to lurk, and
with long poles, sound every portion of it; if an animal be there he
is soon disturbed, and driven towards the shallower part of the river,
even to the sandbanks, where expert men throw their lassoes round his
feet and tail. When they think him somewhat exhausted, a bold hunter,
springing on the alligator’s back, places his hands over the creature’s
eyes, which then always remains quiet. A noose is quickly slipped over
his head, and the animal hauled ashore.
Alligators lay their eggs in the jungle. I remember hearing the late
Mr. Brereton tell the following story: He was one day hunting in the
jungle near the Sakarang fort, when his dogs gave tongue. He followed
up quickly, and found they had disturbed a female alligator laying her
eggs. Directly she saw him, she gave chase, and he had some difficulty
in getting away from her, though the dogs distracted her attention.
Alligators very seldom attack boats, but a case occurred in the Sambas
river, where a man was dragged out of a large prahu from among twenty
of his companions. My own party was never in danger from them but
once, when a large alligator rose within three feet of the boat; but
before he could do anything, I had put a rifle-ball into his side, as I
happened at that moment to be looking out for a shot at them on the mud
banks.
Having stopped so early, we had plenty of leisure-time on our hands;
and being seated on a pretty pebbly bank, I commenced a game of ducks
and drakes in the water, in which I was soon joined by the whole
party--it afforded them great amusement. I may here remark that you may
allow this kind of freedom with your native followers, without their
ever taking advantage of it another time. If they see you inclined
to chat, or to amuse yourself with them, they are delighted; if you
desire to be quiet, they never disturb you by any intrusion or undue
familiarity.
My cook Ahtan, who was very much annoyed last night by having to set
before me so poor a dinner as stale bread and salt fish, determined,
as he had a long afternoon before him, to devote it to cooking,
particularly as I always divided it into two portions, one for him,
and one for myself. The curry he produced was admirable, and having
secured a cucumber last night, he was enabled to add what the Malays
call a sambal, of which there are many kinds; the one he made was of
the sliced cucumber, and green and red chillies cut into fine threads;
others are of dried salt fish finely powdered, or fish roes, or
hard-boiled eggs, or the tender shoots of the bamboo, but with all, or
nearly all, red or green chillies are added. The most delicious I have
ever seen put on table was made of prawns about an inch long, partly
boiled, then seasoned with freshly prepared curry mixture, and at last
slightly moved over the fire in a frying-pan, taking care not to burn
it; if chillies are added judiciously, so as not to render it too
fiery, it causes a keen appetite to all but a confirmed invalid.
Malay cookery is sometimes very tasty; I remember spending a fortnight
in the Sultan’s palace, and we were fed daily from his kitchen;
sometimes the stewed fowls were admirable, and there was a particular
kind of rice-cake sent in very hot, which was delicious. But the
triumph of Malay cookery is to send in the sambals in perfection,
particularly the one called blachang; the best is composed of the very
finest prawns, caught, I imagine, soon after the little ones have
burst from their eggs, and pounded up with red chillies, and a little
ginger. Coarser kinds are made from the larger prawn, or even from the
smallest fish caught on the river’s banks. Sometimes the material is
first exposed to the sun in order to be completely dried, or it would
not keep or mix very well, though it is often soaked till nearly
decomposed, and that is perhaps the favourite way when it emits a
rather powerful scent, but it is very tasty. Prawns and fish are cooked
in a great variety of ways, but roasting them over a fire as abobs, is
an excellent fashion, if you first sprinkle them with curry mixture.
I have mentioned the admirable curry which Ahtan put before me; perhaps
I ought to explain how we make that dish in the Far East; it appears
a very different thing from what I have tasted in England under the
name of curry: a fowl is cut up into small pieces, and four dried and
two green onions, five chillies, half a turmeric, one teaspoonful
of coriander seed, one of white cumin, and one of sweet cumin are
provided. You must well pound the seeds, turmeric and chillies, and
slice the onions fine; then take the saucepan, and after buttering it,
slightly brown the onions, then add the pounded ingredients with just
sufficient water to reduce them to a paste, and throw in the fowl and
well mix them up, till the meat has a yellow tint, and lastly, add the
cocoa-nut milk, and boil till the curry be thoroughly cooked. I hope my
teaching is sufficiently clear to be understood, but I must add, the
cocoa-nut milk is made by scraping the meat of half of an old nut very
fine, then soaking it in warm water, and after squeezing out the milk,
throw the fibre away. I watched the whole process of cooking with great
interest, and almost fancy I could make a curry myself.
After dark, while the men were sitting in their tents, I had a talk
with the Orang Kaya Upit about the treatment of the aborigines. Now
that we are away from the influence of the rajahs, he will speak out,
and tell me anecdotes that otherwise would never reach my ears: they
are admirably illustrative of the present method of governing this
country. A few years ago, a Murut of the Limpasong village killed a
tax-gatherer. There was little doubt that the Murut could only excuse
himself by urging oppression; and that had he been seized and executed,
nothing could very well be said on the subject; but the present
Sultan thought differently: instead of killing the offending Murut,
he determined to destroy the village of about two hundred souls. He
collected a force of Malays to attack the houses from the river, and
promised the Muruts the heads, slaves, and plunder, if they attacked
by land. The Limpasong people surrounded by a couple of thousand men
had no chance; they made a slight resistance, then fled. The Muruts in
the woods fell upon them, killed about fifty, and took about the same
number of women and children prisoners; the rest escaped. The Orang
Kaya thought nothing of this; but the grievance was that the Sultan
took away all the prisoners as his slaves, and likewise defrauded the
Muruts of the most valuable plunder.
Again, in 1850, the nephew of the late Sultan was dunning a Bisaya
for an imaginary debt; the man, to escape annoyance, tried to jump
out of the verandah, when a follower of the noble wounded him with a
sharp stick. This roused his friends, and they killed the whole party.
Directly they had done so, they remembered the gravity of the act, and
formed a league with the neighbouring villages to resist the force
that was sure to attack them from the capital. They erected a stockade,
and a few of their bravest men defended it for a short time: there was
much firing and great beating of gongs, but little damage. The noise,
however, frightened the Bisayas and Muruts, and they fled; but as they
left the stockade, Orang Kaya Upit fired his musket, and killed a
Bornean. This was enough to prevent all idea of pursuit.
Now was the time for the wily Makota to settle matters: he sent a
flag of truce, and after some discussion, it was agreed that four
persons should be given up to suffer death in satisfaction for those
who were killed with the Sultan’s nephew. Now comes the infamous part
of the story. The aborigines gave up a stranger, who had married in
the country, and who had had nothing whatever to do with the original
murders: they gave him up, with his wife, his grandfather, and
grandmother, and his two children--the last were kept as slaves by
Makota, the other four executed.
I mentioned the Sultan’s nephew was dunning for an imaginary debt: I
must explain this. There is a system in this country called “serra,”
or “serra dagang,” or forced trade, which I have before referred to,
but it is carried on in the neighbourhood of the capital to an extent
unknown elsewhere. Every noble of any influence that thinks proper
goes to a tribe with some cloth, and calling the chief, orders him to
divide it among his tribe; he then demands as its price from twenty to
a hundred times its value. He does not expect to get the whole at once,
but it enables him to dun the tribe for years after. Not content with
taking their goods for these imaginary debts, they constantly seize
their young children and carry them off as slaves. The tribe who killed
the Sultan’s nephew had actually paid their serra to thirty-three
different nobles that year, and had been literally stripped of all
their food, before giving way to passion, they destroyed the whole
party above referred to.
Makota was enabled to settle the matter quickly, because without the
food they get from Limbang, the capital would starve. I little thought
that within three months of my writing the above lines, Makota would
likewise have lost his life by his infamous oppressions.
A system very much encouraged by the Borneans is to induce the Orang
Kayas to sell as slaves all the orphans of a tribe, or the children
of any poor Murut who cannot pay his debts: they are systematically
corrupting the tribes. In hearing these stories of the Sultan and his
nobles, which, I may add, I have no doubt are quite correctly and
fairly told by the Muruts, as I have often heard the same or similar
ones from the Borneans, I was reminded of the old Malay saying of the
four qualities which a ruler should possess. The Borneans, though they
know the words, have forgotten the spirit: a sovereign should be brave,
just, patient, and yet possess the power of being angry.
Old Japer makes me long to visit the great mountain of Tilong. I
asked him to give me some idea of it; he answered, “Imagine the flat
summit of Kina Balu carried higher till it ended in a peak;” it is
occasionally white at the top, but rarely remains so for many hours
after sunrise, so it does not reach the regions of perpetual snow. I
should like to organize an expedition to explore it; he says it is
quite practicable. I may even see the great diamond now in the hands of
a Malau chief, who would even give it me if I would help him to destroy
a Malay noble who attacked his house in order to get possession of
this famous stone: the Malay was driven off, not however before he had
lodged a ball in the jaw of the Malau chief. “To avenge this wound he
would give you anything.” I told him I would go to see the mountain and
the diamond, if he would take me; but he says he hopes to perform the
pilgrimage to Mecca towards the end of the year, if I will assist him.
He wants to see the land that “God made holy, and where He performed so
many wonderful works.” He fears that, as now he is an old man, he may
die without fulfilling the desire of his life.
Speaking of the Malau diamond reminds me of the famous one formerly
said to be possessed by the Sultan of Matan, for which he was offered
immense sums. Borneo, however, has always been famous for its diamonds,
which are worked at the present time by the Chinese and Malays at
Landak, a country lying farther inland than Sambas; and there are
two streams in Sarawak, the Santah, and a branch of the Quop, where
diamonds of a very fine water have been found, but those places have
not yet been regularly explored. Occasionally very pretty diamonds
are brought over from the Dutch territories to Sarawak, but I have
seldom examined them. It is never safe to trust to reports respecting
diamonds; for instance, I was once informed that a noble in Brunei had
a very large diamond which he wished to part with, but when we came to
examine it, we found it was a pinkish topaz, as large as a pullet’s
egg, and he asked a thousand pounds for it.
CHAPTER III.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_continued_.
Wet Morning--Wild Cattle--A Night Adventure--View of Molu
Mountain--A Pebbly Flat--Moose Deer--Our Tents--Kayans--Their
Attacks--Desolation--Course they pursue to invade
these Districts--Difficulties--Attack the Lepuasing
Muruts--Fearful Retaliation--Attacks on the Villages of the
Lower Limbang--Makota’s Treachery--His Cupidity--Surprise
of Balat Ikan--Alarm Signal--Advance--Fresh Kayan
Marks--Inundations--Unskilful Sportsmen--Difficult Rapids--The
Sertab Hills--Enter the Limestone District--A New Kayan
Hut--High Pork--Effect of Pebbles on the Rock--Agreeable
Evening--Omen Birds--Japer’s Method of easing a sore
Heart--The Punan Tribe--The Spy--The Alligator Omen--The Bird
Omen--Attack the Village--Poisoned Arrows--Destruction of a
Tribe--Effect of such Forays on the Country--The Ghosts on
the Tapang Tree--Numerous Bees’ Nests--Sand Flies--Seribas
Omen Bird--The Salindong--Kayan Resting-place--Traces of
Captives taken--Precautions--Difficulties increase--Limestone
Country--Severe Toil--Accidents avoided--Hauling the
Boats--River narrows--A Fresh--Towing-ropes--Story of the Death
of Orang Kaya Apo--Enter the Sandstone District again--Broader
River--Snakes on Trees--The same Colour as the Boughs and
Foliage--Biawaks or Guanas--A large One--Their Ways--The Fowls
and the Cobra--Heavy Day’s Work--Future Plans--Two Ways of
reaching Adang--The flying Foxes--Huge Frog--The Madihit--Leave
our Boats--Handsome Trees--Appearance of the Country--Sand
Flies--Preparations for the Overland Journey--Division of
Food--Our famous Hunters--A Cache--The Chinese on the Madihit.
_September 1st_, 7 a.m.--The night continued fine till towards
early morn, when the rain commenced, and still continues. The showers
are not very heavy, but there is an incessant descent of drizzle. The
river rose two feet during the night, but there is a tendency to fall.
I should push on immediately, only it is now necessary to open all the
mat coverings, and prepare for poling; before we could stow away the
baggage, they would be wet through. I must have patience.
3 p.m.--Having breakfasted, and the weather clearing, we managed to get
away at 8.15, and at 11.20 passed the entrance of the Madalam. At Pulau
Tambadau, so called on account of our twice disturbing a fine tambadau
bull from this island, I sent the Orang Kaya round the inner passage to
drive any wild cattle that might be there towards the main river; but,
unfortunately, they heard him, and we saw them plunge from the end of
the island into the narrow stream. He fired, says he hit one, but there
was no result--very vexing, as I thought he would go so quietly as to
drive the cattle towards us. Had they plunged into the main stream, we
should have secured several: there were eight, some of them quite young.
Just at the entrance of the Madalam, opposite the site of the China
fort before mentioned, we once had what I thought might have proved
a serious adventure. We had built a small hut, and our whole party
consisting of but fifteen, we kept a good watch. Towards four in the
morning, the sentinel touched me quietly, I got up, and found old Japer
watching with a musket in his hand, who beckoned me to him; then I
distinctly heard footsteps in the jungle. I told the sentinel to wake
the men quietly, and when all were prepared, I shouted out in Malay,
“Who goes there?” No answer, but perfect stillness. I then made Japer
hail in the Kayan and also in the Murut languages, and as again no
answer was returned, I fired a miniè rifle over the spot from whence
the noise of footsteps had proceeded. The crash of the conical ball
in the trees made the intruders rush back. In about a quarter of an
hour we heard steps on the pebbly flat below us. We again hailed, but
obtaining no answer, we fired a volley. There was much movement, as
of footsteps in rapid retreat. I thought at first it might be a pig
or a tambadau; but on examining the jungle near the hut, we found the
footprints of several men who had crawled up very near to us. They may
have been only wax hunters, but they ought to have answered the hail:
my men, however, insisted that they were Kayans.
After leaving the Madalam on our right, we entered a perfectly new
country. We saw a range of hills, said to be Sertab, to the eastward.
We stopped at two p.m. below an extensive pebbly flat. It shortly
afterwards commenced raining, and is now pouring heavily, though as the
clouds are coming from the north, there is some hope of the weather
clearing up. Just below Tambadau Island we had a view of the Molu
range, and I was somewhat puzzled by it. There appear to be two peaks,
the westernmost much lower than that to the east, which is considerably
loftier. When we were at the foot of the range, we noticed that there
was a peak to the westward, but not much separated from the mountain
we attempted to ascend.[7]
9 p.m.--About four p.m. the rain ceased, but the river continued to
rise till seven: it is now gradually sinking. It rose three feet in
this broad space, so that in the narrow portions of the stream it must
have risen much more. We have fastened our boats in a safe place, under
a clump of trees near the northern part of the pebbly flat. This mass
of shingle is, perhaps, 300 yards by 150 in its broadest part, and
forms the easternmost portion of an island. In pulling along to-day, I
noticed several of these beds of water-worn pebbles showing themselves
in the banks, from two to eighteen feet above the present level of the
river, which proves that the stream flows now at a much lower level;
great accumulations of drift wood may also be occasionally observed
cropping out of the steep banks. We have as yet passed no ancient
forest; young jungle, mixed with bamboos, cover the banks. The water
to-day has, on the whole, been very shallow, and we had to use great
exertions occasionally to get the boats over the rapids.
Just before dusk, a man shouted out that there were moose-deer in the
island. We instituted a very active search, but the cunning animals hid
themselves away in the long grass and brushwood, so that without dogs
they were not to be found, and swimming exceedingly well, they always
take to the water when pursued.
_2nd._--(My journal appears to be filled with nothing but notices
of the weather; but as success or non-success depended entirely on
the amount of rain that fell, it is very natural that I should have
recorded the changes from dry to wet and wet to dry.) There was a
little drizzling during the night, the water falling two feet, but at
four a.m. the rain came down in torrents, and the rush of the stream
forbad any attempt at advancing.
4 p.m.--It is unpleasant to record no progress, but the river is still
two feet higher than it was this morning, and is falling but slowly.
Were it still early, I should push on, but it is useless to disturb
ourselves so late in the afternoon. I had a clear, but partial view
to-day of what Japer calls the east end of Molu range. Their summits
appear to rise to between 5,000 and 6,000 feet; they are the mountains
which I can see from the back of the Consulate.
The men begin now to appreciate the tents, and pitch them every night.
I still sleep in the boat, as it is a work of labour to remove my
baggage, and it is as well not to leave it without my servant or myself
to watch over it. To-day we noticed evidences of there having been
visitors lately in this neighbourhood. Our guides declare they are
Kayans, so that the men are beginning to keep a look-out.
We are surrounded by the evidences of former cultivation, but now the
country is totally abandoned. The Kayans first of all attacked the
Tabuns, who lived on the Madalam, and drove them away; they then
attacked the Muruts on the main river, and these being all disunited,
were destroyed piecemeal, each village caring only for itself. There is
now not an inhabitant on the Upper Limbang except among the mountains
close to its sources. Far as the Muruts have fled--and they are beyond
the distant eastern range--they are still exposed to forays. However,
they are seldom disturbed by great attacks; they are more annoyed by
small parties of from ten to fifty.
In my journal kept during my visit to the Baram Kayans, I mention that
there was great weeping in some of the villages on account of the
destruction of a party said to have amounted to six hundred, but I
believe two hundred was the right number. They started from the Baram
town to search for heads and slaves in the Upper Trusan. I will follow
the course they took, to show what energy they display in this warlike
amusement. They pulled down the Baram until they reached the Tutu
branch; which they ascended to the Millanau, then up that tributary to
the foot of the western Molu range.
Here was the regular Kayan road connecting the Millanau with the
Trunan, a branch of the Madalam. This road is cleared about two fathoms
broad, and then trunks of small trees are laid across and secured about
a yard apart. I followed it once for upwards of two miles. The Kayans,
on reaching this spot, haul their boats (tamuis) along the road, and
considering that some of their tamuis are sixty feet long, it is a work
of infinite labour, but three or four crews lay on to one boat and
gradually move the whole fleet over into the Trunan river. From thence
they descend about thirty miles through the Madalam to the Limbang;
then up the Limbang to the Adang landing-place--very heavy work, as we
find it.
On this occasion they pushed farther up the river, and crossed over
to the interior of the Trusan. Here, as ill luck would have it, they
were noticed by the Lepuasing Muruts, and contrary to the usual Murut
custom, a large force quietly collected, and before the Kayans had
killed above two women and a child, they were attacked in the rear and
fled to an island full of caves.
They were soon surrounded, and the alarm having spread, reinforcements
of Muruts came in on every side. They attacked the mouths of some of
the caves, but the Kayans easily beat them off. Finding they were
losing men to no purpose, they changed their tactics, and at this part
of the story the Murut listeners gave a grunt of satisfaction. They
collected great quantities of firewood and heaped it before the caves,
then set it on fire, and prepared for the rush that would surely take
place. Maddened by the smoke, the Kayans attempted to break through,
but were driven back, and in less than two hours the whole party were
either killed or suffocated. The Lepuasing Muruts have suffered from
no further attacks. One or two Kayans who did not fly to the caves
got away, and reached their homes after a few months in a state of
semi-starvation.
The Kayans having driven the Muruts of the upper Limbang away, are now
extending their attacks to the portion nearer the capital. In March,
1857, they came over to the number of three thousand, and built a
large encampment at the mouth of the Damit river; from thence they sent
insolent messages to the Government of Brunei, threatening to destroy
the whole country unless some particular village was given up to them
to plunder. The Bornean Government, in great fear, collected every
available man, and sent them up to oppose the Kayans; but, apparently,
neither felt inclined to fight.
After about a month’s talk, Makota proposed that the Kayans should be
bribed by the Muruts to return to their own country; but the latter,
remembering a former trick he had played them, were very unwilling to
come to terms; so Makota had a secret interview with the Kayan chiefs,
and then gave out that peace was concluded, that the Kayans would
go back to their own country, and so ordered the Bornean forces to
return to the capital. Scarcely had they done so, when Makota’s plan
was revealed: he had given them up a Murut village (Balat Ikan) which
he disliked; the Kayans surprised it, killed thirteen, and captured
seventeen, obtaining likewise the whole plunder. This was the Bornean
plan of getting rid of an enemy. It is worthy of remark that while
the two forces were face to face, traders from the capital went up to
supply the Kayans with food in exchange for valuable jungle produce.
The way in which the head-hunters surprised Balat Ikan is an
illustration of the divisions that separate the different races on the
Limbang. The frontier fortified village was then Blimbing, inhabited
by Bisayans, commanded by a son of the old Orang Kaya Panglima Prang,
I have often referred to, and when he saw the Kayan force descending
the river, he ran to his guns and prepared to fire into them, but the
people in the foremost boat shouted out that if he would neither fire
his guns, or beat the alarm signal, they would not meddle with his
village, upon which he ordered his men not to interfere. The villagers
of Balat Ikan, inhabited by Muruts, trusting to the usual alarm signal,
kept no watch, and were easily surprised.
From time immemorial, it has been a custom among the inhabitants of
these villages to beat an alarm on their gongs on the first appearance
of an enemy, or when some great misfortune has happened. It puts the
people on the alert, as when I lost my boat on a snag in the Madalam,
the report spread I was drowned or in trouble, and the alarm signal was
beaten, and I met a dozen boats coming to the rescue, or to inquire
into the truth of the report.
Makota’s trick, referred to above, was this--The Kayans were in force
at Sungei Damit (in 1855) when he arranged with their chiefs that on
the payment of a hundred pikuls of guns (700_l._) they should
retire. The Muruts collected a large amount, which Makota coolly kept
for himself. The enraged Kayans fell upon a Tabun village above Batang
Parak, and carried it with great slaughter of men, women, and children.
Having remained quiet the whole day, the men were in no way fatigued,
and we sat late talking over these and other matters, and collecting
words of the Adang language, which is, in fact, the same as that of the
other Muruts.
_3rd._ The river did not fall above three inches during the night,
but I pushed off at six and brought up at 12.45 for the day, as it was
thundering and threatening rain from the S.W. Three p.m.--The rain
has just commenced, but we are comfortably sheltered for the night.
There is little to notice, except that the river continues broad and
often very shallow, each reach containing an island which, of course,
produces a rapid, rendering our progress slow. Occasionally the banks
are high, showing a sort of stratified shale. The jungle continues
small, except on some of the low hills we have passed. From our resting
place the Sertab range does not appear to be far off.
Some of our party are much alarmed by finding a long Kayan hut but
recently occupied; so that there is no doubt that the head-hunters
have been here, which induces me to take every reasonable precaution;
but our Muruts are full of the most absurd fancies, saying that if the
Kayans have killed people in the interior, the villagers will declare
we did it, and attack us. They would willingly return to their homes;
even those who are anxious to see their friends are disheartened by the
assured marks of the recent neighbourhood of the head-hunters. I have
told all the men that on no account are we to meddle with the Kayans,
but should they attack any of our party, then to fall upon them without
mercy. I hope we shall neither see nor hear anything of them.
We have brought up for the night at a curious place, a sort of large
island, a stony and sandy plain, about 200 by 400 yards, with patches
of vegetation and clumps of trees on it. There is one about fifty
yards from us, that will afford shelter in case of a heavy fresh. There
is every sign of there being tremendous inundations in this river. Our
sportsmen, with their usual ill-luck, missed a deer on the sandy plain
before us. There are numerous droppings of wild cattle, and our men
have just reported some on the other side of the river, about a quarter
of a mile farther up. If it cease raining before sunset, I will go
after them.
7 p.m.--I have been, and there is not a trace of anything but pigs. A
huge boar swam away within fifty yards of one of the men, but he missed
it; we were consoled, however, on our return, by catching some very
fine fish. Rain has again commenced, and until we leave Molu to the
north of us will, I believe, continue.
_4th._--Though it drizzled a good part of the night, still the
river fell nine inches. We got away by 6 a.m., and pulled on till 9.40,
when we stopped for breakfast; off again at 11.25, and brought up for
the night at 3.35. This is the most fortunate day we have yet had:
cloudy in the morning, but clearing up into fine weather. We have had
seven hours and a half of good work, not including stoppages, and have
made, I think, more than eight miles. Nearly every reach includes a
rapid, and one at the Sertab hills caused us a little delay, as we had
to remove stones to make a passage for our boats. In the least rapid
part of the river is a good place for taking the dip and strike of the
rock. Dip N.N.W., strike E.N.E., angle 80°, sandstone.
The river has been winding the whole day among hills, varying in
elevation from 500 to 1,500 feet (estimated), and clothed with a fine
forest. At the distance the Sertab hills appear to be a single range,
but in fact they are a succession of short ones. When this district was
inhabited, no doubt each had a distinct name, but now they call them
all the Sertab hills. We are about to leave the sandstone country. In
the last reach I applied the test to the first piece of limestone I
have seen during this expedition, but it was scarcely necessary, as
there was no mistaking its form. The Salindong hills ahead of us are
evidently limestone. We had a partial view of a high mountain, which
Japer says is the east end of the Molu range, which I long to see in
the rear, but as yet it is always to the east of south. I suspect there
are several ranges, forming what the natives call the Molu hills. The
general direction from the mouth of the Madalam has been S.E. by E.
The incidents which have varied the day have been the finding of
another new Kayan sulap, or hut, and the decaying head of a large
wild boar left by an alligator on the bank. The last was for us an
unfortunate discovery, as the Muruts seized upon it, and have it now in
their boat--a most offensive subject for our nostrils. Every time they
passed us a most disgusting whiff came our way, and now at our resting
place we are obliged to insist that they shall either get rid of the
head, or encamp away from us. The love of high pork has prevailed over
fear, so they have taken up their quarters at the other end of the
pebbly flat.
I have noticed to-day many of those deep holes in rocks mentioned by
De la Beche, as caused by the continual working of pebbles on them.
Many have bored their way down several feet, working even through to
the stream; others are in every stage of progress. The river, though in
many places deep, is generally shallow, particularly at the rapids, and
it occasionally rushes down with great force. I expect as we enter the
limestone district, to change the character of these impediments, which
have as yet consisted of pebbles, gradually enlarging as we move up the
river; many of limestone are now showing themselves. The Muruts declare
there are edible birds’-nest caves near Salindong; but we must reserve
any search till our return, as I will not allow anything to interfere
with our advance.
I do enjoy this exploration of new countries. I especially enjoy an
evening such as this. It is a fine star-light night; we have pitched
our tents on a broad pebbly flat, and the men have collected a great
pile of wood, with which to keep up a cheerful fire. Most of us
are sitting round it, and that everlasting subject of discussion
arises--how far are the Kayans off. The hut to-day appeared as if very
lately used, but if we are to be attacked, I hope it will be in the
day-time. The conversation was beginning to flag, when suddenly we
heard a bird utter three cries to our right. “Ah,” cried Japer, “that
is a good sign,” and instantly reverted to head-hunting and omens. I
will here introduce a story illustrative of the practice. Its cool
atrocity always makes my heart sick. Japer told it in illustration of
various omens. I will try and relate it in his own words, whilst they
are still ringing in my ears.
“I am acquainted with all the different birds and animals in which
the Pakatans have faith. Do you hear that grasshopper,--it is on the
right, and is a sign of good fortune. Were there three or four sounding
together, we should instantly leave our hut, at whatever time of night,
and seek a new resting-place, or we should suffer for it. When the bird
of omen flies over us from the quarter whence we have just arrived,
it is a good sign; the bird tells us to advance. If he flew from the
quarter whence we were going, we should return to our last night’s
resting-place, whatever might be the distance. You know that bird which
has three cries? When it sounds to the right it is good luck; and also
when to the left, if very near an enemy, it rejoices to give them to
us as a prey. When it cries, 'Trik, trik,’ it is death to those that
advance.
“I will tell you what has happened to me since I have entered El
Islam. Two of my grand-children died of sickness. How was I to lose
the soreness of heart occasioned by this event? I determined to go
head-hunting. I sent a hundred of my tribe up the Rejang, and started
myself with seventy to Bintulu. There the Orang Kaya Pamancha came to
me and said, 'You are going to kill some of my people.’ 'No; I am not,’
I answered. 'Well,’ he said, 'there is a tribe of Punans living near
Bukit Lambir, who owe me for goods, which they have had for some time.
They sell their camphor and their wax to others, not to me. Go and
attack them; there are only thirty males. But don’t forget me when you
divide the women and children.’
“So I sent my brother, who is a brave man, and he started in a small
canoe, with three men. After a long search, he arrived in their
neighbourhood, and heard them talking in the woods. He therefore hid
his canoe, and that night walked up close to their village. He then
stripped and left his sword and everything near an old tree, and
fastening a string to the stump, crawled towards the house like a pig
on all fours, but gradually letting out the string behind him; this was
to be his guide in returning to his clothes. He found that the house
was large. He then crawled back to the place from whence he started.
Not satisfied with this inspection, he determined to remain there and
have a look at the place during the day. At dawn he concealed himself
in a hollow tree, and waited there till all the Punans had gone out
hunting; he then boldly went near the house and counted the number of
doors--'families’--which he found to be forty. Thereupon, he returned
to his companions, and they all together pulled off to Bintulu.
“On meeting, I asked what was the news? As this was in public, my
younger brother answered, 'Antah,’ (nothing particular); but presently
calling me on one side, he told me all that he had seen. That very
night I started off with my whole party. When we reached the entrance
of the Lambir River, a great alligator rose to the surface, and kept
up with our boats the whole way. This was a good omen, and I addressed
the animal thus:--'Oh, grandfather, give us good fortune, and we will
provide you with a feast.’ We were all in the highest spirits, when
the omen bird flew from the right hand to the left, crying 'Trik,
trik;’ and immediately another flew from the left to the right,
sounding ‘Trik, trik.’ This double crossing was a very bad omen, and
portended a fight and much contention; so I said to my followers, 'Let
us return to our boats for three days; this omen is very bad.’ But they
laughed at me, and said, 'You are becoming afraid.’ 'Very well,’ I
answered, 'let us go on; I shall not be the only one to die.’
“Upon this we approached the house, and at break of day commenced
hurling our siligis (wooden javelins) through the bark walls. Upon
this the Punans answered with a flight of sumpits (poisoned arrows),
one of which struck me on the hand. I dragged it out with my teeth,
of which I had then a few left, and bound up the wound. The charm I
possessed prevented its having any bad effect. When my relations saw
that I was wounded, they said, 'Oh, father, you had better retire.’ But
I answered, 'No; I did not seek the fight to-day; I shall not retire.’
I tried to discharge a new gun I had bought, but the instrument (may it
and he who sold it me be accursed!) would not go off.
“The Punans, fearing that we would use fire, began now to come down
from their house to fight on the ground. They were thirty-five,
we were seventy; but the sun had descended as low as that in the
heavens”--pointing, as he said these words, to the sky (4 p.m.)--“ere
the fight was over. We killed them all; they fought like brave men; not
one tried to run away. We then went up to the houses and seized the
women and children. We captured fifty-five. When we caught a woman, it
was like catching a hen; all her children flocked to her like chickens.
When we caught a child, the mother ran to it directly. That night we
made merry in the house, and next day started off to Bintulu. Some of
the captives cried, others made no sign. My share came to two, whom I
sold to a Brunei man for a pikul of guns each (thirty Spanish dollars).
On that occasion ten of our party were killed, and nearly every man
wounded, which was all caused by neglecting the warning the omen-birds
gave; but our young men were too eager. We got thirty-five heads.
Had they followed my advice, we should have fallen upon them when
unprepared, but I was not listened to.”
Such is the story I have before heard, and Japer has now again repeated
to me in all its detail. I have written it down almost word for word,
omitting, however, his two single combats, in which his opponents fell.
He is a well-known warrior amongst them. The Punans had never done
them the slightest injury; but, for the sake of easing his sore heart,
a tribe is massacred. The Orang Kaya, who gave the information, got a
slave for his trouble. What country can prosper where such scenes are
constantly occurring?
At this moment there are, most probably, from twenty to forty Kayans
pulling before us, seeking for heads and slaves. We cannot be certain
of the number, as, from the signs, there may be one or two tamuis;
and the maxim of these ruffians is, that out of their own country all
are fair game. “Were we to meet our father, we would slay him.” The
head of a child or of a woman is as highly prized as that of a man;
so, as easier prey, the cowards seek them by lying in ambush near
the plantations. I ought to add, that some of the relations of the
Pakatans, who were killed in the foray, sacrificed two of the women
captives for the sake of the heads and for revenge.
The Orang Kaya Upit and his party listened to this story with great
interest, and evidently envied Japer the glorious chance he had had. I
changed the conversation, and then they told stories of the wrongs they
suffered at the hands of the people of the capital. To-night they were
full of stories. Old Japer is a store-house of information; he is so
well acquainted with the countries between Sarawak and Brunei. He has
a thorough faith in ghosts and spirits, and tells of many an adventure
with them; of the Antus who caused the death of the wax-hunters, by
pushing them off the meñgiris or tapang-tree. When the unfortunate
men, from inefficient preparations, as their companions not keeping up
a great fire under the trees to stupefy the bees, are so stung as to
let go their hold, the natural explanation is never taken; they fly to
their superstitions.
Japer’s nephew saw one of these tapang ghosts, and managed to keep his
eye upon him and prevent him pushing him off; he came down without
accident, but without any wax. I suggested that he invented the ghost
to excuse his timidity, which Japer thought probable. To-day we passed
one of these lofty trees, bearing above twenty bees’-nests, among them
four old ones white with wax. As the country is full of tapangs, in
which alone do the bees build their nests, the stories of the great
amount of wax formerly procured in this district may be true. Why do
the honey-bees generally build on one particular tree? Its being the
finest in the forest is no good reason; perhaps there is something
enticing in the bark. I say “generally,” because, though I have never
seen their nests on other trees, yet I have often come across them in
the crevices of rocks.
If travelling has its pleasures, it has also its disagreeables:
mosquitoes near the sea, leeches by thousands in the jungle, and swarms
of sand-flies on the banks of the rivers. The fire being nearly out,
there is no smoke to drive these last nuisances away, and they compel
me to close my journal for the night, and retire under the shelter of a
Scotch plaid.
I have so often mentioned the omen-birds, that I will describe the one
which is most considered by the Seribas Dayaks: body, a bright red;
wings, black, chequered with white; head, black at top, with a beak
and throat light blue; the tail long, a mixture of black, white, and
brown; about the size of a blackbird; the beak is slightly hooked. It
is a scarce bird, and is called by the natives Burong Papaw. The bird
is before me while describing it. I dare say a naturalist would notice
more peculiarities.
_5th._--Though I don’t do very much work, yet I was so tired this
evening that I fell asleep without writing in the day’s journal; but,
waking up at nine a.m., I will briefly notice the day’s occurrences.
We got away at quarter-past six, and, after ascending half a mile,
found ourselves at the mouth of the Salidong, or Salindong, which is
but a small stream on the right hank. A limestone cliff marks the
entrance, and probably gives the name to the branch, _lindong_, to
overshadow. Opposite to it was a Kayan resting-place, where we found
marks which proved that one party had returned. In the hut was picked
up a woman’s jacket, with a small net, left behind in the hurry of
departure, so it is probable they captured her while fishing on the
banks of some rivulet.
Though certain they had obtained captives, opinions were divided on the
subject of heads. I could find no traces, and old Japer agreed with me
that it was uncertain; but it would only be accidentally that we could
have discovered indications. They had left a mark, however, to show
their countrymen that they had been up the Salindong: it was a long
pole, ornamented with three tufts pointing up that stream. The three
tufts were supposed by many to show that they had obtained three heads
or captives; it might mean either. There were evidently two parties
out, and it is more than probable that there is one ahead of us; but
we should have little to fear from the crew of one tamui, even if they
took us by surprise. However, the men are taking every precaution; the
muskets are nightly inspected, discharged if suspected of being damp,
and kept ready at hand to be used at a moment’s notice. I have little
fear but that the heavy volley we could pour into an enemy would drive
them off without trouble.
Our course to-day has been principally through a limestone district,
though occasionally there is sandstone, as at the mouth of the Tuan
River. The general dip is to the E.N.E.; sometimes very steep, varying
from 21° to 53° and 56°. Though we worked to 3.45 p.m., staying only
an hour and a half for breakfast, we made comparatively but little
progress--not, perhaps, more than six miles, as last night’s rain
raised a sort of fresh, which was hard to contend against amid the
limestone rocks and steep banks. In fact, the last half mile took us
nearly two hours to accomplish: the limestone rocks were excessively
steep, and the river, being confined to a narrow bed, rushed like
a mill-sluice in many places. Now we found the use of our long
towing-ropes. After vainly endeavouring to pole along, we all but two
got out, and, crawling on to a tolerably even spot, passed the tow rope
round a tree, for fear the rush of waters should be too great for our
strength, and then hauled. At one place it took our whole united crews
to get my garei past a deep though dangerous rapid.
After two hours’ severe work, we managed to reach a spot which the men
considered we might safely bring up under; it is a point about forty
feet in height, that promises shelter in case of a heavy fresh, and we
may have that to-morrow, as the rain is pouring now. The advance of the
last half mile was entirely the men’s doing, as at the mouth of the
Tuan, by mismanagement, we got across the stream and came broadside on
to a sunken rock, which nearly upset us. After this I had no desire to
face the rush of waters ahead with tired men, and proposed stopping at
the Tuan, but they said it was not safe. I thought it the perfection of
a resting-place; rocks rising on either side, crowned by noble trees,
whose branches met above, forming a most beautiful and extensive bower.
Of course I was very unwilling to stop, when my followers wished to go
on: so I let them have their own way; but they said afterwards, had
they known what work was before them to get over the next half mile,
they would almost have run the risk of staying at the spot I pointed
out. It did, indeed, strain our muscles to make the advance.
We had a very narrow escape, also, from the stupidity of Orang Kaya
Upit. At one of the worst rapids that we were attempting to pole up, he
got across our bows; and, in trying to avoid running his frail sampir
under water, we let go our hold, and were swept back by the current at
an awful pace. The rebound of the waters from the rocks prevented our
going on them, and saved us from the smash most expected. The Orang
Kaya and his Muruts were very unpopular after this, and my men showed
great unwillingness to aid them; but, as they had assisted us in our
heavy work to get my garei past the rapid, I insisted upon doing the
same for them. To insure the execution of the order, I took the end of
the long towing-rope myself, and passed it round a tree, and put my
Malays on a grassy, but rocky point, which was completely free from
brushwood. There was no difficulty in hauling this light sampir up; but
the two Muruts left in it were clumsy, and, just as it was clear of the
rapid and approached the bank, nearly got their boat across the stream;
though it was swept against the rocks, it was too elastic to receive
much damage.
[Illustration:
T. Picken, lith.
Published by Smith, Elder & C^o. 65, Cornhill, London.
Day & Son, Lith^{rs}. to the Queen.
THE LIMBANG--HAULING PAST THE RAPIDS]
The wind has been from south-west all day, and therefore from Molu. We
have been advancing through very hilly country, which rises abruptly
from the bank: masses of rock continually overshadow the river, which
is now always confined to a very narrow space; it is therefore deeper
and more rapid. Occasionally there were dark pools, with no bottom with
our four-fathom poles. Old Japer missed, or only slightly wounded, a
kijang, a species of roe. Most unlucky sportsman!
_6th._--The expected fresh came on about one a.m.; and as it has
rained all the morning, the water will increase for many hours yet.
There is very good protection where we have secured our boats, though
the river has risen six feet since yesterday, and is now running like
a mill-sluice. We have met with so many obstructions and delays from
these freshes, that I begin to fear we shall not accomplish the object
of our expedition. I shall persevere until we have only three days’
provisions left. Food is the only difficulty, otherwise I would spend
three months in trying to reach the Adang Muruts. The rocks near our
encampment are both limestone and sandstone, the latter uppermost;
their dip is east, angle 82°. There appears to be too much disturbance
of rocks here to render any observations of much value, either with
regard to the stratification or the angle; the rocks are constantly
laminated. My men are employed in making towing-ropes of twisted
rattans; the one for the garei is strong enough to hold a schooner,
but we may want them in the bad rapids. Yesterday we trembled once or
twice, fearing our tow-ropes would part.
At 4 p.m.--The river has not fallen more than two and a half feet since
I marked it at nine a.m. If it rain to-night, we shall lose another day.
It is a cold evening; the gusts of wind occasionally driving the
drizzly rain before it; so I have asked the Muruts to come and have
a glass of whiskey with me. We have had a couple of hours’ talk, and
they have told me innumerable anecdotes of their own lives. Orang Kaya
Upit mentioned an event which occurred to himself not many years ago.
His father and mother-in-law were invited to a feast by the Orang Kaya
Apo: there was great drinking, and at night most of the drunken guests
slept in the house. After some hours, Apo got up and killed Upit’s two
relations in their sleep; perhaps, in revenge of some old injury.
Upit immediately brought his complaint to the Sultan, but no attention
was paid to him. At last one of the men about the court said, “Why
don’t you revenge yourself?” The Sultan laughed, and repeated, “Ah, why
don’t you?” Upit upon this went home and prepared his arms, and for
two years lay in wait in all sorts of places, but he could never find
Apo off his guard. One day, however, he met him in the Trusan river,
returning from the Sultan’s palace, and shot him through the body,
and took his head. Upon this, the Sultan fined him a hundred pikuls
of brass guns (3,000 dols.), not for killing Apo, but for disrespect
to him in shooting a man who had lately left his palace, though the
deed took place twenty miles away. Upit, by great exertions, and by
the assistance of all the neighbouring villages, paid a portion of the
fine. It is an illustration of Bornean government.
_7th._--It appeared a beautiful night, but towards morning it
rained heavily. I turned round in my bed, and made up my mind to lose
another day; but at dawn, finding the river not so rapid as I expected,
I pushed off a few minutes after six a.m., and after an hour’s heavy
work, was rewarded by finding the hills gradually receding from the
banks, thus allowing the river freer scope. As might be imagined, this
was a sign that we had passed the limestone district; gradually it
gave way to sandstone, and with it a more open country. The river soon
became broader, but shallower; and though it necessitated hard work, it
was not to be compared to the difficulties we overcame on the 5th.
During our progress up this river we have kept very much along the
banks, and have had to take great care not to shake snakes into our
boat. These reptiles are constantly found concealed amid the foliage of
fruit-trees, or lying quietly along the branches to catch unwary birds
which seek their food there. In fact, their colours so much resemble
those of the trees, that it is often difficult to distinguish them.
Musa one day pointed to a tree and said, “There is a large snake.” I
could not see it, but on his pointing to it with his sword, I noticed
a brown creature thicker than my arm, coiled round a bough, with its
head resting near a bunch of fruit, waiting the arrival of some unwary
Pargam, the splendid green pigeon of these forests. It looked exactly
of the colour of the bough on which it was resting, and the green
snakes are equally difficult to detect. There is one with large regular
scales, and a triangular head, which is the dread of the native, and if
its poisonous qualities equal its offensive look, it must be a venomous
one indeed. These unpleasant neighbours are, however, rarely seen,
though pretty green flower snakes may be occasionally noticed among
the bushes, or gliding over the blossoms on the look out for insects.
One of a bright green with yellow stripes down its sides is no doubt
a beautiful object, but I dislike snakes of every kind. My men, who
appear to have as strong an antipathy to them, cut at them on every
occasion with their swords.
Land tortoises are continually dropping from the overhanging trunks of
trees as they hear the noise of our paddles. We were once much startled
by a large animal springing from a high bough, and falling with a
heavy splash within a few feet of our boat: it turned out to be a huge
biawak, or guana, which, being alarmed, thus made his escape. The guana
is a species of lizard, growing to a great length, and is the enemy
of our poultry. My dogs once killed one in Brunei which measured six
feet six inches in length. The whole pack attacked it; and while it
was endeavouring to save its tail, a bold dog seized it by the throat,
and held it tight, while the rest of the pack destroyed it. It is the
only instance I have known of dogs facing so large a biawak; but they
were of English breed, and all were ultimately killed by their unwary
attacks on the wild pigs.
The biawaks used very often to pay us a visit at Sarawak, as there
was an extensive poultry yard, and their presence in the day-time was
always announced by the loud cackling of the fowls; if it were a small
one, the cocks and hens would gather round it, and make feigned attacks
upon it, and the beast, almost bewildered by the cries of the circle
of enemies, would raise its head high and take a survey of them, as if
choosing which he should seize. We once succeeded in approaching almost
close to one, thinking we could catch him, as the ground was free from
brushwood, but it quickly outran us, disappearing down a neighbouring
ravine. The Chinese are very fond of its flesh, considering it very
delicate eating.
I have also often been disturbed by the cackling of the fowls, and
going to discover the cause, have found them attacking a snake which
has unwarily ventured in their neighbourhood. I one day saw about
twenty large Cochin cocks and hens surrounding some object, and
approaching near, saw it was a fine cobra, about six feet in length.
The reptile had its head raised nearly a foot, and was making slight
darts at the fowls which ventured near, but unable to do much, for as
soon as it attempted to move, several pecks were made at its tail.
A friend who was standing near, knocked the snake on the head, and
immediately all the inhabitants of the poultry-yard set upon it and
tore it to pieces.
After nine hours’ severe poling and hauling, we came to a stop for the
night at 4.25 p.m. I was desirous to reach the Madihit, but the men
were too exhausted to proceed farther. We have not had a bearing of
Molu for some time; we are anxious for it, in order to determine our
position. I got out all the salt fish that was left, and divided it
among the men, to whom it was most acceptable, as they had had nothing
but rice for many days.
After we had finished our supper, I called the whole party together to
discuss our future proceedings. I explained to them the information
I had been enabled to collect from the Muruts; that we might reach
the Adang landing-place by water, but that as we advanced the country
became more difficult; and that, in the present state of the river, it
was impracticable to face the rapids; that if we attempted the water
way and failed, we must return home, as it was quite impossible to walk
along its bank; the hills were too lofty and far too steep; in fact, no
one would ever attempt it who knew anything of the country. The second
plan was to ascend the Madihit, which could not be very far off--a
mile or two--then leave our boats, and walk across, the Murut guides
assuring us that we could do the distance in seven days. I put it to
the whole party to consider. Musa, after a short consultation, said
they would prefer walking to facing even seven days of such work as we
had had; and as it was two or three days from the Adang landing-place
to the houses, it was better to start at once from the Madihit, leaving
the principal portion of our heavy baggage with the boats. My heart was
slightly despondent yesterday, but to-day’s progress has completely
cheered me up.
Just at sunset, we noticed a few flying foxes far up in the sky; they
seemed very numerous, but were almost beyond view. Sometimes, however,
they fly low, pursuing their onward course with steady flapping wings.
For two hours I watched them at the entrance of the Sibuyau river,
passing us by tens of thousands, and all flying in one direction,
doubtless towards some place where they rest at night. While preparing
their tents, my men disturbed a huge frog that appeared about nine
inches long; it was of a dark gray colour. I was assured, however, that
a full-grown frog was double this size, and if one could judge of their
dimensions by their noise, when they are heard in a marsh, one might
readily believe the Muruts’ account. I remember hearing the late Mr.
Hayes of Siam say that he had seen them there with bodies as large as a
full-sized dinner plate.
_8th._--We found the Madihit to be two miles farther up on the
left bank. The main stream continues broad, and is furnished with
islands and immense pebbly flats, reminding me of the portion near
the Madalam at very low water. The hills are now at some distance
apart, allowing broader and flatter strips of cultivatable land along
the banks. Our last night’s resting-place was quite a level point; we
brought up a little above it, under a jutting portion of the bank,
which was higher, and near it was a beautiful natural bower which would
have afforded shelter for all our boats, had the stream risen high;
some of the men encamped in it. The Madihit, a short distance from the
mouth, is but a shallow, pebbly torrent; and a little more than half
a mile up we were obliged to leave our large garei, and take to the
sampirs, most of the men following along the banks; and now, less than
two miles farther, we have to leave our boats, and take to walking.
We noticed a very handsome tree, whose trunk shoots out almost
horizontally from the banks: its branches rise perpendicularly into the
air, but let fall on either side rows of long drooping twigs, covered
with elegant foliage. It was loaded with fruit, whose long wings are of
a beautiful pink colour, and amid this forest it had a gorgeous effect.
I believe it is of the order _Dipterocarpæ_. There is another very
remarkable one which grows on rocky soil; its bark strips naturally
from the trunk, leaving a brightish brick-red stem.
We have passed yesterday and to-day much young jungle; indeed, except
where the hills are steep, there are few old trees. The fish are very
plentiful in the river, but the rapidity of the stream prevents the
net from acting properly. Just before entering the Madihit, I noticed
a range of high hills, bearing south-east, said to be called the Paya
Paya in Malay, the very difficult hills, and round their base the
Limbang ran.
No rain last night or to-day. I find it impossible to continue writing,
from the cloud of sand-flies that are tormenting me. Having made a
smoky fire, I am at last rid of them. I have divided the remainder of
the rice, and find that the careful men have enough for seven or eight
days, while the improvident have not enough for five; so that they must
carry sago; and, to my regret, Ahtan reports that all my tinmeats are
left at home, but I have enough biscuit for seven days; in fact, I
shall leave some behind me for the journey back. Our sportsmen again
missed both a deer and a pig; so that, after having had every day
many chances, nothing has been secured, though we have with us two of
the most famous hunters in the Limbang. I never had a shot myself, as
my heavy boat was generally behind the others. The rock that forms
the base of many of these karañgans or pebbly rapids is a dark gray
sandstone. By the barometer, we are 637 feet above the level of the
sea, and as we have been toiling up rapids since we left the Damit
stream, it accounts for this elevation.
The men have been working away, forming a cache for the things that we
must leave behind: it is raised on four poles, so as to be quite secure
from pigs.
To show how extensively the Chinese formerly spread over the country, I
may notice that they had pepper plantations even up the Madihit as late
as the remembrance of some of the oldest Muruts.
CHAPTER IV.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_continued_.
Start on the Land Journey--Our Course--Ascend the Rawan
Torrent--Attacked by Hornets--Native Remedy--Severe Effect of
Sting--Disturbed by Ants--Japer left behind--Fresh Traces of
Strangers in the Forest--Appearance of the Country--Water Snake
killed--Our Adventure with One--The Swimming Cobra--Romantic
but timely Meeting--Story of Pangeran Mumein and the Murut
Concubine--Malay Revenge--Punishment of an Offender--Cause
of the Borneans being converted to Mahomedanism--Capturing
the Daughter of Johore--Independent Position of the Pablat
Borneans--Reach the Wax-seekers’ Hut--Flesh of the Wild
Boar--The Adang Muruts--Their Sumpitans--The Poison on the
Arrows--Melted in hot Water--Weapons purchased, not made
by them--Dress of the Muruts--Japer rejoins us--Continue
our Journey with new Guide--Method of catching Fish--Effect
of Loss of Blood by Leeches--Extraordinary Insect--The
Freshwater Turtle--Its Description--Curious Fly--Poisoning
the River--Getting short of Provisions--Galton’s Method of
dividing Food--Adopt it--Improvidence of the Malays--Cry
of the Wahwah--Rejoin the Limbang--Omen Bird--Prepare for
Enemies--Quarrel among the Guides--Divide the Party--Hard
Walking--The Otter--A Fight with my Dogs--Still beyond the
Mountain--Find good Huts--The Stragglers--The last of the
Food--Ascend the Mountains--Exhaustion of the Guides--The
Remains of the Ham--Its Effects--Reach the Summit--Descend to
the Farms--Meet the Adang Muruts--Hearty Welcome--Names--Recent
History of these Villagers--Kayan Attacks--Driven from the
Limbang--The Geography of the Country--The Houses--Cold, and
Fire-places--Arrival of my Followers--Sir James Brooke--The
Friend of the Aborigines--His Fame had preceded me--How Reports
spread--The Tigers’ Cave--Curious Story.
_10th._--I was so stung by hornets yesterday that I was unable to
write in my journal, and even now it is a work of difficulty. After
some trouble, I got the sampirs hauled up on the bank, to be beyond the
reach of freshes; and all the things we intended to leave behind were
carefully stowed away. The sago we left in the boats, none of the men
choosing to burden themselves with any of it, though I warned them not
to take less than seven days’ provisions, but all warnings were useless.
Having divided the packages, we got away at 9.15, and started in an
easterly direction for about an hour and a quarter, then southerly
for about two hours, when we joined the small stream of Rawan. Our
course led us from one bank to the other of the Madihit, crossing and
recrossing it nearly every reach, a most fatiguing operation, and
trying to one’s feet, over slippery sandstone rocks and pebbles. The
forest, though principally consisting of small trees, is tolerably
clear, and presented no particular difficulties, nor was it so infested
by leeches as in the neighbourhood of Molu. At 12.30 we began to ascend
a steep valley (easterly), generally making the bed of the Rawan our
path. A mountain torrent never affords very easy walking, and three
of our men were so fatigued that at 3.15, after six hours’ walking, I
consented to encamp.
It was in following the bed of the Rawan that I was stung. Notice was
given by the guide to leave the direct path, and we all did; but I
suppose some one disturbed the hornets, as they attacked me with a
ferocity that appears incredible: many flew at me, but two fixed on my
arms and stung me through my double clothing. They poised themselves a
moment in the air, and then came on with a rush that it was impossible
to avoid. The pain was acute, but I saved my face. I tumbled down the
steep bank in a moment, and, throwing aside rifle and ammunition,
plunged up to my eyes in a pool, until the buzzing ceased, and the
hornets had returned to their nests.
Some of my men were also stung; they squeezed a little tobacco juice on
the wounds, and they say they felt no further inconvenience. I tried it
about an hour afterwards, but it did me no good. I had no idea that the
sting of this insect was so severe: my right arm swelled up to double
its natural size, and was acutely painful; now, on the second day, it
is much less so, but as the swelling continues, it is impossible to use
it much. In the night we were again unfortunate, being attacked by the
selimbada, a most poisonous ant, which quickly drove us from the tents,
and compelled us to take refuge on a small pebbly flat near the stream.
Fortunately for us it was a fine star-light sky, as we had to spend
the remainder of the night there. I have called the sting poisonous;
it is scarcely that, as, though the pain is acute, it has but little
permanent effect. The little sleep I had was due to the last bottle of
porter that remained. My men were so heavily laden, that had I brought
a stock of drinkables, I could not have had them carried. I have with
me but a couple of bottles of whisky and one of brandy.
Having put my right arm, the most painful, into a sling, I was enabled
to make a start with the rest of the party, except Japer, who had
an attack of elephantiasis. So leaving two volunteers with him, we
continued our course; they promising to follow as soon as possible
after the fit was over; they will easily catch our loaded men. I would
gladly have stayed behind myself, as my arms were in a very unfit state
to be used, and I was compelled to carry my rifle in my left hand; but
the fear of running short of provisions made me push on. Having left
the tents at 7.30, we soon commenced ascending hills. Our course was
at first S.W., but on reaching the summit of a ridge, we followed it
to the S.S.E. The guides had some difficulty in discovering the path,
which was completely overgrown. We found traces, however, of recent
visitors.
Leaving the ridge, we descended a stream called Patra, where the guide
said he wished us to remain while he went ahead to look for the path;
so that, very unwillingly, I brought up at twelve, and our guide
started to explore. One of the traces we found in the course of our
walk was quite fresh, a human footstep in the mud, not a couple of
hours old, and many broken branches. This caused as great excitement
as ever Robinson Crusoe could have felt when he discovered the one on
the sand; and the whole party collected to examine it. One man ventured
to observe, “Perhaps there are enemies in the neighbourhood.” At this
I laughed, and suggested it might be a wax-hunter, who, having caught
sight of us, has started off to give notice of the approach of our
formidable party: the twenty muskets must make it look formidable to
him.
Our path to-day was rather difficult, as we had to ascend many steep
hills, and sometimes to move along their faces, which is tiresome
walking: it is only on the ridges that our advance is pleasant. We had
a view of the Molu range through the trees, and also saw many other
mountain ranges, but no sign of those extensive plains that we were
promised; perhaps, however, we have not penetrated far enough into the
country. No portion of Molu appears to drain into the Limbang, except
through the Madalam, the waters of its southern and western faces being
carried off by the Tutu and the Millanau into the Baram. I have been
trying to find some flowers for Mr. Low, but we have as yet seen none,
except of the most trifling description. The waters of the Patra are
very muddy, there evidently having been a landslip in its upper course,
in fact I observed one to-day that left the surface of a whole hill
quite bare. Our Muruts have just killed a large rock snake; they are
now cleaning it preparatory to its forming a portion of their dinner.
They surprised their snake basking in the sun and cut off its head:
but some time before we were ascending a waterfall, and while looking
at some flowers, a friend accidentally touched a gray rock-snake that
lay lazily extended across our path; I saw him spring aside, and had
but a moment to get out of the way, as the reptile dashed past. On our
return, while choosing a good pool to bathe, we observed the snake,
which was about twelve feet long, vainly endeavouring to escape up a
rock, and finding it could not, it made a dash at us. We thought at the
time that it meant to attack us, but probably it was only an endeavour
to effect an escape. We drove it back with boughs to the deep pool
before us, and then hurled large stones at it till it seemed to be
dead; but on descending to the water to get out the body to examine,
it had disappeared, diving into some hole or crevice in the rock.
The Malays have a great dread of most kind of snakes, but this they
especially dislike.
The cobra is, however, the most disagreeable one, particularly when
met with in the water; one tried to swim across the river just below
our boat; as soon as he saw us, he directed his course our way, not,
I believe, to attack us, but simply as something to rest on; but my
men in great alarm gave way, and escaped the beast. I have heard men
say, that the cobra will not be frightened back by beating the water
with the paddles, but must be killed, or it will enter the boat; if it
succeed in doing so every Malay would instantly spring into the water
and leave their canoe to drift away.
4 p.m.--Our guide has just returned, and brought with him the man whose
traces have kept us on the _qui vive_. Our guide says that after
walking about half an hour, he was hailed, and after a distant parley,
the man approached, and to their mutual astonishment they found that
they were countrymen, and that it was, in fact, his brother-in-law, in
order to visit whose sister he had joined our party, the gay gentleman
having left his young wife to go and seek his fortune and another wife
in the neighbourhood of Brunei. Such meetings sometimes take place
in romance, but seldom in real life. The stranger is one of a large
party who are now pig-hunting in the neighbourhood, so that my chief
fear--that we should not find our way--has left me. We may get a deer,
as these hunters have just secured a pig. The new comer says he thought
we were a party of head-hunters, therefore, did not make himself known
to us. He followed us for some time, and felt a great inclination to
send a poisoned arrow amongst us; but that we were too strong. Very
fortunate for him he did not do so, or it might have fared ill with him.
_11th._--Our guide left us again last night to join the wax-seekers,
and we are now waiting his return. I will enter the following story
while fresh in my memory. The Pañgeran Mumein, the Shabandar’s eldest
son, took a Murut girl as a concubine; she, however, was to stay with
her father up country. He paid, as a bri-an or marriage portion, a
pikul of bedil (133 pounds of brass guns). When she had had her first
child, he, as usual, got tired of her, and told her father he did not
want her any more, unless she liked to follow him to Brunei. This was
objected to. A few days after, he said he should fine the father for
not allowing him to take the girl to Brunei, where he would have sold
her as a slave. He made the father pay him back the pikul of guns, as
well as two more pikuls, and then said, “Your daughter may marry whom
she pleases.”
After some time, she married one of her own countrymen. Pangeran Mumein
hearing of this, in a most unaccountable fit of jealousy, determined
to kill them all, and gave orders to Orang Kaya Upit to seize them.
The Orang Kaya hid himself, so the Pangeran was obliged to employ the
Bisayas, who caught the husband and brought him to the noble. He had
him tied up to the Orang Kaya’s landing-place, and there cut him to
pieces with his own hand, taking his head and giving it as a present to
the Gadong Muruts. The father and girl escaped. The Pangeran remains
unpunished, probably unblamed. Of course, there are two sides to the
story: he declares he had not separated from the girl.
The following is an instance of the punishment of an offender:--Salam,
of Bukit Manis, together with his brother and his son, was accused of
stealing buffaloes, and doubtless had done so, but acting generally as
an agent of Mumein’s in his rascalities. The Sultan, wearied of the
constant complaints against Salam, gave orders that he should be put
to death: his house was immediately surrounded and fired into, and
his brother and son killed. He then came out into his garden, begging
that he might be taken to Brunei to be executed; but after they had
induced him to throw away his sword, and fasten his own hands with his
handkerchief, so that he could not immediately seize his weapon, they
rushed in and cut him down. Difference of rank, difference of treatment.
There is an old Pablat man with us named Bujang: he says that the
people of his kampong, or parish, as well as those of Burong Piñg-e,
descend from Muruts, and that they turned Mahomedans shortly after they
captured the daughter of the Sultan of Johore. This is the tradition or
history: they were, as usual, cruising down the Gulf of Siam, looking
out for prey, when they observed a prahu, gaily dressed out with
banners, pulling along the coast. They gave chase, and soon came up
with her, and found the daughter of the Sultan of Johore, surrounded by
a bevy of pretty attendants; they seized them and carried them off to
Brunei, and presented the lady to their chief, who married her.
When the father heard of it, he sent a great deputation of nobles to
entreat the Murut to turn Mahomedan, and marry his daughter according
to the custom of that religion. He made no difficulty, but, on the
contrary, invited the nobles to remain and take wives in the country.
Many did, and it soon became a great rendezvous for the Malays; in
fact, the other twenty kampongs are descended from odds and ends of
strangers, together with their wives, taken among the aborigines. The
rajahs all say they are of Johore descent.
Bujang affirms that the Pablats muster nearly a thousand fighting men;
and that, with the Kadayans, or Mahomedans of the Hills, they have an
offensive and defensive alliance, which enables them to hold their
own, and not be treated as the other kampongs are. He was very proud
that they would not suffer the rajahs to take their women, except
with the parents’ consent. It is a fact that an unbetrothed girl, of
decent appearance, can never be kept by her parents. A rajah sees her,
and orders her to be sent to his harïm, that he may honour her by
taking her as a concubine. They, therefore, betroth their children in
childhood, and then they are usually safe. He says, and the Bisayas
have a similar tradition, that Brunei was formerly a lake, that burst
through into the sea near the island of Iñgaran.
3 p.m.--We have only walked two hours and a half to-day, as, when we
arrived at the hut of the Adang hunters, our Muruts were unwilling to
go farther, hoping to come in for a very good share of the flesh of
the wild pig that was hung up around: so we stopped, though anxious to
get to a river. It is a great luxury, after a walk, to get a bathe in
a fresh, running stream. Now we are encamped on an elevation of 3,000
feet, with only a very tiny spring of water near. With the party of
Adang Muruts there is an old chief who has agreed to return with us to
his village, leaving his young men to gather honey and wax. The few
Adangs that we have met have rather a heavy, forbidding appearance,
except the old chief and another.
Nearly all of this party of hunters were armed with sumpitans, which
were as usual of dark hard red wood, and had a spear-head, lashed on
very neatly with rattans on one side of the muzzle, and an iron sight
on the other. The arrows were carried in very neatly-carved bamboo
cases, and were themselves but slips of wood, tipped with spear-shaped
heads cut out of bamboo. The poison looks like a translucent gum, of a
rich brown colour; and when dipped into water of a temperature of one
hundred and fifty degrees, it began to melt immediately; but on being
withdrawn and placed over the flame of a lighted candle, it instantly
became hard again. The butt of the arrow is fixed in a round piece of
the pith of a palm, which fits the bore of the blow-pipe. The natives
say also, that the juice from one kind of creeper is even more virulent
than that of the upas. On inquiry, I find that none of the people of
these countries can manufacture the sumpitan themselves, but purchase
them from traders, who procure them at Bintulu and Rejang from the
wild Punans and Pakatans, and are therefore very dear, and highly
prized, and no price offered will induce a man to part with a favourite
sumpitan.
These Muruts were furnished with war jackets and helmets. The former
were well padded, and thickly covered over with cowrie shells; the
latter was of the same material, with flaps hanging, so as to protect
the wearer’s neck from poisoned arrows. I heard that the supplying of
cowrie shells formed a sort of trade in the Trusan districts. These
Muruts, like those seen near the coast, often wear their hair tied
in a knot behind, and keep it in its place by a great pin, fashioned
something like a spear-head both in size as well as in appearance,
which is made, according to the means of the wearer, either of brass or
of bamboo.
Our walk to-day presented no feature of interest: a stiff climb to
a narrow ridge, and then along it rising gradually to the hunter’s
temporary hut. We but occasionally got glimpses of the country through
the trees, and it presents one general view of forest, covering hill
and valley. If we are to take such short walks as these, the journey
will be an easy one indeed. I did not regret our little progress
to-day, as it enabled old Japer to come up with us, his acute attack
having left him. I never was in such a country for bees: they
everywhere swarm in the most disagreeable manner, and ants and other
insects are equally numerous.
_12th._--There was much thunder and lightning last night, with
rain; but, notwithstanding the continued drizzle, I got away before
seven, the chief sending his son. Our walk was more direct to-day,
as the path was well known to the guide, he having just used it. The
course was generally in a S. by E. direction; on the whole, over a very
similar country to yesterday; got no view whatever. We crossed numerous
streams, as the Sañgin, Ropan, and Gritang, and have now stopped at a
very pleasant one, the Lemilang, encamping on a high bank about 100
feet above it (900 feet above the level of the sea). We have done more
work to-day, walking more than six hours. Noticed some tracks of the
tambadau. The Kalio hills, perhaps 5,500 feet high, have been on our
left all day. The most active man I have ever seen is a young Murut,
who walked part of the way with us to-day: he had a perfect figure, and
is the only pleasant-looking man besides the chief that belonged to the
party of hunters.
_13th._--I have little to enter, except that we walked five hours
south-east, then four east, then another north, passing over the same
kind of country as usual. The only noticeable event was catching some
fine fish in the Madihit, just below the junction of the Rapaw and
the Obar. The operation is simple: stones are hurled into a pool in
the river; the fish fly for concealment under the stones and to the
holes in the rocks; the men jump in and soon bring them out of their
hiding-places. They caught five large and above a dozen small fish; one
was eighteen inches long, and very fat. Ahtan was successful in getting
a fine one, which he is at present engaged in cooking, so that we shall
each dine off half of it to-night. The scales are very large; it is the
same kind as I have previously noticed in the Madalam and Tampasuk.
After this good fortune, we crossed the river, and ascended the steep
hill of Pakong Lubfing, till we reached a little rivulet running into
the Obar. I really believe that the great loss of blood from leeches is
the cause of the faintness I feel to-night; I have pushed off hundreds,
and the wounds continue to bleed for some time. Perhaps this, and
the very heavy day’s work, may account for the strong disinclination
I feel to write my journal. The Muruts are beginning to be full of
dismal stories of enemies, saying they have suffered much lately
from the attacks of neighbouring tribes, who have shot at them with
their poisoned arrows, many dying, including some women and children.
However, there is not much reliance to be placed in such stories when
told in the woods. During the evening a very disagreeable-looking
insect kept attacking my candle. It looked like a dead but branched
twig, and an ordinary observer would scarcely notice the difference
till he saw it move; its legs are represented by four dead branches.
There is another more common, that has wings like a couple of bright
green leaves. (Our camp 1,500 feet.)
The Murut guides are but scantily provided with food, and search
eagerly for snakes, tortoises, and fresh-water turtle. The last would
be a grand find, as it is often three feet long, without including
the head and neck: its upper shell and chest are covered with a soft
skin, large openings being left for the limbs, each of which has five
fingers, three of them armed with thin but strong claws, those on the
thumbs being the largest; the fourth and fifth fingers have no claws,
and their joints are such as to admit of much movement in a lateral
direction, particularly the fifth, which, when the fin is distended,
is at right angles to the first three. The back is of an uniform dark
gray; the upper part of the head dark olive green, mottled with yellow
spots; the nose is prolonged into a non-retractile, pointed soft snout,
about an inch in length, and the nostrils are rather large; the tail
is about three inches long and very fleshy. Its stomach, when opened,
often contains many kinds of fruits, particularly wild figs and some
large kernels, which, though not harder than filberts, pass unbroken
through his horny jaws, which appear, however, well adapted for cutting
up food of this consistence. I may add, that the lower part of its
neck is covered with a fold of loose cartilaginous skin, into which it
withdraws its head, with the exception of the pig-like snout.
_14th._--Walked to-day seven hours in a general east-north-east
direction; in fact, from the range that separates the Madihit waters
from the Limbang, the Adang mountains were pointed out, bearing
east-north-east. We had a distant view of some high peaks, bearing
due south, said to be those in the interior of Baram. We had also a
tolerable view of the Molu range, which enabled me to fix our position.
I found to-day, just as we were crossing the ridge, one of the most
curious insects I have ever seen; it appeared like a gigantic moth,
above four inches in length, and was of a brown colour, with a band of
bright green just across its neck; although it had the look of a moth,
on closer examination it looked like a great horse-fly. I have little
to enter to-day, as the walking has been over the same style of ground,
and there has been no incident to vary the ordinary routine. We pass a
good many abandoned huts, with an occasional deer-skin hanging up to
dry, the mark of the hunter; and, to our great disappointment, we find
the same men have been poisoning the river with the beaten out roots
of the tuba plant, capturing all the good fish near the encampment.
Some of the hungry ones strayed farther down, and saw several of a
very large kind, but they escaped into such deep holes that it was
impossible to get them out.
I am afraid our provisions are drawing to a close. I see some hungry
looks and other symptoms of uncomfortableness among about half the
men--all their own fault. The careful have still two days’ rice; three,
if they did not assist their companions: the greedy ones have been
trusting to my biscuits. However, as I could not sit down to my dinner
of plain boiled rice with so many envying me, I told my servant to take
sufficient for ourselves, and then divide the remainder of the biscuits
into twenty-three heaps. I remembered Galton’s plan, and making one
of the men turn his back to the little piles, I pointed to a heap,
and he cried out a name; so that they were fairly and without favour
distributed.
The non-careful men were very disappointed with this plan; they thought
I should have only given those that had no rice a share, but that I
explained to them would be encouraging improvidence. A similar thing
occurred when I lost my boat at Molu. The men, rather than carry
rice, preferred trusting to jungle produce, vainly hoping we could
do three days’ work in one. We are encamped on the Urud, a tributary
of the Limbang. The highest point crossed to-day was 2,500 feet: our
present elevation is about 1,400 feet, after many ups and downs. One
of the most melancholy sounds in the forest is the cry of the wahwah,
and after sunset it sounded near us, to be answered by a disconsolate
companion not very far off.
_15th._--An hour’s walk brought us to the Limbang, whose bed is
here, perhaps, seventy yards wide, very shallow, not reaching to the
hip. It flowed from the Siliñgid mountains, and is said, after skirting
their western face, to turn to the south-east to its sources in Lawi.
Si Nuri, one of our guides, pretended to hear a bad bird, and wanted
to return, though we were all struggling against the stream in the
middle of the river. As this was the second time he had done it to-day,
I would not stand it, so ordered him over; however, to satisfy timid
minds, I had the guns discharged, cleaned, and reloaded. He said his
añgei (omen bird) told him there was fighting at his house. We then
continued to Suñgei Kapaw, where we stopped to eat our breakfast. The
old chief’s son was very much astonished by the rapidity and accuracy
of fire of one of the revolving carbines. He had never seen any
fire-arms, unless they were common flint muskets.
Shortly after again starting, I observed a commotion among the guides,
and was told that the new man and Si Nuri, his brother-in-law, wanted
us to take a roundabout way, to avoid a country swarming, they said,
with enemies, who would shoot at us from the jungle. This would entail
the loss of another day, and the climbing of an extra high mountain.
We preferred the enemies to the extra work, as our food will be all
finished to-morrow; so the two guides left us, and one of the remaining
Adang men undertook to find a road. It struck me afterwards that it was
merely a dispute about whose house we should go to first. The Orang
Kaya Upit and four followers wanted naturally to go to their relatives,
while Si Nuri was anxious to get as quickly as possible to see his wife
and relations; but as he could speak little Malay, I did not understand
his explanation.
Our new guide, turning north for a short time, soon brought us to the
Ropo, a branch of the Limbang, which is, perhaps, a third less than
the main stream. From thence we continued our course north, climbing
up a steep mountain, about 2,500 feet in height; then turning to the
north-east, we continued that course till 4.10 p.m., when we reached
the Bapangal stream. Including all stoppages and petty rests, we walked
about six hours and a half, and made about eight miles. From near the
summit of the high hill we had a view of some fresh clearings which
appeared about seven miles off in a north-east direction. The villages
are said to be on the other side of the clearings, beyond a low hill.
As we must have approached these farms three miles, we cannot have
more than eight miles of walking before us; at all events, I shall do
my utmost to reach the houses to-morrow night, whether the men follow
or not, as after the biscuit division last night I have only rice for
to-morrow, coffee, and the remains of a bad China ham. Just as we were
crossing the Ropo, an animal slipt quietly into the water, which I
think was an otter. A few days before leaving my house, I was witness
of a desperate fight between my dogs and a very fierce female otter.
They had surrounded a pool, and kept her in it, but as it was very
shallow a dog would dash in and make a snap at her; at last she seized
one by the nose, and would not let go; the dog, a very small English
terrier, did not utter a cry, but struggled towards the bank, when the
whole pack fell upon the enemy, and tore it to pieces. Yet in death, it
did not let go its hold, and to free the dog’s nose its jaws had to be
forced open with a spear-head. (Resting-place 1,300 feet.)
_16th._--Walking on till 4.30, after eight hours of regular hard
work, we have not reached the Adang villages, but have a prospect of
doing so to-morrow. We have only the range of mountains to cross:
yesterday’s clearings and low hills we have passed. When at 4.30 I sat
down on a rock, with the rain pouring down in torrents, and the men
standing shivering around me, I could not but feel a little despondent
when I asked the guide where were the houses, and he replied over that
high mountain: but observing the men were watching me, I burst out
laughing, a very unnatural sound it seemed, and said I thought the
Adang dwellings had vanished in the clouds.
Presently the Orang Kaya Upit came stealing back and said he had found
two fresh huts that belonged to a Murut tribe with whom they were at
war, that we must instantly retrace our steps half a mile at least,
and pitch our tents there. I was in a very bad mood to receive such a
proposition and told him that if the devil himself lived in those huts,
I would make him give me a share of them to-night, and told him to lead
the way. Tired as he was, I could scarcely persuade him that I was in
earnest; but, calling on my Malays to follow, we soon made an advance
towards the dreaded spot, and then, after twice attempting to lead us
astray, the Orang Kaya brought us to the huts, which had evidently not
been vacated many hours; perhaps after they had got a distinct view
of our party. The ashes of the fires were still warm, and we had no
difficulty in rekindling them.
As the rain continued to descend in torrents, we were pleased indeed to
find warm dry quarters, and having extended the tent from one of the
huts, there was room for all. As old Japer and four of the men had not
reached us by half-past five, we discharged our fire-arms one after
the other to give them notice of our whereabouts, in case they were
wandering within hearing. It likewise served the purpose of intimating
to the Muruts concealed about that we were not head-hunters, these
seeking concealment and not publicity. My best men having assisted the
improvident have but a poor meal to-night. Our walk to-day was over
very uneven ground, steep hills and numerous streams, among others the
true Adang. The last candle is going out, so I finish.
_17th._ and _18th._--My journal did not reach me till this
evening, so I must enter the two days together. Japer did not make his
appearance during the night. At dawn, finding I had a small biscuit
a-man left, I shared them out, and then started off at 6.30, hoping to
reach the houses, and from thence send assistance to the stragglers.
I gave notice that I expected no man to wait for his neighbour, but
to push on and do the best he could for himself. Our route at first
lay over the low ground that skirts the foot of the mountain, then
up a tolerably easy ascent, one of the spurs of the Adang range,
that appears to run north and south. After half an hour’s walking, I
observed the guides dart to an old tree; I followed, and we were soon
occupied in devouring mushrooms; after this slight repast, we continued
our course.
About 10 a.m. four of the Muruts dropped their heavy burdens, intending
to return for them next day, and started off at a running pace. I
was following when I heard Ahtan’s soft voice say, “May I come too,
sir?” I said, “Yes, if you can keep up.” This was very well for a few
hundred yards; when, to my surprise, I found a Murut drop behind, then
the Orang Kaya; at last the remaining guide stretched himself on his
back, and said he was done up. I tried all I could to rouse them, but
with no effect, until the arrival of the fifth Murut, who was one of
the baggage train, with half a ham, the last of the provisions, and
not good food unsoaked, without a drop of water for miles, but I told
the Muruts that if they would try and reach the top of the mountain I
would then cook and divide it.
This roused two, and after much trouble we arrived at the first peak,
there we stopped; a fire was lit, and with a chopper we divided the ham
into great bits. While cooking we shouted to the other three Muruts to
make haste, and presently we heard the Orang Kaya begging us not to
begin till he arrived. As none of the Malays would touch it, we divided
the meat into seven portions, and they were soon devoured skin and all,
and the bones crushed for the marrow, Ahtan and myself eagerly joining
in the meal and securing our share. For a fortnight we had lived on
very unsubstantial food, and the great exercise we were taking gave us
appetites that scorned being satisfied with simple boiled rice.
A few minutes after the meal was over, the Muruts gave a grunt
of satisfaction and started off, and continued ascending till we
had reached the height of 5,000 feet; where we struck off to the
north-east, down to a dashing torrent, one of the feeders of the Trusan
river; here we bathed, then off again up a very steep hill. This was
too much for Ahtan. He turned an imploring look on me, and seemed ready
to burst into tears; but I spoke to him very angrily, asking him if at
the last moment he intended to disgrace himself, and relieving him of
my sword, he pushed on, and in a few minutes we were at the summit.
Here we sat down for half an hour; then on, generally descending,
sometimes excessively steep, and it was with the greatest pleasure that
at 5.30 p.m. I found myself at the edge of a great clearing, still
burning, with two village houses at its eastern verge.
Our guides had a short consultation as to how we should announce
ourselves to the people, whom we could perceive working on the farms.
At length Orang Kaya Upit shouted out. There was immediately a great
commotion among the Muruts, but they soon recognized the voices, and,
as we forced our way through the tangled trees that were felled in
every direction, they came forward to welcome my companions. They
soon explained who I was, and I was received with great civility and
with symptoms of much curiosity. No wonder; they had often heard of
the white man, but I was the first specimen that had ever reached
their country. Half way across the clearing we met crowds of women and
children collected to hear the news, all of us being supplied with
sugar-cane to amuse us while a meal was prepared.
At 6 p.m., just at sunset, we reached the houses, and pleased was I to
be able to stretch myself alongside of one of their fires. This was the
hardest day’s walking we had had, ten hours of actual work, crossing
a double range of 5,000 feet in height; and I was both hungry and
tired, and exceedingly enjoyed the meal they prepared for us. The only
drawback was, that there were but Ahtan and one Malay to enjoy it with
me; two, however, came in afterwards, but fourteen succumbed to the
fatigue and did not show themselves. However, I was relieved of much
of my anxiety by the Chief promising to send out a party at early dawn
with provisions.
The Adangs were rejoiced to see my companions, plenty of arrack was
produced, and the news freely given and received. They kept it up to a
very late hour. One family heard of the death of a near relative, and
their wailing in the next room was very painful. Gradually, however,
the spirits they drank began to have an effect upon my companions, and
they all dropped off to sleep, in which I was but too glad to join them.
The only one of my Malay followers who kept up with me, and who, though
one of the most improvident, had yet refused to touch the ham, although
no other Mahomedan was present, was called by his companions Si Kurap,
on account of a skin disease which covered his body. The Malays very
often give nicknames, referring to some personal quality or defect,
which, as in the above case, takes the place of the real name. One man
I knew, who lived at the town of Sakarang, was called Sauh Besi, the
iron anchor, on account of his great strength, and immense muscular
development. Others are called from their low or high stature: Si
Buntak, Mr. Short, or Si Panjang, Mr. Long, or Si Juling, Mr. Squint,
from having that defect in his eyes. A very stout Chinese trader went
always by the name of Baba Lampoh, or Mr. Fat. The women are called
after the same fashion. Si Buntar, or the round, was the name given to
a baby, on account of its plump appearance; and when she grew to be
a woman and became thin, she never had another name. Some are called
Sulong and Bongsu, the eldest and the youngest born, to the day of
their death, never receiving any other appellation. They have also the
same custom as the Dayaks of taking the name of their first-born, as Pa
Sipi, the father of Sipi.
According to the Orang Kaya’s agreement, a party started off at
daylight to search for my missing followers; and I went out and sat
upon the stump of a gigantic tree, to view the surrounding country, a
little anxious about my men. The recent history of the Adang people is
a good illustration of the injury done by the Kayans to the surrounding
tribes. They formerly lived near the Adang river, but extended their
farms to the entrance of the Madalam; but they have been gradually
driven back, until they have abandoned the Limbang waters, and now
drink those of the interior of the Trusan, the whole country from the
Madalam being now jungle. I do not imagine they are nearly so numerous
as they were, as in the last great Kayan foray they suffered awfully.
They were, I believe, all collected in their villages at some great
feast, when the Kayans, about 3,000 strong, set upon them; the first
village was surprised, the fighting-men slain, the rest taken captive;
the few fugitives were followed up so fast as almost to enter together
the second village with their pursuers, where the same scene again took
place. The burning of these villages, and the beating of gongs and
talawaks gave notice to the rest, and all who could fled precipitately
over the Adang range, followed by their relentless foes, who killed and
captured a very great number.
The view from the clearings at the back of the houses is extensive. To
the east three lines of hills, backed in the distance by a long range
of mountains, where the salt springs are found; to the north there is
a fine valley, descending on either side in easy slopes to the banks
of the Trusan, and as a background there is a fine range of mountains.
They say the highest is Brayong, which rises opposite Labuan, and is
one of the loftiest peaks visible from that island--direction east of
south; so that if these people be not mistaken, I know my position
tolerably well; in fact, this morning, before I heard the name, these
heights reminded me of the Lawas mountains; but they appear so close,
that all my bearings and map must be utterly wrong if the Muruts have
not made a very great mistake; it is only one of the guides that calls
it Brayong. The distant eastern range is said to shed its waters to the
opposite coast.
The village at which we are staying is but a very ordinary specimen
of a Dayak location. The houses are poor, though effectually closed
in, to avoid, they say, the poisoned arrows of their enemies, who are
continually haunting this neighbourhood, a very great exaggeration
evidently. From the clearings that are seen on every side, there must
be a very fair population assembled around these hills; but their
continual petty quarrels have no doubt a bad effect on their prosperity
and their power to resist their great enemy. There are about fifty
families in this community, and like many of the other inland Dayak
tribes, each family occupies but a small space; the front verandah,
closed in like a long room, is filled with fireplaces, showing that the
Muruts of the plain find an elevation of 3,500 feet very cold. I had no
blanket last night, and had to get up about three, and have the fire
replenished, for I felt too cold to sleep; they use very large logs as
the chief stay, and with a little care they remain in all night.
I notice here many beads and akiks (agate beads), but little brass
wire. About twelve to-day nine of my followers made their appearance,
five Muruts bearing their burdens for them; they said that the two lads
of the party were quite exhausted, and many of them, from eating the
cabbage of the rattan, had been vomiting. They only managed to reach
the river in which I bathed, and were found there by the party of
Muruts I had sent out; five Muruts continued the search for old Japer
and the original missing four. I am afraid I shall not see anything of
them before to-morrow, as old Japer’s legs are very much swollen. I had
scarcely written the words, when the report of two muskets told me that
they were not far off, and all are now here but Japer, who is slowly
coming on behind. At sunset he arrived, utterly exhausted.
So suspicious had my men become from hearing the Muruts describe the
treachery of the head-hunters, that when the relieving party approached
them, they warned them off, threatening them with their guns; the
Muruts fortunately shouted out Orang Kaya Upit’s name and then they
were trusted. While sitting round the fires this evening, I noticed a
sound like Brooke, and listening more attentively I heard “Tuan Brooke!
Tuan Brooke!” continually repeated. I asked what it was they were
referring to. One of the interpreters explained how delighted they
were to see the adopted son (for so I found I had been introduced) of
the great Mr. Brooke, the friend of the aborigines, the fame of whose
good deeds had reached even this very secluded people; and their only
surprise was that he who had given peace and happiness to the “Southern
Dayaks” should neglect to extend his benefits to the Northern. They
thought that a word from him would stop all the invasions of the
Kayans, and enable them to return to their own regretted country.
I was very anxious to trace the means by which intelligence was
conveyed to these Muruts of the peace and plenty that now reigned among
the Dayaks of Sarawak, and the way in which it reached this tribe was
very simple. When their communities broke up on the Upper Limbang, some
fled to the interior, while others made their way down the river to the
country at present inhabited nearer the sea. At rare intervals, a party
would start to visit their relations, and though, as I have shown,
they occasionally suffered heavy losses as at the Naga Surei rapid,
yet the practice was kept up. Sir James Brooke’s name is of course
very familiar wherever the Malays extend, and, although many would try
to prejudice the minds of the aborigines against him and every other
Englishman, yet the effect would not be permanent, as they all remember
and ponder on that great event, the capture of Brunei by Sir Thomas
Cochrane’s squadron.
To those unaccustomed to these oppressed aborigines, it would appear
incredible--the awe and fear inspired by the Sultan and his nobles in
former times; and the idea was universal that the Bornean government
was the greatest and most powerful in the world; but our navy gave a
rude shock to that belief, and the joy among the aborigines on hearing
that the court was obliged to hide itself in the jungle, and afterwards
humbly apologize for its conduct, spread far and near. They now began
to give more credence to the stories which had been spread by men like
Japer of the power of the English, and of the justice with which our
countrymen ruled men. Adang visitors carried back to the far interior
imperfect versions of these affairs, but what dwelt in their minds was,
that there were some of their countrymen who were happy under the rule
of Tuan Brooke.
Though they knew something of him in this way, similar stories reached
them from other sources; slowly the news spread through the villages
bordering on the Trusan, and were carried up against the stream to meet
the same tales brought over by the Kayan envoys, who declared that Tuan
Brooke was their great ally, and therefore the Adangs were anxious to
secure his influence to put down the Kayan forays.
The highest peak beyond the houses above 5,500 feet is called Lobang
Rimau, “The Tigers’ Cave,” about which they tell this story: that
formerly a tiger killed a woman; the people turned out, and gave chase;
the tigers, eight in number, took refuge in a cave near the peak; the
hunters lit a great fire at the entrance, and smoked them to death.
Since then there have been no tigers, but the place has been called
“Tigers’ Cave” to this day; and it is worth noticing that the Muruts of
Padas have a great dread of ascending to the summit of some of their
highest mountains, on account of the tigers which still, they say, lurk
in the deepest recesses of the forest.
CHAPTER V.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_continued_.
Women’s Ornaments--Adorning in Public--Confidence shown by
a young Girl--Geography--Leech Bites--Tapioca--The Manipa
Stream--The False and True Brayong--Nothing but Rice to
be purchased--Wild Raspberries--Good Shots--The Rifle
Carbine--Death of a Kite--Picking a Cocoa-nut--Curious
Statement--A Village of Runaways--Proposed Slave
Hunt--Disappointment--Appearance of the Women--Old Look of the
Children--Devoid of Drapery--Preparing the Plantations--No Goods
for Sale--Edible Bird’s-nest Cave--Difficulties in penetrating
farther--Determine to return--Climate--New Route--Custom
in Drinking similar to the Chinese--Anecdote of Irish
Labourers--Change of Plans--Fashion of wearing Brass Wire--Start
on a Tour among the Villages--The Burning Path--Village
of Purté--Refreshing Drink--The Upper Trusan--Distant
Ranges--Inviting and receiving Invitations--Fatal Midnight
Revel--Tabari’s Village--Alarm of Orang Kaya Upit--Suspension
Bridge--Inhabitants--Scheme of the Adangs to return to
their old Districts--Deers’ Horns--Mourning--Difficult
Walking--The Tiger’s Leap--Meet Si Puntara--No Real
Enemies--Murud--The Gura Peak--The Main Muruts--Salt as well
as Slave Dealers--Bearskin Jacket--White Marble--Uncertainty
whence procured--Leaden Earrings-- Unbecoming Custom--Lofty
Mountains--Lawi Cloud-hidden--Muruts busy Farming--Two Harvests
a Year--Agricultural Produce plentiful--Obtain a Goat--Dress of
the Men--Bead Petticoats--Custom of burying on the Tops of the
Lofty Hills--Desecration of Graves--Jars--Discovery of one in
Brunei--Similar Millanau Customs.
_September 19th._--Many of the women in this village wear fillets
of beads round their heads to keep back the hair; it looks well at a
distance, but when near, most of them are so dirty that nothing could
look well upon them. Here is a girl going out to the fields to work,
and she is putting on her ornaments; first, the bands round the head;
then a necklace of beads of twenty strings; then a chain made of brass
wire, each link four or five inches long, but most of them wear the
last ornament round the waist. Perhaps she is in a hurry. One might
suppose that these adornments are worn in honour of our visit, as they
must be inconvenient to a woman at work.
Yesterday morning, while out walking, a young girl brought me some
sticks of sugar-cane; her companions remaining a hundred yards off; for
this, in the afternoon, she was duly rewarded with a looking-glass. I
like this confidence, and detest the system they have in some tribes of
running away shrieking--all false modesty, as they are seldom really
afraid. The trade in beads for rice appears brisk, and so we need have
no fear about provisions.
I have been trying to understand the geography of this part of Borneo,
but I am exceedingly puzzled by the position of Brayong; it bears N. E.
by N. The valley leading up to these mountains is very picturesque and
park-like, with its extensive clearings and clumps of trees scattered
about. To the north the hills slope gently to the rivers, and appear
to afford splendid spots for cultivation; from this view, even Brayong
appears approachable by a very easy ascent.
I am trying to make arrangements for a six days’ trip in the jungle, in
search of new flowers, and also for a reported edible bird’s-nest cave,
the latter, most probably, a myth. I am rather troubled by my feet. I
have seventy-three wounds on one leg, and seventy-two on the other, all
from leech bites, and some of them are festering; but a few days’ rest
will probably restore them to a proper walking condition. I dislike
living in these little close houses, they are very dirty, and there is
little new to observe or to interest. I prefer the freedom of the woods
and the freshness of the tents.
_20th._--The women are hard at work preparing the tapioca for
food; they cut it into slices, then dry it, and afterwards pound it
to a flour. Took a walk, notwithstanding my tender feet, as I dislike
remaining quiet a whole day. We went down to the stream which runs to
the eastward of the village, the Manipa (its bed 2,957 feet); observed
only sandstone intermixed with quartz; from thence we ascended to a
village on top of the opposite hill (height 4,403 feet), Purté being
the name of the rivulet that flows near it.
I might well say yesterday I was puzzled by the position of Brayong, as
it turns out not to be Brayong at all. It is not thirty miles off, and
the veritable Lawas range, bearing N. 10° W., about thirty miles beyond
it. There is also a high mountain, part of the false Brayong, bearing
N. Now I am no longer puzzled: the Orang Kaya Upit gave it that name
from the marked resemblance of the two ranges. There is a curiously
shaped mountain, whose eastern end is very recognizable. I must sketch
it in the geographical journal, as I can easily recall it, if ever I
ascend the Trusan.
We found the village nearly empty, all the people being away at their
farms. We could only purchase a fowl; there were two goats, but the
owner was absent. The story of the innumerable goats has indeed faded
away; we were equally unsuccessful in our search for fruit, vegetables,
or sugar-cane. On our return we picked a great many wild raspberries,
which have not very much flavour, but they were refreshing, and in
many places the shrubs grew so very thickly as to prevent any other
vegetation springing up, and looked like a deserted garden. The plants
have a very similar appearance to those grown in England, and are
pleasant to look at as reminding one of home. The boys of the village
for a few beads collected them by the peck, till we were completely
surfeited by them.
I am not a good shot with the rifle, but in my life I have three times
startled the natives, and this I did to-day. There were a great many
men present, chiefs of the neighbouring villages, and Orang Kaya Upit
told me that they had heard of the wonders of the rifle-carbine, that
could be fired five times without loading, and they were all anxious
that I should discharge it before them; so I looked about for a mark,
that if I missed would not be looked upon as a great want of skill.
I observed a large kite perched on a branch of a tree about a hundred
and twenty yards off, so I told them I would have a shot at the bird.
I remembered that I had once before put a bullet from the same carbine
through a hawk, so I had some confidence in the instrument. I fired,
and the bird came down without the flutter of a wing, pitching headlong
into the jungle below. This intensely excited their admiration. There
is no doubt that skill in arms has a great effect upon wild tribes, so
I shall never again attempt a difficult shot before them, for fear I
should weaken the effect of this one. The carbine was an excellent one,
manufactured by Wilkinson of Pall Mall, after Adams’ patent.
Many years ago I landed at Cagayan Sulu, with a large party to buy
cattle. A few of the people were most insolent in their manner, and
they were all fully armed; after strolling about a little in the
blazing sun, we felt very thirsty, and asked the owner of the house
near which we were bartering, to let us have a cocoa-nut. He pointed
to them, and with an insolent laugh said, “You may have one if you
can get it.” I did not wait for a second permission, but without a
moment’s thought let fly at the stalk and brought a nut down. I never
saw astonishment so visible on men’s countenances; we had no more
insolence after that. It was a shot that one might attempt a hundred
times without succeeding.
I mention this circumstance as it produced a proposal that gave me some
information of which I might otherwise not have heard. I noticed in the
evening that the chiefs were more quiet than usual, and that they were
talking together in whispers and constantly looking my way. One of them
brought me a basin of their native spirit, which is not strong, so I
drank it off. Then Orang Kaya Upit unfolded their scheme: he said that
formerly all their tribes were very rich in slaves, captives made in
their different expeditions, before the time they were so broken up;
suddenly, for some reason they did not understand, all the slaves from
the neighbouring villages fled in a body and built a strong house a
few miles away, from whence they constantly harassed their neighbours,
their former masters. They were a bad people, thieves, and murderers,
the only disturbers of their peace: it was they who came at night and
shot poisoned arrows at the women and children, killing many.
After minutely recounting the evil deeds of this people, he said that
the assembled chiefs had often attacked the robbers’ village, but had
never succeeded in taking it. They had seen to-day the wonderful effect
of fire-arms, and they were quite convinced that if I would join them
with my seventeen Malays armed with muskets, we could easily capture
the place; that there were not less than sixty families, so that there
would be at least a couple of hundred slaves to divide, and that they
were willing I should take as many as I liked for myself and men.
My followers looked very eagerly at me, ready at my desire to enter
on this slave hunt. I quietly declined joining in the attack, as we
had never been injured by their enemies. To this they replied that I
should certainly be attacked on my journey home, as these people would
have heard of my arrival, and would lie in ambush. I told the Orang
Kaya that I would prefer waiting till that event took place; if it did
I would turn back, and join them in driving their enemies out of the
country. They were disappointed at my determination, and perhaps my
men had indulged themselves with the idea of getting a slave apiece. If
true, this story of the village of escaped captives is very curious;
but it may have been invented to induce me to join in an attack on a
tribe of their enemies.
_21st._--Many of the inhabitants of the neighbouring villages
are coming in to see the stranger. The women are remarkably ill
favoured--broad flat faces and extremely dirty, but with many head
ornaments, and some of them are tattooed about the arms and legs. Many
of the men and women wear round flat pieces of metal or of wood in the
holes of their ears instead of earrings, while others have heavy pieces
of lead, dragging the ear down to the shoulder, like the Kanowit tribe,
I suppose to enlarge the holes to the proper proportions.
It is curious to notice the very old look that many of the boys and
girls have, especially the latter: it requires a glance at the bosom
to discover whether they are young or not. Their petticoats are of the
shortest, sometimes not eight inches broad, and are scarcely decent.
The Bengal civilian’s exclamation on seeing the Sarawak Dayaks, “It
strikes me that these people are rather devoid of drapery,” would apply
better to the Adang ladies.
We have purchased rice for twenty days at extremely moderate rates,
bartering with beads. Our guide continues absent on a visit to his
relations, which is the cause of our remaining so quiet. The atmosphere
around us is filled with smoke from the burning plantations, rendering
it quite unpleasant for mouth, nose and eyes: the clearings are very
extensive in many places, and as yet not half burnt. Their cultivation
is very slovenly--the regular Dayak custom of felling a large extent
of jungle, then, when dry, burning all that can be easily burnt, thus
leaving the trunks and large branches, and planting rice between them.
I have observed but few tobacco-plants; they smoke what appeared to
me a kind of moss, but in reality tobacco badly cured. They are all
anxious for goods, but they have nothing to sell; neither goats nor
honey, and but few fowls or vegetables, nor do they appear to have wax,
camphor or birds’-nests; rice is their only commodity, and that they
have in abundance.
4 p.m.--One of the great curiosities of these countries is certainly
the edible bird’s-nest caves, and we were promised the sight of an
immense one. Luñgenong told us that once, when out hunting, he had
followed a pig into a large crevice in the rock, which, however,
opened out to an immense size in the interior; and that the sides were
covered with a mass of the white nest; of course the old ones would
have been of no value, but had they been destroyed, in a few months
new ones would have been built, and have been worth a great deal to
them. Luñgenong has just returned from a visit to his relations, but
though he still persists in his story of the caves, he has changed a
three days’ walk into a month’s journey in the forest: we must, he
says, carry provisions for the whole distance. This is evidently an
invention; perhaps he does not want us to visit his caves, so I have
told him I won’t go. I should like to reach the mountain of Lawi, but
I have only seven men who can walk.
_22nd._--I have almost made up my mind not to try to penetrate
farther into the country during this expedition. I think it would be
much better to attempt reaching the great mountain of Lawi by ascending
the Trusan river from its mouth. The whole country appears inhabited,
so that my men would not suffer as they have done during our present
expedition up the Limbang: they would have no unusual fatigues, nor any
privations to undergo, and our chance would be greater.
It is very improbable indeed that at this season I can get much
assistance from these villagers; it is their planting time, and they
have a little of that feeling, which we found so prevalent during
our Kina Balu trip, of not wishing to help us to go beyond their own
village--a sort of jealousy that we may distribute our goods elsewhere.
Were my men well I should laugh at such difficulties, and go without a
guide; but four of my followers are really ill, eight more have very
sore feet, so that in reality I have but five efficient men, which is
too few to wander with unless joined to the people of the country. I
have succeeded in all the objects with which I started except reaching
Lawi, and I have gained such knowledge and experience how to organize
the next expedition, that I feel tolerably assured of penetrating
during the next excursion very much farther into the country.
The climate among these hills must be very healthy, the air is fresh
and cool; even in the middle of the day it is not oppressive, except
in certain places. A few days’ farther advance would give us a very
superior climate. I regret that I have not sufficient instruments with
me to carry out all my views: but even with the imperfect means I
possess, I have added considerably to my knowledge of this portion of
the interior.
We are making many inquiries respecting the country below us, and
the result is that we think that by starting from Brunei with light
boats and lighter baggage, we should probably reach these houses in
good condition under twelve days; which would enable us to extend our
travels immensely during two months. I am longing to push on to the
range of mountains we see to the eastward, but after five days’ rest
few of the men have recovered from their walk from the Madihit.
The men are drinking arrack around me, and it is interesting to observe
the custom of refusing the proffered glass and pressing it on others,
the contest continuing even to the danger of spilling the liquor. It is
so practised among the Chinese at Sarawak that a cup of tea is often
offered and refused by every one in company before the holder will
drink it. I must have disconcerted many a thirsty man by accepting the
cup before I knew the custom. This puts me in mind of an incident that
took place in a rapid run I made between the Cove and Cork. At the door
of a public-house were a dozen idle labourers: we stopped there for a
glass of ale, and in the exuberance of our spirits ordered four quarts
for the idlers: just as we were starting, one of them stepped up to me
and said,--“Sir, we never drink but out of our own pints.”
5 p.m.--“Unstable as water,” &c., I might almost say of myself, as my
determination of not extending our journey has been upset by the Orang
Kaya Upit, who assures me that the people of the interior are expecting
me, and Si Nuri has just joined us with a message from Si Puntará, the
old hunter we met in the woods, hoping we will come and visit him and
his people. So if nothing occur, we shall start to-morrow with such men
as can walk, leaving the others to recover strength at this village. I
much prefer this plan, as it will enable me to form a better estimate
of the facilities of reaching the centre of the island by this route,
and I may yet get a look at Lawi. I have constantly borne in mind the
whisper I overheard, that only certain privileged individuals are
allowed to get a sight of this famous hill.
I have seen many fashions of wearing brass wire, but the most inelegant
is that of some of the girls of the neighbouring villages, who twist
about a couple of fathoms in circles round their neck, rising from the
shoulders to the chin, forming what appears a stiff collar with a very
broad base; it is, however, no doubt more pliant than it appears.
_23rd._--Commenced our tour among the villages by walking over to
the Purté houses: it took us two hours in the broiling sun, although in
a direct line not above two miles, and by path not three, but we had
to descend about fifteen hundred feet and climb that again; the slopes
of the hills very steep: besides we were in no hurry, not intending to
pass this village. The leech bites prevent my wearing shoes, and the
way being completely open, with no shade whatever, the trunks of trees
laid along to form a path were very hot, making the soles of my feet
painfully sore; my followers, lazy after a five days’ rest, lagged even
in this short walk, but as soon as we reached the houses, a beautiful
breeze refreshed us: but even a long bath would not cool my burning
feet.
The village of Purté, or Sakalobang, one the name of the rivulet,
the other of the buttress, is on a northern spur of the Adang range,
which here bends considerably to the eastward. It consists of about
forty-five families, and the houses are slightly larger than the last
ones, and less confined: this village acknowledges Balang Palo as its
head man, as Si Lopong was of the last, and they know the different
villages by the names of the chief men, rather than by rivers or
hills. After our bathe the villagers refreshed us with a sweet drink,
unfermented, made from the roots of the tapioca. I notice here that
deer’s horns are much used as pegs on which to hang their swords and
fighting jackets. Most of the people are away planting rice, while
the neighbouring villagers are burning the felled trees, and filling
the air with their smoke. As we advance we obtain better views of the
interior, and here the Trusan, under the name of Kalalan, is rather
broad, and might perhaps float a canoe.
I shall not make much remark about the country, as I have taken the
necessary bearings, and shall see it all so much better from the upper
villages. The lofty eastern range is gradually appearing as two, with
in one place high white cliffs near the summit; it is too smoky for
very good bearings. Noticed a little boy wearing brass wire round the
arm from the wrist to the elbow, after the fashion of Sarawak Dayak
girls, and many of the absurd brass-wire collars even on young children.
Every principal man seems to consider it necessary to give Orang Kaya
Upit, and the other illustrious visitors, a meal or a feast, and it is
amusing to watch how the invitation is given and received. The host
draws near the crowd, and says,--“Come,” the visitors pretend not to
hear: he again repeats, “Come,” more impatiently. They look at anything
rather than the speaker, and continue their conversation with more
earnestness than ever; after innumerable “Comes,” they at last get
up and proceed in solemn procession to the host’s room; and this is
carried on throughout the day, the visitors becoming redder and redder
in the face as evening approaches, the repeated draughts of arrack
having their effect. They gave me a little honey; it does not look
inviting, but it tastes tolerably well.
8 p.m.--The whole house is in uproar, from the news arriving of a man
having been killed last night during a drunken bout in a neighbouring
village: nobody knows who did it, so each of the men took an oath it
was not he: they hang up a string of tiger-cat’s teeth, and the men
pass under, denying the action; a man refusing to undergo this ordeal
is considered guilty. The discussion among the assembled chiefs is very
energetic, as each man is trying to suggest how the accident could
have occurred; it being their custom when intending to spend the night
drinking, to lodge all their arms with the women. The most sensible
conjecture was that the spear shaken from its place by the boisterous
movements of the drinkers, fell without being touched, and striking the
man inside the thigh, cut the femoral artery: they could not stop the
bleeding, and the man died almost immediately. At first suspicion fell
upon the owner of the spear, but he evidently had not thrown it, yet
they felt inclined to fine the man for having possessed so unlucky a
weapon. The news of the accident threw a slight damp on the party, and
though they kept it up till one, much to my discomfort, yet none of the
carousers got intoxicated.
_24th._--We advanced to-day four hours in a south-east by east
direction to the village of Tabari. I thought yesterday I should get
a clearer view at early dawn, but a dense fog hid everything from us;
it did not lift till nine, and then only partially, but it showed that
what appeared as the southern end of the long range is a separate
mountain, but as we shall in all likelihood advance two or three days
farther, it is useless to speculate on the probable course of the
river. Our path to-day reminded me of the Sarawak Dayak ones, being
principally composed of trunks of trees generally notched, disagreeable
in descending.
As the morning was cool, our party kept well together, except the
Orang Kaya Upit and his relations, who would have bad birds. They are
evidently in alarm; what about is rather puzzling, as we are only
going to the houses of our last night’s visitors, but they apprehend
treachery, and are giving broad hints about returning; to this I will
not listen, as they will state no reason for their fears. Tabari’s
village, unlike the rest, is on the main river, which thus affords us
pleasant baths; it contains twenty-three families. Opposite the houses
is one of those bamboo and wooden suspension-bridges, thrown from one
tree to another, common in many rivers, and very useful, though they
are sometimes very rotten, and will only bear one at a time. (Houses
3,127 feet.) Although we stopped at Tabari’s house, the Orang Kaya Upit
would not, but went on to the next village.
[Illustration:
T. Picken, lith.
Published by Smith, Elder & C^o. 65, Cornhill, London.
Day & Son, Lith^{rs}. to the Queen.
MURUT BRIDGE--TABARIS VILLAGE.]
These people say that they are not Adangs, but the original inhabitants
of the country, intermarried, however, with the fugitive tribe, and
speaking the same language. They may be people of the lower Trusan, but
I doubt if they have long been settled here: there are no fruit-trees
nor ancient clearings around them, no sign, in fact, but of a rather
recent settlement.
I am promised a sight of the great mountain of Lawi to-morrow. There is
some talk of our returning a new way; I shall not object if I can get
my baggage brought on, as I like to pass over fresh ground, and I may
be able to get some bearing of Molu, which I have not done since I left
the Limbang.
I forget whether I have mentioned it before, but there is a scheme on
foot of which the Orang Kaya Upit is the originator, and he quotes me
as his great authority. It is this: that the Sultan should allow a fort
to be established at the entrance of the Madalam, to be held by the
Orang Kaya, to stop the expeditions of the Kayans; then that the whole
of the inhabitants of the interior of the Trusan should move over and
farm between the Madalam and Madihit. There can be no doubt that it
would be a good thing both for Brunei and the Muruts, as the Borneans
would get rice cheap, and the Adangs be able to supply themselves with
goods; few wear anything but bark now, and as on the Limbang there
are both wax and camphor, and innumerable rattans, they would have no
difficulty in purchasing cloths, which they already prize. The Muruts
would be too far off to be oppressed, but near enough to trade. The
Shabandar, however, dreads anything like combination among the Muruts,
and would particularly object to their getting beyond his reach.
Deers’ horns are plentiful in this house. Ahtan has just counted
forty-three used as pegs; the skins of bears, as well as those of the
rimau dahan are also numerous, nearly every man having a jacket of
them. The men evidently hunt a great deal; their dogs are all sleek and
well fed, and I intend buying a couple to take down the river with us.
There is apparently always something new to notice in these tribes. I
never before saw the following ceremony: twenty-four girls and boys,
with a few grown women, are walking up and down the verandah, chanting,
“Woh, weh, woh, Isana,” mourning for the son of the chief, who has just
been wounded up country. They march in Indian file, their arms resting
on the shoulders of the person in front; it appears to be a mere
ceremony, there being very little grief in the tone. At first I thought
it might be connected with the heavy rain and crashing thunderstorm
that is now raging outside, preventing any attempt at conversation.
This promises us a rapid if safe return, as we have had rain at night
for the last few days.
These people wear many rings of lead up the rim of the ear, as I
noticed among the wax gatherers.
I have just heard that it was a relation of the Orang Kaya Upit who
wounded the chief’s son, which explains the bad omens and the fears.
Absurd fellow not to have explained the reason, because we could then
have all gone on together!
_25th._--We advanced about four miles in a S.E. by S. direction to
the houses of Si Nina, where we breakfasted. The track was generally
along the banks of the river and very bad walking indeed; constant
landslips having destroyed the path, we had to crawl along over the
loose earth, sometimes finding it impassable; we were then obliged to
descend to the foaming stream below, hard and dangerous work after last
night’s rain. Among the valleys small plains, slightly undulating, are
to be met with; otherwise the character of the country is a general
succession of steep hills. At one place two rocks were pointed out to
me in the stream about thirty feet apart, called the Tigers’ Leap. I
made many inquiries about these animals; they insist that eight came
to their country; that they were not tiger-cats as I suggested: if
such animals were ever here they might have escaped from cages in the
capital: it was a common custom among the far eastern princes to keep
these ferocious creatures, but I never heard of Bornean princes doing
so. I have read somewhere that formerly there were a few tigers on the
north-east coast, probably let loose by strangers as the ancestors of
the elephants were.
Si Nina’s village contains about forty families, if we follow the
numbers of doors, though he himself says fifty, and their lazy habits
may induce two families to live in a space not fit even for one. Here
we met Si Puntará, whom we accompanied two miles in a south-west
direction to his village on the slope of a hill; it consists of two
houses and perhaps forty families. Tapioca is extensively grown round
this village, and the clearings are immense. What proves to me that
the stories of constant harassing enemies are exaggerations, is that
all these villages keep their rice granaries at some distance from the
houses, where they might be destroyed without any danger or difficulty;
to this the Muruts would answer that their enemies seek heads, not rice.
The mountain at the southern end of the first eastern range, called by
the natives Murud, or “the mountain,” bears south-east by south, and
in a straight line is perhaps not more than three miles off. (Houses
3,679 feet). Orang Murut simply means a mountain man, or a mountaineer,
but is now used for a particular class of aborigines. Standing near
the rice granaries of Si Puntará’s village we had a fine view of the
ranges that ran from north to south, whose lengthened summits showed
occasionally white cliffs, but there was a peak not many miles from us,
a little to the eastward of south, called Gura, and from its summit
they said on a fine day the eastern coast was visible, with the broad
sea beyond, and at its base and beyond it live the Main Muruts, who
are the great suppliers of salt.
There are some of the Main Muruts here. I have asked for a guide to
their houses; I am promised one if I will remain another week, but as
that excursion itself would take us eight days, I must not think of
attempting it, as even now I shall not be back to Brunei within the
time I promised. The Main Muruts are not only salt but slave dealers.
I have noticed but one of them, and he in his pride has beaten out a
brass gong into a broad belt a foot across. He is a forbidding-looking
fellow, with a hair lip. They say the salt water issues from a spring,
and is collected in small ponds, and then boiled for the salt; it looks
dirty, and has a peculiar flavour, as if it had much soda in it. The
Orang Kaya Upit, with a bad omen, has again deserted us, so that we are
without a proper interpreter.
_26th._--In looking at a bearskin jacket, of which there are a
great many to be seen about, I for the first time saw a specimen of
the Batu Gading, “ivory stone,” in fact, white marble. They say the
Muruts of Limbang sell it. I should like to know from whence they get
it; those I have asked say from Baram. I remember passing a mountain or
hill in that river that they called Batu Gading. Sent a party to find
if the Orang Kaya Upit had been able to purchase a deer or a goat for
us. Many of the women, as I have before noticed in the men, wear leaden
rings along the edge of the ear; the lobe being brought down to the
shoulder by half-a-dozen heavy ones.
About 11 a.m. started in a south-west direction for about a mile and
a half, to the top of a hill, from whence there is usually a view of
Lawi in a south-west direction; all the mountains, however, are hidden
in clouds, but it must be a high one if remarkable among its towering
neighbours. The whole appearance of the country is mountainous, each
range becoming more lofty as we approach the hidden interior. From an
elevation of about 4,348 feet, the two mountains next us looked very
high, perhaps between 7,000 and 8,000 feet; they say these are the
children, Lawi the father.
Were the people not so busy with their farms, and I so pressed for
time, I would try and reach Lawi, as there are people residing at its
foot; but I must put it off till next expedition, when I hope to pass
the mountain.
These people are very well off, on account of planting rice twice a
year, one kind called Asas being ready in three months, the other in
five months. They have plenty of the great essential rice, and trust
to hunting for most of their flesh; they, however, keep pigs and a few
fowls. Tapioca is a mere weed; dressed as a potato it is excessively
indigestible; I have observed some sweet potatoes, and also some yams
and Indian corn. They have no fruit-trees, contenting themselves with a
few bananas.
Orang Kaya Upit has so far got over his fears, that he has made his
appearance, following in the train of a goat, which has been the
loadstone to draw him here. I think our farthest resting-place has
been reached, as I talk of returning to-morrow, and calculate that
should no unforeseen event take place, we may reach Brunei by the 11th
October. The plan of returning by an entirely new road has been given
up, as it would require our remaining here till all the rice is planted.
I have seen quite as much of the country as I expected, penetrating as
far, though not quite in the direction I had calculated. I thought we
should have made a general S.E. by S. direction from the Madalam, but I
think we must have advanced S.E. by E. instead.
Many of the men have broad belts of bark, which are worn partly over
the chawat, something after the fashion of the Belcher’s Sagais of
the eastern coast, if I remember right; their chawats here are often
absurdly small, not even answering the purpose for which they are
intended: one or two have head-dresses of bark, ornamented with little
cowrie-shells, the breadth being sometimes five inches, differing from
the padded helmets we saw on the wax seekers; heavy necklaces of beads
are worn by the men as well as by the women; a few of the young girls
have petticoats composed entirely of beads, on a groundwork of cloth or
perhaps bark.
As I have advanced into the country I have noticed many clearings on
the ridges of the highest hills--perhaps fifty yards in length. It
is in these places that the bones of their chief men rest. As far
as I understand their ways, they place the corpse in a sort of box,
fashioned sometimes like the body of a deer, or what a Murut fancies
is a resemblance, until all the flesh is dissolved from the bones;
these are then placed in a jar, and left on the lofty spots I have
mentioned. I noticed many of these jars in my forced march from Molu,
above the sites of the old Tabun villages, and to the intense disgust
of my guide they were found broken, and the skulls extracted by the
marauding Kayans.
I lately, also, discovered one near my house with the bones nearly
dissolved. It was most probably buried there before the Borneans turned
Mahomedans, as no Muruts have lived on the hills near the capital
since, at least so says tradition. It was found a couple of hundred
yards from the site of the old East India Company’s factory, which was
abandoned about eighty or ninety years ago. The poor men are said to
have their bones buried, while the chiefs have theirs added to those
of their ancestors. I hear the Millanaus follow a custom somewhat
similar. When a chief dies, they place the body in a shed with a raised
floor, and cover it over with sand: they leave it there, till all the
dissolvable parts have run through the open flooring, and when the
remains are perfectly dry, they collect and place them in a jar. All
the relations and friends are then summoned, and they feast and rejoice
for seven days.
I have procured some honey to-day, as I strongly suspect I shall have
little but plain boiled rice to live on during the journey back.
CHAPTER VI.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Continued_.
Commence the return Journey--Kayan Embassy--Indian
Corn--Confidence of the People--Ophthalmia--Old Jar--Gratitude
rarely shown--Anecdote--Warning to Amateur Doctors--Bezoar
Stones--Arrangements at Si Lopong’s--A Nightcap--Desertion
of our Guides--Murut Music--Start for the Adang--Warned
of Difficulties--Abundance of Rice--Cross the Adang
Mountains--Active Girls--The Anœctochilus--Attack of
Fever--Arrangements in case of its continuance--Loss of
Chamber to Revolver--Reach the Adang--Legend--Construct four
Rafts--Pleasant Movement--Trying Position of one of the Men--The
first Rapid passed--Difficulties at the second--Bold Swimmer--A
Whirlpool--Danger of Drowning--Our Raft tested--Abandoned--The
rest wrecked--Pass the Umur--Reach the Limbang--Construct
fresh Rafts--Uneasy Anticipations--Heavy Fresh--Fine Specimen
of a Raft--Push off--Dangers and Troubles--The Rafts
ungovernable--The Roaring of Waters--Overhanging Cliffs--The
Cataract--Awe of the Men--Shoot the Cataract--Narrow Escape--Its
Height--The Men recover their Voice--Ineffectual Attempts
to stop the Raft--Caught in a Whirlpool--Safety--Arrival
of the other Rafts--Dangers ahead--Walk--Abandon the
Rafts--State of Provisions--Nearly all consumed--Ahtan’s
Secret Store--Rocks--Advance over the Kalio Hills--Sparing the
Food--Exhausting climbing--“Jog on”--Feed on the Cabbages of the
Bengkala Palm--Almost a Mutiny--Facing the Difficulty--Reach
the Summit of the Paya Paya, or “very difficult” Hills--Night
on the Summit--Our Tent--The last Fowl--Molu--The greatest
Difficulties passed--Country more open--Follow the Banks of the
River--Distress of the Men--Improvidence--Curious Sounds in the
old Forest--Cry of the Argus Pheasant--of the Jelatuk--Rending
of a Mighty Tree--Danger from Decaying Trees--Cock-fights among
the Argus Pheasants.
_27th._--Returned by a new path, and a shorter one, to Tabari’s
house. Again Lawi was so covered with clouds that nothing but his base
could be seen: it appeared about fifteen miles off in a S.W. direction.
I hear that the Limbang rises in that mountain. There are houses at its
base, two of which were lately attacked by the Kayans and destroyed.
Just before my arrival the Kayans sent over six men to inquire whether
the Muruts of the upper Trusan would submit to them and pay tribute;
if they would do so all attacks should cease. It is very probable that
these men came over as spies, to find out the easiest way of reaching
the upper country. I missed them by a couple of days.
We stopped to breakfast about half a mile before we reached Tabari’s
village, at a house that was literally overflowing with Indian corn.
We should have laid in a stock but that they asked absurd prices.
Everywhere the people of the country were busy planting, and we
continually came upon parties working in the fields. They showed no
fear whatever, the news having spread very rapidly through the country
that our objects were friendly. From Tabari’s we followed the old path
to Ballang Palo’s, where we rested the night. In passing through this
village, I had given a man afflicted with sore eyes a little sulphate
of zinc: he already had found, or fancied he found, some benefit from
the medicine, and in remembrance brought me a jar of arrack, containing
about three quarts, which he insisted I must drink. The old jar was
a curious specimen of former Chinese work, which had most probably
been with the Muruts for many generations. It was blue, with numerous
figures of dragons upon it.
As the sulphate of zinc had once acted well, I found numerous customers
for it, a great many being troubled with sore eyes, perhaps from
crowding over their smoky fires during the cold nights. I mention the
circumstance of the poor fellow bringing the arrack, as, how grateful
soever they may be in their hearts for a kindness, they seldom show
it. I have not known half a dozen instances during my whole residence
in the East. It is not always quite safe to administer medicine,
particularly when the amateur doctor promises that a cure will result
from his exertions, as the following story will show. A Bukar Dayak had
a son, who fell ill of the small-pox, and a native doctor offered his
services, assuring the father he could cure his child; unfortunately
for him, however, notwithstanding all the medicine he administered, the
child died, when the father, accusing him of having wilfully caused the
death of his son, drew his sword and killed him on the spot. As this
event took place while the Bukar tribe was still under the authority of
the Sultan of Brunei, a fine only was inflicted for this summary act
of vengeance. We sat up rather late, but as we had no man with us, who
could freely converse in their language, the Orang Kaya Upit having
stayed behind on a trading speculation, we could only drink together,
and look very solemn. I have noticed the very few marketable articles
these people have for sale, but one of them brought me to-day a very
large bezoar stone, an inch and a half in length, and two and a half in
circumference. They say they procure them from the monkeys, whom they
kill to seek for this stone, and while some affirm they find them in
the head, others declare they take them from the bladder. The ones I
have seen are of a clear brown, highly polished, and not heavier than a
similar piece of very light wood.
_28th._--On to Si Lopong’s. I found that even Murut arrack is
a very bad assistant to exertion. I stayed this night at the house
preparatory to a start in the morning. We are in great hopes that some
of the Muruts will walk with us as far as the spot where we intend
to construct rafts, and thus give us a good stock of provisions to
commence operations upon; but nothing could be arranged on account
of Si Lopong’s absence. In the evening he came home, and immediately
brought out two basins of arrack, one of which he handed to me, and
said we must drink in remembrance of our friendship. Having complied
with his desire, I began to enter into our business, but before I could
utter a dozen words he lay back on his mat and was fast asleep. He had
arrived drunk, as no doubt, at every village, he had been feasted; and
the last bowl of arrack was the night-cap. Seeing that it was hopeless
to attempt to wake him, I put off our conversation till the morning.
The men I had left behind I found tolerably recovered, and all were
ready for a start; that is, if anybody could be found to carry the
baggage. Most of the guides had given up their intention to return:
Si Nuri intended to spend a month or two with his first wife; Kadayan
was kept by his family, and Luñgenong would not start without the
Orang Kaya Upit; so that unless I wait here some time, we must trust
entirely to ourselves. The way to the Adang is not very difficult to
find. Waking during the night, I heard some sounds almost as musical as
those produced by a bagpipe; it came from a Murut near at hand, who was
perhaps serenading his mistress. I examined the instrument he used, and
it was very simple to produce so many notes. Two thin bamboos, about
twelve inches long, were fastened very neatly side by side; in one
was cut four holes like those in a flute, while the other had a long
piece of grass inserted in the lower end. A slight incision was then
cut across both towards the upper portion. The performer thrust this
instrument rather deep into his mouth and blew, and then, with the aid
of tongue, fingers, and moving the grass, produced some very agreeable
and wild tunes. I watched him for some time as he sat by the side of a
flickering fire, but being tired, it at last lulled me to sleep.
_29th._--Si Lopong is naturally very unwilling to start without
his relation, the Orang Kaya Upit; he says that he cannot be many days,
as he has only to wait for the return of the party of Main Muruts, who
have gone to fetch him some slaves. This settles the question, and I
start without guides. Unfortunately, the Orang Kaya has with him the
hunting dogs I purchased at Tabari’s. Our intention is to walk to the
Adang River, and construct rafts on which to float down the stream. The
Muruts have always warned us that it is too full of cataracts, rapids,
and huge rocks, to be descended by rafts, and that, if they fail us,
the country is impassable; but my men are eager to try the easy method
of returning, and I am desirous of following the course of the Limbang.
6 p. m.--We got away at 9 a.m. I explained to my men that I would not
allow our guides to bring slaves into our party; that all the shame of
the transaction would fall on me; and that if the Orang Kaya attempted
it, I would take away his boat, and let him find his way home overland.
There was rice of ours sufficient for a month’s consumption, and I
strongly advised the men to remember how they had suffered in their
former land journey. They all promised to take twelve or fourteen days’
provisions, and I took eighteen days’, dividing it among all the men,
each to carry a day’s rice for me.
We found the Adang range a very stiff climb, and before we reached
the top I had to relieve Musa of his double barrel, he was carrying
so heavy a load. At the stream we met two hunters, and endeavoured
to persuade them to lend us a hand for one day, but we could not
bribe them. It is astonishing what habit will do. A young girl, not
above thirteen, came part of the way with us to assist in carrying a
relation’s burden, and she walked up that steep mountain, comparatively
with the most perfect ease. I here found some of those beautiful
Anœctochilus which Mr. Low wanted. I collected about a dozen, all I
could see, and put them into a tin pepper-box, with holes in the top,
to try whether they would keep. They are the most breathtaking plants I
have ever seen, with leaves through which lines of gold, or white, or
bright red run, forming a lovely pattern. I have been shown some of the
very plants I collected, now growing luxuriantly in England, and they
are the most delicate looking ornaments for a hot-house.
After much exertion, we got about half way down the western face of the
Adang range, the rain pouring heavily; so at five p.m. we came to a
stop and pitched our tents.
_30th._--The rain still continued, but we pushed on by the old
path till we came to a small stream, called the Batu Loba, where
we found some freshly constructed huts. After bathing, I felt very
feverish, and taking a dose of quinine, a large basin of rice-water,
and wrapping myself up in all the dry clothing I had, I burst into a
profuse perspiration. It was not a very agreeable night for me. I lay
in my tent alone: the men, except Musa, who watched over me, preferring
the hunters’ huts, as the floor was there dry, and they had no time to
make a raised floor in the tent for themselves, as they did for me.
The rain was coming down in torrents, which presently increased to
a terrific thunderstorm. The wind did not affect us much, we were
too low, in a hollow; but I thought if this really be fever, what a
prospect for me in this forest. I called Musa, and made every necessary
arrangement in case I should be delirious in the morning: that two or
three men should stay with me, and the rest go back to the houses;
that if I grew worse, the Muruts might be engaged to carry me to their
village; and that when I recovered, we should go home by the Trusan,
abandoning the boats, instruments, and everything.
I need scarcely say how joyful we all were, when in the morning I got
up without any fever, and only a little weakened by the slight attack.
I thought at the time that it might be from over-fatigue, as I had not
only carried all my instruments and arms, but had assisted others. Some
one during the night must have been amusing himself with my revolver,
as shortly after starting, on withdrawing it from its cover, I found
the chamber gone, rendering the weapon useless till our arrival at the
boats, where I had left a spare one; so I gave up the carbine, and took
to my double-barrel.
_October 1st._--Continued by the old path to the Adang; hitting
it, however, a little to the northward of the point where we previously
crossed it. Here we prepared to make the rafts on which we intend to
continue our journey. We found plenty of material--light wood, bamboos,
and rattans, &c.; so we encamped on a pebbly bank, the men hoping to
be soon joined by the Muruts. During our walk to-day, while following
the ridge of the Batu Put hills, we observed on its summit two large
boulders, one some twenty-five feet in length. They appeared to be
granite, but I could not break off a piece. They bear that rather
immodest name from the following legend:--That a famous chief of yore,
disdaining to make his nuptial-couch on the grass, fetched up these
huge stones to sleep on; and they point to some marks as the impression
made by his bride’s limbs, which, without much stretch of fancy, might
be taken for the mould of a foot and leg.
_2nd._--Occupied in making rafts. The rain last night produced a
flood: the river rose about five feet, not many inches below the tent,
and is in a capital condition for a start; but making the rafts has
occupied more time than I expected, and we cannot set out to-night.
The Orang Kaya Upit has not made his appearance: I only regret the rice
we left at Si Lopong’s--he may come to-night; but I have never expected
him to follow so soon. It has been showery all the afternoon, and I
fear a wet night. We have made four rafts: old Japer commands one with
three men, Minudin with three more, Lamit and three, then Musa, with
three Malays, a boy, Ahtan, and myself. Ours is a very strong raft of
bamboo; the others appear but very shaky affairs, the men being too
lazy to work well at them.
_5th._--Started early; at first all went smoothly enough. The
river was sufficiently deep, though it had fallen. We began to
congratulate ourselves on the charming sensation of gliding down the
stream, with only the occasional trouble of pushing the raft from the
bank. The first notice we had that all was not to be smooth water was
seeing in a long reach a rock in the centre, with a dashing, breaking
fall on either side; and on this rock was one of our men standing, the
very picture of despair. Three rafts had passed, and his only chance
was to jump on to ours. We came rushing towards him at a tremendous
pace, trying to keep as near the rock as possible to give him a better
chance, and in doing so, caught it, which threw the raft right across
the stream: it rose to an angle of 45°, and we all thought it was going
over, when the broad surface presented to the water raised it up, and
it slipped past the rock. The man, after having assisted in moving it,
stood still, and we had nearly passed him; I yelled at him, which
brought him to a sense of his danger: he made a bold spring, and just
succeeded in reaching the raft. Had he remained where he was, he must
have sprung into the boiling surge, hoping that we could pick him up if
he reached the smoother water.
On arriving at the next difficult rapid, it was proposed to take out
the baggage, and then pass the rafts down, as the first had already
been buried in the water, and everything was wet through. This was
tiresome work. It is always difficult to pack and unpack during the
day’s journey; but after an hour’s hard work, we had passed all the
things down to the bottom of the rapid, except a large tambok, or
basket three feet high, made from the covering of the sago-palm stem.
This the owner thought he would take with him on the raft; but just as
he started, a wave struck it, and it rolled into the water, and went
dancing down the stream: it was full of valuables of mine and the man’s
clothing. The bold fellow sprang after, but too late to reach it before
it sank; he, however, dived till he fished it up.
Our pride in our rafts was fast leaving us when, about an hour
afterwards, we saw one of the smaller ones rushing round at a frantic
pace in a whirlpool, and three men trying to save one of their
companions, whose head we could occasionally see bobbing up: we were
on them in a minute; our strong raft went headlong against the rock,
creaked to the force of the waters, but did not break up, and we were
enabled to push the man near enough to the shore to be seized by his
companions: our raft was too long to be mastered by the whirlpool: we
just saw one man holding on to the fellow’s long hair, as we were swept
out of sight.
Our raft had bravely carried us through dangers that, one after the
other, had destroyed its companions, so that at four p.m. I very much
regretted finding it stuck firm on a great rapid that appeared a mile
in length. I proposed that we should encamp opposite, and trust to the
night’s rain to enable us to float it over; but the men said we had
better push on to the Limbang and build new rafts there; so we walked
till five, when, catching up our wrecked companions, we pitched our
tents: there was very little cheerfulness in the party that night. We
had passed through a country of nothing but low forest, with a few
hills scattered about. Our course was nearly west south-west.
_4th._--We had heavy rain during the night, which made the
river rise a fathom; so that had we stuck to our raft, we might have
advanced in her. The course of the river continued winding to the
west-south-west, passed the Umur on the right bank. Had some difficulty
in finding a ford: after five hours’ walking, reached the Limbang. I
had but a partial view of the junction; I thought it only the end of
an island, though a clear view shortly after showed, by the augmented
volume of water, that we were on the main river: walked forward for
an hour and a half, till we found sufficient light wood to make our
rafts: then pitching our tents, the men set to work preparing them, and
after doing my best to make our tent comfortable, I am now inditing
this journal. The men this afternoon evidently think that matters are
looking a little serious, and have worked away with a will till dark.
Convinced that bamboos make bad rafts, strong but not sufficiently
buoyant, they are using only light woods;[8] and remembering the severe
blows they received in the tributary, they are preparing for worse in
the main stream. We are now beginning to remember the warnings of the
Muruts, that you cannot descend the stream in rafts at any time, and in
boats only in fine weather; and the addition, that if the rafts fail
now, the country is composed of such steep mountains that it would be
impossible to cross them. I hear these not very cheerful discussions
going on around me; but the sanguine portion of my retainers point to
the beautiful smooth stream, whose banks we have followed for several
miles.
_5th._--There was much rain last night, with thunder and
lightning; and the river rose a fathom, and is continuing to rise,
concealing any signs of rapids in the long reach before us. The men
are determined that this time the rafts shall be strong enough: ours
is a model, twenty-two feet long by six in breadth, composed of a
double layer of trees, the lower nine large ones, the upper a dozen
smaller trees; on this is a raised platform, on which we have stowed
our provisions and goods. We have all got on it to try its buoyancy,
and find that it is not an inch out of water, but that is immaterial.
I have just been round to look at the different rafts. Though not
so good as ours, they are all tolerably strong; and the men having
breakfasted, I have given the orders to put off; and now, at mid-day,
we are starting.
Our course was at first very pleasant. The river was broad, deep, and
sufficiently rapid; but, after a few reaches, this changed, and bluff
points began to invade the stream. Now we were hurled against a rock,
or pressed against the bank; the next moment we were in a whirlpool,
flying about, and with difficulty getting out of it. These whirlpools
were so deep, that with our longest poles, and they were four fathoms,
we could not reach the bottom. At one very large one, we continued
going in a circle for above ten minutes, when we saw a companion raft
coming down upon us. We shouted to the men to try and sheer off, but it
was of no use, and it crashed into us; however, the damage was all for
them. Our heavy raft merely sank a foot, and was driven near enough to
the bank to enable us to get out of this whirlpool, leaving our friends
to repair damages while taking the successive turns from which they had
driven us. I soon began to find that our rafts were unmanageable, and
that we must allow the stream to carry us whither it pleased.
After moving on at a good pace for about a couple of hours, we heard
a roaring in the distance, and I called to the men to stop the raft
if possible, and send ahead to see what was the cause of this sound;
but they thought they could pass the rapid which was before us, and
concluded that it produced the roar we heard. I was of a very different
opinion. This one was bad enough; but in turning the point, how shall I
describe the scene that was presented to me? The almost perpendicular
hills closed in on the river, their lofty trees meeting in an arch
overhead, and the waters dashing through the narrow space, tumbling
over huge rocks, raised waves like those of an angry sea on a rocky
shore; but the worst spot was where the cliffs appeared to have fallen
across the stream, damming it to half its width by a huge tree-crowned
rock, and forming two foaming cascades.
We had been told that the cataract was nine fathoms deep. To stop the
raft was impossible: the pace was too great; and, as we approached this
formidable danger, the men burst into a prayer, which, though they
shouted at the tops of their voices, could scarcely be heard in the
roar. I spoke not, but clutched the side of the raft with one hand and
Ahtan with the other, for fear we should be swept off. As we came to
the edge of the cataract, it looked so deep that the men were awed into
silence, and my only thought was, Can we ever rise out of that abyss?
Down we went. We felt a slight shock, the raft trembled, and in another
moment we were buried in the recoiling waves. We rose again, our bows
forced up into the air, and the stern completely hidden as I glanced
round to look if the men were there, and then over the second tier of
rocks, which were not so serious, as there was a deep pool beyond; and
though we were again buried beneath the waters, yet we touched no rock.
At the first cataract we but grazed the bottom. Had we struck, our raft
must have been dashed to pieces; as it was, the centre trunk was driven
from its place--I was about to say, like an arrow from a bow; but how
far it went I cannot say; it left no trace behind it.
I have attempted since to estimate the length of these falls; but,
after allowing for the exaggeration natural to remembrance of one’s own
adventures, I cannot think they were less than three and two fathoms,
but probably more. However, we passed so rapidly that it was impossible
to judge correctly. On we went, over a small cataract; and then the
men gave vent to their feelings in a frantic yell, which they had
been unable to utter after the great danger. As we cleared the point,
we heard shouts from the bank; and, looking up, saw four of our men
calling upon us to stop, as there were worse dangers ahead.
As this reach was tolerably smooth, one of the men sprang into the
stream with a long rattan in his hand, hoping to reach the shore, but
it was dragged from him before he was half way. Then Musa, choosing a
better spot, plunged in; he reached the shore, but, before he could
land, the rattan was torn from his grasp, and we were swept away. I saw
Musa, breathless, trying to free himself from the waves that dashed him
against the rocks, and in another moment we were out of sight.
Our two skilled men were gone; but we managed to keep the raft
straight, and presently we were caught in a whirlpool. This was our
best chance; one of the men sprang into the water, and was soon ashore.
The rattan was twisted round a tree just as the stream caught us. This
was a trying moment. The rattan began to part as the great strain came
upon it; so I ordered the last man to make straight for the shore, and
draw the raft out of the strength of the stream. The men really exerted
themselves; and, in almost less time than it takes me to write this
down, we were moored comfortably under the bank.
Presently one of the other rafts came round the point; they tried to
join me, but were swept to the other side, where they brought up; the
next followed, and was also secured; the fourth soon came round the
point, but with only old Japer upon it. I trembled for him, but the
old fellow was used to danger, and cleverly brought himself under the
opposite rocks, and threw a rattan on shore. This, however, was torn
out of the hand of a stupid man who ought to have twisted it round a
stump or a rock; nevertheless, an active fellow sprang from one of the
already secured rafts into Japer’s, and twisted a strong rattan round
one of the trunks. Now all were interested, and rushed to help to
prevent the great stream carrying away the rafts.
I was very pleased to see Musa join me. He presently went ahead; and,
after an hour’s absence, returned, telling me he had found a spot where
we could secure ourselves for the night; but that the men requested
that I and Ahtan, as the non-swimmers, would walk to the night’s
resting-place. We found the way very difficult; and, after half an
hour’s hard work, reached the rafts. I now heard that three of the
most active of the party had gone ahead to examine. We had brought up
the rafts in a kind of bay, with the rocks below stretching across the
river, forming formidable rapids. At six p.m. the scouts returned,
bringing the unpleasant news that the river for about two miles was
one succession of rapids; in fact, as far as they had seen it, it was a
continued sheet of white foam, from the innumerable rocks which studded
the stream. To proceed in the rafts was quite impossible, so we made up
our minds to walk.
Now I thought matters began to look sombre, particularly as Ahtan came
to tell me that he had been to several of the men for my rice, and had
found that they had only a day’s provisions left. Upon this I called
the men up, and ascertained that three men had still six days’ rice,
three had four days’, four had two days’, and the rest only provisions
for one day; and, what was very serious for me and Ahtan, all our rice
had been consumed, except sufficient for two days.
It was useless to reproach the men, so I called Ahtan on one side, and
proposed to him that we should in future take thin rice-water, and
trust to the cabbage-palm for our chief support. To this he readily
agreed, and then added in a whisper that he had about two cupfuls of
tapioca flour. I persuaded him that this should be kept, in case one of
us fell ill. I must confess that, being excessively hungry, I was not
sorry to find that he had cooked a fowl--the last but one--and boiled
a lot of rice, before he discovered how short we were. We divided the
food into two portions, and dined heartily.
Rocks, sandstone, dipping to the north-east, at an angle of 18°. It
was in the great cataract, to-day, that my journal was wetted. As we
were twice buried in the recoiling waves, nothing but a single change
escaped being soaked. We made great fires to dry our clothes, but the
continuous rain prevented our completely succeeding.
_6th._--I was up at dawn. There was not much cooking; but Ahtan
having saved a little cold rice, we breakfasted off that, and then
started. We found the Muruts were correct in their account of the
country. The walking was very difficult indeed, either along the sides
of precipitous hills or up the face of them, where our hands came into
as much play as our feet. I kept the men at it till five p.m., making
but little advance over this very difficult country. We were evidently
crossing the Kalio hills which I had noticed on our left in our walk
from Madihit, and then estimated at 5,500 feet; but my barometer was
now out of order.
We encamped on the summit of one of the mountains; and, having found a
little water, we cooked. I noticed that none of the men followed our
example of sparing the food, but eat as if they had been at home; so
that but half have any rice left. I had for a week preserved a small
glass of brandy; and, believing it impossible to feel more exhausted,
I drank it, for the last climb had been such as to render a farther
advance impossible for any of us.
_7th._--To-day the walking was worse than ever--so steep that my
heart almost failed me, but knowing how everybody looked to me, I did
not give way. How continually those lines came to my memory, and how
often I found myself repeating them--
“Jog on, jog on the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a;
A merry heart goes all the day,
Your sad tires in a mile-a.”
We kept on till twelve, when we stopped at a stream to breakfast on
the cabbages of the bengkala palm; exceedingly delicious, but not
satisfying; it was like living on sugar and water. Here the old Pablat
man said he must stay behind, as he had an attack of elephantiasis. I
left his son-in-law with him, and pushed on.
We followed the torrent’s course for some time over broken rocks, when
the man we had constituted our guide turned to the left towards a
mountain that looked nearly perpendicular. There was almost a mutiny;
even Musa declared that they could not face it--they must try the bank
of the river. I represented to them that the Muruts had warned us that
it was impossible to follow that course; but they kept repeating they
would like to try, so I gave way, and we continued for half an hour,
till we reached the Limbang. Here the banks were perpendicular, and we
all sat down for half an hour, looking gloomily at the foaming stream.
But this being of no use, I rose and told the guide that we must go
back to the spot he had before chosen. The men feeling rather ashamed
of themselves, got up with more alacrity, and we faced the difficulty,
commencing the ascent at two p.m., but did not reach the summit till
six p.m., and yet we worked as hard as we possibly could, hoping to get
down to the banks of a running stream. These were evidently the Paya
Paya, or the “very difficult” hills. For several hundred yards we moved
up a narrow spur, about five feet broad generally, but occasionally
narrowing to a single foot, so steep that we had to place our rifles
and guns before us as far as we could reach, and then pull ourselves up
to them.
The sun went down before we stopped for the night. There was no water,
but there was a prospect of heavy rain, and strong puffs of wind, as
black clouds were gathering to the north-east. It was seven o’clock
before I got my tent pitched on a ridge not three feet broad; and then,
there being nothing to eat or drink, we lay down and slept on our
weariness. Fortunately for me, I had managed to dry my Scotch plaid
during our stay for breakfast; and, wrapping myself up in that best of
all companions, I did not feel the cutting winds. I awoke for a few
minutes in the middle of the night, to find that the cold had driven
the men to light a fire; but before I could distinctly distinguish any
one I was off to sleep again, and did not wake till the sun shone on
my face. Yesterday satisfied me that I was in excellent condition to
endure fatigue, as, though I had not drunk any water since breakfast, I
felt no thirst.
_8th._--Being excessively hungry, I determined to have the
remaining fowl, a mere chicken, for breakfast. I thought we deserved
it, having had nothing to eat for dinner, so it was killed before we
started. An hour’s walk brought us to the end of the mountain ridge,
and gave us a fine view of the country. There was Molu with its highest
peak bearing west by south, proving that the western peak, under which
we were last February, is not the loftiest.
It appeared to me that we had clearly passed the greatest difficulties
as regards country; it was now more open, the hills drawing back
farther from the banks of the river, which wound at our feet some
three thousand feet below. I now knew from the bearings that we were
north of our boats; they lay as nearly as possible between us and Molu.
I therefore proposed to the men that we should abandon the main stream
and push due west, straight for the Madihit; but they had no faith in
compasses, and seeing a mountain range nearly as high as the one we
were on between us and what I affirmed to be the Madihit, they said
they preferred keeping to the banks of the Limbang, which now appeared
to be less difficult.
We did not long continue admiring this extensive prospect; our thoughts
referred to water and something to eat, so we commenced the descent,
which was nearly as steep as yesterday’s ascent; but going down hill,
though trying to the knees, does not take away the breath. We did not,
however, reach a stream till nearly two, when we stopped for breakfast.
Ahtan, smiling at the thought of a fowl, got the breakfast ready in a
very short time. The men proposed that we should spend the night here,
but I declined, insisting that we should reach the Limbang. It poured
with rain, but it was necessary we should exert ourselves. I pushed on
with Ahtan and two others.
When I was gone, one of the men lay down in the path and burst out
crying, saying he should never see his mother again; a companion threw
himself down too, but the rest of the party followed me. These two I
rather pitied, as this was their second day without rice; but they
and their two friends were the most improvident of the lot. One day
they began to cook without orders; the rice was just wetted, but they
were told to move on, and not cook till we all stopped. They therefore
wrapped up their breakfast, and moved on. Presently I saw a packet,
and picking it up, found that they had thrown away the rice, saying it
was too much trouble to carry it; another party, on its being handed
to them, quickly appropriated it. Another day they cooked three times,
throwing away what was left. It was disgusting to see such waste of
food; but they suffered for it. At five p.m. I reached the main stream,
and feared I should have to encamp without tents, as I could hear
nothing of the party. One of the men volunteered to go back to search
for them, and at sunset they were all collected.
I know of no sounds more curious than those which are sometimes heard
in the old forest. Last night we frequently noticed the cries of the
Argus pheasant, both male and female. In the deep silence one is
startled by the thrice-repeated “Tu-wau,” in a clear and sonorous
tone, and that is the crow of the cock. The cry of the female is
similar, but more quickly repeated; but both are very pleasing to hear.
Occasionally, also, we could distinguish the clear and distinct note
of the Jelatuk bird, which a stranger might mistake for the echo of a
stroke from an axe.
There is another sound, only heard in the oldest forest, and that is
as if a mighty tree were rent in twain. I often asked the cause, and
was assured it was the camphor tree splitting asunder, on account of
the accumulation of camphor in some particular part--an explanation
which was not satisfactory. During heavy squalls we have often been
put in fear by the crash of falling timber; but our men were very
particular in not pitching the tents near half-rotten trees. The Argus
pheasant is found in many places we have passed during this expedition,
and occasionally in the jungle we have come across open spots strewed
with the feathers of the cock bird, where two have been struggling for
mastery. It would appear as if they always chose the same spots for
their fights, as the ground was free from grass and brushwood, and was
beaten hard.
CHAPTER VII.
MY LIMBANG JOURNAL--_Concluded_.
Stopped for a Day--Five start for Provisions--The Sick
Men left behind join us--No Shoes--Weakness from want of
Food--Leeches--Stop again--Collect Food--Anecdote of Female
Orang Utan and Murut--Again construct Rafts--Present of
a Cup full of Rice--Start on the Rafts--Abandon them--A
Bear--The River--Immense Pebbly Flats--Long Walks--Traces
of the Advance Party--Wild Fruit--Sour Oranges--Recognize a
Hill--Fruit of the Jintawan, or Indian-rubber Plant--Find
Remains of Bees’-nest--The British Flag--Reach the
Madihit--Bad Conduct of the Advance Party--Food nearly all
consumed--An unfeeling Father--Proposed Punishment--Ravages
of the Bears--Anecdote of Ahtan--Return in the Boats--The
Herd of Wild Cattle--Wound a Bull, but do not get it--A
slight Supper--Start in a Sampir--Ahtan ill--The last of
the Food--News from Brunei--Reach the Town--Arrival of the
rest of the Party--Bornean Travelling--Measure Distance by
Fatigue--Slow Progress necessary--Active Murut--Average
Rate of Advance--Great Mistakes made in the Estimates of
Distance--Instances--Mr. Motley’s Account of his Advance up
the Limbang--Mr. De Crespigny’s Mistake in the Latitude of the
River Damit and Position of the Mountain of Molu--Remarks on
the Map--Causes of the continued Health of my Followers--The
Tents--Mistake in trusting to Native Huts--Native
Geographical Information tested--Found correct--Arrival of
the Orang Kaya Upit--Tragical Death of Pangeran Mokata, the
Shabandar--Two Years after--Sad Fate of a Party of Adang
Muruts--Murder by Orang Kaya Gomba--Head-hunting--Heads
valued, but none seen--Incident of meeting Head-hunters--No
Treacherous Designs--Inefficient Government--Desecration of
the Graveyards--Chinese Secret Societies, or Hués--Ahtan
joins one--Robbery of the Iron Chest from the Consulate--The
Sultan’s Method of extorting a Confession--Obstinacy of
Ahtan--Officers of the Secret Society--Chest restored--Prisoners
released--The Hué broken up--Treatment of Prisoners--Musa and
the Priest--Threats--Personal Regard for some of my Followers.
_9th._--This morning Musa was very feverish, so the men asked me
to stop a day to collect provisions. To this I unwillingly assented,
but they did little else than lie down. About nine a.m. five of the men
proposed that I should allow them to leave their muskets and all their
baggage, and push on as fast as possible to the boats, while I moved on
quietly with the sick and sore-footed. I consented, on the condition
that they would stay at the boats no longer than would be necessary to
cook a meal; that then they were to return laden with provisions. To
this they agreed, and then left us. The two who stayed behind the day
before yesterday came up with us; it was for them I was anxious. During
the ascent of the steep mountain on the 8th the last remnant of my
shoes was carried away, and yesterday I attempted to protect my feet by
fastening some goats’ skin over them in the form of moccassins. To-day
I am trying to improve them, but with very little success.
_10th._--Musa having shaken off his fever, was enabled to start;
but all the men are weak, and many are ailing. Though perfectly well
in health, I find that, having only had for yesterday’s dinner a glass
of rice-water with the palm-cabbage, I am not fit for very long walks,
particularly as my moccassins are cut to pieces by the rough stones and
thorns, and I am compelled to walk bare-footed. My greatest torment
are the leeches getting between my toes and crawling up my trousers,
reaching even to my waist, where the tight belt prevented their farther
progress. Squeezing a little tobacco-juice made them drop off, but I
could not be continually stopping to do this.
_11th._--We stopped all day. The industrious cut down some
Loba-palms, and made a little sago; the lazy collected a few cabbages.
I tried a little of the former; it was indeed delicious.
Some of the men, who wandered farther than the others in search of
wild fruits, reported seeing some very large monkeys, which they said
might be orang-utans, and whilst speaking of them I was reminded of
the various stories told of people being carried off by them. I have
referred to this subject in my account of my journeys among the Sea
Dayaks, but although many stories are related of the male orang-utan
carrying off young Dayak maidens into the jungle, yet it is seldom
that we hear of the female orang-utan running off with a man. But the
Muruts of Padas tell the following narrative, which, they say, may
be believed. Some years ago, one of their young men was wandering in
the jungle, armed with a sumpitan, or blow-pipe, and a sword. He came
to the banks of a pebbly stream, and being a hot day, he thought he
would have a bathe. He placed his arms and clothes at the foot of a
tree, and then went into the water. After a time, being sufficiently
refreshed, he was returning to dress, when he perceived an enormous
female orang-utan standing between him and the tree. She advanced
towards him, as he stood paralyzed by surprise, and seizing him by the
arm, compelled him to follow her to a branching tree and climb up it.
When he reached her resting-place, consisting of boughs and branches
woven into a comfortable nest, she made him enter. There he remained
some months jealously watched by his strange companion, fed by her on
fruits and the cabbage of the palm, and rarely permitted to touch the
earth with his feet, but compelled to move from tree to tree. This life
continued some time, till the female orang-utan becoming less watchful
permitted the Murut more liberty. He availed himself of it to slip down
the trunk of the tree and run to the place where he had formerly left
his weapons. She, seeing his attempted escape, followed, to be pierced,
as she approached him, by a poisoned arrow. I was told if I would
ascend the Padas river as far as the man’s village, I might hear the
story from his own lips, as he was still alive.
_12th._--Walked on a mile, the men excessively lazy. Finding the
river smooth, they proposed trying rafts; so we stopped to construct
them. One of the men, observing that I was dining on a cabbage-palm
boiled in a little rice-water, presented me with a cup full of uncooked
rice. I was very grateful to him for it; but we put it by, in case the
palms should fail us, as they do in some districts.
_13th._--About nine, we pushed off, and got on very well for
two hours. Found one of the rafts smashed up against a rock, and the
men away walking. Continued till about one o’clock, when ours also
became fixed on a rock, and our men were too dispirited to get it off;
and saying that the rapids ahead of us were dangerous, they proposed
walking to-morrow. We should have thought nothing of such paltry
difficulties a week ago, but the men were losing their courage with
their strength. I refused, however, to stop till to-morrow, and walked
on for a couple of hours. In crossing a ravine to-day, we disturbed a
female bear, which, however, dashed with her cubs into thick brushwood,
so without dogs it was useless following her. She roared in a manner
worthy of an animal double her size.
_14th._--The river still full of rapids; but the hills are
gradually receding from the banks, giving it more space, and it
sometimes spreads out into extensive sheets of water, with immense
pebbly flats. Islands are also beginning to appear. It was again
proposed to build rafts, but I steadily refused, and kept walking
till nearly five. After sunset, the last stragglers overtook us. We
continually came upon the traces of the advance-party. At one of their
resting-places, we found the bones of a fine fish, which by some means
they had secured. Our old Pakatan declared they had either found it
stranded, or else had startled a kite from his prey. It proved to be
the former, though the latter had happened to us once.
_15th._--Yesterday and to-day the character of the forest has
altered. We are now marching through the old farming grounds of the
Muruts; found some of their fruit trees; among others, one covered
with fine-looking oranges, but intolerably sour. I secured the opium
bottle to-day, intending to take a dose to deaden the pangs of hunger,
but I put it off till the evening, thinking it might interfere with my
walking. I noticed near the orange-tree above mentioned that the whole
ground was a mass of water-worn pebbles, evidently the ancient bed of
the stream; it was now at least a hundred feet above the water’s edge.
At half-past four p.m. I brought up for the night, and after bathing
stretched myself on my back, munching a great lump of cabbage, when my
eyes, wandering over the scene, fell on a hill about three miles ahead
of us. I sat up and looked at it again; and, turning to my companions,
said, “Why, that reminds me of the high land near the mouth of the
Madihit;” but we agreed that it was impossible, as our five men had
been gone six days, and we felt assured that we should have met them
ere this if we were so near our boats as that, particularly as we, both
yesterday and to-day, had made very long walks. Since we have had a
bearing of Molu, we have been keeping generally in a west course, but
the river has taken some very extraordinary windings.
Having secured some fruit of the Jintawan, or Indian-rubber plant,
and some cabbages, I was enabled to satisfy my hunger before going to
sleep, so put off taking any laudanum, to which I had a very great
dislike. The Jintawan fruit is very pleasantly acid, about the size of
a very large pear, and of a deep orange colour. It consists of a thick
rind full of Indian-rubber, surrounding some pulp-covered seeds. One
of the plants we came across was very handsome, growing in the most
luxuriant manner over a lofty tree with few branches. The Jintawan
is a creeper, and this one had extended itself at least forty feet
up the trunk and had covered the outspreading boughs. It was loaded
with fruit, but my men had so lost heart that not one would climb the
tree, but contented themselves with picking up the over-ripe produce
which had fallen on the ground below. We had another very happy
find to-day, for while passing under a fine tapang-tree, we noticed
the remains of a bees’ nest scattered about, and every particle was
eagerly appropriated. From the marks around it appeared as if a bear
had climbed this lofty tree and torn down the nest to be devoured by
its young below, as there were numerous tracks of the smaller animals
around, but whether the comb had been sucked by the bears or not was
very immaterial to our men, who rejoiced in securing the little honey
still clinging to it.
_16th._--Started early. About half my followers had so delayed
us by their constantly lagging behind, that I determined to wait for
them no longer, but to push on with such men as would follow me with
all their strength. We felt that it would be impossible to walk many
days farther on our scanty fare. The lazy ones having heard of our
arrangement, tried to keep up with us, and did do so till eight, when
I heard a shout from the foremost man, “Bandera! bandera!--the flag!
the flag!” We rushed down the side of the hill like madmen, the fellows
shouting for joy. Sure enough, there was the British flag hoisted, and
our small boats at the mouth of the Madihit, with our five men looking
fat and well beside my pale and famished followers. The rascals having
left my guns and all the baggage in the jungle, and all being in good
health, had managed to reach the Madihit in three days, and then set
to work to eat and drink as much as possible.
We arrived to find the provisions nearly gone; they said the bears had
found out our cache and destroyed everything, and the only provisions
left were those we put into the garei. I could only divide a cupful of
beans to each man, as the five had managed to consume thirty pounds of
sago and forty-two pints of beans in the course of four days, and they
confessed to have daily caught very fine fish. But what angered the men
most was the signs of waste around, where, having only half finished
a plate of sago, they had thrown the rest away. I saw some picking up
the burnt pieces that had not been washed away by the rain. I asked
why, according to their agreement, they had not come back to meet us,
knowing that we had several sick men. They put the blame on each other:
one man, a Javanese, had left his sick son with us, but he unfeelingly
observed that he was old enough to look after himself; that son had
given us more trouble than any one else, both in going and returning.
I searched their baskets, and found that they had not only hidden some
more beans, but had stolen some of my cloth, though I could not fix
on the man. I determined to punish them, so told them to go back and
fetch the things they had left in the forest; or, on my return, I would
submit the case to the Sultan, whether they had not forfeited wages by
their unfair abandonment of their sickly companions. They started off,
but their cowardly hearts failed them, and before night they came back.
The ravages of the bears were distressing. They destroyed a Deane’s
pistol-case, tore open my box of books, and ruined them; reduced the
cloth to shreds, and tumbled it into the mud, where the white ants
afterwards finished the spoiling; opened the tin boxes containing the
sugar and biscuits, and of course devoured them; so that I have nothing
left but coffee and arrack. After Musa had cooked a meal, a very frugal
one, he went off with a party to fetch the garei, hoping to find a
little sago left, but was disappointed.
In the evening caught a few fish, but they were not much among so many.
About seven, a most satisfactory savour rose to my nostrils. I found
that Ahtan, having discovered a jar of pork fat, was preparing some
cakes. I divided them, but he said, “No; you, sir, have the larger
body, therefore should have the larger share.” I am not much given to
emotions, but I never felt so thankful as when, stretched in the old
Kayan hut, I watched them preparing an evening meal, and thought of all
the dangers we had gone through without a single accident. True, we had
lost guns, and goods, and ruined instruments of some value; but what of
that?--there was no one the worse for his exertions. What was hunger
now we were so near home?
_17th._--Started early; and, as we have had no rain for two days,
the river was quiet, and we only reached an island about fifteen miles
from the Madalam. It shows the difference, however, between ascending
and descending a river. About two a.m., our garei being well ahead, we
saw before us a herd of wild cattle, quietly picking at a few blades
of grass on a broad pebbly flat. I landed with a couple of men, to
get between them and the jungle. I was within twenty yards of the
nearest, a piebald, and was crawling through the tangled bushes to get
a sight of him, whom I could hear browsing near me, when there arose a
shout, then a rush, and the cattle were off dashing close to me, but
perfectly concealed by the matted brushwood. It was the crew of one
of the newly-arrived boats that, regardless of the warnings of their
companions, had thus lost us a chance of a good dinner. I felt that,
if my gun had been charged with shot, I could almost have peppered
them. Shortly after I shot a pig through the back as he was crossing
the river; but as all my men were Mahomedans, it was not worth while
tracing him in the jungle. He bled so profusely in the water that he
could not have run far.
About five, we were passing down a rapid at a great pace, when one
of the men touched me and pointed. I looked up, and there was a
magnificent bull, three parts grown, standing within fifteen yards
of me. To put up my gun and let fly was the work of a moment; but,
before we had dashed on many yards, the beast, which had fallen on his
forehead, was up and away. After a little time, we managed to stop the
garei; and, landing, found traces of the beast’s blood. My feet were
so painfully wounded that I could not manage to follow it, but left it
to my men. A couple came up with him, as he stood with his legs well
stretched out, bleeding profusely. He took no notice of them, even when
they were within spearing distance; but all their nerve was gone, and
they were afraid to thrust their weapons into him. They waited till
the whole mob of hunters arrived, when the bull apparently recovering
himself, dashed away into the jungle.
Having secured the boats under the islands, I divided a tablespoonful
of beans each, with a little pork fat to those who would take it.
Musa told me that most of the men wanted to stay behind and follow
the wounded Tambadau; but that, if I wished to go on, there were five
volunteers who would pull straight to Brunei, now about a hundred miles
off by river. To this I agreed.
_18th._--I get away at daylight in a sampir with five men. Ahtan
with an attack of fever and ague. The reaction was too much for him, so
I stopped at an island about five miles from the Madalam to cook. I now
produced my secret store of beans, and the cupful of rice that I had
treasured up since it was given us on the 12th. The beans I gave to the
men, and the rice I had boiled into a thin sort of gruel for Ahtan. I
thought his feverish symptoms arose principally from over fatigue and
hunger. In fact, after he had swallowed a strong dose of quinine, and
taken half the gruel, he felt much better; the rest of it I gave to the
men, as I wanted to give them sufficient strength to pull to Pengkalan
Jawa. I would not take anything myself, as I did nothing but sit all
day. I reserved my powers for the food I knew the Chinese trader there
would quickly prepare for us.
As we approached the more frequented parts of the river, we met some
Muruts, who told us that the report of my death had brought forty
steamers to the capital to revenge it, and that if I did not turn up
the place was to be burnt. I knew this was one of the usual stories
that arise from very little, but still I was anxious to get home; but
with all our exertions we did not reach the Chinese trader’s house
till 7 p.m. He received us most hospitably, produced tea, sugar-candy,
biscuit, and dried fish, to stay our appetites, while a proper meal was
prepared. In about an hour this appeared, and we managed to consume a
very large fowl each, with an amount of rice that even startled the
Baba. Before leaving at midnight, I made arrangements that a plentiful
meal should be provided for the garei’s crew.
_19th._--After pulling about fourteen hours, we reached Brunei
by 2 p.m., to find the people beginning to wonder at our absence. The
forty steamers proved to be Captain Cresswell, of the _Surprise_,
who had visited the capital about ten days before with Mr. Low. The
latter was beginning to be uneasy about my absence, and was preparing a
party to come and search for me.
_20th._--My boats now arrived, having failed to get the Tambadau.
They said they followed him by the blood till mid-day, when they lost
his traces among those of a herd which he had joined. I suspect they
did not follow him very far.
Thus ends my journal.
As I have now made many journeys in Borneo, and seen much of forest
walking, I think I can speak of it with something like certainty. I
have ever found, in recording progress, that we can seldom allow more
than a mile an hour under ordinary circumstances. Sometimes, when
extremely difficult or winding, we do not make half a mile an hour. On
certain occasions, when very hard pressed, I have seen the men manage a
mile and a half; but, with all our exertions, I have never yet recorded
more than ten miles progress in a day through thick pathless forests,
and that was after ten hours of hard work. Of course we actually walk
more than we record, as one cannot calculate the slight windings of
the way; but allowing for all this, I have the strongest suspicion
that Madame Pfeiffer measured her miles by her fatigue. She talks of
twenty miles a day as a common performance of hers; and another visitor
to this island beats her, recording walking thirty miles in one day
through Bornean forests--an utter impossibility.
There was an Adang man among the wax-hunters, the one who accompanied
our guide for a short distance, who was pointed out to me as a model of
activity, and he certainly appeared so; well built, strong, but light,
he skimmed the ground; and the story is told of him, that on receiving
information of the illness of his child, he started home, leaving
everything behind him but his spear and a little food, and walked from
forty to forty-five miles in two days. No European that I have ever
seen would have had a chance with him in his own forests.
Six miles a day is quite enough for any man who wishes to take his
followers long journeys, unless specially favoured by the ground and
the paths; Galton, in speaking of African travelling, says three miles
a day with waggons, horses, and cattle, and he is of some authority.
I have often thought that we must have walked twenty miles, but the
bearings have always proved to me that we have seldom done half that
distance. It requires great experience not to judge distance by the
fatigue we feel.
Whilst referring to the mistakes in the estimates of distance, I may
notice the very remarkable errors into which two visitors to the
Limbang have fallen. Mr. Motley[9] mentions exploring that stream to
an estimated distance of one hundred and fifty miles, by the windings
of the river, and about fifty in a general south-west direction. He
reached the Limbuak village, which by my measurement is under twenty
miles in a straight line from the mouth: fifty miles in a direct line
to the south-west, would have nearly brought him to the Baram, across
numerous ranges of hills, and several navigable streams, and a hundred
and fifty miles up the river would have brought him nearly to the
farthest point I reached, long past the limestone districts. It proves
how impossible it is to trust to estimates.
The next curious mistake I may notice, was made by Mr. de Crespigny;
he ascended the river Limbang as far as the river Damit. I have seen
a sketch map of his, and he places the mouth of that stream in north
latitude, 3° 48’, and the mountain of Molu to the north-east of it, in
latitude 4° 3’, whereas Molu Peak is a little to the westward of south
from the Damit, and nearly twenty-five miles distant in a direct line.
In drawing attention to these errors, I by no means claim immunity from
them in the map of the Limbang and Baram rivers which accompanies
this volume; but I think they will be found free from gross errors.
The course of the latter river was taken down by Captain Brett of the
_Pluto_, and observations of the latitude and longitude of the
town of Lañgusan were made by many of the officers on board. In my land
journeys, I had very inferior compasses, as I was unable to take with
me the valuable levels and other instruments obligingly lent me by Dr.
Coulthard, on account of their weight and size; but I used them as long
as I was in my boats, to lay down the position of the mountains; and
in order to enable me to correct my own errors, I put down the day’s
observations on a rough map every evening during the journey, except
after we had shot the cascade and wetted the paper too much to permit
it being handled roughly.
I may add, that of the whole party of nineteen, none after our return
suffered severely from the exposure and privations we had undergone,
and I believe the real reason was, that we always were dry at night.
For many years we trusted during our expeditions to the leaf huts the
natives are accustomed to construct for us and for themselves; but
although with sufficient time, and when good materials are plentiful,
they manage to make them tolerably watertight, yet they are never
so good as the simple tents we always took with us during our later
expeditions. With proper ropes and everything fitted to enable us to
raise these tents on cross poles in ten minutes, the two did not weigh
more than twenty pounds, and afforded comfortable accommodation for our
whole party of nineteen people, with all our baggage, and on occasions
our six guides took advantage of them also.
I had suffered severely from exposure on former expeditions,
particularly when we ascended the Sakarang, and were eight days
sleeping in the leaf huts hastily erected by our followers. Of the
seven Englishmen who slept on shore, I believe only one escaped without
some severe attack of illness, and I remember the late Mr. Brereton
mentioning that on his return from a visit to the Bugan country, where
his men had been greatly exposed, a fourth of his party died of various
diseases. Another precaution I took was to carry myself a few night
things, as a light silk jacket, a pair of loose sleeping drawers of
the same material, a jersey, and a dry towel, so that if my men lagged
far behind, I was not kept for hours in my wet clothes; and whilst
travelling in these forests you are always wet, as if there be no rain
there are sure to be many rivers to ford.
On my return, I tried to remember the geographical information that
was given me before starting. I was told it would take six days from
Blimbing to Madihit: leaving out the two days’ detention from freshes,
it took us about three hours over the six days. Even the walking
distance was really correct; it was only two days from the Adang
landing-place, and seven from Madihit; as, although we took ten, yet
for the first five days we did not do a fair half-day’s work on any of
them. We were warned that it would be impossible to use rafts, and that
the banks were almost impassable, and we indeed found it so.
Many months before starting, I was told that if I wished to penetrate
far into the interior, to try the Trusan, and not the Limbang, as
the former was inhabited, the latter not. I went up the Trusan a few
miles, but found it so small, I had no idea it penetrated to so great a
distance. The fact is, that the rains run off very fast, and that the
ordinary states of the rivers give no idea of the amount of water they
bring down, but had we taken that route, we should have reached our
farthest point with comparatively little fatigue.
The Orang Kaya Upit arrived at his house November 13th, twenty-five
days after I reached Brunei; so that it is fortunate I did not wait
for him. I may add, that on November 20th, some Bisaya chiefs set upon
pañgeran Makota, the shabandar, and killed him. They were wearied
with his exactions. The immediate cause of his death was seizing the
daughters of seven Orang Kayas, one of whom he had in his curtains when
attacked, and this caused his death. The girl pointed him out to her
father, trying to escape in a small canoe. The alarm was given, and
his boat tilting over while he tried to avoid the shower of spears and
stones, he fell into the stream and was drowned; for he was the only
Malay I ever heard of who could not swim. Such was the end of this
clever bad man. The Sultan was furious, but his fury was not shared
by his four viziers; so that the affair ended by a dozen lives being
taken, instead of the hundreds the Sultan desired.
* * * * *
_Brunei, February 8th, 1861._--Above two years have passed since
I wrote this journal. The scheme of building a fort at the Madalam
mouth did not succeed, as the Sultan, after the shabandar’s death,
was very unwilling to assist any of the aborigines. I was away during
the year 1860, and in the course of that time, a party of the Muruts,
from the upper Trusan, came over and encamped at the mouth of the
Salindong stream, and from thence sent on three men in a bark canoe
to tell their friends of their presence. These men met the Orang Kaya
Gomba, a Bisayan, at Batang Parak, and were treacherously slain by
him. The Muruts waited a long time at Salindong, hoping to be fetched
away by their friends. They could not walk the whole distance, as they
had their women and children and all their worldly goods with them,
intending to remove to the lower Limbang, and live with the Orang Kaya
Upit.
While thus detained, they were surprised by a large party of Kayans,
and every one taken or slain. However, one of the prisoners afterwards
managed to get away, and reached his friends, bringing this sad tale.
The Orang Kaya Gomba declares that he mistook the three for Kayans,
which is almost impossible, as no head-hunter would have been found
paddling down a hostile stream in a bark canoe. Neither the Sultan nor
any of the viziers will make the least inquiry into this affair, but
the memory of it is treasured up in the hearts of the Muruts, and Orang
Kaya Gomba may yet meet with a bloody death.
I have remarked that during all our wanderings near Kina Balu we only
at one place found the dried heads of enemies hung up in the villages
there, and during my journeys up the Limbang, I do not remember
noticing any, and yet Orang Kaya Gomba’s murderous action shows they do
value them, which is confirmed by pañgeran mumin making a present of
the head of the man he killed to the Gadang Muruts; and during my stay
in Brunei, I have met small parties of head-hunters, but seeking only
the heads of their real enemies. Yet I have always avoided spending a
night in their immediate neighbourhood, and have kept our arms ready
for instant service.
One evening, during a heavy squall, we took shelter in a little river
to the south of Point Kitam, in the Limbang Bay, and to our exceeding
discomfort found a Murut boat with eighteen armed men in ambush round
a short turn of the stream; we knew they were not waiting for us,
but having only four men, and a couple of fowling-pieces, we did not
feel secure in their neighbourhood. As we rowed past them they took
no notice of us, but no sooner had we anchored, than they pulled off
towards our boat; but we should have felt little discomfort, had they
not had their mat coverings stowed away, while all the Muruts had their
arms ready for action. I told my men to show no sign of alarm, but
keeping our guns within reach, waited their coming.
It was a great relief to find that they only came to ask for a little
tobacco, but some of us had been accustomed to the neighbourhood of
the Seribas and Sakarang Dayaks, who on head-hunting expeditions spare
none, if of a weaker party. We found they were on the look-out for
some of the Tabuns, who, flying before the Kayans, had established
themselves at Batu Miris, near the entrance of the Limbang river, and
with whom they had an ancient feud. To show the apathy of the Bornean
Government, I may mention that it permitted these skirmishes to take
place close to the capital, and one day some of my men who were cutting
wood near the Consulate, were startled by seeing two Tabuns rushing
frantically past them; in a few minutes five Trusan Muruts appeared in
full chase, and eagerly inquiring the direction taken by the fugitives,
hurried at full speed on a false track purposely pointed out by my
Manilla men.
Another fact I may mention is that many Bisaya labourers who go over
to our colony of Labuan to seek for work have actually attempted to
disinter the bodies of those of our countrymen and women who have been
buried there. They have tried this to the great grief and discomfort
of their surviving friends, but the Bisayas have generally, if not
always, been disappointed by the great depth of the graves, and their
inefficient tools. It appears a disgusting thing that there should be
any necessity to watch over the graves of one’s friends to prevent them
being desecrated.
I shall have occasion hereafter to mention the Secret Societies
established by the Chinese, but as an illustration of the influence
the members exercise over each other, I will tell the following
story:--Perhaps those who have read my journeys to Kina Balu, and this
Limbang journal, may be interested in the fate of my boy Ahtan, and I
am sorry to say his conduct ultimately made me lose all interest in
him. In the year 1858 the Chinese in Brunei started a Secret Society,
called there a Hué; they said they were a branch of the Tienti, or
Heaven and Earth Society, that has ramifications in nearly all the
countries in which the Chinese have spread. At first but few joined it,
but by threats and cajolery they at last induced nearly all but the
head traders to enter it, and on one of the great Chinese religious
feasts, Ahtan asked my permission to go to it.
When he returned, it appeared to me he had a very hang-dog look, and
next day I noticed he was very busy about my medicine-chest, and I
found my laudanum bottle on the table. Being very much engaged at the
time preparing my letters for the mail, I took no particular notice of
his movements, but immediately after dinner, having taken coffee, I
felt drowsy, and had scarcely entered my mosquito room, when I fell on
the sofa, and remained in a stupefied sleep for thirteen hours. On my
recovery, Ahtan came with a scared look, and said somebody had stolen
my heavy iron chest, and it proved to be the case, but as I had six
dogs, one of whom was a savage mastiff, my suspicions instantly fell
upon my own people, and passing over my household servants, I fixed on
my boatmen as the culprits.
The Sultan, however, sent and begged I would leave the matter in his
hands, and on my expressing my willingness, instantly arrested two
of my servants, Ahtan and a Manilla Christian named Peter. They were
separated, and at dead of night the Sultan went himself with a drawn
kris in his hand to the latter, and said if he would confess he would
save his life, but if not----; he did not finish the sentence, as
Peter instantly fell on his knees, and clinging to the Sultan’s feet,
begged that his life might be spared and he would explain all. It
appeared that while he held and quieted the mastiff, Ahtan had taken
a blacksmith and a carpenter to the chest, and they had carried it
off. As these men were constantly employed by me, it explained the
silence of the other dogs; but though he could tell how the chest was
carried off, he knew nothing of what had since become of it. The Sultan
then left him and went to Ahtan, but no threats or entreaties had the
slightest effect on him, as he had sworn in the most solemn manner
to be faithful to the members of the Tienti Hué, and would confess
nothing. The two accused were seized, and as they also belonged to the
Secret Society, suspicion was directed to it. I sent for the chief and
the other officers of the Hué, and told them the whole story, and said,
if the chest unbroken, with the 80_l._ in it, and all the papers,
were not placed on the ground before my house within forty-eight hours,
I would turn the Sultan’s attention on them. They protested their utter
ignorance of the robbery, which was probably true, but they well knew
how to influence all their members, and before the forty-eight hours
were over, the chest, untouched, was thrown on the mud just above my
house. Finding after a fortnight that the prisoners were receiving
treatment totally at variance with English ideas of justice, I sent and
begged the Sultan to pardon them, and turn his attention to getting rid
of the Secret Society from his dominions. He complied, and it merely
required a warm recommendation on his part to the chief officers to
break up the society, to induce them to do it, as he declared that
every robbery in future should be laid at their door, and every crime
committed should be avenged on them. As the officers were men doing
a good business at the time, they quickly got rid of their banners
and meeting house, and I heard no more of the Hué during the rest
of the time I remained in Borneo, but during my last visit I found
the chief officers of the society reduced to comparative poverty, as
their partners and agents in Singapore, happening to be real British
subjects, had refused to have anything further to do with them when
they knew of their conduct.
I requested the Sultan to let the prisoners go, as all except Ahtan
were kept in the stocks in an open verandah, exposed to sun and rain,
and tormented the whole day by boat boys, who delighted in torturing
those whom they considered as infidels: in Brunei they have no prisons
whatever. Ahtan was better treated, as he was known to have been a
favourite servant, though his conduct was very bad, particularly in
dosing me with opium, yet I could not forget his kindness to me during
our wanderings in the interior, and asked for his liberty on that plea.
The Sultan’s answer was,--“The plea is good, but the stubbornness of
that boy in refusing to confess when all the others had acknowledged
their crime, deserves death.” I heard a few months ago that he was
keeping a small shop in Labuan.
A man in whom I felt a very great interest, and was very sorry to part
with, was Musa, my Manilla steersman and coxswain; as a boy he had
been educated as a Christian, but having been captured very young
and sold by the Balignini pirates to the Mahomedans, he had been
circumcised, and joined their communion. He had a particular antipathy
to Signor Cuarteron, who returned the dislike, and used gravely to
assure me that my quiet, respectful follower had a design to massacre
him. When the priests first came to Brunei, all my Manilla men attended
mass, but were suddenly disgusted with something which took place;
and on my inquiring the cause, one of them said, “We don’t like to be
told that if we don’t again join the Padre’s religion, he will send
for a Spanish man-of-war to take us all off prisoners to Manilla.” If
he really did threaten them, he made a great mistake, as some of them
never went near the church again. Musa, though modest and gentle in his
manner, was as brave as a lion, and would have followed me anywhere.
Though very short, he was squarely built, and exceedingly strong; a
very powerful swimmer, and good boatman. Many of these men excite a
personal regard, and I have always felt that for Inchi Mahomed, my
Malay writer, who was entrusted with the charge of the Consulate during
my lengthened absences, and he well deserved the trust.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SULU ARCHIPELAGO.
FIRST VISIT.
Picturesque Islands--Balambañgan--An old English
Settlement--Large Monkeys--Optical Illusions--Flights
of Birds--The Curlew--The way we shot them in
Sarawak--Game--Banguey--Mali Wali--Cleared Hills--Fine
Water--Sweet-smelling Jasmine--Cagayan Sulu--Intercourse
with the Inhabitants--Appearance of the Country--Lovely
Scenery--Market--Inhabitants--Insolent Traders--The
Crater Harbour--Wall of Evergreen--Inner Lake--Climb the
Cliff--Scenery--Alligators numerous--Sulu--Appearance
from the Ship--Sugh, the Capital--Mr. Wyndham--The
Watering-place--Suspicious Natives--Fugitives from
Balignini--Reports--A Market--The Mountaineers civil--Walk to
the Palace--The Stockades--Armed Crowd--Audience Hall--Absurd
Reports--The Sultan and his Nobles--Dress--Politeness
of the Sultan--Return to the Ship--Datu Daniel--The
Racecourse--Effect of Dutch Shot--Tulyan Bay--Alarm of
Villagers--Sulu Government--Laws--Feuds--The Mahomedan and the
Pork--Population--Fighting-men--Slave Market--Dignified carriage
of the Nobles--Dress--The Balignini--Dutch Attack--Appearance of
the Country--Good Position of Island--Tulyan--Basilan--Numerous
Islets--Samboañgan--Spanish Convict Settlement--Description of
Country--Fort--Town--Shops--The Church--The Men--The Women--The
Corner Shop--A Ball--Dancing difficult--Waltzes--Supplies at
Samboañgan--A lonely Grave.
During all the voyages I have made, I have never beheld islands so
picturesque as those scattered over the surface of the Sulu Seas,
or whose inhabitants more merited notice. I will therefore give a
short account of the visits I made thither, before the attacks of
the Spanish forces had altered the ancient state of affairs. I have
already delineated the north-west coast, and will therefore commence
my description from the island of Balambañgan, to the north of Maludu
Bay, which must always be of some interest to Englishmen from our two
unsuccessful attempts to form a settlement there.
We dropped anchor off Balambañgan, which at night appears a low wooded
island. I visited it in the morning in a cutter, and vainly sought any
fresh traces of human beings, though we found some old deserted huts
of the fishermen who frequent this shore for tripang. Continuing our
explorations, we noticed something moving along the beach, and there
were various conjectures among our party, some affirming it to be a
buffalo, others a man; I never was more deceived in my own estimate of
the size of an animal, as it proved to be a large monkey, which with
its companions was seeking shell-fish on the sands; it was certainly
very large, but not of such dimensions as to warrant its being compared
to a bull, but there appeared to be some optical illusion caused by its
looming over the water.
Pursuing our path along the beach, the seamen at last thought they saw
houses among the trees, but on landing we found we were again deceived
by a row of white rocks, prettily overhung with creepers. Though no
traces of inhabitants were to be found, yet animal life was well
represented, innumerable monkeys swarmed at the edge of the jungle,
while flights of birds of every kind kept rising before us. I never
saw more monstrous pelicans, but after having been so deceived by the
monkeys, I must not attempt to estimate their height. The best birds,
however, for culinary purposes, were the curlews, some of which are as
large as small fowls: unfortunately we were not provided with shot, and
ball fell harmlessly among them.
They are wary birds, but may yet be readily circumvented. There is a
spot at the entrance of one of the minor branches of the Sarawak river,
where the curlews congregate in thousands, but only at the height of
spring-tides can you get profitable shots at them. There are broad
sands there, and the birds spread over them to feed; by degrees the
rising waters gradually press them back towards the wooded shore; and
as beach after beach is covered, they fly screaming above in wide
circles, gradually narrowing till they all settle on the spot near
which the sportsmen lie concealed, either behind scattered bushes, or
in a prepared bower of leafy branches. The evening has well closed in
before the tip-top of high-water; and the loud scream of the myriads
of birds deadens the detonation of the guns as they send their iron
shower among them, enabling us to load and reload without completely
scaring the birds. We once obtained ninety-five of the largest kind,
and hundreds of smaller ones, to feast the crowd who were assembled
near preparatory to a great tuba-fishing.
Balambañgan is admirably situated to command the China seas; however,
if its position be superior to Labuan, the latter has coal to
counterbalance that advantage. While strolling along the beach we came
upon the tracks of cattle, deer, and pigs, and another party from the
ship had the good fortune to secure a large supply of excellent fish
with the seine. This island, as well as the neighbouring coast of the
mainland, appears to swarm with game; I landed on the latter, and
found an extensive open plain, diversified with a few low eminences,
backed by some cleared hills, and there the tracks of wild cattle,
deer, and pigs were innumerable. The rhinoceros is also reported to be
occasionally seen, but we came across no traces of it.
Continuing our voyage, we passed the island of Banguey, in the northern
part of which there are fine peaked hills, with inhabitants, and
plenty of good water, therefore far preferable to Balambañgan for a
settlement; as if the harbours be not good, there is sufficient shelter
against both monsoons.
The next island is Mali Wali, and here we anchored to examine it. We
tried at many places, but found the little creeks shallow and lined
with mangrove swamps; but by landing on the south side, at the east
end of the stone beach, there is but a few minutes’ walk in dry forest
between the shore and the cleared land. The appearance of the island is
remarkable; for miles the hills apparently are clothed with grass, with
only a narrow belt of jungle skirting the shingly beach; the reality,
however, disappointed us, as we found that this verdant-looking land
was but a heap of soft sandstone, with long coarse grass growing up
between the crevices. However, there is a good supply of clear water
from tiny streams and springs, and the tracks of deer were observed
in many places, while on all sides a species of wild jasmine grew in
luxuriance, bearing a very sweet-scented flower.
This island did not tempt us to stay long, so we steered for Cagayan
Sulu, which is a gem in the ocean; it has three peaks, wooded, but
varied by grassy glades, groves of cocoa-nuts and fruit-trees, partly
concealing and partly revealing scattered houses and villages. It is,
indeed, a picturesque island from every view. Our first intercourse
appeared likely to be unfriendly. Steering round to the south-west
side, we landed at a place where we saw some houses close to the
beach, and as we pulled ashore, we could see the inhabitants gathering
in armed groups; however, we were received with great civility, and
explained the object of our visit, which was to inquire what fresh
provisions could be procured there. We did not stay long, as they
promised to bring us down next day a good supply.
When we landed on the following morning, we found a very large party
assembled with several fine bullocks for sale; while the bargaining
was going on I wandered inland with a companion to have a look at
the country. Wherever we went we found plantations of cocoa-nuts and
plantains, and round the houses were small vegetable gardens, while
between the dwellings were occasionally extensive tracks of long coarse
grass, on which were herds of bullocks feeding.
At length we came to a spot which tempted us to rest. It was a rock
overhanging a tiny bay, thrown into deep shade by the tall graceful
palms which bent over it; while looking inland across the gently
sloping fields of long high grass interspersed with groves, we
could see parties of natives marching in Indian file, with their
bright spear-heads flashing in the sun, winding their way down to the
extemporized market. We sat under the shade of some areca palms; which,
though young, and not twenty feet in height, were yet covered with
fruit and freshly expanded blossoms, which shed a delicious perfume
through the whole grove.
Our bargaining prospered, as fine cattle were secured at thirty
shillings a piece, ducks for two wine bottles, fine cocks and hens for
one; as well as a couple of pretty ponies, cocoa-nut oil and nuts,
plantains, limes, ginger, onions, and fruits. This island, though
formerly a dependency of Sulu, is now independent, and is governed by
some of those half-bred Arabs who corrupt and weigh heavily on these
countries. It is finely situated in the Sulu seas, and it is both
healthy and fertile. The inhabitants appear much the same as those I
had seen about Maludu Bay, and, with the exception of some strangers,
were civil. The latter were traders who had visited Samboañgan,
Manilla, and other Spanish ports, and were there corrupted, by
intercourse with the low Europeans and dissipated classes who usually
frequent such places; and at one time these men were so insolent that I
thought their conduct would become unbearable, till they were quieted
by my shooting down a cocoa-nut, as mentioned in my Limbang journal.
The most singular spot in this island is near the old crater-looking
harbour, mentioned by Sir Edward Belcher, which we entered over a
reef. It is almost circular, and is surrounded by lofty rocks clothed
with trees, bushes, and hanging creepers, presenting a magnificent
wall of evergreen. Rowing to the west side of the bay, and climbing to
the top of a lofty bank, we had a splendid view of a remarkable almost
circular, lake. The place where we stood was a gap between the lofty
cliffs that rose on either hand, and appeared to have been formed by
the inner waters bursting their boundary, and overthrowing the upper
defences of this natural dam. The wooded cliff’s continue all round,
forming a perfect barrier, now rising to a great height, then sinking
to some fifty or sixty feet. The waters, elevated more than forty feet
above the sea, lay in undisturbed repose, and presented for upwards of
half a mile a clear mirror, reflecting back the rays of the sun and the
deep shadow of the tall trees.
I mounted with some difficulty the top of the left-hand cliff, and
had an extensive view through the tangled bushes. On one side were
the waters of the crater, on the other the serene lake with the sea
appearing beyond. We heard from the natives that alligators swarm in
this secluded water, so that fish must be plentiful also, as few pigs
could descend here. In the interior they say there is another more
extensive lake of the same formation; this one was found to be eight
fathoms deep at the edges, and forty in the centre.
Started from Cagayan Sulu, and after encountering rougher weather than
we expected to find in this usually calm sea, lay to, as we thought we
were not far from the island we were intending to visit.
At daylight the two peaks of Sulu were visible; and as we approached,
the summits of the other hills appeared, while all the rest of the
island lay enveloped in mist; but the sun soon dispelled this, and
showed us the west coast of the lovely island of Sulu. The slopes of
the hills presented alternate patches of cleared grassy land, with
clumps of trees scattered over its face, reminding one of a noble
English park; while a long dense line of cocoa-nut palms skirted the
beach, among which were seen many houses and groups of inhabitants,
who were no doubt watching our approach with much anxiety, as they had
already suffered from the attacks of the Dutch and Spaniards; but the
sight of the English flag no doubt restored their confidence.
Anchored off Sugh, the capital of Sulu, which is situated at the bottom
of a bay, and appears small; but among the existing dwellings we could
distinguish blackened piles, the remains of portions of the city burnt
by the Dutch. On the right of the town is a high hill, curiously peaked
and well wooded. Farther off to the left, and at the back, are many
high mountains, some peaked, others rounded; but, as a whole, forming
a beautiful view. A white flag, with a castle represented on it, waved
over the fort, and a pilot jack marked the residence of Mr. Wyndham, an
Englishman, settled here for the purposes of trade.
Very few natives came off, until at length a messenger arrived from the
sultan to know who we were; we returned a suitable and, no doubt, a
satisfactory reply, as the Sulus were in a state of great excitement,
having suffered considerably from the recent shots of the Dutch ships.
Having communicated with Mr. Wyndham, we went to see the watering-place
about a mile to the west of the town, situated near the great tree to
which I have alluded in my second account of Kina Balu, where we found
the water bursting out of the sand, clear as crystal, and pleasant to
the taste.
The tree is very fine, being at least thirteen feet in diameter, with
a very sinewy stem. Mr. Wyndham walked with us a little way into
the country, and showed us some of the houses, having much the same
appearance as those of the Malays. These people are better-looking
than most other inhabitants of the archipelago; but appeared to be
suspicious, watching us at every point; in fact, we afterwards heard
the fugitives from Balignini were scattered among them, and they had
had no time to forget what they had suffered from the well-deserved
attacks of the Spaniards. We then pulled to Mr. Wyndham’s house, a
mere rough building, raised near the site of his former one, burnt by
the Dutch--why or wherefore is inconceivable. The whole night after
our arrival the country was in an uproar, reports spreading of the
advent of innumerable ships, which made the inhabitants hurry their
women, children, and goods up to the mountain. In the evening we took a
friendly letter to the sultan.
_28th._--Went with the watering-party, but were unable to
penetrate far, on account of heavy rain and the incivility of the
natives, who waved us back. No answer, as yet, from the sultan.
_30th._--Landed at the watering-place, where the mountaineers
were assembled at a sort of market, bartering, buying, and selling.
We walked about a little, and then returned to the beach, where we
were surrounded by some scores of men, women, and children from the
mountains and neighbourhood; the former are said to be of a different
race, but we saw little signs of it. The women, on the whole, are
better-looking than the Malays, and some of the little girls were quite
pretty; they are civil enough, but anxious to know our business.
In the afternoon we went to an audience with the sultan. Having landed
at Mr. Wyndham’s, who led us by a long shaky platform to the shore,
where we found numbers of armed natives assembled, an officer from the
sultan led the way along a broad rough road with a high stockade on the
left, and houses on the right. We passed in, through ever-increasing
crowds, to a market-place, where the women were selling fowls, fish,
and vegetables, till we came to a creek, over which a rude bridge took
us to the palace. Before crossing, we observed a large brass 24-pounder
showing through an embrasure. The stockade continued on the left, until
we passed a large gate, where on a green were assembled some hundreds
of men, armed with muskets, spears, heavy Lanun swords, and krises, and
defended by shields, and some brass armour, and old Spanish-looking
helmets.
The audience hall was on the right, and the house of prayer on the
left. The crowd opening, we mounted some steps, and crossing a
verandah thronged with armed men, found ourselves in the presence of
the sultan. The audience hall is large, but perfectly bare of ornament,
as all their valuable silks and hangings were packed up, and mostly
sent to the hills, on account of an absurd report spread by the mate of
the Spanish brig we found anchored near, which, when we came in sight,
began to get under weigh, and stand out to sea.
On being questioned by the Chinese passengers, he said that we had
given him notice to get out of the way, as we were about to bombard the
town. The rumour having spread, the natives packed up their valuables,
and spent the night in carrying their goods off to the hills, and in
removing their women and children. This caused the suspicious behaviour
of the people, and what tends to keep up their apprehensions a little
is that the Spanish brig has not yet returned to her proper anchorage.
But to return to the hall. In the centre stood a round table; on the
opposite side sat the sultan surrounded by his datus, and around were
a number of empty chairs, on which we took our seats. After shaking
hands, a few questions were asked, as, “What was the news? Was France
quiet?” The sultan was very like the picture in Sir Edward Belcher’s
book, and was dressed in light-flowered silk, with a very broad gold
belt round his waist, a handsome kris, and gold bracelets, sparkling
with jewels. Some of the datus were splendidly dressed in silks, gold
brocades, handsome turbans and head-dresses, like golden tiaras; the
young men were, as usual, the most gaudily decorated, while the old
were in plain white jackets, and crowds of the better class sat behind
and around us.
Observing that Sir James Brooke, who had lately suffered much from
fever, looked hot and tired, the sultan politely broke up the audience,
and we returned by the same path we came, and after sitting a short
time with Mr. Wyndham, went on board to dine with Captain Keppel, where
our Sulu acquaintance amused us with stories about the natives.
Went on shore to Mr. Wyndham’s to meet datu Daniel; very little
conversation passed. He appears to be a quiet, good-natured man; his
brothers are very fine fellows, and very fair; with them we went to see
the race-course. Passing through a portion of the town, we came to an
open grassy field, where a few men were trying their horses by trotting
them over the sward. None of the chiefs being present, there were no
trials of speed.
_2nd._--On shore early with our guide, but the people not
appearing to like our penetrating into the country, we returned to Mr.
Wyndham’s house, and as we passed the stockades, the Sulus laughingly
pointed to some indentations in the wood where the shot from the Dutch
ships had struck, but had done little damage.
_3rd._--Weighed anchor and stood along the coast for Tulyan Bay;
but wind and tide being against us, we let go our anchor; sailing
again at three, we found ourselves towards seven in Tulyan Bay, much
to the discomfort of the villagers, whose shouts and screams could
be distinctly heard on board. At last a couple of men came off and
returned on shore after a few reassuring words from Mr. Wyndham, which
appeared sufficient to pacify the inhabitants, as the noises ceased.
Tulyan Bay is rather deep, and appears to be well protected, and takes
its name from a pretty-looking island in the offing, which was ceded to
the English in Dalrymple’s time--in fact, the inhabitants thought we
were come to take possession.
_4th._--I must now endeavour to give the little information I
collected concerning Sulu. The government is carried on by a sultan,
with his council of datus; at the present time the principal power is
held by datu Molok, an elder but illegitimate brother of the sultan--a
shrewd-looking man with quick, inquiring eyes. The sultan is said to be
well-intentioned; but, being weak in character, is totally unable to
subdue the turbulent aristocracy by whom he is surrounded. In despair
he is reported to give way to his fondness for opium-smoking.
The laws are but little respected, and ancient customs are fast falling
into disuse, particularly one resembling a voluntary poor-rate. Every
Sulu trader used to present five per cent. of his yearly profits to a
fund, which was divided among the poor of the island. The mountaineers
acknowledge the supremacy of the sultan, but refuse to pay tribute,
and a government which cannot enforce that is not likely to be able to
suppress feuds, or effectually to put down disturbances. Mr. Wyndham
pointed out a man who was notorious as a murderer, and one instance he
had himself witnessed of his bloodthirstiness.
Again, two mountaineers, bargaining for a slice of fish, quarrelled;
they mutually seized each other’s weapons; one held the handle of his
opponent’s kris, the other his spear shaft; they struggled, a fight
ensued, the crowd collected, some took one side, some the other, and
in a few minutes seven men lay gasping on the ground. It is not to
be expected that the dependencies of the island will obey, when all
is in such confusion. The sultan’s power is very limited, though the
datus still send parties to raise contributions from the neighbouring
towns, villages, and islands. In all decaying states we find religion
neglected, and here, I imagine, it is held but in slight respect; their
houses of prayer being like a tumble-down barn, and the inhabitants
indulging in the use of wine, and occasionally pork.
Mr. Wyndham told us an amusing story of an old datu, who, going
on business to a Chinese trader, began to find a delicious odour
insinuatingly creeping over his senses.
“Ah,” said he, “what is this? some cooking, what is it?”
“Pork.”
“Pork?” said he; “ah!”
“Would you like to taste some?”
“Why,” he answered in a low voice, but cautiously surveying the room to
see if he were watched, “yes, bring me a little.”
On tasting it, and finding it very good, he began to eat some more.
Mr. Wyndham living next door, and hearing the old fellow’s noise, had
removed some of the partition, and was watching him. He now coughed.
“Oh, I am ruined,” cried the datu; “who lives in the next house?”
“Signor Wyndham.”
“Then he has me in his power.”
Our informant then went in, and, laughing, shook the Mahomedan chief by
the hand, and congratulated him on his freedom from prejudice. He ever
after had much influence with the old man, who feared being exposed.
The inland inhabitants call themselves Islamites, but are very lax and
ignorant.
The Sulu language is soft; it contains, I believe, many Malay words and
expressions, but it is essentially different; though the upper classes
understand Malay, and also many of the lower, there being here numerous
slaves from Borneo. The population, they say, is 200,000; it is
probably 100,000; not less, from the numerous towns and villages along
the coast, and the number of houses detached in twos and threes. On an
extraordinary occasion, they say they could bring some 15,000 or 20,000
men into the field; but, in general, 5,000 would be as many as they
could assemble. In fact, when the day of trouble came, they had not,
perhaps, 2,000 to defend the town; and this may be readily accounted
for, as a large proportion of the population is in servitude, which is,
however, generally an easy state of existence.
The slaves are collected from all parts of the archipelago, from
Acheen Head to New Guinea, and from the south of Siam to the most
northern parts of the Philippines: it is a regular slave market. The
Sulus themselves are a better-looking people than any I have yet seen;
they are daring and independent, and the mountaineers, particularly,
are a wild but polite people. Their young women and little girls are
dark-eyed and good-featured, with easy figures; free, though not
obtrusive, in their ways.
Bold and daring as the datus appear, they have much politeness in
their manners, particularly datu Daniel and his brother; and on proper
occasions their carriage is dignified and commanding. The lower
orders are outwardly rough, violent, and fierce, yet have an inherent
politeness, which, when inclined to show confidence, they display to
much advantage. On state occasions the young men appear in splendid
dresses, while the elder content themselves with plain clothes. The
dress is the same as the rest of the archipelago--a jacket, trousers,
sarong, and occasionally a shirt or under-vest. They all wear krises,
and most of them also carry either muskets or spears.
The Balignini near the watering-places were the worst we met--insolent
and inclined to pilfer; indeed, there was nearly a quarrel about some
of the seamen’s clothes they tried to appropriate. To show their
dislike, they planted sharp fish-bones round the watering-place, in
the hope that our men, landing in the dark, might cut their feet. The
Dutch burnt about two hundred houses, but did little injury to the
stockades, which are, however, sadly out of repair. In proper order,
well mounted with guns, they could make a good defence, as the walls
facing the sea are about fifteen feet thick of mud and stone, encased
with teak stockades. The rampart around the sultan’s palace is in the
best repair, but not so thick as the others; and datu Daniel’s is by
no means contemptible. The men, too, would fight bravely, as they did
against the Dutch; but their guns, except the brass ones, are mostly
dismounted, and they have no carriages ready; the iron ones are said
to be those taken at Balambañgan, when they surprised and captured our
settlement.
The appearance of the country from the sea is very beautiful, many of
the hills rising to a peak some 2,000 feet above the level of the sea;
while others are lower and wooded, and form an agreeable contrast.
Several of these eminences are forest-covered to the summit, while many
present alternate patches of rice cultivation, pasture land, groves
of cocoa-nut, palms, gardens, and detached clumps of forest trees. It
is by far the most beautiful island I have seen. Sulu, in good hands,
might be made to produce every tropical production, and become the
centre of the commerce in these seas. Ships, by staying a little time,
may obtain bullocks, fowls, ducks, vegetables, fruits, cocoa-nuts, and
very fine water at a very good watering-place. The duties on goods are
high; nevertheless, Mr. Wyndham and the Spaniards carry on a profitable
commerce.
Tulyan is rather a small island, with hills to the north, but low
land on the south: the former with a few trees and some bananas, with
cocoa-nut palms at the foot; the latter a little woody. Dalrymple gives
some account of it. In his time the Spaniards had driven the natives
away, burnt their houses, and cut down their fruit-trees; but there is
now a large village along the beach, with many cocoa-nut groves. The
inhabitants are pearl fishers.
Next day anchored off two woody islets; the captain, as usual, shelling
and dredging. Islands are to be seen in the distance all around us.
_6th._--Anchored off Basilan. High hills and lowlands covered with
woods, showing but few clearings. We counted eighteen islands at one
time; among which were the late pirate haunts of Balignini and Tonquil.
Beat about, and anchored off Samboañgan after dark.
We remained seven days at Samboañgan, walking and exploring in every
direction, and enjoyed our stay there very much. Magindanau, as far as
we have seen it, is very hilly and woody, with the exception of the
neighbourhood of the Spanish settlement of Samboañgan, which has been
cleared for some miles; though, for an old colony, not so much as might
have been expected.
The town is situated on the west point of Lanun Bay, and from the
sea appears much smaller than it is in reality. It presents no very
striking features; the long, low, dark fort and whitewashed houses,
intermixed with a few groves of cocoa-nuts, with forest on either side,
and the hills, some cleared and some wooded, rising about seven miles
inland, suggest a rough idea of this pleasant little town. The plain
around is very well cultivated; as you walk along the roads--very much
like English country ones--you have a continual series of large rice
fields, cocoa-nut groves, now swelling into extensive plantations, then
a few round a detached cottage, and intermixed with these are great
quantities of bananas. Many small streams intersect the plain, adding
much to its fertility, and are spanned by covered bridges.
The fort is to the right of the town, and has rather low walls, mounted
with a good many guns; against a native force it must be impregnable,
but a little shelling would soon subdue it. It is garrisoned by about
two hundred and fifty native soldiers. Leaving its gate, you cross a
large green, beyond which lies the principal portion of the town, laid
out in a rectangular shape, with streets intersecting each other at
equal distances. The houses are in general mere native ones; others
a little superior; and perhaps a couple of dozen of a better class,
in which reside the Governor, Lieutenant-Governor, Commandant, and
other officers. Almost every other house has a shop, in which cigars,
spirits, chocolate, sugar, and various other articles are sold. The
most respectable class keep retail shops, as well as the little traders.
Beyond this portion of the town is a little green, with the church--a
long barn-like building. Seen within by the imperfect light of evening,
it appeared destitute of ornaments, except round the altar, and beyond
this are some more streets. The houses I entered had very little
furniture; a small table, some chairs, a bedstead, and a kind of
drawers, with a few shelves, complete the whole.
The people themselves are well worthy of notice. They are a mixture of
Spaniards and natives; a few of pure blood, in the Government offices;
the rest half-castes, mestiches, and natives. The men exhibit no
remarkable features, except the Governor, Colonel Cayelano de Feguaroa,
who was an agreeable man, and spoke French. We were much pleased with
his liberal ideas and gentlemanly manners, and the other officers
were equally polite and attentive. The generality of the native men
are kind and civil, but with fat, unmeaning faces. The women are much
better. The Lieutenant-Governor’s wife, the only pure Castilian in the
place, was a very pretty woman, with fine eyes and regular features.
The mestiches have in general good eyes and dark hair; but, with the
exception of a few, their faces are too broad.
There was a famous corner shop opposite the church, which contained
good specimens of the race:--Gabriella, likewise called Romantica, one
of the handsomest women in the town, with pleasing features, and her
sister, with the usual flat face. Every one visiting Samboañgan made
that shop their place of call, as the staid old mother and the girls
were very civil and hospitable.
In the country one could always obtain cocoa-nuts, and many of us were
invited in to eat fruit and drink chocolate and gin by the obliging
residents, whose pretty houses, embowered in fruit-trees, were an
ornament to the road side.
The officers of the _Meander_ gave a ball. The quarter-deck was
cleared of guns and surrounded with flags on all sides, and ornamented
with green boughs. All the Spanish officers came, and about fifty of
the townswomen, some young, others old. We danced quadrilles, waltzes,
and polkas: the first caused much confusion, the second was well
danced, while the third was quite new to most of them. The commandant
gave one in return, which was kept up with greater spirit. Many of the
girls were fairer and better-looking than those we saw on board, and a
few were in European costumes, with shoes and stockings, while the rest
had Malay petticoats, and little jackets with scarfs. Dancing the polka
with them was found to be very difficult, as, few having chemises on,
the hand constantly coming in contact with the skin, it was impossible
to obtain a hold; and their little slippers were flying in every
direction.
Their own band played waltzes very well by ear; but nothing else.
Indeed, it is almost the only dance they care for, as the girls find
it difficult to try any other, on account of their wearing slippers
without heels, some of which are very prettily ornamented with gold and
silver embroidery.
Supplies were scarce, though I saw a great many oxen and cows, some
goats, fowls, and ducks; but its being a penal settlement, trade is
obstructed and carefully watched to prevent the escape of convicts, and
none could come to the ship without a pass. The ponies are very good,
except the hacks; the water buffaloes are large, and employed to draw
a peculiar sledge along the smooth roads. The chief amusement of the
men on Sundays is cock-fighting: crowds assemble to witness this cruel
sport; and then they show some money, which at other times appears
so scarce that few shops could give change for a dollar. We observed
that the rice was trodden out by the buffaloes, on hard beaten ground.
Washing was dear, being eleven dollars a hundred.
_16th._--Started on our return voyage. Lay-to off a sand-bank not
marked in the chart. A grave was found there with four bamboos stuck
round, one at each corner, in the midst of thousands of birds, with
immense numbers of eggs, some of which were brought off, and proved
good eating. I will omit the ground we went over on our return, and
give an account of a second visit we paid this archipelago.
CHAPTER IX.
THE SULU ISLANDS.
SECOND VISIT.
Reach Sugh--Mr. Wyndham comes on board--His News--Commercial
Rivalry--The Stockades--Visit the Audience Hall--Appearance
of the Sultan--Visit Datu Daniel’s Stockaded
House--Guns--Datu Daniel--Appearance of the principal
Chamber--The Bed--Boxes--Property--General look of
Discomfort--Spittoons--Dismounted Iron Guns--Taken from the
English--Excitement in the Town--Hereditary Hatred of the
Sulus to the Spaniards--Their Treaty with Spain--Sandakan
Bay--Supplies--Variegated Wood--Salute--English popular--An
Exception--Death of a Sulu Lady from Grief--The Rumah Bechara--A
Ship taken--Interview with the Sultan--Hope--Character of
Datus--The Balignini--Capture an English Ship--Captives brought
to Sulu--Result of the Action of the Nemesis--The Lanuns--At
Magindanau and Cape Unsang--A narrow Escape--Mate to Lord
Cochrane--Capture of the _Maria Frederica_--Cold-blooded
Murder of the Captain--Jilolo Prahus--Their Rencontre
with Sir Edward Belcher--Pirates off the Arru Group--Sulu
Justice--Appearance of the People--Attack on the Spanish
Gunboats--Public Audience with the Sultan--Private Visit to
the House of his Bride--The Women--Opium-smoking--Invitation
to revisit Sulu--The Spanish Gunboats--Samboañgan--The Corner
Shop--Sunday’s Amusements--Appearance of the Neighbourhood--A
Breakfast in the Country--Long Walks--People comfortable--Story
of the Loss and Re-capture of the _Dolphin_--The
_Dolphin_ sails for Maludu Bay--Quarrels--Surprised--Death
of Mr. Burns and the Captain--Murder of a Woman--Injury to
Trade--Datu Badrudin’s Monopolies--The Tungku Pirates--Visit the
chief Town of Maludu--Sherif Husin’s Account of the Surprise
of the _Dolphin_--The Re-capture of the Vessel by Sherif
Yasin--Arrival at Benggaya--_Dolphin_ delivered up--Visit
the Village of Sherif Yasin--His Appearance--His Account of
the Re-capture--His Position--Smoking over Powder--Delivery
of the Cargo--Return to the Ship--Argus Pheasants--Meet with
Baju Boats--Pearl Fishers--Retaliation--Fishing for Pearls--Mr.
Edwardes’s Pearl--Story of the Datu, and his great good
Fortune--The Mermaid Pearl--Present State of Piracy on the
North-West Coast--Cruise of the Balignini in 1861--Ransom of
Inchi Ngah--Names of present Haunts of the Balignini--A Mangrove
Swamp--Present System of Balignini--Escape of a Native--The
Lanuns--A Dayak’s Experience--A Slave Mart--Spanish Attack
on Sugh--Severe Fight--Bravery of the Sulus--Capture of the
Town--The Sulu Government retire to the Hills, and refuse to
submit--A Teak Forest burnt--No Teak in Borneo--Elephants
extinct in Sulu.
Started from Labuan in the steamer _Nemesis_; and passing over
our old ground soon found ourselves in the Sulu seas. It is difficult
navigation, but we passed safely among the shoals, steering south of
Cagayan Sulu, and between the islands of Ubian and Peñgaturan, where
there is a deep channel. The latter is a long and low island, of great
extent, with a few small villages, palm groves, and near it we observed
many fishermen’s canoes. The sea is studded with shoals and little
islands, and I counted eleven at one time from the deck. It was misty
weather when the island first appeared; but as we approached Sugh the
weather cleared, and by the time we had anchored it was tolerably fine.
Since our last visit many houses have been built, and the town is
gradually assuming its ancient appearance.
A quarter of an hour after our arrival Mr. Wyndham, whom we had met
on our previous visit, came on board, and brought us the little news
he possessed, that Sulu was perfectly tranquil, and that the Dutch,
with two small vessels, were gradually extending their claims along
the east coasts of Borneo, that the Governor of Manilla had protested
against the Dutch interference in Sulu, and that the pirates of
Balignini were utterly rooted out of their old haunts on the islands
of Tonquil and Balignini. But it was a mistake to imagine that the
Spaniards had killed or taken prisoners the whole number, for very many
escaped and retired to Sulu. Mr. Wyndham was startled on hearing of the
expected arrival of an European enemy, and uttered many exclamations
as to the injustice and barbarity of attacking an inoffensive people,
and asked many questions as to the profit of making this aggression,
though he was scarcely surprised, as he had known they had long desired
the eastern coast of Borneo, and that they are endeavouring to obtain
a show of right for its seizure, as by them our ancient claim is no
longer remembered.
At four, we left the _Nemesis_ with Mr. Wyndham, to visit datu
Molok, the prime minister. We pulled in for the little creek in the
centre of the town, passing many new houses lately built by the
Chinese. Mr. Wyndham told us that he found them very troublesome
competitors; as, spreading themselves over all the neighbouring
islands, they offered apparently higher prices for produce than he
could possibly do; so he obtained from the sultan an order for their
recall to the capital. I say apparently higher prices, for by means of
false weights and the tricks usually practised by the Chinese, they
were enabled to outbid the honest European. Yet I fear that in this
there is much commercial jealousy, and that the injury done to the
general trade by the restriction is much greater than the profit to
the individual.
As we passed before the fort I could see numerous guns displaying
their adamantine lips through the embrasures; and I learned from
our companion that the Sulus possess about 150 brass guns, besides
innumerable iron ones. In the market-place, crowds of armed men were
assembled, looking eagerly and anxiously at us. We landed at the
little bridge, and learning that Molok was at the sultan’s palace, we
proceeded thither, escorted by about half a dozen men armed with long
spears, and followed by a crowd of men, women, and children. We soon
arrived at the fort, and then entering the old audience hall, found it
in much the same condition as before, quite as bare of ornament, with
the old round table and white cloth, and the chairs arranged around.
Datu Molok was present, with a few others; and we had nearly arranged
about the salute when the sultan entered, and it was settled that it
should be given the next day.
The news of the Dutch having taken Bali made them all look at each
other with marks of great disquietude, and when they heard of the
amount of the Dutch force which was expected to visit Sulu, their
uneasiness was clearly to be seen under their assumed quietude. The
sultan appeared in better health, but the heaviness of the lower part
of his face gives him a stupid look, and his long jacket of white silk
did not suit his pale appearance. Having taken our leave, we retired,
and returned to the ship; but Sir James Brooke, being anxious to see
some of the datus that evening, sent us on shore again to arrange
a meeting with Mr. Wyndham: but Molok, being then with the sultan,
smoking opium, we went to datu Daniel’s.
For a couple of hundred yards from the shore the water was so shallow,
that we were compelled to be dragged along over the sand in Mr.
Wyndham’s flat-bottomed boat. Walking a few hundred yards inland to the
left of the town, on the road to the race-course, we came to the house.
It is surrounded by a stockade some thirty feet high; there were two
long iron eighteen-pounder guns to defend the approaches, but only one
was mounted, though there were two brass ones ready for service in his
verandah. A wretched-looking pony, and a man with a chain round his
neck pounding rice, were the most remarkable features of the place.
Having mounted some high steps, we entered the house, where we found
datu Daniel lying down on his bed, suffering from an attack of
intermittent fever. He sat up, however, and talked a little, expressed
his regret that he was unable to come on board and see the Rajah, but
sent one of his people to Molok to arrange a meeting. The room we
entered was large, some fifty feet long by twenty broad, with a raised
recess on one side fifteen feet square. A native bed, thirty feet long
and twelve broad, occupied the greater portion of the room; it was
divided in two by a curtain, and resembled more a large raised room
than a bed. At the end were long shelves filled with packets of goods,
small boxes, and innumerable articles which I could not distinguish,
while around were hung the datu’s handsome jackets, sarongs, trousers,
krises, and other finery for state occasions. Four gun-cases were piled
at the side of the bed, while in the recess above mentioned, and about
the room, were forty or fifty boxes, containing his valuable property;
there was a ladder, also, which led to the loft.
Chairs were provided for us; but, with the exception of the bed covered
with beautiful mats and the handsomely-ornamented pillows, the whole
place had an air of discomfort, a sort of musty look. The bed itself is
no doubt the datu’s chief residence; we could only just see the head of
the farther half, as a blue curtain was drawn across, concealing its
beauties and its treasures. Around the room were arranged several dozen
brass spittoons, as if the chief were accustomed to give large parties.
Some of the women and young girls came to the doors to look at us; a
few were tolerably good-looking, with their dark eyes and black hair,
but the generality were like the Malays.
Returning, we were, as usual, very much stared at, but little followed.
We walked behind some of the stockades, but saw that nothing had
been done either to repair them, or to mount the guns, which lay
grass-covered in every direction. As they were those captured from
the English when Balambañgan was taken, it is probable they were too
honeycombed to be of any use. We remained at Mr. Wyndham’s house
waiting for Molok’s answer, which came at length, mentioning nine as
the hour.
The news of the intended visit of their last European enemy must have
spread very rapidly; boats were plying to and fro from the palace and
outside houses, bringing all the valuables on shore. As Molok sent a
message that he could not come, we had a long talk with Mr. Wyndham,
who frankly confessed he was a Spaniard in heart, as he thought they
were more likely to settle the affairs of these countries than the
English, but added, for some reason he could not fathom, there was an
unconquerable prejudice among the Sulus against the Spaniards. It is
no doubt an hereditary feeling, for these islanders and the Castilians
have been constantly at war for the last three hundred years; the
latter endeavouring to subject them, and the former supporting their
independence with great determination.
By the treaty of September 23rd, 1836, the Spaniards offered their
protection and the assistance of their army and navy to support the
sultan and repel any enemies who might attack him, and the sultan of
Sulu accepted their friendship and protection. This article the Sulus
considered the Spaniards had failed to carry into effect, as the
spirit and letter of the treaty bound Spain and Sulu to consider their
respective enemies as perpetual foes, except that the Sulus were not
required to support Spain in an European war.
Mr. Wyndham said that Sandakan Bay is exceedingly unhealthy, and that
the whole eastern coast bears the same character during the south-west
monsoon; but nearly every tropical place is insalubrious until cleared
and drained. Sandakan is reported to be one of the noblest harbours
in the world, perfectly sheltered, with eight fathoms of water.
Innumerable boats came around the steamer with vegetables, cocoa-nuts,
eggs, fowls, fruit, krises, Sulu knives, Dutch 32-pounder shot, cattle,
and excellent fish, particularly the red mullet; eggs on the whole
very good; mangoes and plantains; but krises of indifferent quality;
the Sulu knives, of very peculiar shape, are mostly made in China for
this market; a tolerable one, with a sheath of clouded wood, and a
handle with an Arabic inscription, I tried to buy, but they asked too
much for it. The upper portion of the sheath was of the Kayu Kamuning,
a beautiful wood from the island of Magindanau, which, if it could be
obtained of large size, would be invaluable for furniture; but the
natives said it was only the knots of the trees which were beautifully
marked.
At one, we saluted the sultan with twenty-one guns. The echo seemed
to commence at the first hill, and gradually, now with a deeper, then
with a lighter sound, rolled round over the whole circle of hills and
valleys. The sultan returned the salute from his various stockades.
The English appear very popular in Sulu, their only enemy being datu
Boyak, the rajah Mudu, who was away. He felt aggrieved with the English
on account of Sir Thomas Cochrane’s attack on Maludu Bay. His sister
had married sherif Usman, its chief, who, during the fight, was shot
in the stomach with grape, as he, being one of those whom they deem
invulnerable, exposed himself to every fire, and fought to the last.
His wife was inconsolable for his loss, refused to return to Sulu,
retired into the country, fell ill, and died. Her brother keeps this
as a sort of canker in his bosom. The way these men prepare themselves
to be invulnerable is different from that practised in Sarawak: here
they rub their whole bodies with some preparation of mercury.
I asked Mr. Wyndham about the _Rumah Bechara_, or House of
Discussion, mentioned by the American navigator Wilkes, but he said it
was a mistake: there was no other council than the general one of the
datus.
A Madras sailor, a British subject, coming on board, told us the
following story:--That seven years ago he left Batavia in the
_Andrew_,[10] captain and mate European, the crew twenty-five
Lascars. The Lanuns attacked and took the vessel, killed the Europeans,
cleared the valuables out, skuttled the ship, and carrying the crew
off, sold them for slaves.
At three, we started in the gig and cutter to have an interview with
the sultan. In comparison with the former visit, but few people were
collected. I found that the musjid is situated within the first
stockade, and the sultan’s hall in the second. Only thirty people were
present; but as soon as we had entered, the place was crammed with new
arrivals; the only difference we observed was that, except the sultan,
none had on their state robes. They no longer thought it necessary to
meet in form, but were more friendly and familiar. We conversed with
the sultan, Molok, and Daniel, for some time on general subjects, and
they again eagerly asked questions about Europe, particularly about
France, whether affairs there were settled.
After arranging some business matters, we left and returned to the
ship. We have always a crowd of canoes around the steamer with articles
for sale; among others, rope made here, which appears of excellent
quality, and cheap, some twenty coils being offered for a dollar.
The hemp grows like the plantain, and is of about the same size and
appearance, and is said to be of the same species.
Marriages are here conducted in the usual Muslim fashion, and the wives
have great influence over the proceedings of their husband. In the
evening, our native secretary came on board, and after explaining what
had occurred after we had left, told me he considered datu Molok to
be clever; datu Daniel, good-natured, though not brilliant; and that
the sultan had much ability, but was generally stupefied with opium;
and from what I have seen and heard, I think his judgment in all these
cases correct.
About eight p.m., Mr. Wyndham came, and we had a long discussion. He
is well acquainted with these seas, and could give much information on
eastern politics. He told us that before the attack of the Spaniards on
the Balignini, the pirates could muster above a hundred and fifty boats
of a large size, containing from thirty to fifty men each; that, taking
the average at forty, they numbered altogether about 6,000 men. But
besides their large war-boats, they had innumerable smaller ones, used
for the capture of trading and fishing-boats. He had seen many of the
pirate prahus of considerable size enter Sugh harbour.
As an instance of the damage they did to commerce, he mentioned the
following. Six years previously, the _Sarah and Elizabeth_, brig,
anchored off Timor; and requiring wood, the captain sent three boats
on shore to cut it, giving the men only their axes, and refusing
fire-arms. They had not been there long, when three Balignini prahus
passing that way, saw the ship’s boats drawn up on the beach, and
immediately landed their crews to capture the men, in order to put
them to ransom, as they are not like the Lanuns, who nearly always put
their European prisoners to death. They first met the chief mate, who
defended himself with his axe, until knocked down with a billet and
bound. The other mate and a boy were also taken, but the men escaped
into the jungle.
Whilst this was going on, it was observed that two boats were let
down from the ship, which pulled immediately out to sea. The pirates,
concluding that there could not be many men on board, determined to
take her. On arriving alongside, they found only a dog on board: the
timid captain having run away in so great a hurry as to leave both it
and his watch behind. The latter was in datu Daniel’s possession at the
period of our visit. The Balignini plundered and then burnt the vessel.
One of the mates escaped; the other whites were brought to Sulu,
ransomed, and sent home by Mr. Wyndham. This account was given both by
the mate and the chief of the pirates.
Another story showed that the Sulu Government was in regular
communication with the pirates; for when the miserable remains of the
squadron, attacked by the _Nemesis_ off the Brunei river in 1847,
returned to Balignini, the families who had lost their husbands in the
action, came in their grief to request leave of the sultan to raise men
or collect a force to revenge the death of their relations. The sultan,
of course, refused their request, and laughed at the absurdity of the
idea.
We heard at Samboañgan that the Spaniards had taken the whole of the
pirates, but it was a very great mistake, for hundreds escaped, and
were now distributed over the Sulu Archipelago, particularly at Tawee
Tawee and the little islands which are situated in the neighbourhood,
as Binadan, the usual residence of Pañglima Taupan.
The most powerful pirates of the present time are the Lanuns of
Magindanau, and those who in Borneo reside on the streams flowing to
the southern shore of Cape Unsang. It is at these latter stations that
the Lanuns generally rendezvous. Mr. Wyndham describes these pirates
as very fine men, brave, fierce, never giving quarter to Europeans,
and cruising in vessels ninety feet long, propelled by from 100 to
120 oars. He had himself seen many of them at Sugh. The above are the
largest class, most are much smaller. The Lanuns of Magindanau, it is
well known, live on an extensive lake, with a very narrow entrance; and
are still very powerful, no sufficient force having ever attacked them.
They continue their piratical pursuits to this day, though they appear
to be gradually withdrawing from the north-west and north coasts of
Borneo.
One of these marauders came to Mr. Wyndham, and, in selling his brass
gun to him, said that since the English have been settled at Labuan,
there are so many steamers about, it was no use pirating; so he sold
his brass gun and returned home.
Mr. Wyndham told us he had once a narrow escape from them. He was
sailing as mate to a Spanish brig near Wette, with the captain and most
of the crew unwell. There was a light breeze blowing, when he sent
a man to the mast-head to look out. Presently he shouted--“A prahu
in sight--two, three, four; I cannot count them, sir.” Mr. Wyndham
immediately went aloft with his spy-glass, and reckoned at least
thirty-eight large prahus. Guessing who they were, he thought the bold
course the best; and, getting the captain on deck, they dressed in some
old uniform and walked up and down the poop; then bore down upon the
pirate prahus, and, coming between the two largest, each of the same
size as the brig, they observed their guns carefully covered up with
mats, and but few men on deck, though they could see others peeping out
from under the native awning. Mr. Wyndham immediately began questioning
them; they said they were traders. He answered, “We have heard of some
pirates down here, and are come to look for them.” They assured him
they had seen none, and requested permission to keep him company, for
protection, to Makasar, to which port they said they were bound. He
answered, they might if they could keep up with him. A breeze sprang
up, and the brig went ahead, and towards evening were clear of them
all. A calm came on during the night, but in the morning the traders
were no longer near, they could be seen in the distance pulling away as
hard as they could. The _ruse_ had succeeded, and they all felt
more comfortable, for they could not have defended their vessel ten
minutes.
Mr. Wyndham had formerly served as a mate under Lord Cochrane, when
he commanded a frigate in South America, and was with him when he
performed some of his most brilliant actions, and having his old
uniform perhaps saved his life. Mr. Wyndham also told us that, a few
years ago, a vessel was brought into Sugh for sale by the Lanuns, which
had been taken in the following manner:--The _Maria Frederica_,
commanded by a man of the name of Andrew, was detained in a calm, when
two Lanun boats approached and begged a few supplies. One of the men,
who hated the captain, asked them why they did not come on board. The
captain was unwell, and there was no one to stop them. Immediately
forty of them sprang on deck, flourishing their swords, and drove the
crew below, seized the captain, and brought the vessel to Tungku. They
there buried the white men up to their waists in sand, and cut them to
pieces with their swords. This it is said they did at the instigation
of the traitor. Mr. Wyndham offered 150 dollars for him, but they would
not part with him, fearing that the Englishman meant to put him to
death. The vessel, I heard, was bought by a Spanish captain.[11]
The Jilolo men are said to co-operate with the Lanuns in their
excursions, and were the pirates who attacked Sir Edward Belcher. One
of the men present on that occasion, who was living at Sugh during our
visit, gave the following account: The sultan of Jilolo sent a fleet of
boats to take prisoner a tributary rajah of New Guinea, whom they got
on board and killed. In returning, they saw the Samarang boats, which
the chief man mistook for native prahus, though our informant insisted
they were Dutch boats, upon which the order was given to fire, and they
were astonished by the severe thrashing they got from our blue-jackets,
under the command of Sir Edward Belcher.
No doubt these men are always ready to pirate when they have a chance.
Mr. Wyndham also told me that when he was at the Aru group, it was
said that the people of New Guinea were also piratical. His companions
pointed to a long light boat, that was on the look-out to catch
fishermen: this account agreed with what we had formerly heard. These
are a scourge to the natives, but not dangerous to European vessels,
yet in the end equally mischievous to trade.
Accidentally we hear anecdotes that show more of the character of the
government and people than even minute investigations. The following
illustrates the degree of protection afforded by the chiefs even to
their guilty followers, unless bribed beyond the value of the man.
There was a slave here who was in the constant habit of robbing the
Chinese, and had, in his endeavours to escape capture, killed several
of them. The Chinese petitioned that he should be put to death, but
could not obtain this favour until they had compensated the chief by
giving him double the value of the slave; he then had him tied up and
cut to pieces.
The slaves taken among the Philippines, who know how to read and write
and possess education, fetch a much higher price than any others, as
they are useful in keeping their master’s accounts; and the women, it
is said, by conversing with them, have gained far greater knowledge
than their husbands, by means of which and their affection nearly rule
them. Forrest says that in his time the women were very free in their
manners, and given to intrigue, but in Eastern Asia it is a custom not
confined to Sulu; but my impression from all I heard was that they were
more chaste than the Borneans. The most manly-looking persons here are
those whom they call the mountaineers, who appear far healthier and
more vigorous than the town’s-people; but those we saw may have been
merely the cultivators. The inland people, I heard, are more of the
Ida’an race. They wear padded jackets, and are very brave.
In 1845, a Spanish frigate and fourteen gunboats were here at the
watering-place, when a Bisayan slave went alongside of one of the
boats to sell fruit: the moment the officer found he was a native
of the Philippines, he ordered him to be seized and put on board,
though he strongly protested against it. His master, who had a great
affection for him, swore he would have his revenge and kill a Spaniard.
Collecting about two hundred hill people, he rushed unexpectedly on the
gunboats, all his followers advancing up to the middle in water, and
hurling their spears: having killed several men, he was satisfied, and
retired. The people are not really well armed; their spears, krises,
and shields would be of little use against an European enemy.
We again visited the sultan, and found him in his hall, surrounded by
perhaps about sixty or seventy people. We seated ourselves around the
table, and free and easy conversation commenced. Presently chocolate
was presented to us in tumblers, on plates, surrounded by native
cakes; afterwards trays of sweetmeats--among others, some made by the
sultana expressly for the occasion; then coffee, weak, and flavoured
with cloves. For some time they conversed on various subjects, but
presently datu Molok said that all business should be settled first,
before any other conversation was proceeded with. When that was over,
the sultan told us that, some short time back, the eastern coast of
Borneo paid tribute to him, but that lately they had ceased, and asked
the assistance of the English to endeavour to obtain the renewal of the
ancient custom.
At ten we retired. The curtain hung at the end of the hall this
evening was half raised, and disclosed the huge bed, on which were
sitting many of the principal women of the harim.
Went on shore at the watering place; had a short walk and a delicious
bathe. I roughly measured the circumference of the big tree, and as I
have elsewhere stated, it was above forty feet in circumference. In
the evening we landed in order to have a farewell interview with the
sultan. It was quite a private meeting; a few people only followed us
who saw us land; and when we arrived at the sultan’s palace we found
that he was in a small house, the residence of his young wife. While
waiting, I looked about the place; all showed symptoms of decay. Near
us was the skeleton of an old gaol fallen to pieces, and farther the
timbers of the residence where the late sultan had died; for it is
a custom of theirs never to dwell in a house where a great man has
expired. Presently a couple of the datus joined us in our walk, and
proceeding over a small stream along a roughly raised boarded path we
reached the little dwelling of his bride.
We found the sultan resting on a bed filling nearly half the room.
Taking off our shoes, we mounted, and reclined on numerous pillows
brought by the attendants. After a few minutes’ conversation, a sort
of window at the head of the raised platform was opened to allow the
sultan’s ladies to obtain a sight of the English visitors. Their room
was too dark for us to see more within it than a few dim shadows, and
their candles give so imperfect a light, that I could not clearly
distinguish the features even of those women who came to the door;
they appeared to have fat, laughing faces. Some more of the datus
arriving, conversation became very animated, and their inquiries were
very numerous with regard to European affairs and European discoveries.
This was a little interrupted by the arrival of chocolate and cakes,
with some spirit like spiced aniseed, and by the sultan’s frequent puff
of the opium pipe with a barrel as thick as a large bamboo and a brass
bowl. About five inches from the end this bowl had a small centre hole,
in which, with infinite trouble, the sultan introduced the drug. They
all appeared remarkably friendly, and said if we would only come and
spend a little time there after the rice crop was in, they would take
us up to the mountains to hunt deer on horseback; or if we liked a
change, we might go shooting, or do anything we pleased.
I should in truth have liked very much to spend a month in Sulu. We
stayed till about ten, and then shaking hands with all, left the house.
On the whole, I was greatly pleased with these people; they appeared
manly, and not too cunning. We returned to Mr. Wyndham’s house,
and remained a short time with him. He was a shrewd man, entirely
self-educated, and appeared anxious to assist us in every way. His
leaning, as I have observed, was towards the Spaniards, but the natives
had such a determined hatred both to the Dutch and Spaniards, that he
could not alter their disposition.
Left at daylight. Even a distant view confirms my impression of the
great beauty of the island. We stood on towards Basilan, where, in the
Bay of Maloza, seven Spanish gunboats were seen at anchor. From an
officer who came on board we learnt that the Governor of Samboañgan was
there. Sir James Brooke determined to meet him immediately, and left
with the officer, while we followed and found the Governor looking as
hearty as ever, rather tired from having been engaged in an expedition
up the country against the pirates. After firing a few guns, the enemy
had fled, leaving their houses and property to be destroyed.
The great fatigue was in making their way through the tangled, wet
jungle, where the mire was so deep that they were occasionally up to
their waists in it. The Spaniards are certainly an agreeable people
to meet, and the officers looked intelligent. The Manilla troops were
strong, fine men; the gunboats very effective for defence: they mount a
9-pounder or 12-pounder, and six, eight, or ten brass swivels, and are
well manned; they are, however, too slow for pursuit.
The Governor was very much startled by the news of the expected arrival
of the Dutch, of which he had not the slightest idea, thinking that
Bali would occupy them this summer. He determined immediately to return
and write to Manilla.
Passed Basilan, leaving the gunboats much astern, and reached
Samboañgan. It appeared, of course, much the same, except that a
hurricane had lately swept over the town, bringing down the church,
thirty houses, and casting on shore four vessels, one of which remained
there. From what we heard, several instances of piracy had lately
occurred, but the particulars we expected to learn from the Governor.
After dinner we landed, and took a walk. The open rice grounds, the
groves of palms, the herds of buffaloes, the cows, the ponies, the
regular roads, the stone bridges all showed that we were at a place
where Europeans had for some time governed. Everything was much the
same as when we left, even the hospitality, or rather conviviality, of
the corner shop.
The day we arrived the priests baptized some natives, among whom were
many children of the pirates and many of their little slaves, all
captured during the last great expedition.
Walked out on the western road, and found it quite animated with crowds
of people who were taking their Sunday’s amusement: dancing in booths
and houses, collecting in groups chatting and laughing, playing the
guitar and the flute; in fact, giving themselves up to enjoyment.
In the evening we went to the Governor’s, and he took us to the
Lieutenant-Governor’s. All spoke Spanish but himself, and he acted as
interpreter.
A day in the country. The Governor asked us to breakfast at the
government country-house. Some of us started at half-past six, and
walked sharply out. On either side of us were rice fields, in which
were grazing in the stubble a great many ponies, and bullocks, and
buffaloes. The whole country exhibits different features from any other
place I have seen in the East; it is much more European. I found, at
a little distance from the town, almost every person’s possession
regularly fenced in, and to each house a little enclosed garden, though
rather slovenly kept, still exhibiting signs of superior cultivation.
At the back of the government house are the grounds, which are kept
in order by the soldiers. They produce sufficient vegetables for
the consumption of 350 men: potatoes, yams, sweet potatoes, beans,
cabbages, onions, and garlic.
Passing the government house, we came to a stone bridge crossing a
beautiful, clear river, bubbling and rushing over a sandy, pebbly bed.
The banks are high, and the bridge is strong, to meet the immense rush
of water which comes down in the rainy season. We wandered about till
past nine--my companion sketching and I lazily taking a delicious bath
in pure cold water, that made me feel as fresh as ever; and with an
appetite sufficient to do justice to the very admirable and substantial
breakfast set before us, of fish, beef, a magnificent ham dressed in
a most inviting manner, good bread, curries, and a variety of little
dishes, with coffee, wine (Spanish and French), and very excellent
water. Nothing is more tranquillizing than a satisfactory breakfast.
There is a species of yam at Samboañgan, which we were told by one of
the officers occasionally weighs above a hundred and thirty pounds.
After breakfast I strolled about, forded the river, and looked into
every nook and corner, finding pretty cottages and gardens amid the
clumps of graceful bamboos.
In the afternoon we made a cut across the country to the western road,
and, following that, arrived at length at another river. The whole
of the landscape was very picturesque. We spent our last day at
Samboañgan in a long walk to the westward, for above three miles, until
we arrived at some extensive downs that border the sea, and strolled
for hours over them, admiring the beautiful swell of the land, and the
purling streams that flowed over their pebbly beds. The day before we
started the Governor and principal officers dined on board.
From what I have seen of the people of Samboañgan, I should say they
are contented and happy, well fed, and lightly taxed. They all look
plump, even the very old exhibited none of that ugliness so conspicuous
among the aged Malays. The children, particularly the girls, have
pleasant, pretty faces, with an intelligent, confiding expression;
the little ones, both girls and boys, were familiar and full of fun.
There are apparently a great many schools: all the boys we met in the
afternoon appeared to be returning with their satchels hanging at their
sides. One I examined possessed a miscellaneous collection of lives of
saints, crumpled paper, and fruit. The men have by no means a pleasant
expression, but are a well-made, able-bodied race. The Governor told us
he established one village in the mountains for the protection of the
wood-cutters, another on the coast for that of the fishermen.
Before leaving the subject of these lovely islands, I will relate the
story of the loss and recovery of the English schooner _Dolphin_,
as showing to what kind of hazards traders are exposed in these
peaceful-looking seas.
I was visiting the northern coasts in the _Pluto_ steamer in
November, 1851, and had just cast anchor in Maludu Bay, when I heard
the particulars of a frightful tragedy. Sherif Hasan came on board;
Hasan is the son of the Sherif Usman I have before mentioned. He came
down to the cabin with a sorrowful countenance, and when I inquired
the news, he answered, “very dreadful.” I soon learnt from him that
the English schooner _Dolphin_, from Labuan, had been cut off,
and Mr. Burns, the supercargo, and the English captain, three sailors,
and one woman killed. From all I could then gather, the particulars of
the affair were as follows:--About a month ago, Mr. Burns agreed with
Tuanku Hasan that he should pilot him round the east coast in order
that he might find Kina Batañgan, but a quarrel arose between Mr. Burns
and his captain, which came to blows. After this quarrel they agreed to
return to Labuan, and giving up the idea of trading to the eastward,
they set sail from the harbour, and anchored at a little distance from
Limau-Limauan--a point on the north-western side of the bay.
There Memadam, a Lanun from Tungku, pulled alongside in a trading
prahu, and saying he wished to barter some things he had, came on board
with a party of nine men apparently unarmed, and brought camphor and
other articles for sale. Whilst they were bargaining on deck, a man
named Ibrahim handed a folded mat to Mr. Burns, who put out his hands
to receive it; the man then suddenly drew a naked kris that had been
hidden in the mat, and with one blow cut Mr. Burns’s head off; Memadam
struck at the captain, but hit his jaw only; the Englishman made a
rush below, or, as others declare, out on the bowsprit, but was stabbed
through the back with a spear. The pirates then killed the woman and
three sailors, whom they came across, the rest who fled up the rigging
they spared on condition of their navigating the ship. The pirates then
set sail for the east coast, and arriving at Labuk Bay, the vessel
was seized by Sherif Yasin, who, as Tuanku Hasan asserts, killed two
of the pirates. The chief, Memadam, retired to the woods with two of
the captain’s sailors. The reason they gave for killing the woman was
that her presence on board caused disputes; one man seized her by the
left arm, and declared she was his property, as he had seen her first;
another denied his claim, and already they had drawn their swords on
each other, when Memadam came up behind, and stabbed her through the
back, saying she should belong to neither.
The Tuanku complained bitterly of the cutting up of the trade of the
coast by the pirates; as many as fifty of their boats were cruising off
the bay during the last season; they came from the Binadan islands,
near Tawee Tawee. The boats from Tungku also occasionally infest this
place, and many manned by the Sulus of Padang have been cruising here
lately. Sherif Hasan, the son, as I have observed, of Sherif Usman,
appeared deeply annoyed at the state of affairs at Maludu. He said
that although the government rightfully belonged to him, yet datu
Badrudin was continually intriguing, and he had left the town unable
to withstand his machinations. The Dusuns, or rather the Ida’an, were
very dilatory in paying the rightful tribute, being interfered with by
the datu.
It appeared true that this datu was a very bad man to hold the
government, as he was shutting up the productions of all these
districts, hoping to monopolize them himself, wishing to trade directly
with Java or Singapore on a large scale, or to induce European vessels
to visit the Bay. He deceived the ships that came to him, and no
cargoes were obtained, so that he clogged commerce, and made little
profit himself. The trade of this coast would be great if unfettered,
and Maludu Bay is certainly as productive as any district.
Sherif Hasan stated that he has heard of two English ships besides
the _Dolphin_ being captured by the pirates of Tungku, but those
instances were several years ago; the Europeans were murdered, the
rest kept for slaves. The Tungku pirates generally plunder more to the
eastward and southward, and make great havoc among the Bugis boats.
Started at daylight in the armed cutter for the town of Maludu. The
head of the bay for nearly four miles from the shore shallows from
about two fathoms to scarcely sufficient to float a boat.
After three hours’ pull we arrived, poling our way up the narrow creek
to the houses. The country is flat, but at the back the mountains
soon rise: there are a few cocoa-nut and other fruit trees scattered
about. We stopped at Tuanku Musahor’s house, as datu Badrudin’s was
some distance up the river. We climbed the steps to a shabby passage,
leading into the main room, where an enormous Malay bed, some twenty
feet square, as usual filled up a large portion of the space, on which
mats were spread, and having shaken hands with the assembled company,
our conversation commenced; there were present Sherifs Musahor,
Abdullah, Jenalabudin, a Tringganu man, who backed Usman in his defence
of his forts, and Sherif Husin, a brother of Sherif Moksain’s, of
Sarawak.
Our conversation turned naturally on Mr. Burns, as I had come to make
inquiries. Sherif Husin was present during the massacre, he had come
on board whilst Mr. Burns was talking to the Lanuns and Sulus. By his
invitation he stept aft, and while he was looking over the stern, and
speaking to some men in his boat, he heard a noise, and turning, saw
Mr. Burns fall before the kris of a Sulu, and the Lanun cutting at the
English captain. He did not see whether or not any of the sailors were
killed, but saved by his sacred character, the Lanuns did not meddle
with him, and he hurried away into his boat, and the schooner was taken
eastward. Sherif Musahor added, that he had received a letter about
fourteen days before from Sherif Yasin, stating the men had brought the
schooner to Benggaya, in Labuk Bay, and that he immediately seized it,
after killing two of the pirates.
I heard, however, from Sherif Hasan that Yasin had divided the cargo
among the Sulu rajahs of the river of Labuk and himself; and that at
the latest dates Yasin had not destroyed the vessel, but had taken it
up to the town, or rather village, of Benggaya. We talked a good deal
over the affair, but nothing new came out of it, except that Musahor
said he sent a message to Yasin to preserve the ship and cargo until
news arrived from Labuan.
Steaming along the coast amid the shoals somewhat delayed our
passage; but arriving off Benggaya we tried to find the river; in
this we failed, but the following morning two canoes pulled off from
shore, and on reaching us proved to contain some of the crew of the
_Dolphin_, and a messenger from Sherif Yasin. The men said the
vessel was safe up the river, and that the cargo was on board, and
at the village and untouched, and that they themselves had been fed
and well treated by the chief of Benggaya. Starting again, we found
the entrance very shallow; but as the tide rose we entered and pulled
up the stream. It might easily be passed, as the branch to the right
appeared the broader of the two. To reach the houses it is necessary
to keep the left-hand branches for about ten miles from the sea, and
then the first to the right, and you arrive at the village after about
twenty miles’ more pull.
The flood tide moved us lazily along by banks of the everlasting
mangrove and nipa, occasionally diversified by a little high land with
heavy jungle trees. As we advanced, we met a boat with Sherif Idrus,
Yasin’s father-in-law, coming to meet us. I told him we would ascend to
the village, and he preceded us. About sunset we reached the schooner,
anchored in a narrow part of the river; a dozen of the Tuanku’s men
were on guard, and we found the hatches nailed down, and the door of
the cabin secured, to prevent the goods being meddled with; blood was
sprinkled on the white paint in the cabin, and still darkly defaced the
deck.
After a short conversation, I found that although the schooner was
anchored above fifteen miles from the river’s mouth, the village was at
least that distance farther off. To save a day, therefore, I determined
to go up to the town myself that night in the Tuanku’s boat, and a
friend accompanying me, we started. Before we stopped, I had reason to
congratulate myself on my determination. Had we tried to ascend next
day in the ship’s boats, we should scarcely have arrived by sunset,
but a strong crew in a light canoe, pulling hard, enabled us to reach
Benggaya village about half-past nine. The moon shone brightly through
the trees, casting a clear light over a scene sufficiently curious.
The narrow river was spanned by a light, rough wooden bridge, a shade
better than a Dayak one. A few houses well lighted were on the opposite
bank to the large dwelling of the chief. Sherif Idrus took us by the
hand and led us up to Sherif Yasin, who begged us to be seated. It was
the first time since a memorable occasion that he had seen an European.
The room was very large, being, in fact, the principal portion of the
house; there was a raised sleeping place on one side, and before us was
the chief’s bed, where his women were hidden by a curtain that fell
round it. The Sherif sat on the end, and we opposite, on boards covered
with white cloth.
Yasin was a young man, pale, with a dissipated look, but quiet and
pleasant in his manners. He was clothed in a short dark cloak with
arms, a dress peculiar to the people on this coast, half Chinese,
half European. We entered into conversation on various subjects, but
principally about piracy and his recapture of the English schooner.
Of this he gave the following account. That having heard there was
a ship off the entrance of the river, he made inquiries of a Lanun
who had just come up to the village. The man said the schooner was
his; afterwards he wished to make out he had captured it from the
Spaniards, but the Tuanku being informed that it was an English vessel,
endeavoured to seize the Lanun, but he resisted and escaped into the
jungle, persuading the Portuguese cook and a Lascar to follow him. The
Tuanku then sent down a strong force to retake the schooner, which he
succeeded in doing; the only men who showed resistance were two Lanuns,
whom he put to death for killing the white men; the Sulus he could not
kill, as that might have excited the resentment of the Sulu rajahs. He
brought the vessel up the river, and put a strong guard in her, fearing
the Lanuns would return, Memadam, of Tungku, having threatened to come
back and recapture the schooner.
All present made great complaints of Tungku and other pirate places,
saying it was impossible to carry on their trade in safety. Tuanku
Yasin had only lately come to Benggaya from Labuk river; he intended
opening a new country; he would have lived on the sea coast, but feared
piratical attacks. Such was the account he rendered. He furnished us
with supper, cooked by my servant, Ali; omelettes, stews, sliced sweet
potatoes, rice, soup, which we enjoyed, and a bottle of wine made the
meal complete.
Tuanku Yasin had unfortunately taken to opium, and this drug is
doubtless the cause of his dissipated look. When I asked him whether
we were the first Europeans he had met, he smilingly answered no, he
had seen them once before. I afterwards found he had been a backer of
Sherif Usman’s, and had defended the Maludu forts with great bravery,
being the last man to quit the guns, and then only when the English
force had cut away the boom and penetrated to the defences.
About one we intimated a desire to retire, and a comfortable raised
sleeping place was provide for us, at the end of which three young
chiefs slept with drawn krises, a guard of honour, I suppose, over us.
Some of the people had never seen a white face before, and the town was
in alarm, fearing all the sailors were about to ascend.
_Nov. 1st._--At daylight I was up, writing out depositions, when
I observed a number of men lounging near with lighted cigars; I drew
my companion’s attention to the fact that these Sulus were actually
smoking whilst leaning over twenty-five barrels of gunpowder. Soon
after Tuanku Yasin made his appearance. He brought out the portion of
the cargo which he had stowed away in his inner room, consisting of
arms, guns, powder, cloths, and a number of small articles. After a
good breakfast, and a friendly parting, we started. Argus pheasants
were very numerous in the woods, and Sherif Yasin had constructed a
large aviary under his house in which he had about ten or twelve,
and he presented me with a very handsome pair. The men who manned the
canoe placed at our disposal by Sherif Yasin, pulled down with the ebb
at a good pace, and yet we did not reach the schooner until about ten,
three hours’ rapid moving, perhaps above fifteen miles. The river winds
in the most extraordinary manner; one place, divided now but by heavy
drift, took us a two miles’ turn to arrive at the opposite side. We
found the ship’s boats pulling up to meet us, thinking, as we had not
returned that some accident had happened. Got the schooner under weigh,
and then started in the cutter, reaching the steamer about seven.
_3rd._--Having prepared the schooner for sea, we set off, towing
her part of the way on her voyage back. A fleet of boats was reported
ahead; all rushed on deck, thinking they might be the Lanuns about to
attack Benggaya. I went up, and looking through the spy-glass, they
appeared war-boats of large size. We steamed towards them; they drew up
on the beach, and presently we saw the crews hurrying with their goods
on shore; as we neared, they gradually appeared smaller and smaller;
we had, in fact, been completely deceived by their looming over the
waters. When abreast of them we anchored, and I went off in the gig to
see who they were, intending to hail them and speak; but as we drew
near our guides declared they were Baju boats, and this we soon found
to be the case. They were small, neatly constructed, and fitted up for
the residence of a family.
As we closed with the beach we waved a white handkerchief to them, and
hailed; presently three men showed themselves, and came to us. One was
a Sulu; two others were Bajus. They were rather big men, featured much
like the Dayaks. They came from Banguey, and were bringing new boats to
sell to Sherif Yasin. I invited them to come on board; they said they
were in a great state of alarm, and men, women, and children rushed
into the jungle, hiding their goods, as the Sulu man thought we might
be Spaniards. They afterwards came on board. We inquired about clamp
shells (the _Concha gigas_). They had never seen any longer than
two feet. These Bajus were going to collect pearls at Lingkabu for the
sultan of Sulu, who had made a contract to furnish some, I believe, to
Mr. Wyndham. These men had never lived in houses.
I may conclude the story of the capture and recapture of the
_Dolphin_ schooner, by observing that an attempt was made to
enter into communication with the Lanuns of Tungku, who, however,
instead of respecting the white flag, fired on us, causing us some
loss; we destroyed a few of their villages, but being only a desultory
operation, it had no permanent effect. The British Government, hearing
of the good conduct of Sherif Yasin, rewarded him liberally.
I have referred to those Baju boats going to Lingkabu, off the mouth of
the Labuk river, to fish for pearls. The Sulu Archipelago furnishes,
probably, a greater number of beds of valuable oysters than any other
part of the world, and would, no doubt, be exceedingly productive,
if proper measures were taken to develope them. At present, however,
the natives confine themselves to dredging with what has been aptly
described as the fluke of a wooden anchor, and consequently obtain
but few. In shallower water, they occasionally dive, but are not
sufficiently practised to do so when the sea is eight fathoms deep. I
heard of an Englishman endeavouring to send down men with a regular
diving helmet, but it was said he found that the current was so strong
as to prevent the air passing down the tubes, by flattening them; but
there must have been some mismanagement.
Occasionally some very fine pearls are obtained, and brought to Labuan
for sale; I heard of one which was remarkably large and well shaped,
purchased by the Hon. George Edwardes, late Governor of Labuan, and was
pronounced, by all who saw it in the East, as the best that ever had
been brought under their notice. I have seen very handsome ones myself,
some perfectly round, others slightly pear-shaped.
The natives tell a story of a certain datu, who was a great trader,
and fond of sailing a prahu from Sulu to Manilla; during the course
of his voyages, he made the acquaintance of an English merchant, who
had, on various occasions, trusted him with goods and treated him very
liberally, not an unusual circumstance in the East. At last the datu
took to gambling, and squandered all his property, sold his houses, his
slaves, and at last lost a large sum, and was obliged to place his wife
and children in pawn as security. The only property he had preserved
was a favourite slave boy, and with him he started in a small canoe to
the oyster-banks. There they remained fishing, and had varied success,
but every day increasing the amount in the hollow bamboo in which the
natives generally keep their small seed pearls. In the evenings the
datu would talk over the tales they had heard from other fishermen,
and the chief delighted to recount the story of the vast pearl which
was seen by the men of old, and actually brought in its oyster into a
canoe, but had slipped from the fingers of the incautious captor. The
natives declare that the oysters containing the largest pearls are
always open, until you approach them, and that by cautiously peering
into the water, they may be seen.
One day the slave boy was preparing to dive, when he started back,
touched his master’s sleeve, and with signs of great emotion pointed
into the water; he could not speak. The datu looked, and there, seven
fathoms below them, lay an oyster, with an enormous pearl distinctly
visible. Without a moment’s reflection, he plunged in, and dived with
such skill and speed, that he reached the shell before it closed, and
actually had his fingers caught in it. He thrust hand and shell into
his bosom, and, being an expert swimmer, rose quickly to the surface,
and was helped into the boat by his anxious follower. They then forced
open the oyster, and there lay a pearl, unsurpassed in size and of an
extraordinary shape; they pulled back to Sugh, and selling all his
smaller pearls, the datu redeemed his wife and children, and set sail
for Manilla. There he went to the house of his English friend and said,
“Take this pearl, clear off my debt, give me what you like in return,
I shall be satisfied.” The merchant took the pearl, gave him what he
considered its value, at all events, enough to make Sulu ring with his
generosity, and sent the pearl to China, and what became of it I never
could distinctly trace; but I heard that what was called the “Mermaid
Pearl” in Bengal originally came from China, and the Sulus say their
one was like the body of a woman.
It is a very curious superstition in those countries, that if you
place gold or pearls in a packet by themselves, they will certainly
decrease in quantity or in number, and, in the end, totally disappear;
but if you add a few grains of rice, the treasure is safe. With pearls
they always do so, under the impression that they not only preserve
the amount but actually increase the number. I have never yet seen a
native open a packet of gold or pearls, or any precious stones, without
noticing some grains of rice.
The instances I have given of piracy are merely referred to, to show
what kind of mischief the pirates commit. I am aware they are not very
modern instances, but they were fresh when I wrote them in my journal,
and the same system is still pursued, though not to the same extent;
but I may add a few remarks on the present state of piracy on the
northern coast of Borneo. Once a year a fleet of Balignini pass down
the coast on their outward voyage, or running before the south-west
monsoon on their return home. In the month of July, 1861, a squadron of
private prahus coming up from the southward, sailed across the deep Bay
of Sarawak, and their light boats had a slight skirmish with a weakly
manned Sarawak gunboat, but directly they found a twelve-pounder shot
passing close to them, they pulled back to their consorts, as it is a
maxim with them to avoid all encounters where blows are likely to be
obtained, as they say, “We seek to plunder, not to fight.” Continuing
their course they reached Point Sirik, and there captured a boat
containing several of our Indian British subjects, and giving Labuan
a wide berth picked up a few fishermen off Mengkabong, and at last
reached Maludu Bay. Here they met some trading prahus from Sulu, and
with them they held friendly intercourse.
On board the Balignini prahus was a respectable native named Inchi
Ngah, from one of the Dutch settlements on the west coast of Borneo,
who had been captured off Pontianak: he immediately recognized some
fellow-countrymen on board the Sulu prahus, who had been missing from
their homes above a year. He now learnt that they had been captured
by the Balignini during the year 1860, and had been taken to Sulu;
that there the sultan, finding they were of high rank, had interested
himself in their case, and taken care of them, and had now sent them
back to Borneo as passengers, on board a Sulu trader on his way to
Labuan. Inchi Ngah begged they would ransom him, but they had no
property. At last they persuaded the Sulu trader to do it for them,
and Inchi Ngah was once more a free man. They arrived in Labuan the
latter end of August, just as the _Rainbow_ steamer was about to
start for Sarawak, and hearing that the great friend of the Malay race
was on board, they came and laid their case before him. As he never
refused his assistance where it was possible, he not only gave them all
passages to Sarawak, but refunded to the Sulu trader the money he had
advanced to ransom Inchi Ngah.
Having been a fellow-passenger with these men, I had many opportunities
of conversing with them, and they told me that when they were taken
there were already a hundred and fifty captives on board the boats,
and that the Balignini who captured them came from two places on the
chief island of the Archipelago--Sulu itself--and that the names of
their settlements were Dundong, and the little river of Kabungkul.
They added, that the Balignini, in order to preserve themselves from
attack, now always chose spots which were too shallow for steamers or
men-of-war to approach, that these two settlements had to be reached
through intricate channels leading through a mangrove swamp, and that
the houses were completely hidden by the trees.
A mangrove swamp is one of the most unpleasant things to cross, and,
therefore, affords great protection to settlements built within its
mazes. The mangrove tree always grows in salt or very brackish water,
and its roots lift it several feet above the soil, allowing the tides
to flow freely between them: at high water canoes can be pulled among
the trees, but at low tide it presents a tangled but open bunch of
roots to each separate tree, and it can only be passed by springing
from one slippery root to another, and by the assistance of the
branches. The mangrove trees at a distance look to an unpractised eye
much like other jungle, only they are of a more uniform height and
appearance; yet the colour of their leaves can never be mistaken.
The fact that these Balignini have settled on the island itself, shows
either that the sultan is indifferent to the spread of piracy, or is
unable to check his subjects. But the fact is, probably, that as piracy
is not looked upon as a dishonourable pursuit, native princes only
discountenance it when they are under the dread of its drawing on them
the vengeance of an European power. The principal other positions held
by the Balignini, as I have elsewhere observed, are Binadan and Tawee
Tawee.
The system pursued by the Balignini is admirably adapted for their
purpose; although they cruise in large prahus, yet to each they have
three or four attendant fast boats, and when they wish to surprise
unwary fishermen, they anchor their large vessels out of sight of land,
and send in the others to make captures; the most curious instrument
they employ is a kind of huge double-pronged fork, with barbed ends,
which they push over the neck of a flying enemy, and effectually stop
his movements.
A few years ago, some followers of Amba de Rajah, a Bornean, residing
in Sarawak, were pulling along the shore, when they suddenly came upon
a Balignini fast boat; they immediately turned and fled, and were
followed by the pirates, who shouted to them to surrender, but the
Borneans took no notice. The chief of the Balignini kept up a fire from
his rifle at the fugitives, and at last hit the steersman in the side,
who took no notice, but continued to urge on the others to renewed
exertions: again and again he was struck, but did not drop his paddle,
but continued the flight; at last a large trading boat coming in
sight, the pirates gave up the pursuit, and the Borneans escaped. The
brave fellow, who received the three wounds without flinching, though
he suffered much, yet eventually recovered, and I afterwards saw him in
Sarawak.
The Lanuns, though fiercer and more warlike pirates, have ceased for
several years to infest the north-west coast, but have more confined
their cruises to the neighbourhood of the Spanish and Dutch settlements.
I was once very much interested by hearing a Dayak converse of the
times when he went out with the Lanun pirates. We had just returned
to Sarawak from a mission to the Court of Siam, and were visiting the
Sibuyau Dayaks of Meradang, when the chief asked us where we had been.
The rajah answered, To Siam. Immediately an intelligent-looking Dayak
said, “I know Siam, and the country of Annam as well, for I in former
years used to go there in the pirate boats.”
On inquiry we found that when the Lanun fleets came down this coast,
they had numerous places where they received a hearty welcome, among
others at Sadong: the Sibuyaus were employed by them to row their boats
under a promise of receiving the heads of all the slain, and a very
small share of the plunder. Many of those present had been out with the
pirates along the coasts of Cochin China, Cambodia, Siam, and down the
Malay Peninsula as far as Singapore. But the tables were subsequently
turned, and the Lanuns preyed on their former allies. After our attack
on Tungku, a man came off to us, and proved to be a captive taken at
Sadong, but he evidently did not dislike his present position, as he
went ashore again under the pretence of collecting other fugitives, and
we saw no more of him; most probably he had married in the country.
I have often heard the natives speak of a captain of an English
man-of-war, named Morris, who committed suicide after an unsuccessful
attack on the Lanun pirates at Sambas, about the year 1812, but I have
never been able to verify the story.
Steamers, however, are beginning to disgust them with the life, and if
a little combined and active effort were made by our steam gunboats,
in conjunction with those of the Dutch and Spaniards, piracy might be
effectually suppressed. Traders who were accustomed to the Sulu seas
used to speak of the little island of Sarañgani, off the coast of
Magindanau, as a mart where the pirates assembled to sell the captured
slaves to those traders who frequented that port, and the latter were
generally from Sulu, though occasionally a few Bagis prahus came in to
purchase the women and children, but it is possible that many changes
have since taken place.
I have before observed that Sulu was a great slave mart, and that
pirates and slave-dealers of every kind were accustomed to resort
there: it is not surprising, therefore, that the Spaniards should
organize an attack upon it, but it was unfortunate that this attack
should take place immediately after the sultan of Sulu had signed a
treaty with the English, and I have little doubt that the object could
have been better effected by a regular surveillance. But the Spanish
authorities thought differently, and early in 1851 they sent to make
demands on the sultan, and on these not being immediately complied
with, the men-of-war opened fire upon the town, which was promptly
replied to by the shore batteries. I saw a letter from the sultan
of Sulu, recounting this engagement. He said that after “an awful
cannonading, by the blessing of God we disabled two of their vessels,
and they retired.”
But this was only a preliminary attack. In the following month a large
naval force came down from Manilla, with seventeen hundred troops, and
landing near the great tree at the watering-place, marched upon the
town while the ships shelled it from the harbour. The Sulus behaved
with great courage, and though opposed to regular soldiers, and
defending a comparatively unprotected part of the town, as they had
reckoned on an attack by sea, and not by land; they held their own for
several hours, and it cost their enemy one hundred and fifty killed and
wounded before they abandoned their houses and retired to the hills.
Datu Daniel and his brothers defended their stockade to the last, and
it was here that the Spanish suffered their severest loss; several of
the young Sulu nobles were killed, and the stockade carried by assault.
The Spanish troops behaved very well. The town was then garrisoned, but
it would have taken an army to subdue the whole island, as on losing
Sugh, the sultan and his ministers retired to the mountains, where the
Spanish forces found it impracticable to follow them. A kind of truce
was patched up, but they have refused to acknowledge the supremacy
of Spain, and have removed the seat of government beyond the reach
of ships’ artillery, and I saw a letter from the sultan, in which he
said he would rather die than hoist the Castilian flag. Last year I
heard the sultan was most anxious to send his sons to England to be
educated, but had no means of accomplishing his wish. The Spaniards
soon found their conquest a very unprofitable one, as they only held
those spots which were actually in the possession of their troops; they
soon, therefore, abandoned the island, though they for some years had a
garrison, I heard, on the little island of Tulyan.
I pitied the sultan and his nobles, as with all their faults they were
capable of much better things, and had a little judicious influence
been used to guide them well, and a little power exercised to destroy
the actual pirate haunts, there would have been no occasion to destroy
the pretty town of Sugh.
I do not think I have mentioned elsewhere, that when I first saw this
picturesque island, there was a forest, dead in appearance, on the
right hand of the town, covering the slopes of one of the high hills.
This was an extensive wood of fine teak trees. A long drought had
rendered everything as dry as touchwood, when an incautious islander
lit a fire among the trees, and the dead leaves and twigs around being
perfectly dry soon ignited, and the flames spread in every direction,
and charred and burnt the trees, stripping them of their luxuriant
foliage; but five months after, I again visited this spot, and found
that many of the apparently dead trees were now putting forth buds and
young leaves, as the fire had not completely destroyed all.
It is a very singular circumstance that the teak is not found in any
of the forests of Borneo, although in former days it was said to exist
on the north-east coast, but I made very particular inquiries of the
Sulus whom I found there, and they said they had never seen it except
on their own island. It is a matter of regret, as although Borneo
possesses some very fine woods, yet none equal to the teak.
Remembering Forest’s statement that elephants were found in his time in
the forests which clothed so much of the soil of the island, I asked
Datu Daniel about it; his answer was, that even within the remembrance
of the oldest men then alive, there were still a few elephants left
in the woods, but that, finding they committed so much damage to the
plantations, the villagers had combined and hunted the beasts till they
were all killed; I was pleased to find the old traveller’s account
confirmed.
CHAPTER X.
THE KINGDOM OF BORNEO PROPER.
Its Nominal Extent--Its Government--The Sultan--The Viziers--The
Shabandar--The inferior Officers--Their Influence--“The
Abode of Peace”--Poverty-stricken Gentlemen--Possessions of
the Nobles--The Country parcelled out among them--Distant
Dependencies becoming independent--Oppression of the
surrounding Districts--Divisions among the Nobles--Poverty
of the Nobles--Population of Brunei--System of Plunder--Sale
of Children--Handsome Brass Guns--Their Fate--No
Justice--Crime nominally Punished--No Possibility of
Improvement--Anecdotes--System of Local Self-government--The
Parishes--Their Names, and the Occupation of their
Inhabitants--Fishing--Shell Heaps--Asylum--Treatment of a
Slave Girl--Political Parties--Religious Schism--An attempted
Explanation--Followers of each Party--Difference of Length
of Fast Month--Visiting the Graves of Ancestors--A pretty
Custom--Search after Excitement--Story Tellers--Conjurors--Their
Arts--Practice of Abortion--The Egg-cooking Trick--The Sultan’s
Palace--Its Inhabitants--His Wife and his Concubines--Their
Treatment--Bold Lovers--Anecdote--Tragical Termination--The
Women deceive their Lords--The Inverted Language--Education
neglected--Sight of a Harim--Mutual Disappointment--Rajahs
pleasant Companions--Their Customs--Tenacious of Rank--Decay
of Brunei--Exactions suffered by the Aborigines--The
Kadayans--Tradition--Hill Men united--Commotion--Kadayans
have great Influence--Lovely Country--Kadayans removed
to Labuan--Short Description of that Colony--Excellent
Position--Coal--Telegraphic Communication--Good Effect of
our Colony--Trade Increasing--Pepper--Exports--Cotton--Fine
Jungle--Method of Collecting the Camphor and the Gamboge
in Siam--The Coal-fields--Revenue of the Sultan--Brunei
Government no Power--Crime unpunished--A Bold Thief--Makota
and the Fire--Nominal Punishments--Cutting off the Hand--The
Fail of Ashes--Singing Fish--Curious Method of Catching
Prawns--Tuba Fishing--Superstition--Money--Coinage of the
Capital--Cloth--Iron--Gun-metal--Good Manufacturers of Brass
Ordnance--A 12-pounder--Similarity of Customs--The Sultan--The
Heir to his Subjects--Makota and his Gold.
Borneo Proper is one of the few Malay kingdoms that remain in the
Archipelago possessing the semblance of independent government; and as
a type of what was, and what we may hope is passing away, it is worth a
short description.
Nominally, this kingdom extends from Sarawak to Maludu Bay and the
islands to the north of it; but, in reality, it possesses no power, and
exercises little influence over its dependencies.
The government consists of a sultan, now dignified by the higher title
of Iang de per Tuan, freely to be translated by “He who governs.” The
office is at present held by one who has no claim by descent, but
was chosen to avoid a threatened struggle between the popular, but
illegitimate, sons of the late sultan and the more legal aspirant
to the throne. He is in general a well-meaning man, but tainted by
a grasping avarice. Neither in theory nor practice is the sultan
despotic: he must consult on all great occasions with his chief
officers, and all important documents should bear at least two of their
seals.
The four principal officers of state are: the bandhara, for home
affairs; the de gadong, for revenue and government stores; the
pamancha, for home affairs likewise, and who on certain occasions may
supply the place of the bandhara, and transact business for him; and
the tumanggong, who is supposed to protect the coast and lead all
warlike expeditions.
There is a fifth officer, of lower rank, the shabandar, to look after
the affairs of commerce, and regulate the intercourse with strangers
frequenting the port.
Each of the four great officers is entitled to eight assistants of
noble blood, besides others of inferior rank; but, as the sultan
feelingly observed, the glory of Brunei, called by themselves
Dar’u’salam, the Abode of Peace, has departed, and he can only find
a few who care to be promoted to these offices, which bring neither
profit nor consideration. The names are there, but the reality is gone.
There is a class of officers who possess very great influence in
Borneo; they are the ministers chosen from the ranks of the people, the
chief of whom is called the orang kaya de gadong. Seldom is anything
of importance undertaken without consulting them, as they are known to
have a powerful following, and greatly to influence the minds of the
people. At the demise of a sovereign, their influence is especially
felt, and if they were united, I believe they would carry out their
views in spite of any opposition.
The present orang kaya de gadong is now very old, but all his life
he has been a consistent opponent of any intercourse with Christian
nations; and when forced by business to sit and converse with
Europeans, the expression of his face is most offensive, and he looks
as if he loathed the duty in which he was engaged, and he is one of the
few natives I have met who appeared to long to insult you. He was one
of the most active of those engaged in the conspiracy to assassinate
the rajah Muda Hasim, partly on account of his supposed attachment to
the English alliance.
Every descendant of a noble family, whether legitimate or illegitimate,
is entitled to call himself pañgeran, or ampuan, which causes the
country to swarm with these poverty-stricken gentlemen, who are a curse
to the industrious classes.
Nearly every district belongs to some particular family, which by usage
possesses an almost unchallenged power over the people, and is thus
removed from the control of the government. Many districts are divided
among various families, who have each certain villages, and live on the
amount they can obtain by taxes or forced trade. The sultan possesses a
large number, and each of the principal nobles has several, while many,
formerly wealthy, have dissipated their property, and sold their rights
to others. Those who do not possess any particular districts, endeavour
to obtain a living by pressing from the aborigines all that their Malay
chiefs have left them.
As, however, the central government is gradually falling into decay,
the more distant dependencies are throwing off the yoke of the absent
nobles, and asserting an amount of independence which is measured by
distance and their own power. Agents of the nobles still visit them,
but the produce collected is but small. This, however, tells heavily
on the districts nearer the capital, and the unfortunate Muruts
and Bisayas are ground to the dust to support a useless and idle
population. I have given some anecdotes of this state of things in my
journal up the Limbang.
The divisions among the nobles themselves prevent them ever uniting to
regain an influence over their distant provinces, which one by one are
falling from them. There is a poverty among these men which is almost
inconceivable in a rich country, as whatever the amount obtained from
the neighbouring villages, it can but support the idlers who throng
round the chiefs.
Brunei contains at least 25,000 inhabitants, half of whom depend,
directly or indirectly, on the nobles, and in their name carry on a
system of plunder unintelligible in other countries. If the followers
be sent to make a demand on a certain village, they will obtain double
the amount for their own shares. If the inhabitants refuse to pay,
their children are seized; and if their means are really exhausted, the
little ones are carried off into slavery.[12]
I knew a man, named Sirudin, who at one time brought over seventeen
children obtained in that way from the people of Tutong, and this
occurred during the spring of 1857. The parents laid their complaints
before the sultan; but Sirudin had sold them off to the principal
nobles, and no redress was to be had. The sultan pretended to be very
angry with the man, but put the chief blame on the pañgeran de gadong,
who, he said, was beyond his power. The aborigines have often risen in
insurrection; but being disunited, they have not thereby improved their
condition: the Bornean Government always threatening them with calling
in the Kayans to subdue any opposition. The Muruts and Bisayas of
Limbang are the most impoverished people I have ever met, excessively
dirty, both in their persons and their houses, covered with scurfy skin
diseases, and their children much troubled with ulcers.
Before the Kayans commenced their inroads into the districts situated
on the banks of the Limbang river, the Muruts and Bisayas were much
more independent than they now are, were more wealthy and better
armed. I have heard my old friend the chief of Blimbing describe with
great minuteness three beautiful brass guns his father had inherited
from his ancestors, which had silver vent holes, were covered with
scrolls and inscriptions which the most learned haji could not read.
These arms were the pride of the village, but on an evil day, the
late sultan thought of them, though with all his faults he was not
a gross oppressor of the aborigines; so he sent for the orang kaya
of Blimbing, and tried to cajole him out of the guns. For months the
chief was firm and would not part with them, but at last, ceding to
his sovereign’s entreaties, and to the offer of double their value,
he gave way and delivered them up. As soon as the sultan had secured
them, full payment was found to be inconvenient, so the chief was never
able to get even their original cost, though if he dunned long enough,
the sultan would pay him an instalment, and with many flattering words
dismiss him; very different treatment from what a chief who dunned
would get from the present race of rulers. In fact no country could
have existed half a century under the existing system. The three
guns were doubtless of Spanish make, and were among those which were
taken from the late sultan, after the capture of Brunei by Sir Thomas
Cochrane, and were sent to England; there I heard they were melted up
during the late war, and helped to construct some of the cannon which
were sent to the Crimea. The present orang kaya of Blimbing said, it
reconciled him to the loss of the guns to know how well the English had
thrashed the Borneans.
Even in the capital itself justice is not to be obtained. The instances
which came to my knowledge were innumerable. I will mention a few to
illustrate my meaning. In 1859, I was one day standing near my wharf,
when my attention was called to a boat passing, in which there were
one dead and one wounded man. I inquired the cause: it appeared that
a Bornean, named Abdullah, pulling by a canoe in which two men were
fishing, stopped on seeing them, and accused one of attempting to
escape to our colony of Labuan, affirming that he was a slave. The man
denied both statements; upon which, Abdullah began beating him with
a paddle. His father, the other man, interfered to protect his son,
when Abdullah seized a spear, and drove it through the old man’s body,
and then severely wounded the son. There was much excitement among the
relatives of both parties, and they assembled in great numbers, but the
sultan and ministers interfered and promised inquiry. The result was,
they inflicted a fine of 120_l._ on Abdullah, at which he laughed
contemptuously, and never paid a farthing. He was considered to be
under the protection of the de gadong, and no one would interfere to
punish him.
All attempts at improving the neighbourhood of the capital are stopped
by such cases as the following. Another man, also named Abdullah, made
a small plantation of cocoa-nut palms, and carefully tended them for
seven years. Just as they were about to bear fruit, he was visited by
a relative of the de gadong who claimed the plantation on account of
its being made on his land. Abdullah appealed to the sultan: it was
apparent on the face of it, he had used waste land, to which he had
a right, but the case was decided against him. He asked permission
to visit his property to remove his goods, and next day called on
the pañgeran to say the ground was at his service. He went to take
possession, but found only the land, every tree had been deprived of
its cabbage, and consequently died, and jungle soon grew up there
again. Abdullah placed himself under the protection of the tumanggong,
who quietly chuckled at the joke. The same thing would have occurred to
one of my own servants had I not remonstrated.
I will only mention another. A Chinese boy robbed his Chinese master
of a large amount of goods, and carried them off to the house of the
head Mahomedan priest, whose son he asked to secrete them for him.
The boy was subsequently seized, but escaped punishment by turning
Mahomedan, and the imám’s son was considered far too respectable to be
punished, or even to be compelled to restore the goods.
When such cases are of common occurrence it is not to be expected
that the city should be otherwise than in confusion, being without a
government able or willing to do justice. It is only kept together by
the sort of local self-government which obtains in all the kampongs
or sections of the city, and by the strong feeling which unites all
the branches of a family, and often prevents crimes from the fear of
vengeance. I may here notice that Brunei is divided into kampongs
(sections or parishes).
Ascending the river and entering the city, the first kampong on the
left is called Pablat, and is the residence of some of the most
sturdy of the inhabitants; they are the fishermen, who have their
fixed nets on the banks of the rivers, and on the extensive sandbanks
which stretch across the bay, inside Muara Island. Although they are
constantly at work, they are not very enterprising, as they never place
their nets in water deeper than two fathoms. Haji Saman, an intelligent
man, but notorious for his piratical connections, once tried the
experiment in five fathom waters, and his great success should have
tempted others, but as yet they have not followed his example. Their
nets are made of split bamboo, and are of various heights: the lower
are fixed near the bank, and the longer are added on as they enter
into deeper water, so that the summits are of uniform height. The fish
ascending or descending the river, and meeting with this obstruction,
follow it to the end, and enter a very simple trap, being simply open
spaces with narrow passages leading into them; and their prolonged
sides prevent the fish easily discovering the way out. As soon as it is
low water, a basket which fits the bottom of the inner trap is raised,
and the fish are put into baskets, and the men start for the capital
in the fastest canoes I have almost ever seen, and never appear to
draw breath till they have reached the town, eight to seventeen miles’
distance from their nets. Their wives and daughters are waiting their
arrival, and immediately pull off to the floating market to dispose of
the day’s capture. There is much rivalry as to the arrival of the first
boat, as the profit realized is greater, and for that reason they will
seldom stop to sell their fish during the transit. I imagine that it is
on account of their being constantly in the water that their skins are
so scurfy.
The next kampong is Perambat, from _rambat_, a casting-net,
and constant practice has given these men wonderful proficiency, as
standing on the bows of a small canoe, they will throw a net that has a
spread of thirty feet, with such perfect accuracy that its outer edges
fall in a circle on the water at the same time, and they thus catch a
large amount of small fish and prawns.
Then follows a large parish, Membakut Pañgeran Mahomed, which contains
the houses of many of the principal nobles, as well as the residence
of the late sultan’s widow, all very tumble-down looking structures;
but above them and at their back is a kampong of blacksmiths and
kris-makers, called Pemproanan. Then follows Membakut, raised on
firm ground, and here are a few Chinese and Kling houses, which have
been raised since the fire of 1856, to which reference is made in a
subsequent paragraph. Kampong Saudagar, or the merchant’s parish,
derives its name, it is said, from a Portuguese trader from Makau
having resided on that spot about sixty years ago, but is now the
residence of two nobles, Maharajah Lela and Sura. Kampong Padaun, from
_daun_, a leaf, employed in converting the leaf of the nipa palm
into roofing mats; Pasir, rice cleaners, and makers of rice mortars;
Sungei Kuyuk, wood-workers and prawn fishers, but more for themselves
than the market; Pemriuk, workers in brass, from _priuk_, a brass
cooking-pot; Menjaling and Pemukat, occupied by fishermen, as the names
imply--_jaling_, a fishing-net, _pukat_, a kind of seine or
drag-net. Burong Piñgé is the name of the last kampong on the left side
in ascending, and is inhabited by the principal traders and wealthiest
men in the town.
In ascending the river the first kampong on the right hand is called
Terkoyong, from _koyong_, a shell; and its inhabitants were the
principal collectors of the pearl oyster, which was at one time so
plentiful near the entrance of the Brunei river. I may remark that when
the collection was very paying, the heaps of shells which were thrown
from the houses, after extracting the pearl, rose several feet above
the level of the floor, although, originally the houses were built on
posts in the water; now, however, they appear to have sunk in the soft
mud, and are completely concealed by the deposits of the river; but the
level of the bank is greatly raised. I have heard surprise expressed at
the natives taking the trouble to bring home such cumbersome articles
as heaps of shells, when the products they seek might be all contained
in a small paper packet; they, however, not only seek the pearl, but
eat its contents the oyster, and a Malay does not much care for bad
smells. And this holds especially with the aborigines; they positively
appear to have no olfactory sense at all. I have seen them collecting
shell-fish on the beach which they intended to transport in their boats
to their villages, perhaps fifty miles up a river, and in the warm
tropical sun. The flesh by that time would be nearly decomposed, yet
they appear to enjoy it the more keenly; in fact, any man who can eat
with relish an egg, black with rottenness, can have little sense of
smell. I think all the shell heaps which are found in these parts of
the world may be accounted for in this way, though as the aborigines
of Borneo keep pigs, no high shell heaps are raised, as these
indefatigable routers spread them about in every direction.
Labuan Kapal, or the ship’s anchorage, is the next kampong, and
opposite to the houses there is deep water up to the wharves, so that
ships can load without boats. The inhabitants are much employed making
the kejangs, or mats of the inner nipa leaf, used to cover boats,
and make the walls of houses. Kampongs Jawatan Jeludin and Khatib
Bakir, traders and blacksmiths. Peminiak, from _miniak_, oil,
manufacturers of that article; and it is also the residence of the
two viziers, pañgerans de gadong and pamancha. Kampongs Pañgeran Ajak,
and Ujong Tajong, general traders; Sungei Kadayan, right-hand bank
ascending, is the residence of the pañgeran tumanggong, and the orang
kaya de gadong, and various other government officers; many of the
people are employed casting brass guns, or are goldsmiths or general
traders, and latterly their women have commenced the manufacture of
expensive and handsome gold brocade. In this parish the heterodox haji
Mahomed lived, and his mosque is situated; while on the opposite side
of the little Kadayan river is the orthodox musjid, which, though built
on firm ground, and of brick, is a mean-looking building. Then follows
the palace, with its attendant houses, the bandhara and his people, and
a kampong sometimes called Pasar, or the bazaar.
The remaining parishes are small, and consist of Tamui, Panchur
Brasur, Kandang Batu or Prandang, Alañgan, Blanak and Tamasik, and are
inhabited by traders, gardeners, and a few blacksmiths, with a small
section called Pañgeran Daud’s kampong, who are entirely engaged in
making mats. Some of these kampongs occasionally vary their names,
particularly when they depend on those of the principal people who
reside there.
I am afraid this is a dry enumeration, but it gives an idea of their
mode of life, and the sort of corporations into which they are divided,
and who support the cause of their individual members, whether right
or wrong, and often take the part of a fugitive criminal who may cast
himself at the feet of a chief man and ask his protection. Ten years
ago a man committed a murder in Membakut Pañgeran Mahomed, and fled
to the Burong Piñgé kampong, whose people refused to deliver him up;
several times the two parishes mustered their forces, but never came to
blows, particularly as they belonged to the same political parties. In
1859, after seven years escaping all traps, he fell into the hands of
pañgeran Suleyman, whose follower he had murdered, and with the consent
of the sultan he was immediately executed.
I was one day walking in the grounds near the consulate, when I was
annoyed by a most offensive effluvia rising from a line of low trees
which skirted the river’s bank. I found that some one had placed there
the body of a young girl of thirteen. I reported the case to the
sultan, and heard that two women had agreed to exchange slaves, a boy
for a girl, but had not yet carried out the arrangement. The owner of
the female slave noticing she was ailing, sent her to the owner of the
boy, who refused to receive her in that state. The unfortunate child
was bandied about between the two in an open canoe during a whole day,
exposed to sun and rain, and at night a mat was thrown over her, and
the canoe tied to the wharf of the owner of the boy. In the morning it
was discovered she was dead, and her mistress, to save the trouble of
burying her, threw her corpse where I found it. The woman was nominally
fined--not for her cruelty, but for neglecting to inter it.
The capital is divided among the partisans of the sons of the late
sultan, who hold the offices of tumanggong and pamancha, and are
supported by their uncle the de gadong; leaving the bandhara, the
highest minister in rank, though not in power, as the mainstay of the
opposing faction, who support the sons of the late Muda Hassim, whose
death is described in Captain Mundy’s volumes on Borneo. The tumanggong
is the popular candidate, and he, or one of his family, may succeed to
the throne without bloodshed, as the opposing candidate is daily losing
ground. I liked both of them, but the former is more likely to keep
things together than the latter. It is a government, however, beyond
all hope of improvement.
To add to the difficulties of the country, a religious schism has
appeared. It is curious, though very difficult to be understood. I
will endeavour to give a clear account of my view of the case. About
twenty years ago, a Bornean haji, named Mahomed, taught that God had
no personality; to say he had, was to acknowledge oneself an infidel.
Being pressed for an explanation, he said, the personality might be
allowed in the thoughts, but to express it in words was to compare
the Deity to a human being, which was a gross impiety. The religious
world, shocked at this heresy, sent a deputation to Mecca, who returned
denouncing haji Mahomed as a false teacher. He replied by accusing
the hajis of deceiving the people; that his was the true doctrine, as
taught by the elders of the Church, and that he would go and inquire
for himself. After an absence of two years, he arrived full of Arabic
and learning to uphold his former opinion. The controversy waxed
hotter and hotter, deputation and counter-deputation went off to
Mecca; but each party always asserted that the learned doctors had
decided for them. Rival mosques were built, with their rival imams and
preachers. The people of the capital, not understanding the question,
ranged themselves under their chosen leaders, and added to their
political differences their religious quarrels.
The present sultan, and the family of the late rajah Muda Hassim,
with about a tenth of the city, but nearly all the hajis, support the
orthodox or personality theory; while the pañgeran tumanggong, the rest
of the family of the late sultan, and most of the sections of Brunei,
are followers of haji Mahomed’s doctrine. This controversial haji died
about four years ago, and the present sultan was very loth to permit
him to be buried in the usual cemetery; but his friends mustered too
strongly to be resisted, and all opposition was withdrawn. The two
parties have a difference in the length of the fast month: one reckons
it at twenty-nine days, the other at thirty; and both are ready to
apply the term infidel to their opponents.
I may mention, whilst speaking of the fast month, that on its
termination the sultan and rajahs proceed in gay procession to visit
and have cleaned the graves of their ancestors. It is a pretty sight:
some fifty long prahus, urged on by from ten to fifty paddles, gliding
over the waters, with gay flags, bright-coloured umbrellas, in which
the royal yellow, and the white, black, green, and red of the viziers
are conspicuous. Gongs and drums are beaten, and the crews shout, to
give life to the scene.
There is a very pretty custom among the Malays, to visit their friends
on the great feast-day that terminates the fast, and to endeavour to
do away with any ill-feeling, jealousy, or animosity, that may have
arisen during the past year, by asking pardon of all their friends for
any shortcomings. They do this to all, as they thus avoid any peculiar
notice of the offence, and seek forgiveness also for any unintentional
annoyance they may have given.
Anything that varies the monotonous life led by the people of the
capital is seized upon with avidity. They, therefore, delight in
story-tellers, conjurors, and dancers. There are several female
professional story-tellers, who go from one harim to another, relating,
in a sort of chant, metrical tales of former days. They are supposed
to improvise, and may occasionally vary the tale and embellish it with
fresh incidents, but they generally rely on the Malay versions of
Indian poems. These women are eagerly sought after by the court ladies,
as they not only thus amuse them, but are the collectors of the news
and scandal of the day. I have occasionally listened to them, but not
with much interest.
There are also women who pretend to be possessed with a spirit,
and whilst under its influence are supposed to speak in an unknown
tongue--uttering unearthly sounds, and making violent contortions of
their faces. They likewise pretend to be able to discover stolen goods,
and to cure diseases; they will even assist a jealous woman to destroy
the life of another by incantations, making a little wax image, and as
that melts away so does the woman fade whom she endeavours to destroy.
She compounds charms and philtres for the love-sick, and will make some
mysterious marks on a bit of paper, which, placed near the sleeping-mat
of man or woman, will suffice to change the affections of the occupant
of that bed.
Many are also adepts in the art of procuring abortions, and practice
has given them so much perfection that, by mechanical means, they
succeed in their designs without injuring the patient. They drive
a thriving trade in the capital, and prevent the necessity of
infanticide, which therefore very rarely occurs. When it is considered
that the rajahs part with their concubines after the birth of one or
two children, it is not surprising that a favourite should take any
means to uphold her influence. They are never taught morality when
young, and they follow eagerly in the footsteps of their elders.
More than half the daughters of the nobility cannot procure husbands,
as they are not allowed to marry a person of inferior rank, and must
receive a large marriage portion. There is very little restraint on the
conduct of these girls, none but such as they place upon themselves, as
it is quite impossible, with their slight houses, to prevent nocturnal
visits of lovers; but should they prove with child, it is considered a
great scandal. I believe Brunei to be the most immoral city of which I
have heard.
But to return to the conjurors. When they give notice that it is their
intention to receive visitors, as the spirits will most probably
enter into them, their houses are crowded by young men and such women
as can get there, but they often confine their performances to some
sleight of hand. I watched one do a trick, and she did it cleverly. She
began by telling me she knew I disbelieved in her power, but she would
convince me, by cooking one of my own eggs from simply breathing on
it. I sent for one, and taking it in her hands, she appeared suddenly
to be possessed by the spirit: she uttered unearthly sounds, pretended
to desire to attack some one who laughed at her, so as to require two
women to hold her back, until the indignant comments of the bystanders
caused the scoffer to hide her face; she then commenced putting her
features through such contortions as effectually to prevent my watching
her countenance, but I kept my eyes upon her hands; presently she
became quiet, and began breaking the egg; it was certainly cooked; she
carefully collected the shell, and then eat its contents. She then
breathed on the fragments of shell, and almost immediately opened her
hand with my uncooked egg untouched.
Though it is not my object to give an account of the Malays, I will
enter slightly into the condition of the women. In Brunei, the wives
and daughters of the sultan and of the nobles are much more concealed
than holds with the Malays in other parts of Borneo, and one can only
describe a harim from hearsay. It is nothing like the gorgeous palaces
of Western Asia; the sultan’s house consists of a long building like
a rough barn, raised on posts in the water, and is perhaps seventy
feet long by thirty in breadth. It is one story high, though in the
roof are some rough attics: in this residence he keeps his wives, his
concubines, and his female slaves; so jealous is he that no one shall
see them, that when the house requires repairs, he will work with his
own hands rather than permit the labourers to enter the inner rooms:
the only man in whom he has confidence is a very old decrepit pañgeran,
who assists him in the work. He has seventy women confined in this
small space: his principal wife has a large room, elegantly hung with
silk hangings, and well matted; she is permitted luxuries denied to
all but three or four favourite concubines. The other unfortunates are
allowed a little rice, salt, firewood, and water, and once a year a
cheap suit of clothes; for everything extra they must depend on their
families or their lovers.
The palace is, as I have said, like a rough barn, but the flooring is
simply slips of a palm stem, tied together with rattans, and can be
opened with facility; through the interstices every kind of refuse is
thrown, to be carried away by the current.
This offers temptation to the bold lover, who comes in the dead of
night, and by the signal of a white rag hung through the floor, knows
the coast is clear: sometimes the girls get bold, and as they are
all in league to deceive the sultan, they can occasionally leave the
house without being discovered. The daughters of the late Muda Hassim,
in 1859, absented themselves for three weeks and were not found out.
Sometimes it causes a tragedy. I will mention one which occurred during
my residence in the capital (1858).
There were two sisters living in the sultan’s harim, the eldest was
his concubine. He one day entered her room and found her absent with
her mother, and, on inquiry, he heard that she was in the habit of
fetching both her daughters away for the purpose of intrigue, as the
sultan allowed them nothing but what I have stated as the usual fare.
He determined to make an example: so when she brought back the girls,
he told her the pañgeran shabandar wanted to speak to her; she went,
and, on entering the room saw on the table the fatal instrument,
the garotte; she guessed her fate, but fell on her knees before the
pañgeran and begged for her life, offering to confess the names of
those who had received her daughters at their houses: upon this,
pañgeran Mahomed, a dissipated young man, struck her on the mouth with
his slipper, and, the signal being given, the assistants slipped the
skein of thread over her head, fixed the board at the back of her neck,
and turning a short stick, strangled her, and then delivered the body
to her astonished husband.
The board used has two holes in it, through which the thick skein of
brownish thread is passed, and once the latter is round the neck, it is
easy to tighten it by the stick fixed behind.
The eldest daughter was expelled the harim, and given in marriage to
the sultan’s old favourite, while the younger one was disgraced to
slaves’ duties.
The pañgeran tumanggong, discovering a woman assisting his concubines
from the house, slew her with his own kris, in the presence of his wife.
The sultan’s wife and favourite concubines dress well in European
silks and satins, and possess an abundance of gold ornaments, but the
others are, as I have said, poorly provided for.
The women delight in every practice that can deceive their lords, and
they have invented a system of speaking to each other in what may be
called an inverted language--in Malay, “Bhasa Balik.” It is spoken in
different ways: ordinary words have their syllables transposed, or to
each syllabic another one is added. For “mari,” to come, they say,
“malah-rilah;” they are constantly varying it, and girls often invent
a new system, only confided to their intimate acquaintances; if they
suspect they are understood by others, they instantly change it.
As might be expected, the education of the women is very much
neglected; few can write, and none spell correctly. I often had
love-letters shown me by amorous but ignorant swains, who were afraid
to trust the discretion of any native writer, and they have invariably
been ill-written and worse spelt; this, however, is not said in
disparagement, as few of the men can either read or write.
The women are fond of making vows, and to that practice I am indebted
for my only glimpse of a Bornean harïm. During my first expedition to
Molu, my boat snapped on a snag, and I was left to return through the
jungle. The report spread that I was dead, and various vows were made;
among others, the wives and daughters of some of the rajahs made a vow,
if I returned in safety, I should visit them and be showered over with
yellow rice for good luck’s sake. The pañgerans consented, thinking I
was dead; but, on my safe return, the ladies insisted upon carrying
out their vow; they were anxious to see a white man within their walls.
The nobles came and asked me; I at first declined, but, on being
pressed, consented. The whole place was very paltry; about twenty
middle-aged women were present, while a crowd of young girls, half
hidden by a curtain, occupied the lower end of the room. On my
displaying the most perfect indifference as to whether I saw them or
not, they gradually emerged. I observed no pretty faces, and constant
confinement to the house had rendered their skins of a very light
yellow. I am afraid we were mutually disappointed, as the only remark I
heard them make about me was, “How very dull his eyes are;” and so they
were compared to their flashing black ones.
Full of faults as the Bornean rajahs doubtless are, oppressors of
their subjects, and totally unfitted to rule, yet they are, in my
opinion, the most agreeable natives I have ever met. As a companion,
few Europeans could be more interesting than was the shabandar, the
Makota of Keppel’s book, and “the serpent,” as he was popularly called.
I never wearied of his society, and always enjoyed the little picnics
to which he invited me. His death, which I have related in my Limbang
Journal, was tragic, though he deserved his fate. They all display, in
the most exciting discussions, a propriety of behaviour and gentleness
of manner that wins those who have dealings with them. Procrastination
is their greatest fault, and sometimes trying to the temper.
They are very tenacious of their dignity, and only the royal family
can use yellow; and for a trader to fly streamers or flags from the
mast-head is a great offence to the nobles. It used to be, and will
probably be again after the present sultan’s death, a punishable
offence for a person of inferior rank to pass the palace steps with his
umbrella spread, or to sit in the after-part of a boat, that being the
place for nobles. A man wearing yellow would be punished, while even
the slave girls may dress in that colour. The distinctions of rank are
kept up with great strictness, yet the sultan will talk to the people
with perfect familiarity, but they always reply in a most respectful
tone; though during the evening free conversation is encouraged.
The sultan and nobles deplore the decay of their country, but cannot,
or rather will not, understand that it is their own unreflecting
rapacity which destroys the springs of industry.
There are no fixed impositions, but the aborigines suffer from the
exactions of all, until, they have told me that, in despair, they
are planting yearly less and less, and trusting to the jungle for a
subsistence. The price of uncleaned rice has risen four hundred per
cent. during my experience of Brunei. This partly arises from the
ravages of the Kayans, who have lessened the agricultural population,
and greatly narrowed the area of cultivation; and partly, as I have
observed, from the dependencies ceasing to yield so much to the nobles,
they are compelled to depend more on the neighbouring tribes.
I have not yet mentioned the people who inhabit the hills which
surround the capital; they are called Kadayans, and are evidently
aborigines converted to Islamism. It is a tradition among them that
they and the Perambat and Pablat sections of the city inhabited by the
fishermen were formerly Muruts, and joined the Mahomedans about four
hundred years ago. In digging near the consulate, I found a large jar,
with the remains of bones and a skull, almost dissolved by time, very
similar to the ones used for the same purpose by the Muruts of the
present day. It is supposed by the Kadayans to have been buried there
before their conversion.
As a rule, these hill-men are never oppressed; a few, however, who
seem to have had claims over them, originating in debts due by their
ancestors, were seized in April, 1861, by the widow of the late sultan,
and put in irons until some demands of hers should be satisfied. The
whole city was thrown into confusion by this proceeding; all the
Kadayans assembled under their chiefs, stopped the supplies of food,
and threatened an attack from the neighbouring hills; deputations of
nobles waited on the lady, and begged her to let go the men, but she
sturdily refused. For three days every man was prepared to defend his
portion of the town; business was suspended, and fears and panics
prevailed; till at last her relations gave way to the anger of the rest
of the inhabitants, and insisted upon her letting her prisoners go.
The Kadayans have great influence in the city, on account of their
agricultural pursuits; they supply large amounts of rice, and nearly
all the fruit and vegetables. I have wandered over their districts,
and never have I seen more lovely spots than are to be found at Upper
Butil, Limapas, and in the interior of the Kadayan river. The groves of
fruit-trees are immense, and no idea can be formed of them, unless we
imagine our pear and apple trees of the size of the most gigantic elms.
They are generally planted on the gentle slopes of low hills, and the
cool and well-shaded paths among them are dry and pleasant to tread.
The Kadayans are devoted to the pañgeran tumanggong, and will not, I
believe, consent to any other noble succeeding to the present sultan.
They are not a warlike race, but they are united. In commercial affairs
this may be especially noticed: a meeting of their chiefs takes place,
they settle the price of rice, and none of their followers will swerve
from it.
About a thousand of these men have lately gone over to our little
colony of Labuan, to settle there as planters, and the heavy forest is
falling in all directions before them. Having mentioned this island,
I will make a few remarks upon it. Labuan possesses one of the finest
forests I have seen in Borneo, and is admirably situated for three
objects--to suppress piracy, to influence the neighbouring countries,
and to increase commerce by many means. Among the last, I may mention
the numerous coal seams which are found in the island; that they have
not been yet developed is no matter of surprise to those who are
familiar with the early management; and that they will be hereafter of
the utmost importance is the confident belief of those who are best
acquainted with the island. My own opinion is, that the working will
prove a most lucrative speculation, if proper care be taken in the
choice of those who are to conduct the affairs of the new Labuan coal
company.
No better spot could be chosen as one of the stations for the telegraph
wires on their way’ to China. From Singapore, stated in round numbers,
to Sarawak is 400 miles; to Labuan, 350 miles; to Manilla, 600 miles;
to Hong Kong, 600 miles more. If Manilla be avoided, a station might be
formed on one of the isles off Palawan.
Labuan, managed by an officer who made himself well acquainted with the
character of the people inhabiting the neighbouring countries, might,
with a slight support from the navy, exert great influence. I must
mention one good Labuan has already done: it has changed the character
of slavery. Formerly, the Bornean masters could treat their dependants
as harshly as they pleased; now it is a common saying, “If we are not
gentle towards our slaves, they will run to Labuan.” In fact, latterly
very little restraint was laid on the freest intercourse with this
island on the part of the masters, as far as concerned the males; but
the females they tried by every means to prevent leaving. Yet hundreds
of women visit Labuan, and can stay there if they please.
The trade of our colony is small, though it is increasing, while that
of Brunei is rapidly decreasing, and recent arrangements will tend to
accelerate its fall. I should mention that there are many districts in
the neighbourhood of Labuan in which pepper is cultivated, and this
produce is slowly increasing in quantity in the market; but could the
Governor of Labuan have the means at his disposal to influence the
neighbouring coast, the pepper cultivation would rapidly advance. It is
now grown in the districts of Kalias, Bundu, Tanah Merah, Qualla Lama,
Membakut, Papar, Mengkabong, and Tawaran.
Sago at present is the principal export, though some valuable products,
as white birds’ nests, camphor, wax, rattans, and occasionally pearls
are brought from the north. No place could be better situated than
Labuan to draw to it the trade of the Sulu archipelago and of the
north-east coast of Borneo, and its doing so will depend on the amount
of influence it is permitted to exercise.
It is a curious circumstance, that the natives of many of the districts
to the north of Labuan assert that before civil strife and pirates
drove trade from their coasts, they used to supply the Chinese and
Javanese markets with a large amount of cotton. This plant is still
cultivated, though to a very limited extent.
I have referred to the very fine forest which clothes the surface of
Labuan: among the forest trees are the camphor and the damar; the
former produces the valuable Kapur barus of commerce, and is a very
handsome tree, rising in a fine stem ninety or a hundred feet before it
throws out a branch, and then presents a well-shaped head, with dense
foliage. Its timber is lasting, and is much liked for planks and beams
of houses. In the forests of Labuan I have often come across fine trees
felled by the natives in search of the camphor, as this product can
only be obtained by destroying the tree, as it exists in a concrete
form in the interstices of the trunk. But I have heard natives say,
that occasionally they cut down one which has a decayed portion, and in
this they find the finest camphor. It is possible that these decayed
portions may arise from former seekers cutting holes in the tree to
discover whether there were sufficient camphor to render it worth while
to fell the tree, a practice they carry on to the present day. An oil
is also collected from this tree, which rubbed over a chest of drawers
will effectually prevent the invasion of insects.
This method of obtaining the camphor is very wasteful compared to the
way gamboge is collected. I have never seen an account given of it, so
I will introduce it here:--The tree is found in Kambodia, the province
of Chantibun in Siam, the islands on the eastern coast of the Gulf of
Siam, and the southern part of Cochin China. The small plants which
were brought to Bangkok were woody, with thick ovate leaves; the tree
in full growth is large, measuring often five feet in circumference,
and rising to a considerable height. At the commencement of the rainy
season, the gamboge seekers start for the forest in search of the
trees, which are occasionally plentiful. Having found a full-grown one,
they make a spiral incision in the back round half its circumference,
and place a joint of bamboo to catch the sap, which percolates slowly
from it for many months. When it first issues from the tree, it looks
like a yellowish fluid, which after passing through a viscous state,
hardens into the gamboge of commerce with a crystal-like fracture.
The flowers of the tree are said to resemble those of the egg-plant,
and the fruit is small and globular. The time of gathering it depends
much on the fancy of the people, as some declare that it is injurious
to seek it in wet weather, and prefer the very driest months. The
trees grow both in the valleys and on the mountains, and an average
one will yield three joints of bamboo, twenty inches in length, by
one and a half in diameter. The tree appears to suffer no injury if
the gamboge be collected every other year, but if it be tapped each
season, it shortens its life. Like every other nation, the Kambodians
are fond of adding adulterations, and mix with it rice, flour and sand,
while others pulverise the bark, to add to its weight; but this last
operation is soon found out, as it imparts to the article a greenish
tinge.
The damar trees in Labuan are remarkably fine. I have seen one measured
one hundred and twenty feet to the first branch, and eighteen feet in
circumference above twenty feet from the ground. Labuan is also stocked
with excellent trees for spars. I may add that petroleum is found in
considerable quantities floating on the surface of water in the jungle;
but I think no examination has been made as to the probable yield of
these oil-springs.
Before concluding my observations on Labuan, I may remark it possesses
a very excellent harbour, of easy approach. The great success of our
colony will depend, however, on its yield of coal.
The coal-fields of Borneo are as extensive as the island. It
is reported in Maludu Bay; found in Gaya Island; is everywhere
discoverable on the mainland opposite Labuan; has been traced in
Baram, in Bintulu, through the Sarawak districts to Banjermasin on the
southern coast. They must some day prove of the greatest importance.
Continuing my notice of the capital, I may explain that the whole
direct revenue of the sultan does not exceed 2,500_l._ a year,
except what he may obtain in produce from his dependent tribes, which
scarcely supports the current expenses of his household.
The Brunei government possesses no armed force beyond the power of
calling out the population as militia, who rarely respond to the
call, as they are neither fed nor paid during their time of service,
and are generally required to perform acts repugnant to their real
interests. It possesses neither war boats nor police, and is incapable
of organizing an expedition to attack a neighbouring district, and
is, without exception, one of the most contemptible semblances of
power that ever existed. As I have said before, it has the name of
government, but not the reality.
Crime is unpunished, if committed by a relative or a follower of a
high noble, as no one will act against him for fear of the enmity of
his chief. There is a man in Brunei, named Sirudin Buñgkul, who is the
most notorious thief in the capital. He lives in very good style on
the result of his achievements, and is admitted into the best society.
He is never punished, as he is a follower of the chief minister, the
pañgeran bandhara. He appears to be clever, as he manages to quiet the
dogs, and has never been taken in the act of robbery; in fact, few
would dare to attempt to seize a man naked to the waist, well oiled,
and carrying a drawn kris in his hand. When in want of funds, he makes
a visit to the different shops to inspect; he is always treated with
a kind of familiar deference, and the Chinese are kept in a state of
nervousness till his _coup_ has come off. Petty thefts are common,
but few extensive robberies; and yet it is not difficult to get into
leaf-houses, particularly of the Chinese, who sleep heavily after their
opium and spirits.
It is not surprising that these men occasionally commit crimes when an
example is set by the highest officers of state. Makota, who was in the
habit of getting into debt, and seldom troubling himself about payment,
owed a Chinese trader, Si Panjang, a considerable sum of money. The
constant dunning of this creditor at last produced a quarrel, and the
Chinese used some expressions which Makota considered very insulting;
so next morning he sent the Bindari, one of his officers, to affix a
notice to Si Panjang’s door, giving notice that he was no longer under
the protection of government. Five days after a fire burst out in that
dwelling, which not only consumed the trader’s house, but extended so
as to burn down half the Chinese quarter, and the loss was estimated at
20,000_l._ Though long suspected, the fact was not made clear till
after Makota’s death. The fire took place in July, 1856, two months
before I took up my residence in Brunei.
Thefts and robberies are nominally punished by cutting off the hand,
but this penalty has fallen into disuse since the advent of the
English. There are, however, two men to be seen about the town who
have lost a hand as a punishment. Sometimes a fine is inflicted, but
generally the culprit is let off after a few days in the stocks.
It is an interesting fact, that the sultan and many of the older men
always fix an event by saying this occurred before or after the fall
of ashes, referring to that awful eruption which took place in April,
1815, when the mountain of Timboro in Sambawa burst forth and covered
every country near with a fall of ashes. Sir Stamford Raffles has given
a graphic account of it in his “_History of Java_”, and I only
mention the fact now, as Brunei, where some of the ashes fell, must
be above nine hundred miles from the volcano. At Sarawak it is also
constantly referred to.
I have described in a previous chapter the appearance of the river,
but I have not mentioned that here I have most often heard the singing
or hummingfish, which sticks to the bottom of the boats, and produces
a sound something like that of a Jew’s-harp struck slowly, though
sometimes it increases in loudness so as to resemble the full sound and
tones of an organ. My men have pointed me out a fish about four inches
long as the author of the music. It is marked with alternate stripes of
black and yellow across the back.
They have a curious method of catching prawns in this river: a man
sits in the stern of a canoe, a little on one side, so as to make its
edge towards the bank almost on a level with the water, and but a foot
from the mud. On the same side he has an immense comb fastened at the
stern, which, at an angle, stretches beyond the bows of the canoe, and
sweeps the bank. The prawns congregating at the very edge of the mud,
make a spring to avoid the teeth of the comb; and in doing so, nearly
always fall into the boat. The comb is simply a long bamboo, with holes
drilled into one side, into which are inserted pieces of thin bamboo or
wood about two feet long at the farther end, and gradually lessening as
they approach the fisherman.
I may also mention that the Malays are very fond of the following
sport. They collect many hundred bundles of the roots of the
tuba-plant, and beat them out in their canoes, keeping them wet, and
permitting the juice, which has an intoxicating property, to flow into
the bottom of their boats. When they have sufficient, they throw it
into the water at the mouths of the rivers just at the turn of the
flood-tide; and the fish, feeling its effects, either rise to the
surface completely intoxicated, or, in the case of the large ones,
sufficiently stupefied to be easily speared. It is an exciting sport
when several hundred men in light canoes are engaged in it. It is a
superstition that while they are occupied in this amusement, should
a boat pass the mouth of the river, and the crew beat the water with
their paddles, the tuba would lose its intoxicating power.
Until late years, the general use of money was unknown in the capital.
When I first visited it, ordinary commercial transactions were carried
on in pieces of gray shirting, valued at 12_s._ 6_d._; of
nankin, valued at 10_d._; and of bits of iron, worth about a
farthing: the last were manufactured by cutting off pieces of an inch
long from a bar of English iron, the common size of which was an inch
and a half in breadth by half an inch in thickness. Now, neither the
nankin nor the iron circulates, their places being taken by English
copper coin and China cash. The gray shirting still holds its place,
but its value is fallen, and lately it has ranged from 6_s._ to
8_s._ The Brunei government, to prevent the constant disputes that
arose, made it a legal tender at 6_s._ 8_d._ Mexican dollars
are now becoming plentiful.
One other article is also much used as money, and that is brass guns.
In buying and selling you constantly hear, “I will give so many pounds,
or hundredweights, of gun-metal.”
The Borneans are famous for their manufacture of brass guns, which
are constantly cast in their frail houses to the imminent danger of
the neighbourhood. They principally turn out small wall-pieces, and
now trust much for their metal to selected Chinese brass cash. The
Malays are clever at this work: a Javanese has lately cast an excellent
12-pounder brass howitzer for the Sarawak Government. Sulu used to be
very famous for its krises; now Brunei is attempting to rival her, and
has produced some very handsome weapons. In both places they prefer
the iron that is taken off the bales of English cotton goods, as the
toughest and the best.
The custom my brother Bayle mentions in his _Levantine Family_
of preserving an article for years, rather than lower its price, is
very common in Brunei. Jeludin Hitam, a rich trader, purchased, in his
younger days, a large quantity of camphor, white birds’ nests, and
pearls, and received, in payment of some other goods, several hundred
pieces of gray shirting, at 12_s._ 6_d._ The breaking out of
the Chinese war of 1841 lowered the price of all articles intended for
that market. He tried to sell at former rates, but no one would buy; he
refused to lower his price, so kept the goods till his death in 1859.
On examining them it was found that the gray shirtings were rotten, and
had to be thrown away, while all his other goods were sold for half
their former value. A native always asks a higher price than he intends
to take, as he knows his customer will “tawar,” or cheapen.
I may add that on the death of Jeludin Hitam the sultan declared
himself his heir, and succeeded to all his property, which, however,
did not amount to half that was expected, as it was whispered the
daughter concealed a large amount of the gold. When Makota was slain,
the sultan took possession of his property, but the most active search
failed in finding any gold, though it was well known that he had been
accustomed to invest all his money in moidores. But the fact was,
Makota did not trust his wife, and therefore always carried his wealth
about with him in a box, and after his death it was secreted by one of
his sons who happened to be in the same district at the time his father
was killed.
CHAPTER XI.
SARAWAK AND ITS DEPENDENCIES.
First Visit--Appearance of the Country--Scenery--Lovely
Isles--Turtle--Method of Securing their Eggs--Their
Enemies--Fish--The Dugong--Method of Capturing them--Graves
of Englishmen at Po Point--First Evening in Borneo--A
Welcome to the Rajah--Boats--Salute and Manning
Yards--The Muaratabas Entrance--The River--The Town of
Kuching--Sunset--Arrival--A noisy Procession--Extent of
Sarawak--A well-watered Country--The Rejang--Extent of fertile
Soil adapted to Sugar--Its Inhabitants--Different Races and
Tribes--Population--Kuching, the Capital--Increase--Trade--Sago
districts--Cotton--Seed sent by the Cotton Supply
Association--Imported Labour required--Increased
Production--Inferior Cultivation--Soil adapted to most Tropical
Productions--Water communication--Minerals--Coal, Antimony, and
Gold--Indications of other Minerals--Former Condition of the
Country--Difficulties of Management--Forced Trade--Comfortable
Position of the Dayaks--Influence of New System on the
Malays--Distant Voyages--Remarkable Honesty--Anecdote--System
of Government--An Unteachable Chief--Sons of Patinggi
Ali--Their Good Conduct--Effect of Associating the Natives
in the Government--The System introduced into all the
Dependencies--Effect of Sir James Brooke’s Government--Anecdote
of an old Chief--Gradual Development--Necessity for Support--The
Chinese an Industrious and Saving Nation--Soundness in the
System of Government--England with a Chinese Colony--Future
of Borneo--Chinese amalgamate with Native Population--Female
Emigration from China--Administration of Justice--The Sarawak
Courts--Character of the Malays.
[Illustration:
T. Picken, lith.
Published by Smith, Elder & C^o. 65, Cornhill, London.
Day & Son, Lith^{rs} to the Queen.
GOVERNMENT HOUSE __ SARAWAK 1860.]
Sarawak and its dependencies next claim my attention, and I will
give an account of my first visit to that place, as the notes I then
made are more likely to present a true picture than any written
subsequently. On August 31, 1848, we came in sight of Borneo; it
was a dull and misty day, and the shores were not clearly visible, but
the next morning it was bright and showed us in all its perfection the
lovely country that skirts the shore between Datu and Sipang points.
At first it appeared a confused mass of mountains, but the eye soon
began to distinguish its varied features. The massive and lofty range
of Poé bounded the scene to the westward, while the Matang occupied the
centre of the picture, and the peak of Santubong and the Sipang hills
completed it to the eastward. Between these are many lower ranges, and
beyond could be seen various ridges and single mountains forming a
background.
Though these high lands first attract the eye, yet it rests with
greater pleasure on the beautiful valleys between, and none more
beautiful than that at the foot of the Poé mountains, which stretches
as far as the eye can reach, and imperceptibly mingles with the
neighbouring hills. Taken as a whole, it is a very beautiful bay,
and lovely are the isles scattered about it. Every traveller is
enthusiastic about the appearance of these little gems, which rise
verdant from the water’s edge to the very summit; or rendered more
bright by a narrow beach of shining yellow sand that skirts the shores.
The first two are called Talang Talang, and on these are collected
the turtles’ eggs. From the larger a broad sandy flat extends to the
southward, and on this, during the prevalence of the south-west monsoon
the turtles lay their eggs. There are men on the look-out near, and as
soon as the animals have dug holes, deposited the eggs, and carefully
covered them over, the watchers stick little flags in the sand to
mark the spots. In the morning they open them out and procure immense
supplies of these eggs, which are exported to all the neighbouring
countries. Though the turtles do occasionally frequent the surrounding
isles, it is only here that they are plentiful.
The Malays are eager in the search, yet fortunately very many nests
escape their rapacity. But the dangers to the turtle do not end here:
when the little things burst up from the sand, they find enemies in
every direction. The voracious kites soaring above pounce on their
defenceless prey, even the land crab seizes them and bears them away,
and when the remainder escape to the water, hundreds of sharks and
other voracious fish are there to devour them; it is astonishing that
so many elude their enemies. A turtle’s egg tastes to me like a stale
and fishy duck’s egg. The sandy beaches of these isles are always to
the southward, as they are not exposed to the fierce blasts of the
north-east monsoon. The next islets near the Santubong entrance of the
Sarawak river, are Sampadien and the two Satangs. On all are at present
extensive groves of cocoa-nut trees, which form a marked contrast to
the neighbouring jungle.
It is very curious that the fish should frequent this bay so very
irregularly. Some years the supplies are ample, at other seasons it
scarcely pays to search for them. The dugong, called by the Malays
duyong, is occasionally secured off the small islands in this bay;
there is a famous fisherman in Sarawak, named Pa Sipi, who is expert
in all accomplishments appertaining to his craft, and I have heard the
natives say that when a duyong is seen, he used cautiously to approach
it, and being always the foremost man, he hurled his fishing spear at
it, and very shortly after, if he were obliged to let go his hold of
the weapon, the animal would rise again to the surface. The fishing
spear is called a sarampang, and is usually made with a treble-pronged
iron point, fitted loosely into the end of the spear, and secured by a
stout lashing of rattans to the wood. When the iron has entered into
the animal, it comes loose from the shaft of the spear, which is then
only held to it by the rattan rope, and it would be impossible for an
animal thus encumbered to escape far. Pa Sipi brought us once a very
fine duyong, which measured nearly eight feet in length, and its flesh
tasted very much like coarse beef.
We moved along under easy sail, and anchored near the Muaratabas
entrance of the Sarawak river. The land here is very bold, particularly
Sipang and Po points.
We sent a boat up the Santubong as we passed the entrance, to give
notice at the town of our arrival, and in the evening we landed for
a walk in a deep nook to the westward of Point Po; here, just above
the sandy beach, were the graves of several Englishmen, among others
of Lieutenant Mathews, of H.M.S. _Iris_: a simple granite stone
marked the spot; the wild pigs, however, had desecrated the graves and
overturned the tablet; so the latter was subsequently removed to the
church-yard in Sarawak. We amused ourselves about the edges of the
forest in searching for a good watering-place. To me this evening was
inexpressibly delightful, as I wandered about this quiet pretty spot,
and thought how agreeable an introduction it was to Bornean life. After
dark we waded to our boats, and the crews enlivened the evening by
singing in chorus till we neared the ship. Twenty deep voices sounded
well over this still and starlit sea. For the first time I saw some
Lingga Dayaks to-day, and as they happened to be dressed as Malays, my
first impression was that it would be difficult to distinguish between
them.
About ten o’clock the following morning native war-boats commenced
issuing from the Muaratabas, and sailing towards us. They were the
Sarawak people come to welcome back their English rajah. There were
twenty long light war prahus with tapering masts and lateen sails,
ornamented with flags and streamers, and all the chiefs and crews were
dressed in gala costume. The principal men came on board, and it was
interesting to observe the warmth they showed to their adopted chief.
Some of the Sarawak men were striking-looking, but the nobles from the
capital were the most insignificant creatures I had ever seen; they
were only remarkable for the gold lace with which their jackets were
profusely ornamented, and that they were very gentlemanly, and more
polished in manner than their provincial neighbours.
About one o’clock Sir James Brooke left the _Meander_ under a
salute, and the manning of the yards; the latter has always a very
pretty effect, and rather surprised our native visitors. When the
firing was over, the blue jackets gave three hearty cheers, and
swarmed down the rigging. Now was the turn of the war-boats, and they
kept up a desultory fire for an hour.
The Muaratabas entrance of the Sarawak river is a very fine one, and
has a depth of three fathoms and a half at the very lowest water at
spring tides; the contrast of the banks is striking: to the right a
high bold shore and pretty isolated hills; to the left a low flat plain
with mountains showing in the distance.
We pulled up with the flood tide, our way being enlivened by
races between the native prahus, but the frigate’s barge had no
chance against them; near the entrance is a rock that marks the
watering-place; it was here that Sir James made his first acquaintance
with the Dayak pirates, who attacked a Malay prahu under the very guns
of the _Royalist_.
With few exceptions the banks of the Sarawak river are uninteresting;
for many miles nothing but swampy ground and low jungle of mangrove
trees and nipa palms, with occasional glimpses of distant mountains.
Near the town, however, it improves, the land becoming dry and bearing
heavy jungle; between the mouth and the town there were only a few
fishing huts, and not a sign of cultivation. Evening was closing in
as we approached Kuching, the capital of Sarawak, and the sun set
brilliantly behind the Matang range, gilding as it disappeared as wild
and picturesque a scene as I had ever witnessed. Our barge led the way
up the broad reach, and was followed by the twenty war prahus, and
dozens of Dayak and other boats that had joined the procession:--not a
decorous Lord Mayor’s pull on the river, but in the utmost confusion,
amid gun-firing, gong-beating, racing, wild and frantic yells of
delight, shouts of laughter and of anger, as one prahu ran into another
in their eagerness to be in the foremost rank. As we rounded the last
point we were surprised to find the whole town brilliantly illuminated,
and as all the houses are built on the water’s edge, which reflected
back the lights above, the effect was very fine. Crowds were assembled
to witness our arrival, and yell, and answering yell, increased the
confusion. Having described my first arrival at Sarawak, I will proceed
to give a short account of its present position.
Sarawak, including its dependencies, extends from Cape Datu to Kidorong
Point, a coast line of about three hundred miles, and presents every
variety of surface, from the low fertile soil skirting the river’s
banks to the lofty mountains which rise in every direction throughout
the various districts.
It is one of the best watered countries in the world, possessing
several rivers of the first class, as the Rejang, the Sarawak, and the
Batang Lupar; and many of the second, as the Samarahan, the Sadong, the
Seribas, the Kalaka, the Egan, a branch of the Rejang, and the Bintulu;
rivers of the third class are also numerous, as the Lundu, the Mato,
the Oya, and the Muka.
The last three, though small, are still very important, as they run
through the great sago-producing districts, possessing forests of that
palm, which are as yet perfectly unexplored, having only lately been
ceded to Sarawak.
The finest river, however, is the Rejang, which has a deep entrance,
not less than five fathoms at high water, and, when inside the
bar, never carries less, for above one hundred and thirty miles. A
geographical description of the country, however, is not necessary,
as I have in previous chapters given an account of the principal
districts, nearly all of which I visited in the course of my tours.
Sarawak possesses an immense extent of fertile soil, a very large
amount being composed of alluvial deposit stretching for miles on
either side of the banks of the Samarahan, the Sadong, the Batang
Lupar, and nearly all the rivers before named.
Much of the soil is especially adapted for sugar cultivation, being
of a similar quality to that on the banks of the Pontianak, which I
have been informed by Dutch officers and planters has been found far
superior for sugar cultivation to the best in Java. In fact, nothing
but the want of labour has prevented the extensive cultivation of
the cane in the Pontianak districts: Chinese could be introduced
with facility, but these people have already given the Dutch so much
trouble, as to render the Netherlands government very jealous of any
increase in their numbers.
But before entering on the subject of products, I must briefly
enumerate the various tribes speaking different languages who are now
subject to Sarawak.
The Malays are scattered along the banks of almost every river and
creek, but the largest number is assembled at the capital, Kuching.
The Chinese, of whom I shall treat hereafter, are principally found
in Sarawak, though a few hundreds are now working gold on the Batang
Lupar, and traders abound at every place where profit can be obtained.
The Indian races are represented by very few members.
The Land Dayaks occupy a portion of Lundu, with the entire interior of
Sarawak, Samarahan, and Sadong.
The Sea Dayaks include the Sibuyaus, who are scattered through the
various districts, and the inhabitants of the Batang Lupar, the
Seribas, Kalaka, and the branch streams on the left-hand bank of the
Rejang.
The Milanaus occupy the mouths of the Rejang, the Ova, the Muka, the
Bintulu, and various lesser streams.
The tattooed races, as the Kanowits, Pakatans, Punans, and others, live
towards the interior of the districts lying between the Rejang and the
Bintulu, and border on the Kayans, who occupy the Balui country as the
interior of the Bintulu and the Rejang is called.
All these groups of tribes speak separate languages, and each has also
various dialects.
It is very difficult to obtain even an approximate estimate of the
amount of population, but I will state it at the most moderate rate.
The home districts, as Lundu, Sarawak, Samarahan,
Sadong, and Sibuynu, may be reckoned at 80,000
The Sea Dayak districts, including Batang Lupar, Seribas,
Kalaka, and those on the left bank of the Rejang, at 120,000
The districts lying between Rejang Mouth and Bintulu 40,000
-------
Total 240,000
In stating these numbers I am convinced that I am very much underrating
them, as the more inquiries we make the thicker appears the population
of the Sea Dayak districts.
The capital of Sarawak is Kuching, and, considering the circumstances
of the country, the rise of this free port has been rapid. When Sir
James Brooke first reached the spot, there were few inhabitants except
the Malay rajahs and their followers, who subsequently for the most
part removed to Brunei, the residence of the sultan. I saw Kuching in
the year 1848, when it was but a small place, with few Chinese or Kling
shops, and perhaps not over 6,000 Malay inhabitants; there was little
trade, the native prahus were small, and I saw some few of them. The
jungle surrounded the town and hemmed in the houses, and the Chinese
gardeners had scarcely made an impression on the place. As confidence
was inspired, so the town increased, and now, including the outlying
parishes, its population numbers not less than 15,000.
The commerce of the place has kept pace with it, and from a rare
schooner finding its way over to return with a paltry cargo, the trade
has risen till an examination of the books convinced me that it was in
1860 above 250,000_l._ of exports and imports.
The articles constituting the exports are for the most part the produce
of the jungle; the principal exception is sago, which is imported
from the districts to the east of Cape Sirik, to be manufactured at
Kuching into the sago-pearl and flour of commerce. The trade in this
article has for many years been injured by the constant disturbances,
ending in a state of chronic civil war, which desolated the producing
districts. Now, however, that they have been ceded to Sarawak, and a
firm government established, a great development should take place in
this branch of trade.
An article which might become of great value is cotton: it is
cultivated among many of the tribes residing within the Sarawak
territories, particularly by the Dayaks of Seribas and Sakarang, who
manufacture from it a durable cloth. The Cotton Supply Association is
sending out some Egyptian seed, which, if it arrive in good condition,
may tend to increase the produce. I am convinced, however, that no
cultivation will have great success in Borneo which does not at first
depend on imported labour, and as China is near, the supply could be
easily and regularly obtained.
The amount of rice produced will also greatly depend on imported
labour; at present the natives but rarely export any, and during some
seasons scarcely produce sufficient for the consumption of the people.
There is one thing to be observed, however, that as the country is
becoming year by year more settled, the inhabitants in the same ratio
give greater attention to acquiring wealth. The Sea Dayaks are very
acquisitive, and would soon imitate the Chinese methods of cultivation.
I have elsewhere remarked that the agriculture to the north of
the capital is far superior to anything found in Sarawak or its
neighbourhood, and this has most probably arisen from the large number
of Chinese who formerly inhabited that country.
The use of the plough, the harrow, or the buffalo in cultivation is,
except by report, entirely unknown in Sarawak; the natives will, I
believe, be much surprised at the results produced by a good English
plough, which is about to be tried on some fields of sugar-cane in the
neighbourhood of Kuching, and it may do much good by showing them the
methods employed by other nations. At present the Malays and Dayaks use
no other instruments than a long chopper, an axe, and a pointed stick.
The soil and the varied heights on the hill-sides, would render
Sarawak a fine country for coffee; which grows freely, and so do
pepper, tapioca, arrowroot, and almost every product cultivated in the
neighbouring islands; but these things are not yet grown in sufficient
quantities to render them worth mentioning as articles of export. Of
the jungle produce I may name the principal: they are fine timber of
many varieties, gutta-percha, india-rubber, wax, and rattans, and the
last are to be obtained in the very greatest abundance and of the best
quality in the districts lately ceded by the sultan to the government
of Sarawak.
Sarawak has a very great advantage over many countries, having water
communication from the far interior, down to her coasts, and inner
channels communicating with many of the outlying districts.
The mineral products known to exist in sufficient quantities to be
worth working are not numerous; they are coal, antimony, and gold.
Coal seams have long been known to exist, but in situations that
necessitated a considerable outlay; within the last few months,
however, coal has been discovered close to the water’s edge in the
districts lately ceded, but I have not yet heard of the result of the
examinations which have just been made. Antimony of the best quality
can be procured in sufficient quantities to supply any demand, and a
new mine has been secured to the Sarawak government by the cession of
Bintulu.
Gold is only worked by the Chinese, who wash the surface earth in a way
which I will afterwards describe. No deep sinkings have been attempted,
nor has quartz yet been discovered in large quantities, and it is not
likely to be while nine-tenths of the country are still clothed with
forest.
Indications of many minerals exist, but until found in greater
quantities they are scarcely worth referring to, except to encourage
a careful examination of the mountain and hilly districts. Sufficient
silver has however been found to render it probable that a mine exists
not far from the Bidi antimony works. The Dutch beyond the border
are said to be working a copper mine to great profit; and in Sarawak
indications of that mineral, as well as of lead, have been several
times discovered: but no great importance can be attached to them
at present. Manganese and arsenic have been found in considerable
quantities, but they are not yet worked.
The most remarkable thing connected with Sarawak is the change which
has come over the aborigines; from all the accounts I could gather they
were twenty-five years ago in a much more miserable condition than the
Muruts and Bisayas in the neighbourhood of the capital. The country
was in a state of complete anarchy, and Malays were fighting against
Malays and Dayaks against Dayaks. Even before the civil war broke out
the condition of the latter was miserable in the extreme; they were
exposed to every exaction, their children were taken from them, their
villages attacked and often sacked by the Seribas and Sakarang, and
hunger approaching to famine added to their troubles.
Even when Sir James Brooke succeeded to the government and peace was
restored, it took years to eradicate the belief, founded on long
established practice, that the Dayaks were persons to be plundered by
every means. When it could not be done openly, it was carried on by a
system of forced trade. Sir James Brooke’s attention was constantly
directed to this subject, and he found that as long as the Malay chiefs
were paid their salaries by receiving half the rice-tax, some of them
had an excuse for continuing the old practice. I have mentioned the
tours of inspection undertaken under his direction by his nephew,
Captain Brooke; shortly after these were concluded a new system was
introduced, and the chiefs had their salaries paid to them in money.
Since which time few complaints have been made by the Dayaks.
As far as material comfort adds to the happiness of man, the Dayaks
have reason to be thankful: whatever they earn, they enjoy; a tax
of four shillings on every family is the amount levied on them by
government: after that is paid they are free from every exaction. Not
only have they the produce of their industry, but the wealth derived
from their forests of fruit-trees, a market for which can always be
found among the Chinese and Malays. Many of the caves likewise produce
the edible bird’s nest, which is another source of profit.
The Malays, however, have benefited equally with the Dayaks by the
change of system. Formerly the chiefs employed a crowd of relations and
followers to collect their taxes and to oppress the aborigines; and,
as at Brunei now, if the master asked for a bushel of rice, the man
demanded two more for himself. The system had a debasing influence on
all; no doubt many suffered a little by the change, but as a rule all
these men turned to legitimate trade, as soon as they found that to
oppress the Dayaks entailed fines and punishments.
The impetus given was great, trading prahus were built, and voyages
undertaken which their fathers had not thought of. Singapore, Java,
the Malay Peninsula, and even a portion of Sumatra were visited. This
brought wealth and increased activity, which was shown in the improved
dwellings, the larger prahus, the gayer dresses, and the amount of gold
ornaments that became common among their women.
There is one thing I must particularly mention, the remarkable honesty
shown by these traders in all their intercourse with Europeans. An
Englishman, who greatly facilitated their commercial transactions by
loans of money at a rate of interest which in the East was considered
remarkably moderate, told me that, in all his experience, he had
only found one Malay who attempted to cheat him. He never demanded
receipts, but simply made an entry in his book, and his loans with that
one exception were all repaid him.
He told me a story of a Malay trader that singularly illustrates their
character. The man borrowed a small sum and went on a voyage; in a
month he returned, stating he had lost both prahu and cargo, and asked
to be entrusted with double the amount of his former debt; it was
given him. Again he returned, having been wrecked close to the mouth
of the river. He came to this Englishman and clearly explained his
misfortune, but added--“You know I am an honest man, disasters cannot
always happen to me, lend me sufficient to go on another voyage, and I
will repay all I owe you.” My informant said he hesitated, but at last
lent him the whole amount demanded. The trader was away three months,
and his smiling face, when he came back to his creditor, showed he had
been successful; he paid off the principal portion of the debt, and
afterwards cleared off the remainder, and was, when I heard the story,
one of the most flourishing traders in Sarawak. I thought the anecdote
was honourable to both, and illustrates the kindly feeling that exists
in that country between the European and native.
This confidence, however, was the growth of some years, and the result
of the system of government which I will now describe. In treating of
the capital, I have shown the practice established there. In all the
former dependencies of Brunei there were local chiefs who administered
the internal affairs of their own districts. In Sarawak there were
originally three, and that number Sir James Brooke continued in
their employment, and permitted and encouraged them to take part in
everything connected with the government of the country, obtaining
their consent to the imposition of any new tax or change in the system
of levying the old, consulting them on all occasions and allowing their
local knowledge to guide him in those things with which they were
necessarily better acquainted than he could possibly be.
It was not to be expected that his teaching and influence should
suddenly change these men, accustomed to almost uncontrolled sway,
into just and beneficent rulers, and he failed in moulding the datu
patiñggi, the principal chief. As long as Sir James Brooke was himself
present in Sarawak, he could keep him tolerably straight; but no amount
of liberality could prevent him oppressing the Dayaks on every possible
occasion. His rapacity increasing, he took bribes in his administration
of justice, and it was at last found necessary to remove him. The third
chief behaved much better, and the second, patiñggi Ali, was killed
during one of Captain Keppel’s expeditions.
The last named left many sons, two of whom would have adorned any
situation in life; the eldest, the late bandhar of Sarawak, was a kind,
just, and good man, respected in his public capacity, and beloved in
all social intercourse: his only fault was, a certain want of decision,
partly caused by a rapid consumption that carried him off about two
years since. His next brother succeeded him, and appears to have all
his brother’s good qualities, with remarkable firmness of character.
In fact, a generation is springing up, with new ideas and more
enlarged views, who appear to appreciate the working of their present
government, and have a pride in being connected with it.
By associating these men in the administration, and thus educating
them in political life, and by setting the example of a great equality
in social intercourse, Sir James Brooke laid the foundation of a
government which stood a shock that many of his best friends expected
would prove fatal. I mean the Chinese insurrection. None of the
predicted results have followed. Trade and revenue have both actually
increased, and a much better system of management has been introduced.
The example set in the capital is followed in all the dependent
districts, and the local rulers are always associated with the European
in the government. The effect has been to prevent any jealousy arising;
and the contempt of all natives, which appears a part of our creed
in many portions of our empire, is not felt in Sarawak. Nothing
appears more striking to those who have resided long in Sarawak than
the extraordinary change which appears to have been effected in the
character of the people, and also in that of individuals. There is no
doubt that Sir James Brooke was working in soil naturally good, or
these results could not have taken place, but yet when we know the
previous history of men, how lawless and savage they were, and yet
find they have conducted themselves in an exemplary manner for twenty
years, the whole circumstances appear surprising.
I will tell an anecdote of one of the very oldest of the chiefs, to
show the apparently stubborn materials which had to be moulded. The
man relating the story himself, said that about thirty-five years
ago he was cruising near Datu Point when he observed a small trading
boat passing out at sea. He immediately gave chase, and when near her
noticed the crew were all armed, and preparing to defend themselves,
so his own followers advised him to sheer off, but he made them push
alongside, and springing on board the trading prahu with a drawn kris
so effectually alarmed the hostile crew that they all ran below. There
were six of them, but he killed them all, and added, one only did he
pity, as in their distress five called on their mothers, but one only
begged mercy of God. And yet that man has behaved well for the last
twenty-five years, and much better, in my opinion, than many others of
far greater pretensions. It never appears to strike him that he had
committed a bloodthirsty and wicked action, perhaps he considered that
to conceal his piratical act any means were justifiable; but however
that may be, he has completely changed his conduct, has been faithful
under great temptations, and has always proved himself a brave and
trustworthy man since a regular government has been established in
Sarawak.
Few would have undertaken the responsibility of ruling a country
with such materials, but to render the task easier, there were some
excellent men to leven the multitude, and a retired pirate is
generally a good servant, if you can turn the energies that led him to
a roving life into a legitimate channel.
It is obvious, however, that where a government depends for its
stability on the individual character of its officers, and where a
change in the system may be introduced by the head of the government
not following in the footsteps of his predecessors, men will not risk
their capital in the development of the country.
I have watched the gradual development of Sarawak with the greatest
interest; I have seen districts once devoted to anarchy restored
to prosperity and peace by the simple support of the orderly part
of the population by a government acting with justice, and it is
not surprising that all its neighbours appeal to it, when their own
countrymen are seen to exercise so great an influence in its councils.
The experiment so happily begun might be carried on with great results,
had the Sarawak government more material force to back it. At present
nine-tenths of the country are forest; I believe the largest portion of
that may be cultivated with great success, but population is wanting.
There is but one people who can develope the islands of the Eastern
Archipelago, and they are the Chinese.
They are a most industrious and saving nation, and yet liberal in their
households, and free in their personal expenses. They are the only
people to support an European government, as they are the only Asiatics
who will pay a good revenue. In Sarawak there are not above 3,000
Chinese, and yet they pay in indirect taxes more than the quarter of a
million of Malays and Dayaks pay altogether. There is room within the
Sarawak territories for half a million of Chinese cultivators, without
in any way inconveniencing the other inhabitants; and these Chinese
could pay without feeling the pressure 2_l._ a head in indirect
taxes: as those levied on opium, spirits, tobacco, and other articles.
There must be soundness in the system pursued in Sarawak, or it could
not have stood alone for so many years, exposed as it has been to
successive storms. A similar, or a modified system, supported by our
national power, would produce great results. No one can judge of the
consuming power of the Chinese abroad, by the Chinese in their own
country. Abroad he clothes himself in English cloth, he uses English
iron; he sometimes takes to our crockery; he when well off drinks our
beer, and is especially partial to our biscuits. He does nothing in a
niggardly spirit, but, as I have said, is liberal in his household.
I believe if England were to try the experiment of a Chinese colony,
where they had room to devote themselves to agriculture, to mining,
and to commerce, the effects would be as great in proportion as those
displayed in our Australian colonies. The Indian Isles are not far
distant from China, and emigrants from them are always ready to leave
on the slightest temptation.
I have lived so many years in the Archipelago that I hope my
information may be found correct. I certainly expect much from the
future of Borneo, if the present experiment should be aided or
adopted, as it possesses the elements of wealth and prosperity, and
can obtain what is essential to success, a numerous and industrious
population.
The Chinese have no difficulty in amalgamating with the native
inhabitants, and to a certain extent can always obtain wives, as
Borneo, like England, appears to possess a redundant female population.
The men are, of course, exposed to many more dangers than the women,
and these latter are so fond of their own homes that they seldom remove
far from their parents. But now there appears to be no difficulty in
procuring female emigrants, and if the present rebellion continue
to desolate China we might remove all the inhabitants of a village
together. I have heard men say that they have seen as much misery in
some of the provinces of that vast empire as they saw in Ireland during
the famine, and when that is the case, there will be no difficulty in
inducing these people to emigrate. A calculation has been made that,
if Borneo were well cultivated, it would suffice for the support of a
hundred millions of Chinese.
The administration of justice is a subject of vital importance in all
countries, but especially so in an Asiatic and a mixed population. The
simple forms adopted in Sarawak are admirably suited to the country,
and the care displayed in inquiries has won the confidence of the
people. There are three courts established in Sarawak: a general
court, a police court, and a native religious court. The last has
charge of all cases in which a reference is required to the laws of
the Koran, as in marriages and divorces; an appeal lies, however, in
certain cases to the general court. Ten years ago the native judges
gave no satisfaction to the people and inspired no confidence, as it
was known the principal chief took bribes, but since his removal, it
is rare indeed to hear of a decision giving dissatisfaction, as both
the late bandhar and his brother, the present bandhar, really take a
pride in their court, and look into the cases. They also regularly
attend the general court, and have thus been educated by the example
set by the English magistrates of the most patient investigation. The
general court takes cognizance of all the principal cases both civil
and criminal, and in serious trials there is a kind of jury of the
principal English and native inhabitants.
Cheap, and above all, speedy justice is what is required in the East,
where they never can understand our wearisome forms. It reminds me
of the Malay tried for murder in one of our English courts; he was
asked the question, Guilty or Not guilty, and answered immediately,
Guilty. He was advised to withdraw it and plead not guilty, but he
steadily refused, saying, “Why should I plead not guilty, when I know I
committed the murder; when you all know that as well as I, and mean to
hang me, so don’t make a long fuss about it.” They very often confess
even the most heinous crimes. The police court has cognizance of the
same cases as would come before similar courts elsewhere, with a little
mixture of the county court.
The Malays, except the followers of the Brunei nobles, are found on the
whole to be very truthful, faithful to their relatives, and devotedly
attached to their children. Remarkably free from crimes, and when they
commit them it is generally from jealousy. Brave when well led, they
inspire confidence in their commanders; highly sensitive to dishonour,
and tenacious as to the conduct of their countrymen towards them,
and remarkably polite in their manners, they render agreeable all
intercourse with them. Malays are generally accused of great idleness;
in one sense they deserve it; they do not like continuous work, but
they do enough to support themselves and families in comfort, and real
poverty is unknown among them. No relative is abandoned because he is
poor, or because an injury or an illness may have incapacitated him for
work. I like the Malays, although I must allow that I became weary of
having only them with whom to associate.
Sarawak appears to the natives of the western coast of Borneo what an
oasis must be to the wandering Arab, and it is often visited by the
people of the neighbouring countries to examine as a sort of curiosity.
A party of Bugau Dayaks from the upper Kapuas once arrived in Kuching
after fifteen days’ journey, merely to discover whether or not it
were true that the Dayaks of Sarawak were living in comfort; but a
more curious incident was the arrival of a chief from the Natunas to
lay his case before the Sarawak government. A near relative of the
Sultan of Linggin had yearly visited that group, which was subject to
his authority, under the pretence of collecting taxes, but instead of
confining himself to that, commenced a system of gross extortion. The
natives submitted patiently, but not content with that, he seized
their young girls, and when his passions were satisfied, sent them
again ashore, and forbad them to marry, under the pretence that they
must consider themselves in future as his concubines.
At last he proceeded so far as, during a chiefs absence, to take up
his residence in his house and to seize on his wife and family. On
the orang kaya’s return, he was received with shots from his own
batteries. His wife, evading the watch kept on her, rejoined him;
but after vainly endeavouring to recover the rest of his family, he
brought his complaints to Sarawak. As the Sultan of Linggin was under
the suzerainty of the Dutch, it was impossible to interfere actively
in their defence; but as there was no doubt of the truth of these
representations, as they merely confirmed the accounts which had been
previously received from the officers of one of our vessels which
had surveyed that group, the whole case was laid before the Dutch
authorities at Rhio, with an apology for the apparent interference in
their affairs; but although naturally disposed to think that there was
much exaggeration in the native accounts, they acted promptly, sent a
vessel of war to the Natunas, whose captain fully confirmed the report
forwarded, and giving the young noble an order to restore all his
plunder, and come on board within an hour, they set sail with him to
one of the fortresses to the eastward, where he remained several years.
This energetic action had a most beneficial effect, and, although many
years have passed since, I have not heard of any complaints from the
inhabitants of that very lovely group.
The relatives of the Sultan of Linggin acted in the same way as the
Bornean nobles, who really appear to be convinced that they have a
right to treat the poorer natives as they please, and do not understand
any other method, but Makota’s cruel nature delighted in it for its
sake. He used to say, “I know that the system of government pursued
in Sarawak is the right system, and that in the end we should obtain
much more from them by treating them kindly; but I have been accustomed
all my life to oppress them, and it affords me unmixed satisfaction
to get even their cooking-pots from them;” and he chuckled over the
remembrance.
As the Malays increase in wealth, they are gradually taking more to
the fashion of making pilgrimages to Mecca, though the sufferings
they undergo in the crowded ships are almost equal to those endured
in the middle passage. Some of the Arab ships are so crammed, that
each pilgrim is only allowed sufficient space for a small mat on the
deck, and there he remains during the whole voyage, except when he
cooks his meals. One year, of the twelve who started from Sarawak on
the pilgrimage, but five returned, though now it is not so fatal, as
our authorities in the east are preventing the over-crowding of those
vessels which leave our ports.
They have a custom in Sarawak which is rather curious: to insure good
hair to their girls, they throw gold dust on it, and then send the
child out among the crowd, who with scissors endeavour to snip out the
precious metal.
It has often been noticed that the Malay language is very concise, and
as a proof, I have heard the following anecdote related. I have not
yet seen it in print, though it may be. An English judge was condemning
a man to death for a barbarous murder, and earnestly dwelling on
the dreadful nature of the crime, he lengthened his discourse to
twenty minutes. Then turning to the court interpreter he told him to
translate what he had said into Malay. The official looked sternly at
the prisoner, and addressed him thus: “The judge says you are a very
wicked man; you have committed a great crime, therefore you must be
hung. Sudah (I have done),” and then quietly retired to his place, to
the astonishment of the judge, who could not comprehend how his learned
and affecting discourse had been so briefly translated; he could only
ejaculate, “Certainly the Malay is the most epigrammatic language.”
As I am concluding this chapter with miscellaneous remarks, I will
tell a short anecdote told me by a Spaniard of a Balignini pirate.
After the expedition from Manilla, in 1848, had captured the islands
of Tonquil and Balignini, they removed most of the prisoners to an
island to the north; among others, there was the wife and children of
a well known buccaneer, who had been absent on a cruise during the
attack, and returning home, found his house burnt and his family gone.
He immediately went to Samboañgan and surrendered to the authorities,
saying he was tired of the wandering life he had led, and was anxious
to live as a quiet agriculturist with his wife. The governor trusting
his story, sent him to the north, where he joined his family, and set
to work with great energy cultivating the soil; the authorities kept
a strict watch over him, knowing his enterprising character, but
just before the rice harvest was ready to be gathered, they became
less vigilant, as they thought no one would abandon the result of a
year’s labour; but at dead of night, with a few companions to whom he
had imparted his secret, he fled with his family to the shore, where,
surprising a boat, he pulled off to his old haunts and reached them in
safety.
I have already treated of the Land and Sea Dayaks, and will not dwell
further on the subject, but give a short account of the Chinese on the
North-west coast of Borneo.
CHAPTER XII.
THE CHINESE IN BORNEO.
Intercourse between China and the Northern Part of
Borneo--References to the Chinese--Names of Places and
Rivers--Sites of Gardens and Houses--One of the original
Settlers--The Sultan’s Recollections--Chinese numerous in
his Youth--Reasons for their Disappearing--Anecdote of a
Murut Chief--Aborigines speaking Chinese--Mixed Breed--Good
Husbands--Chinese at Batang Parak--At Madihit--Pepper
Planters--Origin of the Borneans--Chinese Features observed
also among the Aborigines--Careful Agriculture--A remnant of
Chinese Teaching--Traditions of a Chinese Kingdom--Effect of
Treaty with Brunei--Unsuccessful attempt to revive Pepper
Planting--Chinese scattering on the North-west Coast--A Spark
of Enlightenment--Attempt to prevent Intercourse between
the Chinese and Aborigines--Decay of Junk Trade--Cochin
Chinese--Conduct of the Chinese--Papar--Anecdote--Fatal
Result of Insulting a Woman--Skirmish--Misrepresented
in Labuan--Question of British Protection to the
Chinese--Their Insolence--Anecdote--Unpleasant Position--A
Check--Difficulty of obtaining Information--Cause
of former Disputes--Insurrection of the Chinese of
Brunei--Sarawak--Early efforts of the Chinese to establish
themselves there--Lawless Malays--A Murder--Retaliation--Defeat
of the Chinese--Arrival of Sir James Brooke--Mixed Breed
in Sambas--Form Self-governing Communities--Defeat of the
Dutch Forces--Subjugation of the Chinese--The Pamangkat
Agriculturists--Flight into Sarawak--Change in the appearance
of the Country--Mission School--Visit the Interior--Kunsis,
or Gold Companies--Appearance of the Country--Method of
Gold-working--The Reservoir--The Ditch--The Sluice--Wasteful
method of working--Abundance of Gold--Impetus--Failure of
first Agricultural Schemes--A great Flood--Troublesome
Gold-workers--Successful Scheme--Disturbance in Sambas--Flight
of Chinese--Illiberal Regulation--Tour through the Chinese
Settlements--Agriculture--Siniawan--Chinese workings--Hot
Spring--Gold at Piat in Quartz--Antimony Works--Extensive
Reservoirs--Arrival of Chinese from Sambas--Denial by the
Kunsi--Hard Work at the Gold Diggings--Scenery--Path to
Sambas--Chinese Station--Numbers of the Chinese before the
Insurrection.
The first thing that strikes an inquirer into the intercourse which
was formerly carried on between China and the northern part of Borneo,
is the prevalence of names referring to these strangers. They are
called in Malay, Orang China; by the Land Dayaks of Sarawak, Orang
Sina; and by the Borneans, Orang Kina, men of China; and north of the
capital, we find Kina Benua, the Chinese land, in Labuan; Kina Balu,
the Chinese widow, the name of the great mountain; Kina Batañgan, the
Chinese river, on the north-east coast; and we have Kina Taki, the
name of a stream at the foot of Kina Balu and Kina Bañgun, a name
of a small river of the north north eastern coast. Around Brunei we
continually come across terraces cut on the sides of the hills, where
the pepper-plant was grown, particularly on the eminence below the
Consulate: and the places where the Chinese had levelled the ground on
which to build their houses are often to be met with; one of the most
distinct was in my own garden. Their graves are also numerous, and may
easily be traced on the slopes of the hills, though time has worn down
their edges, and left but a slightly swelling mound.
My object is not to write a history of the Chinese intercourse with
Borneo, but to notice what impress it has left on the manners and
thoughts of the people, and what remembrances of them may still be
gathered. At present there are scarcely any of the original settlers
left. I only remember one very old man, who cultivated a garden a few
miles above the town; and although he had lived there for sixty years,
arriving as a child, he had not mastered the language of the country,
and could only say that in old days the Chinese were numerous.
The reigning sultan used often to converse on the subject, and told
me that his own father was the nobleman appointed to superintend the
Chinese; and that about fifty years ago they were very numerous to
the westward of the town, and that when he was a youth, he was fond
of strolling in their pepper and vegetable gardens. He did not know
“how many there were, but there were many.” He accounted for their
almost total disappearance by saying that for the last sixty or seventy
years they had received no recruits from China, and that the Chinese
gardeners near the town seldom had wives, but those up the country and
in the neighbouring districts lived among the Murut and Bisaya tribes,
and that their descendants had mixed with the native population and
adopted their dress and habits.
An occurrence which took place whilst I was in Brunei tended to confirm
this. A Chinese pedlar, married to a Murut girl, came to me one day to
complain of the conduct of a Bornean nobleman who had been oppressing
the aborigines. I sent him with the Malay writer attached to the
Consulate to explain his case to the sultan, as I could not interfere
myself.
The following week the chief of the Murut tribe arrived to support the
complaint, and went with the pedlar into the shop of the principal
Chinese trader in Brunei, baba Masu, who began questioning him
in Malay. The man answered in a stupid manner, as if he scarcely
understood him, upon which the baba turned to the pedlar and said
in Hokien Chinese, “What is the use of your bringing such a fool
to support your case?” The chief’s face brightened directly, and
he observed, in good Chinese, “I am not such a fool, but I don’t
understand Malay well.” The trader, very much surprised to be thus
addressed in his own language by a Murut, made particular inquiries,
and found that this was the grandson of an immigrant from Amoy, who
had settled among the aborigines, and had taught his children his own
language, and his eldest son marrying the daughter of an orang kaya,
their son had succeeded to the chieftainship of the tribe.
Subsequently, I questioned some of the Chinese pedlars who were
accustomed to trade in the districts on the coast to the north of the
capital, which are known by the general name of Saba, and they found
there were many of the Bisayas and Muruts of Kalias, Padas, Membakut,
and Patatan, who could speak Chinese very fairly, and who acknowledged
their mixed descent from the Chinese and the aborigines. Wherever the
former settle, they always seek wives among the people, though few
comparatively have the good fortune to procure them. However, when they
do, the women soon become reconciled to them as husbands, and find a
manifest improvement in their condition, as the Chinese do not like
to see their wives do more than the real domestic work of the house,
performing all the more laborious duties themselves, even to cooking
the dinner.
My friend, the orang kaya of the village of Blimbing, on the Limbang,
said he remembered the Chinese living at a place called Batang Parak,
about eighty miles from the mouth of the river. He himself could only
call to mind seven who were cultivating pepper-plantations in his time,
but his father had told him that before the insurrection the whole
country was covered with their gardens. Of this insurrection, I could
obtain few particulars, though they pointed out a hill at the mouth of
the Madalam where the Chinese had built a fort, but had been defeated
by the Bornean forces.
A hundred and fifty miles up the Limbang, on the banks of the Madihit
branch, and beyond all the worst rapids, the Muruts told us the
Chinese formerly had very extensive pepper-plantations; but within
the remembrance of their oldest men, they had all died away, no new
recruits joining them, and their descendants were lost among the
surrounding tribes.
There is but one objection to the theory that the Borneans derive their
origin in great part from the former Chinese settlers: it is that they
are even darker than the other Malays; otherwise, the squareness and
heaviness of feature, particularly observable among the lower classes,
would seem to mark them as descendants of the labouring Chinese who
form the bulk of the emigrants from China, though I have often
observed that many of the children of the undoubtedly mixed breed were
very dark. I have noticed in my account of our first expedition to Kina
Balu the fact of the young girls at the village of Ginambur having
the front of their heads shaved after the manner of the Chinese. I do
not remember having seen any female of the other tribes of aborigines
disfigured in the same way. When we were at the village of Kiau, at the
base of Kina Balu, we continually remarked faces which showed distinct
indications of being descended from the celestials.
I have before noticed the superior style in which the natives to the
north of Brunei carry on their agricultural operations. I find my
description of the method pursued by the Bisayas of Tanah Merah in
cultivating pepper exactly agrees with that of the Chinese mentioned by
Forrest in his account of Borneo Proper. And the natives of Tawaran and
Tampasuk cultivate their rice as carefully as the Chinese, following
their example of dividing the fields by low embankments, so as to be
able to regulate the supply of water; and in no other part of Borneo
are to be found gardens as neat as those we saw on the plain of
Tawaran. It is evident they have not yet forgotten the lessons taught
to their forefathers by the Chinese, though their improved agriculture
appears to be almost the only impress left on the people. Instead of
their following the more civilized race, the latter appear to have
completely blended with and become lost among the numerous population
around.
The tradition is still well known among the natives, of the whole
country being filled with those immigrants; and they say that in very
ancient days there was an empire ruled by one of the strangers, and
the Sulus have still the tradition current among them that in former
days these islands formed a part of a great Chinese kingdom, whose seat
of government was in the north of Borneo. Forrest having mentioned
that the Sulus in his day had such a tradition, drew my attention to
it, and it may refer to the time subsequent to the invasion of the
country by Kublai Khan’s general. The following is an extract from
the genealogy of the sovereigns of Borneo, which is in the possession
of the pañgeran tumanggong:--“He who first reigned in Brunei, and
introduced the religion of Islam, was his Highness the Sultan Mahomed,
and his Highness had one female child by his wife the sister of the
Chinese rajah, whom he brought from Kina Batañgan (Chinese river), and
this princess was married to Sherif Ali, who came from the country of
Taib, and who afterwards governed under the name of his Highness Sultan
Barkat (the Blessed), and it was he who erected the mosque, and whose
Chinese subjects built the Kota Batu, or stone fort.” This appears to
refer to some kind of a Chinese kingdom.
In 1846 there was scarcely a Chinese left in the capital; but no
sooner was our treaty made in 1847, than traders from Singapore
began to open shops there. At first, it appeared as if a valuable
commercial intercourse were about to commence, as it was supposed the
Chinese, as of old, would soon begin to form pepper-plantations, and
the expectation was partly fulfilled. A rich shopkeeper obtained
permission from the sultan, and a grant of land having been made,
he set to work to form a garden. He planted fruits, vegetables,
and pepper, the last grew luxuriantly, though the soil appeared
unpromising; but no sooner was it known to be yielding, than crowds
of idlers from the capital flocked there, and soon stripped it of
everything eatable. In despair, he gave up his project, and no one has
had the courage to try again; in fact, it would be useless as long as
the present system of government holds.
Since our colony of Labuan was established in 1848, a few Chinese
have left it to spread along the coast. As yet they have had little
effect, since most of them have married into native families, and done
little else than carry on a petty trade, or manufacture arrack. Lately,
however, a few have commenced pepper-gardens, but the districts are
too unsettled to promise much, yet it is a movement to be encouraged.
When I have asked the Chinese why they did not emigrate there, the
invariable answer has been, “Will you afford us protection? if not,
as soon as our plantations are productive, the nobles will force the
produce from us.”
The sultan, in a moment of enlightenment, determined to encourage
planters, and actually sent for a dozen from Singapore, paid their
expenses to Brunei, and promised a monthly allowance till the produce
of their vegetable-gardens enabled the Chinese to support themselves.
These regular payments, however, soon became very distasteful to him,
and every month be gave them less, till at last from want of food they
all dispersed, and the experiment has not been tried again.
The Brunei government makes every effort to prevent the Chinese mixing
with the aborigines, as it tends to destroy the monopoly of trade they
seek to establish, and they fear also the teaching of the Chinese,
who would never counsel submission to oppressive rulers, though when
employed by the nobles as agents, they can be more systematically
grinding than the Malays.
It is evident that the intercourse between Borneo and China, which
undoubtedly was once very active, has been decreasing for above a
hundred years, and the cause was doubtless the anarchy into which the
country fell and the consequent want of protection. Fifty years ago,
the junk trade appears entirely to have ceased; and even in 1775 it had
been reduced to about seven a year, although they continued to build
vessels at Brunei.
With regard to the accounts of old travellers, that the north of
Borneo was formerly peopled from Cochin China, I have heard nothing to
support the theory, beyond the tradition that in ancient days a great
trade was carried on between Annam and the north-west coast, when many
Cochin Chinese settled in Borneo. In fact, in the Champa country, in
the southern portion of the Kambodian peninsula, there is a people
whose language contains a considerable number of Malay words; so that
the effect on these two countries may have been mutual, though Champa,
doubtless, was more influenced by settlers from the Malay peninsula.
I have before alluded to the Chinese wandering from our colony of
Labuan to settle in small numbers in the districts on the coast to
the north of that island. A favourite place was Papar, as the Dusuns
there were wealthy, and, being numerous, cared little for their nominal
ruler, pañgeran Omar; and among the Chinese settlers were two men, who
lived in a small house on the banks of the river. One day, early in the
year 1859, the wife of the chief of a neighbouring village was passing
that way, when one of these men attempted to pull off her petticoat,
which constituted her only covering. Her screams bringing some friends
to the spot, the man let her go and ran into his house. In the evening,
the chief came to demand satisfaction for this very gross insult, but
said, as the offender was a stranger, and perhaps did not know the
customs of the country, he should only fine him the value of a goat.
The two Chinese ordered him to leave their house, and, to enforce it,
took up their carrying-sticks, with which the one who had insulted
the woman struck him. The Dusun chief, who had his spear in his hand,
stabbed the offender and wounded his companion, who came up to join in
the attack. This affair caused great commotion in the district, and all
the Chinese clamoured for vengeance.
Pañgeran Omar inquired into the case, fined the Dusun, and ordered
the amount to be paid over to the dead man’s friends. They were
not, however, satisfied with the amount of the fine, and determined
to revenge themselves. Collecting a body of about twenty of their
countrymen, on the pretence of a pig hunt, they marched to attack the
chief’s village; upon which the Dusuns, beating the alarm gong, soon
apprised their neighbours that they were in danger; and the Chinese,
as usual, arrogant when there was no opposition, but cowards in
circumstances of peril, immediately on finding their first volley did
not frighten their enemies, fled with precipitation, and were pursued
by the Dusuns, and the larger portion of them killed.
The case was misrepresented in Labuan, and some demands were made for
satisfaction; but it was evident the Chinese had brought this disaster
on themselves; and I know of no worse policy than to consider all
those, whether British subjects or not, who leave our colony to settle
on the coast as entitled to our protection. If we can be of service
to them, it is as well to use our influence to insure them the best
treatment, but we should never let the Chinese imagine we intend to
give them the protection of the British flag on all occasions. Yet it
is a subject which requires delicate handling, for, if we entirely
abandoned their interests, they would be plundered and massacred;
and without them there will never be any progress on the coast, or
developement of trade and agriculture on a large scale; and if we claim
them as British subjects, which a few are in reality, their insolence
to the natives is often unbearable.
I have generally found that those Chinese who come direct from their
own country are better adapted to succeed with the native chiefs
than those who have resided long in our own settlements, where they
acquired an independence almost amounting to lawlessness. I once
nearly lost my life through the reckless conduct of one of these
Singapore Chinese, who had been accustomed to treat the Malays there
with great contumely. When he arrived in Brunei, he did the same
thing with a crazy man belonging to the Pablat section of the town,
and the Chinese quarter was thrown into confusion. I sent both men to
the sultan, but in the meantime the report spread among the Malay’s
relatives that the Chinese had ill used him, and 150 men immediately
came down, shouting that they would run amuck among the Chinese. A
respectable Bornean trader came hastily into my room, saying, if I
did not immediately go down to the scene, there would be a massacre.
I caught up my sword and hurried to the Chinese village, to find the
Pablat men in the act of assaulting the strangers; and had one wound
been given, there would have been no stopping the mischief.
I need not dwell on all the particulars, but it was with the greatest
difficulty I turned the Malays back from their purpose. To me they
behaved with great civility, after the first excitement was over; but
the glare their chief gave me, when I put the hilt of my sword to his
breast to prevent him using his spear on an unfortunate Chinese trader,
who had nothing to do with the quarrel, was a very savage one. His hand
in a moment sought his kris; but on my saying, in a very quiet tone,
“Don’t draw your kris on me,” he dropped his intention at once, and
although his followers drew their weapons and urged him to the attack,
he began to explain to me the reason of his coming with that force at
his back. I knew if I could check the rush for five minutes, things
would be safe, as by that time some friends, who were staying at the
house, would be down with all my armed followers; and so it proved.
But the insolence of the Chinese was effectually checked by this
demonstration, and I had no further trouble with them, as they thought
I might not always be there to stand between them and death.
This is but a meagre account of the results of that extensive Chinese
intercourse with the northern portion of Borneo, which was carried on
for so many hundred years; but in a country so uncivilized there are no
antiquities; and although the tradition exists among the people that
formerly numerous immigrants arrived and settled, still they can relate
few facts concerning them. There can be little doubt, judging from the
character of the two people, that the nobles would endeavour to squeeze
out of the foreign planters as much as possible; that they would fine
them heavily for very slight faults, till they would drive the Chinese
to resistance, and insurrections would as surely follow among a people
who always unite against other races. They are no match for the Malays
and Dayaks in wild warfare; and it is only their organization which
enables them to offer any resistance to the desultory attacks of their
enemies.
It has been said that in the great insurrection of the Chinese the
Muruts joined them, and that the Borneans were compelled to seek the
assistance of the Sulus to repress it, but I did not hear any mention
of the latter statement, and it appears improbable. Internal dissention
is the more likely cause of the failure of the attempt to throw off
the yoke of the Malays, the Muruts being bribed to leave their allies.
At all events, the Bisaya tribes were engaged in its suppression, as
the grandfather of the orang kaya of Blimbing assisted in taking the
fort at the entrance of the Madalam river. The Chinese insurgents,
driven from the lower country, attempted to make a stand on a rounded
hill there, but lost their fort, either by a panic or by treachery, my
informant did not appear certain which.
Between Brunei and Sarawak the Chinese do not appear to have
established themselves; but to the latter country the gold-workers of
Sambas occasionally sent parties of men to try the soil, as auriferous
ore was reported to be plentiful. But during the distractions
consequent on the civil war, they found it impossible to pursue their
peaceful industry, and those who were successful in obtaining gold were
exposed to the attacks of lawless Malays.
One man, who is now a very respected member of society, a haji of
mark, who has for the last twenty years conducted himself in the most
exemplary manner, was once tempted to commit a crime by the report that
a party of Chinese was returning to Sambas with sixty ounces of gold.
He and a few of his relations waylaid the travellers, and, surprising
them in the dark forest, murdered them and obtained the treasure.
This naturally aroused the anger of their countrymen, and an expedition
was fitted out at Sambas to revenge the deed. They marched into
the Sarawak territory, and advanced nearly as far as the town of
Siniawan, then occupied by Malays, but found a strong stockade built
across the path. The Chinese numbered about seven hundred men, while
their opponents were at first scarcely twenty, but protected by their
position and numerous guns. Confident in their numbers, the assailants
rushed to the attack, almost reaching the foot of the defences,
but receiving a severe fire from the guns in position, loaded with
nails, bits of old iron and shot, they were beaten back. The Malays
acknowledge the Chinese kept up the attacks all day; but, after their
first repulse, they principally confined themselves to a distant fire,
though they occasionally made attempts to turn the position, but were
repulsed by the ever-increasing numbers of the Malays.
Towards evening the Chinese withdrew to the banks of the river, and
made preparations to pass the night; while the Malays, who had been
reinforced by many of their friends, determined to try the effect of
a surprise. They were commanded by the gallant patinggi Ali, whose
exploits and death are recorded in the _Voyage of the Dido_; and
just at sunset they started in their light boats with a gun in each,
and pulled with an almost silent stroke towards the Chinese encampment,
where they found their enemies cooking rice, smoking opium, or shouting
or talking, in fact, making so great a noise as to prevent the
possibility of hearing the sound of paddles, cautiously pulled.
When all were ready, patinggi Ali gave the signal to fire, and the next
moment they yelled and sprang ashore. The startled Chinese fled, and
were pursued relentlessly by the Dayaks, who had come down from the
hills to share in the struggle. It is said half the invading force was
destroyed, and that the old, dried skulls I had noticed in the Dayak
villages were the trophies of the fight.
Being thus exposed to every kind of ill-treatment, it is not surprising
that the Chinese did not care to settle in the country; but, after
Sir James Brooke was established in Sarawak, they began to increase
in numbers, though always inclined to be troublesome. When I arrived,
in the year 1848, it was considered there were about six hundred
living there, mostly engaged in gold-working, and even these were much
inclined to have an _imperium in imperio_, though too weak to
carry out their views. They had formed themselves into an association
called the Santei Kiu kunsi, or company.
I must notice that these Chinese are not the pure emigrants from China,
but the half-breeds, descendants of the early settlers, who obtained
Malay and Dayak wives, and are more warlike in their habits than the
pure Chinese, and many have much of the activity of the aborigines.
Settled in Sambas before the arrival of the Europeans in those seas,
they gradually formed self-governing communities among the weak Malay
States around, and by intermarriage with the women of the Dayak tribes
in their neighbourhood, formed both political and social alliances with
them.
It was not to be expected that this state of things could long exist
without serious disputes arising with the Malay chiefs; however, they
generally managed to prevent a total estrangement; but when backed by
the Dutch officials, the Sultan of Sambas endeavoured to coerce them
into submission, the Chinese gold-working communities refused to obey,
attacked the small force sent against them, captured the forts, and
drove the Dutch troops to their steamers, and left in their possession
little more than the town of Sambas. This, of course, roused the
officials, and a strong expedition was sent from Java, which within
a year subdued the refractory Chinese, who, in fact, submitted with
very little opposition. But during their success they managed to give
Sarawak a considerable lift.
At the mouth of the Sambas river there is a place called Pamañgkat,
where several thousand Chinese agriculturists were engaged in raising
fine crops of rice. These men had not joined their countrymen in their
resistance to the Sambas Government, and were therefore marked out for
punishment during their brief success. In their alarm, the Pamañgkat
Chinese fled to Sarawak, arriving in great numbers during the year
1850, whilst I was absent with Sir James Brooke on his mission to Siam;
some came by sea, others fled overland to Lundu and to the interior.
I found on my return in October, after nearly a year’s absence, that a
great change had taken place in the appearance of the town of Kuching:
dozens of fresh houses were built and building, while the surrounding
forest was falling rapidly before the axes of the fugitives. Many of
them had arrived destitute of all property, and I learnt that three
hundred and ten families were entirely supported by the food and money
furnished by the Sarawak government, besides hundreds of others having
received presents of tools and temporary assistance. It was calculated
at the time that about three thousand had arrived, many of whom
immediately joined the gold-workers in the interior. We found also that
the mission school had received a great addition in the form of about
twenty remarkably intelligent-looking little boys and girls, whose
destitute parents had gladly handed them over to the care of the clergy.
Sir James Brooke, hearing that there was much confusion in the
interior, from the numerous freshly-arrived Chinese, and from the
Dayaks being alarmed by this sudden influx into their neighbourhood,
started with a party to visit it. We soon reached Siniawan, the little
Chinese trading town I have previously described, which was but now
advancing to importance. We continued our course up the river to
Tundong, where there is a ghàt used by the gold-working company to land
their supplies. Nearly all the gold that is worked in Borneo is done by
kunsis, or companies, which sometimes numbered several thousand men;
in fact, they say that at Montrado nearly the whole of its Chinese
population and that of the neighbourhood, estimated at 50,000 men,
were included in one kunsi. Generally, however, they consisted, as
at Sarawak, of a few hundred members, though they might still be in
connexion with the parent company. The great influx of Chinese had now,
however, swelled the Santei Kiu kunsi to inconvenient dimensions.
At Tundong we found a few store-houses and a very tolerable path
leading over to Bau, the principal Chinese settlement. The views
on either side of us, as we advanced, were sometimes exceedingly
picturesque; for, as we reached the summits of low hills, a fine
undulating country was spread out beneath us. The path led through
shady forests, then open Dayak clearings, along the sides of hills, and
over pretty streams spanned by very primitive bridges.
As we approached the town of Bau we met a band of Chinese musicians
who had come forth to greet us, and gun after gun was discharged in
honour of the rajah’s visit. Our procession was a very motley one, half
a dozen Englishmen, followed by a long line of Malays, Chinese, and
Dayaks, marching in Indian procession, some carrying spears, others
muskets, or flags.
At last we reached the kunsi’s house, prettily situated in the valley
of Bau, which was on two sides flanked by black-looking perpendicular
hills. The house itself was a substantial one, built of ironwood posts
and good planks, and roofed with excellent ironwood shingles.
I will describe one of their gold-workings. They dammed up the end
of the valley at the back of the kunsi’s house, thus forming a large
reservoir of water, perhaps a quarter of a mile in length. The dam was
very neatly constructed, being completely faced with wood towards the
water, and partially on the outside, to enable it to resist the very
heavy rains which fall in this country. A ditch, about four feet broad,
was cut from the reservoir towards the ground which the overlooker of
the company had selected as a spot likely to produce a good yield of
gold, and a well-made sluice-gate was constructed in the dam to supply
the ditch with as much water as might be required; minor sluice-gates
to the main ditch enabled the smaller ones also to receive supplies of
water. When this was all prepared, the sluice-gates were opened, and
the earth in its neighbourhood thrown into the ditch, and the rushing
water carried off the mud and sand and allowed the particles of gold
to sink to the bottom. After three or four months they cleaned out the
ditch and carefully washed the residue, which generally yielded them
sufficient to make a tolerable division among the workmen after all the
expenses had been paid.
It is a very wasteful system of working gold; in fact, when we were
there, all the women and girls, lately arrived from Sambas, had the
privilege given them of washing the earth which had been swept away by
the rushing water, and I believe they obtained as much in proportion to
the number working as was divided among the men, who had had all the
labour of constructing these extensive works. No one has yet taught
them deep sinking; in fact, it is to be regretted that none of their
countrymen accustomed to the method of procuring this precious metal in
our Australian colonies have yet visited Sarawak.
That there is an abundance of gold to be found there I verily believe,
and, as an instance, I may notice that in November, 1848, a great
landslip took place, and the face of the Trian mountain was laid bare.
Some Malays, observing small pieces of gold mixed with the clay, began
a strict search, and having great success, the news soon spread, and
several thousand people flocked to the spot, where they worked till
the heap of earth and stone was cleared away. All had fair success, and
we heard of none who got less than an ounce and a half per month. The
work lasted above six weeks. I saw one nugget picked up, which weighed
about seven ounces.
The influx of the Pamangkat Chinese gave great impetus to the search
for the auriferous ore, and new reservoirs, dams, and ditches, were
appearing in every direction; but yet the new-comers, being only
accustomed to agriculture, did not take very kindly to gold digging.
Sir James Brooke was anxious to remove a large body to some district
which they could cultivate; but they were too poor to be able to
support themselves while waiting for their crops. The gold company
was not willing to part with these people, and promised them every
assistance if they would stay at Bau.
Nearly all the early efforts to assist these immigrants in developing
the agricultural resources of the country had but little success. They
commenced rice farms at Si Jinkat on the Muaratabas, and also at the
foot of the Santubong hill; but though they were supplied with food
and tools by the Sarawak government, they abandoned both attempts, and
scattered themselves either among the gold-workers in the interior, or
removed to the district of Lundu, where, as I have already mentioned,
they made beautiful gardens. It was a matter of regret that they should
have abandoned Santubong, as the soil is of a very fine description. I
believe the non-success, however, arose from defective management and
inefficient superintendence.
Everything appeared to go on very quietly till January 1852, when a
fortnight’s continued rain rather injured their reservoirs, and laid
the country under water. Such a flood, they say, never before or since
came upon them. At Kuching it was necessary in the Chinese town to move
from house to house in boats. At Siniawan it rose to so great a height
that the inhabitants had to abandon their houses, and an unfortunate
Chinese, seeking safety in his garret, was drowned, being unable to
force his way through the roof; and up the country we saw afterwards
the dried grass left by the stream at least forty feet above the usual
level of the river.
In 1853, the gold company gave the government considerable trouble,
and had to be curbed by a great display of armed force; but they
submitted without any necessity of proceeding to extremities. The case
was this: the government had issued an order to the company that they
should not make any fresh reservoirs or gold-workings among the Dayak
lands without obtaining permission from the authorities, as on several
occasions quarrels had arisen between them and the neighbouring tribes,
on account of their taking possession of the best farming ground in the
country.
The Pamangkat Chinese were never quite satisfied with their position as
gold-workers, and constantly made applications to the government for
assistance in order to recommence their old style of living as rice
cultivators. At last they fixed on a good spot, and food and rice were
supplied to several hundreds. This well-managed movement might have
been increased to any extent, as all the late immigrants preferred a
quiet rural life; and by the commencement of 1856 nearly five hundred
were established at a place called Sungei Tañgah, about six miles above
the town.
I may observe that during the four previous years the Dutch had kept
the Chinese within the boundary of their settlements in very strict
order; but, in 1856, some dispute taking place, a Dutch officer and a
party of troops were cut off by the workmen of the Lumar kunsi, one of
the large gold companies, about three hundred of whom escaped over the
borders into the Sarawak territories, while the rest were captured, and
many suffered condign punishment for their crime.
I will notice here a regulation which obtains in the Dutch territories
of Sambas and the other border states, which is so illiberal that
I can scarcely believe it to be authorized by any of the superior
authorities, but must be the work of a very narrow-minded local
official. No Chinese, whether man, woman, or child, can leave the Dutch
territories without first paying a fine of 6_l._; so that as
very few workmen can save that amount they are practically condemned
to remain there all their lives, unless they can evade the blockade
kept upon them, thus running the risk of the cat-o’nine-tails, a fine,
and imprisonment. The reason for this regulation is that no Chinese
in Borneo would willingly remain under Dutch rule who could possibly
escape from it; and if liberty were given to them to leave the country,
nearly every man would abandon it. Therefore, gunboats watch the coast,
and on the frontiers soldiers, Malays, and Dayaks, are ordered to stop
any Chinese who may attempt to escape from the Dutch territories.
In the spring of 1856, I made a tour through the Chinese settlements
established in Sarawak, commencing with the rice plantations and
vegetable gardens established at Sungei Tañgah. I have never seen in
Borneo anything more pleasing to my eye than the extensive cultivated
fields which spread out around the scattered Chinese houses, each
closely surrounded by beds of esculent plants growing in a most
luxuriant manner.
Every day appeared to be adding to the area of cultivation; because,
as the agriculturists became more wealthy, they invited the poorer
gold-workers to join them, and were thus enabled to employ many
labourers. Already the effect of this increase of produce was
perceptible on prices, so that vegetables, fowls, and ducks, were
beginning to be bought at reasonable rates. On the other side, the
right-hand bank of the river, near the little mount of Stapok, about
forty Chinese had commenced gardens without any assistance from
Government, and appeared to be very prosperous. To this spot a road
had been cut through the forest from the town, which afterwards became
memorable in Sarawak annals. Altogether, as I have before observed,
there were about five hundred people assembled here engaged in a war
against the jungle.
Continuing our course towards the interior, we met with no Chinese
houses until we reached the village of Siniawan, at that time governed
by the guns of the little fort of Biledah, admirably situated on a high
point jutting into the river, and on the same spot where the Sarawak
Malays during the civil wars had their strongest stockade. The town
was remarkably flourishing, and we here heard a confirmation of the
reports that a great many Chinese were arriving from Sambas. As we were
anxious to be thoroughly acquainted with the actual condition of the
gold-working population, we determined to walk across from Siniawan to
the head-quarters of the gold company at Bau. The paths were in very
good condition, quite suited for riding over, except when we reached
the bridges thrown across the deep gullies which intersect the country.
From Siniawan all the way to Bau, a distance of ten miles, there was
a constant succession of reservoirs and gold-workings; and judging
from the new houses springing up in every direction, we felt sure the
population was increasing. About a third of the way along the road, a
branch path led to a place called by the Chinese “Shaksan,” where there
was an excellent hot spring, over which Mr. Ruppell had built a little
house. We diverged to this spot to indulge in the unusual sensation
of a hot bath, and found the temperature of the water so warm that it
was almost unbearable; but for any one suffering from rheumatism it
would be excellent. We noticed in the neighbourhood many limestone
rocks water-worn into fantastic shapes, exactly similar to those I
subsequently observed near the base of the mountain of Molu.
There are near the main path some large reservoirs in which very fine
fish are found, and the road being led along the banks, or over the
broad dams, it was very picturesque, particularly near the limestone
hills of Piat, where we found a large party of Malays seeking gold in
the quartz which lines the crevices and the caves of these hills. A
very pretty specimen was shown us with the particles of gold sparkling
as if imbedded in crystal.
As it was my companion’s duty to inspect all the stations, we diverged
to the right to visit the antimony mines of Busu. We found there
upwards of fifty Chinese apparently working at the rock on the steep
face of a hill, burrowing here and there in the limestone. The rocks
were very much like those of the mountain of Molu, and climbing over
their sharp surface into little out-of-the-way corners, we found two or
three Chinese scattered here and there, picking out lumps of antimony
from the crevices of the limestone, or perfectly imbedded in it, and
requiring much labour to procure.
These are not really mines--no vein is found, but merely lumps of ore
scattered in every direction.
Just at the foot of the hill in the forest we came upon two Malays who
had just discovered a lump of antimony weighing several tons which
was but a few feet below the surface, and having cleared away the
superincumbent earth, were now covering it over with dry wood, in order
to split the metal, by first raising the temperature by fire, and then
suddenly reducing it by water.
Near Bau the reservoirs increased in number and extent, while the
population became more numerous, and as at each Chinese house there
were several ferocious dogs kept, it was necessary to be perpetually on
one’s guard. The town of Bau was much more extensive than I could have
supposed; I counted above one hundred shops, and there were many houses
besides.
Our attention was particularly drawn to one long, enclosed shed, filled
with Chinese, who evidently, from their appearance and conduct, were
strangers. On arriving at the gold company’s house, we made inquiries
respecting these late arrivals, and the principal people positively
denied any had reached Bau, which was evidently untrue. These kunsis
are regular republics, governed by officers selected by the multitude:
a common workman may suddenly be elevated to be their leader. They
generally choose well, and look chiefly to the business character of
the man put up for their selection.
Though, perhaps, gold-working pays on the whole more than other labour,
the men are kept so very hard at work that the ranks are not easily
filled; yet they are allowed five meals a day, with as much rice as
they can eat, a good supply of salt fish and pork, and tea always
ready. At their meals the Chinese are very fond of drinking their weak
arrack, or samshu, raw, but as nearly approaching a boiling state as
the lips can endure.
Our tour then led us to the neighbourhood of the antimony mines of
Bidi, where the Bornean company are at present working that metal with
success.
The country here is very picturesque: fine open valleys bordered by
almost perpendicular limestone hills, and with an admirable soil.
Occasionally the whole length of a precipice is undermined, forming
extensive open caves, with huge stalactites hanging down at the
extreme edge, giving a beautiful yet fantastic appearance to these
natural dwellings.
We spent a night at a village of the Sau Dayaks, whose long dwelling
was built on a steep hill on the banks of the Sarawak river; and
from thence on nearly to the borders of the Sarawak territory, was
an admirable path constructed by the Chinese to facilitate their
intercourse with Sambas, but unfortunately for travellers, they had not
completed it to Bau.
A four hours’ walk brought us to the last Chinese station, which was
evidently more intended as a resting place for wayfarers than because
its inhabitants were actually much engaged in gold-working there. We
ascended the hills to the village of the Gombang Dayaks, and heard that
a continual stream of small parties of Chinese was constantly passing
within sight of their village. So there was little doubt that the
Chinese population was increasing.
From all the inquiries we made as to the numbers engaged directly and
indirectly in gold-working, we considered there were nearly three
thousand living between the town of Siniawan and the border. There
were about five hundred agriculturists in Suñgei Tuñgah and its
neighbourhood, and perhaps eight hundred in the town of Kuching, the
sago manufactories, and the surrounding gardens; but these were soon
after recruited by the three hundred fugitives from Sambas, to whom
I have before referred; so that the Chinese population of Sarawak
amounted to above four thousand five hundred before they rose in
insurrection, and while seeking to overthrow the government, ruined
themselves.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE CHINESE INSURRECTION.
Secret Societies--Extensive Intercourse--Smuggling--The
Gold Company fined--Punishment of three of its
Members--Arrogance of the Kunsi--A Police Case--Real Causes
of the Insurrection--An Emissary from the Tien Ti Secret
Society--Reported Encouragement given by the Sultan of
Sambas--Sambas Nobles speak Chinese--Their Nurses--The Nobles
conspiring--An Emissary arrives in Brunei--Proposal--Knowledge
of the intended Insurrection--Proposed Attack on the
Consulate--The Tumanggong’s Threat--The Emissary before the
Court--Letter from the Tien Ti Hué--Rumours of intended
Insurrection--Preparations and Inquiries--Commencement
of the Revolt--Useless Warnings--Surprise of the
Government House--Danger of the Rajah--Cowardice of
the Chinese--Escape--Swims the River--Death of Mr.
Nicholets--Attacks on the other Houses--On the Stockade--Gallant
Conduct of Mr. Crymble and the Malay Fortmen--Warm Reception
of the Rebels--Death of a Madman--A Brave Corporal--Escape
of Mr. Crymble--His last Blow--Fortmen again behave
well--Confusion in the Town--Peaceful Assurances--Attempt
to organize a Defence--Panic-stricken--Departure--Conduct
of the People--Next Morning--Killed and Wounded--The
Chinese in Power--The Court House--A Check to Joy--Oath
of Fidelity--Courage shown by Abang Fatah--A Blow
struck--Second Descent of the Chinese--A Boat Action--Gallant
Attack--Deaths--Anecdote--The Second Retreat--The Town in
Flames--The Steamer--The Capital recovered--Pursuit of
the Chinese--They retire to the Interior--Attacks of the
Land Dayaks--Foray of the Chinese--Their Fort taken by
the Datu Bandhar--Pursuit--Disorderly Retreat--Critical
Position--Brave Girls--Pass the Frontier--The Men of the
Kunsi--A Quarrel--Stripped of Plunder--Results of the
Insurrection--Forces at the Disposal of the Sarawak
Government--Conduct of the People--Disastrous to the
Chinese--New System--Arrival of armed Chinese from Sambas--Dutch
and English Assistance--Revisit Sarawak--Change--Conduct
of the Rajah--Its Effect on the People--Secret Society
at Labuan--Dangers from the Secret Societies and their
Defenders--Curious Incident--Thoughtful Care of the Rajah.
I shall endeavour to tell the story of the Chinese insurrection which
suddenly broke out in Sarawak in the year 1857, as it appears to me to
be fraught with instruction to us, and if carefully studied, may be of
infinite service to those who have to govern colonies where the Chinese
form a considerable portion of the population.
For many years the Chinese had attempted to form secret societies in
Sarawak; but every effort was made to check their spread among the
people, and it appeared as if success had attended that policy. To a
considerable extent it was the case: but up in the interior, among
the gold workers, the kunsi or company stood in the place of a secret
society, and its members carried on an extensive intercourse with their
fellow-countrymen in Sambas and Pontianak, and with the Tien Ti secret
society in Singapore. I have described in the last chapter a tour
which Mr. Fox and I made among the settlements of the Chinese in the
interior of Sarawak, during which we became convinced that smuggling
was carried on to a great extent, for, however numerous might be the
new immigrants, the opium revenue did not increase.
At last it was discovered that opium was sent from Singapore to the
Natuna islands, and from thence smuggled into Sarawak and the Dutch
territories; it was traced to the kunsi, which was thereupon fined
150_l._: a very trifling amount, considering the thousands they
had gained by defrauding the revenue, and measures were immediately
taken to suppress the traffic, which, together with the punishment of
three of its members for a gross assault on another Chinese, were the
only grounds of complaint they had against the Sarawak government.
To show their arrogance, I will enter into the details of this case.
A Chinese woman ran away from her husband, a member of the kunsi,
who followed her to Kuching, and obtained an order from the police
magistrate that she should return with him, but on her refusal, she was
ordered to remain within the stockade. As the case was peculiar, she
was not confined to a cell, but suffered to move about in the inner
court; and some of her friends supplying her with men’s clothes, she
managed to slip out unperceived by the sentry, and obtained a passage
on board a Chinese boat bound for one of the villages on the coast. Her
husband hearing of the place to which she had removed, followed her
with a strong party of the members of the kunsi, and recovered her. Not
satisfied with this, they seized all the boatmen, and flogged them in
the most unmerciful manner, and then placed them in irons. When let go,
they of course brought their complaint before the police magistrate,
and three of the party were punished for taking the law into their own
hands.
These trivial cases were not the real cause of the insurrection, as
the Chinese before that date were greatly excited by the news that the
English had retired from before Canton; and it was of course added, we
had been utterly defeated, and their preparations were made before the
smuggling was discovered, or the members of their company punished. The
secret societies were everywhere in great excitement, and the Tien Ti
sent an emissary over from Malacca and Singapore, to excite the gold
workers to rebellion, and used the subtle, but false argument, that
not only were the English crushed before Canton, but that the British
Government were so discontented with Sir James Brooke, that they would
not interfere if the kunsi only destroyed him and his officers, and did
not meddle with the other Europeans, or obstruct the trade.
It is also currently reported that the Sambas sultan and his nobles
offered every encouragement to the undertaking, and the Chinese
listened much to their advice, as these nobles can speak to them in
their own language, and are imbued greatly with Chinese ideas. To
explain this state of things, I may mention that they are always
nursed by girls chosen from among the healthiest of the daughters of
the gold workers; and I may add, that about that time there was a very
active intercourse carried on between the Malay nobles of Sambas and
Makota, and that the latter was constantly closeted with an emissary
of the Tien Ti Hué, or secret society, to whom I am about to refer. It
behoves the Dutch authorities to look well to the proceedings of the
native governments within their own territories, as there is very great
discontent, and there is not the slightest doubt that the nobles are
conspiring.
To show that it is not a mere imagination that the Tien Ti secret
society sent emissaries around at that time, I may state that on the
14th of February, four days before the insurrection, a Chinese named
Achang, who had arrived in Brunei from Singapore a few days previously,
and had the year before been expelled from Sarawak for joining that
Hué, came to my house to try and induce my four Chinese servants to
enter it; and added as a sufficient reason that the kunsi of Sarawak
would by that time have killed all the white men in that country. He
also said that he was very successful in enlisting members among the
sago washers and other labourers in the capital, and that they had made
up their minds to attack my house, and destroy me within a few weeks,
and if my servants did not join the society they would share my fate.
I did not believe what was said about Sarawak, and any warning of mine
would not have reached there for a month, but I did not altogether
neglect this information, which was secretly given me by my butler, a
Chinese, who had lived several years in England, and whose death by
cholera in 1859 I much regretted; but sent to the sultan and ministers
intimation of what I had heard, and the stern remark of the tumanggong,
that if such an attack were made, not a Chinese should, by the
following night, be left alive in the whole country, effectually curbed
them. This Achang, though a very quarrelsome fellow, had soon a case
of just complaint against a British subject, which he brought before
my court; when it was over, I asked him how he would have obtained
a settlement of his claims, if his intention to murder me had been
carried out. I never saw a man’s countenance change more, and thinking
he was about to fall on the ground, and to clasp my knees, either to
beg for pardon, or, what is more probable, to entreat that I would not
believe the story, I told my writer to lead him out of the court.
At Bau the letter from the Tien Ti Hué was shown to nakodah Jeludin by
the writers of the kunsi, whilst he was detained a prisoner there, and
this was not invented by him as a startling incident, but mentioned
casually in the course of conversation; this Malay afterwards died
fighting bravely in the last charge to break the ranks of the Chinese.
During the month of November, 1856, rumours were abroad that the
Chinese gold company intended to surprise the stockades, which
constituted the only defences of the town of Kuching, and which, as no
enemy was suspected to exist in the country, were seldom guarded by
above four men each; but Mr. Crookshank, who was then administering
the government, took the precaution to man them with an efficient
garrison, as it was said that during one of their periodical religious
feasts, several hundred men were to collect quietly, and make a rush
for the defences which contained the arsenal. On Sir James Brooke’s
return, however, strict inquiries were instituted, but nothing could
be discovered to implicate the gold company in a plot, and it appeared
unlikely they would attempt it during the absence of the ruler who
could have so soon revenged it.
On the 18th of February, the chiefs of the gold company assembled
about 600 of their workmen at Bau, and placing all the available
weapons in their hands, marched them down to their chief landing-place
at Tundong, where a squadron of their large cargo boats was assembled.
It is generally reported that, until they actually began to descend
the stream, none but the heads of the movement knew the object, the
men having been informed that they were to attack a Dayak village in
Sambas, where some of their countrymen had lately been killed.
During their slow passage down the river, a Malay who was accustomed to
trade with them, overtook them in a canoe, and actually induced them
to permit him to pass, under the plea that his wife and children lived
at a place called Batu Kawa, eight miles above the town, and would
be frightened if they heard so many men passing, and he not there to
reassure them; he pulled down as fast as he could till he reached the
town of Kuching, and going straight to his relative, a Malay trader of
the name of Gapur, who was a trustworthy and brave man, told him the
story, but he said, “Don’t go and tell the chiefs or the rajah such a
tissue of absurdities;” yet he went himself over to the bandhar and
informed him; but the datu’s answer was, “The rajah is unwell, we have
heard similar reports for the last twenty years; don’t go and bother
him about it; I will tell him what your relative says in the morning.”
This great security was caused by the universal belief that the Chinese
could not commit so great a folly as to attempt to seize the government
of the country, as they did not number above 4,000, while, at that
time, the Malays and Dayaks, within the Sarawak territories, amounted
to 200,000.
But at midnight the squadron of Chinese boats pulled silently through
the town, and dividing into two bodies, the smaller number entered
Suñgei Bedil, the little stream above the government house, while
the larger continued its course to the landing-place of the fort,
to endeavour to surprise the houses of Mr. Crookshank, the police
magistrate, and Mr. Middleton, the constable, while a large party was
told off to attack the stockades. The government house was situated
on a little grassy hill, surrounded by small, but pretty cottages, in
which visitors were lodged. The Chinese landing on the banks of the
stream just above a house in which I used to reside, marched to the
attack in a body of about a hundred, and passing by an upper cottage,
made an assault on the front and back of the long government house, the
sole inhabitants of which were the rajah and a European servant. They
did not surround the house, as their trembling hearts made them fear
to separate into small bodies, because the opinion was rife among them
that the rajah was a man brave, active, skilled in the use of weapons,
and not to be overcome except by means of numbers.
Roused from his slumbers by the unusual sounds of shouts and yells at
midnight, the rajah looked out of the venetian windows, and immediately
conjectured what had occurred: several times he raised his revolver to
fire in among them, but convinced that alone he could not defend the
house, he determined to effect his escape. He supposed that men engaged
in so desperate an affair would naturally take every precaution to
insure its success, and concluded that bodies of the insurgents were
silently watching the ends of the house; so summoning his servant, he
led the way down to a bath-room, which communicated with the lawn,
and telling him to open the door quickly, and then follow closely,
the rajah sprang forth with sword drawn, and pistol cocked, but found
the coast clear. Had there been twenty Chinese there, he would have
passed through them, as his quickness and practical skill in the use of
weapons are not, I believe, to be surpassed. Reaching the banks of the
stream above his house, he found the Chinese boats there, but diving
under the bows of one, he reached the opposite shore unperceived, and
as he was then suffering from an attack of fever and ague, fell utterly
exhausted, and lay for some time on the muddy bank, till slightly
recovering he was enabled to reach the government writer’s house.
An amiable and promising young officer, Mr. Nicholets, who had but
just arrived from an out-station on a visit, and lodged in the upper
cottage, was startled by the sound of the attack, and rushing forth to
reach the chief house, was slain by the Chinese; while Mr. Steel, who
was there likewise on a visit, and Sir James’s servant, escaped to the
jungle.
The other attacks took place nearly simultaneously, Mr. and Mrs.
Crookshank rushing forth, on hearing this midnight alarm, were cut
down, the latter left for dead, the former severely wounded. The
constable’s house was attacked, but he and his wife escaped, while
their two children and an English lodger were killed by the insurgents.
The forts, however, were not surprised; the Chinese, waiting for the
signal of attack on the houses, were perceived by the sentinel, and he
immediately aroused Mr. Crymble, who resided in the stockade, which
contained the arsenal and the prison. He endeavoured to make some
preparations for defence, although he had but four Malays with him. He
had scarcely time, however, to load a six-pounder field-piece, and get
his own rifle ready, before the Chinese, with loud shouts, rushed to
the assault. They were led by a man bearing in either hand a flaming
torch. Mr. Crymble waited till they were within forty yards; he then
fired and killed the man, who, by the light he bore, made himself
conspicuous, and before the crowd recovered from the confusion in which
they were thrown by the fall of their leader, discharged among them the
six-pounder loaded with grape, which made the assailants retire behind
the neighbouring houses or hide in the outer ditches. But with four men
little could be done, and some of the rebels having quietly crossed the
inner ditch, commenced removing the planks which constituted the only
defence. To add to the difficulty, they threw over into the inner court
little iron tripods, with flaming torches attached, which rendered it
as light as day, while all around was shrouded in darkness.
To increase the number of defenders, Mr. Crymble released two Malay
prisoners, one a madman, who had killed his wife, the other a debtor.
The latter quickly disappeared, while the former, regardless of the
shot flying around, stood to the post assigned him, opposite a plank
which the Chinese were trying to remove; he had orders to fire his
carbine at the first person who appeared, and when, the plank giving
way, a man attempted to force his body through, he pulled the trigger
without lowering the muzzle of his carbine and sent the ball through
his own brains. Mr. Crymble now found it useless to prolong the
struggle, as one of his four men was killed, and another, a brave
Malay corporal, was shot down at his side. The wounded man begged
Mr. Crymble to fly and leave him there, but asked him to shake hands
with him first, and tell him whether he had not done his duty; but
the Englishman seized him by the arm and attempted to drag him up the
stairs leading to the dwelling-house over the gate, but the Chinese
had already gained the court-yard, and pursuing drove their spears
through the wounded man, and Mr. Crymble was forced to let go his
hold, and with a brave follower, Duud, swung himself down into the
ditch below. Some of the rebels seeing their attempted escape, tried
to stop Mr. Crymble, and a man stabbed at him, but only glanced his
thick frieze coat, and received in return a cut across the face from
the Englishman’s cutlass, which, if he be still alive, will be a
remembrance to carry to the grave.
The other stockade, though it had but a corporal’s watch of three
Malays, did not surrender, until finding that every other place was in
the hands of the Chinese, the brave defenders opened the gates, and
charging the crowd of rebels, sword in hand, made their escape, though
they were all severely wounded in the attempt.
The confusion which reigned throughout the rest of the town may be
imagined, as startled by the shouts and yells of the Chinese the
inhabitants rushed to the doors and windows, and beheld night turned
into day by the bright flames that rose in three directions, where the
extensive European houses were burning at the same time.
It was at first very naturally thought that the Chinese contemplated a
general massacre of the Europeans, but messengers were soon despatched
to them by the kunsi, to say that nothing was further from their
intention than to interfere with those who were unconnected with the
Government.
The rajah had as soon as possible proceeded to the datu bandhar’s
house, and being quickly joined by his English officers, endeavoured
to organize a force to surprise the victorious Chinese, but it was
impossible; no sooner did he collect a few men, than their wives and
children surrounded them, and refused to be left, and being without
proper arms or ammunition, it was but a panic-stricken mob; so he
instantly took his determination, with that decision which has been
the foundation of his success, and giving up the idea of an immediate
attack, advised the removal of the women and children to the left-hand
bank of the river, where they would be safe from a land attack of the
Chinese, who could now make their way along the right-hand bank by a
road at the back of the town.
This removal was accomplished by the morning, when the party of English
under the rajah walked over to the little river of Siol, which falls
into the Santubong branch of the Sarawak, where obtaining canoes,
they started for the Samarahan river, intending to proceed to the
Batang Lupar to organize an expedition from the well-supplied forts
there. At the mouth of the Siol, the rajah found the war boat of abang
Buyong with sixty men waiting for him, which was soon joined by six
others, though smaller; as no sooner did the Malays of the neighbouring
villages hear that the rajah was at Siol, than they began flocking to
him. He now started for the Samarahan, and rested at the little village
of Sabang, and to the honour of the Malay character, I must add that
during the height of his power and prosperity, never did he receive so
much sympathy, tender attention, and delicate generosity, as now when a
defeated fugitive. They vied with each other, as to who should supply
him and his party with clothes and food, since they had lost all, and
if to know that he was enshrined in the hearts of the people was any
consolation to him in his misfortunes, he had ample proofs of it then.
When morning broke in Kuching, there was a scene of the wildest
confusion; the 600 rebels, joined by the vagabonds of the town, half
stupefied with opium, were wandering about discharging their muskets
loaded with ball cartridge in every direction; but at eight o’clock
the chiefs of the gold company sent a message to the bishop of Labuan,
requesting him to come down and attend the wounded. He did so, and
found thirty-two stretched out, the principal being from gun-shot
wounds; but among them he noticed one with a gash across his face from
the last blow Mr. Crymble had struck at the rebels, and before his
arrival they had buried five of their companions.
It was evident that in the intoxication of victory the Chinese aimed
now, if not before, at the complete government of the country, and
summoned the bishop of Labuan, Mr. Helms, Mr. Ruppell, and the datu
bandhar to appear at the court-house; the English were obliged to
attend the summons, and the last came with great reluctance, and
contrary to the advice of his energetic brother, but it was thought
expedient to gain time.
The Chinese chiefs even in their most extravagant moments of
exultation, were in great fear that on their return the Malays might
attack their crowded boats, and destroy them, as on the water they felt
their great inferiority to their maritime enemies.
It must have been an offensive sight to the English and the Malays
to witness the arrangement of the court-house: in the rajah’s seat
sat the chief of the kunsi, supported on either side by the writers
or secretaries, while the now apparently subdued sections took their
places on the side benches. The Chinese chief issued his orders, which
were that Mr. Helms and Mr. Ruppell should undertake to rule the
foreign portion of the town, and that the datu bandhar should manage
the Malays, while the kunsi as supreme rulers should superintend the
whole, and govern the up country.
Everything now appeared to be arranged, when it was suggested that
perhaps Mr. Johnson might not quite approve of the conduct of the
Chinese in murdering his uncle and his friends; for the rajah at that
moment was supposed to be dead, and the head of Mr. Nicholets was shown
as the proof. At the mention of Mr. Johnson’s name there was a pause,
a blankness came over all their faces, and they looked at each other,
as they now remembered apparently for the first time that he, the
rajah’s nephew, was the governor of the Sea Dayaks, and could let loose
at least 10,000 wild warriors upon them. At last it was suggested,
after an animated discussion, that a letter should be sent to him,
requesting him to confine himself to his own government, and then they
would not attempt to interfere with him.
The Chinese were very anxious to have matters settled, as with all
their boasts they did not feel quite comfortable, and were anxious
to secure the plunder they had obtained. They now called upon the
gentlemen and the Malay chiefs present to swear fidelity to the kunsi,
and under the fear of death they were obliged to go through the Chinese
formula of taking oaths by killing fowls. Next day the rebels retired
up country unmolested by the Malays, and a meeting was at once held
at the datu bandhar’s house to discuss future proceedings; at first
no one spoke, there was a gloom over the assembly, as the mass of
the population was deserting the town, carrying off their women and
children to Samarahan as a place of safety, when abang Patah, son to
the datu tumanggong, addressed the assembly. He was a sturdy man, with
a pleasant, cheerful countenance, and a warm friend to English rule,
and his first words were,--“Are we going to submit to be governed by
Chinese chiefs, or are we to remain faithful to our rajah? I am a man
of few words, and I say I will never be governed by any but him, and
to-night I commence war to the knife against his enemies.”
This was the unanimous determination of the assembly, but they were
divided as to the course to be pursued. Patah, however, cut the knot
of the difficulty by manning a light canoe with a dozen Malays, and
proceeding at once up the river, attacked and captured a Chinese
boat, killing five of its defenders. In the meantime the women and
children were all removed from the town, and some boats were armed and
manned, but imperfectly, as the Chinese had taken away the contents of
the arsenal, and the principal portion of the crews were engaged in
conveying the fugitives to Samarahan.
Patah’s bold act was well-meaning, but perhaps premature, as the
Malays, being scattered, could not organize a resistance, and urgent
entreaties were made to the rajah by well-meaning but injudicious
friends, to return and head this movement. He complied, though he knew
its futility, and arrived at Kuching to find the rest of the English
flying, the town in the hands of the Chinese, and smoke rising in every
direction from the burning Malay houses. It appeared when the news
reached the Chinese that the Malays were preparing for resistance,
they determined to return immediately and attack them before their
preparations were completed. They divided their forces into two
portions, as they were now recruited by several hundreds from the other
gold workings, and had forced all the agriculturists at Sungei Tañgah
to join them; in fact, their great cargo boats would not hold their
numbers, so one-half marched down the road leading from the fields I
have mentioned, near the little hill of Stapok, while the rest came by
river.
As soon as the Malays saw the Chinese boats rounding the point, they
boldly dashed at them, forced them to the river’s banks, drove out
the crews, and triumphantly captured ten of the largest. The Chinese,
better armed, kept up a hot fire from the rising ground, and killed
several of the best men among the Malays, among others abang Gapur,
whose disbelief in his kinsman’s story enabled the rebels to surprise
the town, and who to his last breath bewailed his fatal mistake; and
one who was equally to be regretted, our old follower Kasim, whom I
have so often mentioned in the earlier chapters. The latter lingered
long enough to see the rajah again triumphant, and said he died happy
in knowing it. It was he who, though a good Mahomedan, and without
knowing he was a plagiarist, used to say,--“I would rather be in
hell with the English, than in heaven with you, my own countrymen.”
Notwithstanding their losses, the Malays towed away the boats,
fortunately laden with some of the most valuable booty, and secured
them to a large trading prahu anchored in the centre of the river.
Having thus captured also some better arms and ammunition, they kept up
a fire on their enemies who lined the banks.
In the meantime the rajah arrived opposite the Chinese quarter, and
found a complete panic prevailing, and all those who had preceded
him flying in every direction; having vainly endeavoured to restore
a little order, he returned to carry out his original intention. He
joined the fugitives farther down the river, and having sent off the
ladies and the wounded to the secure fort of Lingga, under the care
of the bishop and as many Englishmen as he could spare, he prepared
on the following day to take the same route, in order to obtain a
base of operations, and a secure spot to rally the people and await a
fresh supply of arms. It was sad to think of the mischief which might
happen during this period of enforced inaction, particularly as the
datu bandhar and a chosen band were still in Kuching anchored in the
centre of the river, and making attacks whenever they saw a chance.
The Chinese were dragging up heavy guns, and it was evident the Malays
could not hold for many days, and there was now nothing to defend, as
the flames reddened the horizon and the increasing volumes of smoke
told the tale too well that the town was being destroyed.
With feelings of the most acute distress these few Englishmen, under
their brave leader, put out to sea to bear away eastward; when a
cry arose among the men, “Smoke, smoke, it is a steamer!” and sure
enough there was a dark column rising in the air from a three-masted
vessel; for a moment it was uncertain which course she was steering,
but presently they distinguished her flag; it was the _Sir James
Brooke_, the Borneo company’s steamer, standing right in for the
Muaratabas entrance of the Sarawak River. The crew of the rajah’s boat
with shouts gave way, and the prahu was urged along with all the power
of their oars, to find the vessel anchored just within the mouth.
Here, indeed, was a base of operations; the rajah felt the country was
saved. The native boats were taken in tow, and the reinforcements of
Dayaks, who were already arriving, followed up with eager speed. What
were the feelings of the Chinese when they saw the smoke, then the
steamer, it is not necessary to conjecture; they fired one wild volley
from every available gun and musket; but the balls fell harmlessly; and
when the English guns opened on them, they fled panic-stricken, pursued
by the rejoicing Malays and Dayaks.
Early that morning a large party of Chinese had crossed from the right
to the left bank to burn the half of the town which had previously
escaped; but though they succeeded in destroying the greater portion,
they signed their own death warrant, as the Malays, now resuming the
offensive, seized the remainder of their boats, and the relentless
Dayaks pursued them through the forests. Not one of that party could
have escaped; some wandered long in the forests and died of starvation,
others were found hanging to the boughs of trees, preferring death by
suicide to the lingering torments of hunger. All these bodies were
afterwards found, and the natives said on every one of them were from
five to twenty pounds sterling in cash, silver spoons or forks, or
other valuables, the plunder of the English houses.
Thus was the capital recovered; the Chinese on the right bank all fled
by the road, and thence retired up to the fort of Biledah, opposite
the town of Siniawan. The Land Dayaks were all ready assembled under
their different chiefs, and these without one exception stood faithful
to the government, and now rushed in every direction on the Chinese,
driving them from their villages, and compelling them to assemble and
defend two spots only, Siniawan and Bau, with the landing places of the
latter. The smoke rising in every direction showed them that the loss
they had inflicted on others was now retaliated on them. The kunsi had
in their blind confidence made no preparations for an evil day, and it
was well known that their stock of food was small, as everything had
been destroyed except their own stores at Tundong, Bau, and a little
at Siniawan, and they were required to supply all those whom they had
forced to join them from the town and the whole agricultural population.
The harassing life they led must soon have worn them out without any
attacks, as they could no longer pursue their ordinary occupations,
or even fetch firewood or water without a strong armed party, as the
Dayaks hung about their houses and infested every spot. It soon became
a question of food, and they found they must either obtain it, or
retire across the border into Sambas. They therefore collected all
their boats and made a foray of eight miles down the river to Ledah
Tanah, and there threw up a stockade, in which they placed a garrison
of 250 of their picked men, under two of their most trusted leaders.
They put also four guns in position to sweep the river, and these
Chinese had the best of the government carbines and rifles there. They
also sacked a few of the Dayak farmhouses, and one party made a bold
attempt to reach the rajah’s cottage at Peninjau, to which I have
referred in my chapter on the Dayaks of the right-hand branch.
But the villagers of Sirambau, Bombok, and Peninjau assembled in force,
threw up stockades across the steep path, and successfully defended
it against the assailants, who were driven back and pursued with
loss. To check the Chinese and afford assistance to the Land Dayaks,
the rajah sent up the datu bandhar and a small but select force to
wait his arrival below the Chinese stockade, but the gallant bandhar,
on being joined by the datu tumanggong and abang Buyong, and a few
Sakarang Dayaks, dashed at the fort, surprised the garrison at dinner,
and carried it without the loss of a man; the Chinese threw away their
arms and fled into the jungle, to be pursued by the Sakarang Dayaks;
stockade, guns, stores, and boats, all were captured, and, what was of
equal importance, the two principal instigators of the rebellion were
killed.
As soon as a few of the fugitives reached the fort at Beledah a panic
seized the Chinese, and they fled to Bau, where they made preparations
to retire into Sambas. The rajah, who was hurrying up to the support of
the bandhar, hearing of his success, despatched Mr. Johnson with the
light division to harass the enemy, and the advance parties of his Sea
Dayaks were on them immediately, but the Chinese being well provided
with fire-arms were enabled to retire in tolerable order, from a few
miles beyond Bau to the foot of the Gombang range, along the good path
which, as I have before mentioned, they had constructed; but every now
and then the active Dayaks made a rush from the thick brushwood which
borders the path, and spread confusion and dismay, but the Chinese
had every motive to act a manly part, as they had to defend above a
thousand of their women and children who encumbered their disastrous
flight.
At the foot of the steep hill of Gombang they made a halt, for the
usual path was found to be well stockaded, and a resolute body of
Malays and Dayaks were there to dispute the way. It was a fearful
position; behind them the pursuers were gathering in increasing
strength, and unless they forced this passage within an hour they must
all die or surrender. At last some one, it is said a Sambas Malay,
suggested that there was an upper path, which, though very steep, was
yet practicable; this was undefended, and the fugitives made towards it.
The Sarawak Malays and Dayaks, too late seeing their error in
neglecting to fortify this also, rushed up the edge of the hill, and
drove back the foremost Chinese; their danger was extreme; at that
moment, as if by inspiration, all the young Chinese girls rushed to
the front and encouraged the men to advance, which they again did,
and cheered by the voices of these brave girls who followed them
close, clapping their hands, and calling to them by name to fight
bravely, they won the brow of the hill, and cleared the path of their
less numerous foes. They were but just in time, as the pursuers were
pressing hotly on the rearguard, and the occasional volley of musketry
told them that the well-armed Malays were upon them; but they were now
comparatively safe, as they soon cleared the Sarawak borders, and,
although a few pursued them, the main body of the Malays and Dayaks
halted on the Gombang range.
The miserable fugitives, reduced to two thousand, of whom above a half
were women and children, sat down among the houses of the village
of Sidin, and many of them it is said wept not only for the loss of
friends and goods they had suffered from the insensate ambition of the
kunsi, but that they must give up all hope of ever returning to their
old peaceful homes. The kunsi, which on the night of the surprise
had numbered six hundred men, were now reduced to a band of about a
hundred, but these kept well together, and were better armed than the
others, and formed the principal guard of the Taipekong, or sacred
stone, which they had through all their disasters preserved inviolate.
Several times the assailants, who mistook it for the gold chest, had
nearly captured it, but on the cry being raised that the Taipekong was
in peril, the men gathered round and carried it securely through all
danger. But here at Sidin, all immediate apprehension being over, the
discontent of those who had been forced to join the rebels burst forth
without control, so that from words they soon came to blows, and the
small band of the kunsi’s men was again reduced by thirty or forty from
the anger of their countrymen. Continuing their disorderly retreat,
they were met by the officers of the Dutch government, who very
properly took from them all their plunder and arms, and being uncertain
which was their own property, erred on the safe side by stripping them
of everything. Thus terminated the most absurd and causeless rebellion
that ever occurred, which, during its continuance, displayed every
phase of Chinese character: arrogance, secrecy, combination, an utter
incapability of looking to the consequences of events or actions, and
a belief in their own power and courage, which every event belied. The
Chinese never have fought even decently, and yet till the very moment
of trial comes they act as if they were invincible.
I think this insurrection shows that though the Chinese require
watching, they are not in any way formidable as an enemy, and it also
proves how firmly the Sarawak government is rooted in the hearts of the
people, since in the darkest hour there was no whisper of infidelity.
Had the Chinese been five times as numerous, there were forces in the
background which would have destroyed them all. Before the Chinese had
fled across the border thousands of Seribas and Sakarang Dayaks had
arrived, and the people of Sadong were marching overland to attack them
in rear, while the distant out stations were mustering strong forces,
which arrived only to find all danger past.
I almost believe it was worth all the disaster to show how uniform
kindness and generous consideration are appreciated by the Malays and
Dayaks, and how firmly they may become attached to a government which,
besides having their true interests at heart, encourages and requires
all its officers to treat them as equals. The conduct of the Malay
fortmen, of Kasim and Gapur, the generous enthusiasm of abang Fatah,
and the gallant rush at the Ledah Tanah stockade by the bandhar and
his forces, show what the rajah has effected during his tenure of
power. He has raised the character of the Malay, and turned a lawless
race into some of the best conducted people in the world.
I must add that the results of the Chinese insurrection were very
curious in a financial point of view; though above three thousand five
hundred men were killed or driven from the country, yet the revenue
rose instead of falling, which proves what an extensive system of
smuggling had been carried on. The breaking up of the kunsi was felt by
all the natives as a great relief; and if the Chinese were to increase
to ten times their former numbers, there would not be the slightest
danger if ordinary precautions were taken, and if there were stringent
rules well carried out to prevent them either forming extensive
companies, or proper measures pursued to crush all attempts at banding
themselves into secret societies.
The Dutch authorities who formerly suffered so much from that very
formidable association, the great gold kunsi of Montrado, are now
free from all anxiety, as they no longer permit the Chinese to form
companies more numerous than may prove sufficient to develop a single
working, and the same system is at present pursued in Sarawak. It is
not at all surprising that those Chinese who were forced to join in
the insurrection under threats of the vengeance of the kunsi, should
look back with regret to the quiet days they spent whilst cultivating
the fertile soil around Stapok or Suñgei Tañgah, and should now
petition for permission to return to Sarawak, which they do. However,
the regulation I have before mentioned as in force in the Sambas
territories, prevents their leaving, as they cannot readily gather
together the six pounds sterling necessary, and if they remove they
like to do so in a body, but small parties of fugitives occasionally
arrive. It is worthy of remark, that a few days after the insurrection,
boats full of armed Chinese arrived from Sambas to inquire whether
Sarawak were not now in the hands of their countrymen, and were
proceeding up to join them, but were easily driven back and destroyed
by the Malays, who, in a cause which they have at heart, are more than
a match for treble their number of Chinese.
The Dutch authorities hearing of the rebellion in Sarawak sent round a
steamer with a party of soldiers to the assistance of the authorities,
but fortunately by that time all danger was passed, and as soon as
possible after the receipt of the news, Sir William Hoste, who has
always shown so intelligent an interest in Bornean affairs, sailed for
Sarawak in H. M. S. _Spartan_.
The news of the insurrection reached me after a very long delay, as the
first intimation I had of it was through a letter from Mr. Ruppell,
dated Singapore, as he had left Sarawak after the failure of the Sunday
attack, and I was kept in suspense for above a week, when a more rapid
sailing-vessel brought me the news that Sir James Brooke had triumphed.
I went down to Sarawak by the first opportunity, and reached it in
July, to find everything proceeding apparently as if no insurrection
had occurred. Though the Malay town had been burnt down, yet the
inhabitants had soon recovered their energy, and had built their
houses again, which, though not so substantial as the former ones,
still looked very neat. Some things were missed in the landscape,
and the handsome government house with its magnificent library, had
disappeared; Mr. Crookshank’s and Mr. Middleton’s houses were also
gone, and, with the exception of the rajah, they were the principal
sufferers, as the Chinese had had no time to destroy either the church
or the mission-house, or the Borneo company’s premises, and although
they all suffered losses from pilferers, yet they were comparatively
trivial, when placed in comparison to that noble library, which was
once the pride of Sarawak.
I found, as I had expected, that the loss of worldly goods had had
little effect on the ruler of the country, who was as cheerful and
contented in his little comfortless cottage, as he had ever been in the
government house. His health, which before was not strong, had been
wonderfully improved by his great exertions to endeavour to restore
the country to its former state, and I never saw him more full of
bodily energy and mental vigour than during the two months I spent at
Sarawak in 1857. Everybody took their tone from their leader, and there
were no useless regrets over losses, and it was amusing to hear the
congratulations of the Malay chiefs, “Ah, Mr. St. John, you were born
under a fortunate star to leave Sarawak just before the evil days came
upon us.” Then they would laughingly recount the personal incidents
which had occurred to themselves, and tell with great amusement the
shifts they were put to for want of every household necessary. There
was a cheerfulness and a hope in the future which promised well for the
country.
There is at the present time a branch of the Tien Ti Hué, established
in our colony of Labuan, and last August its meeting-house was
discovered in the depths of the forest, but none of its members were
caught unlawfully assembling, though all its chief officers are well
known to the police, and as Labuan is a penal settlement for Chinese
convicts, the evil of permitting the secret societies to continue is
obvious.
The danger to be apprehended from the secret societies is that all the
members are banded together by the most solemn oaths, and under the
penalty of death, not to divulge one of its secrets, and to aid and
assist its members under every circumstance; to bear no witness against
them, whatever may be their crimes, to shield fugitives from the laws
of the country, and lastly to carry out the orders of their chiefs,
whatever may be the consequences. In Singapore murdered men were
formerly often found with the mark of the secret societies upon them,
and the ordinary operations of the law are insufficient to meet these
cases. In fact, when any of their members are brought to trial, the
wealth of these great societies is sufficient to enable them to engage
the services of the best advocates, and to bribe most of the witnesses,
and the Singapore government has been thwarted in its efforts to put
down the secret societies, and to prevent pirate junks arming in the
harbours, by the technicalities of judges totally unacquainted with
the condition of eastern society, and by the perseverance of some of
the lawyers there, who consider it right to defend those curses to the
country by every means which are placed within their reach, by laws
intended to meet the requirements of a highly civilized people like the
English, and not a wild gathering from a hundred different countries,
such as is to be found in Singapore.
Not to interrupt the narrative, I have not before noticed that during
the height of the insurrection, when the rebels had only been driven
from the town a few days, news came that several hundred Chinese
fugitives from the Dutch territories had crossed the borders towards
the sources of the left-hand branch of the Sarawak, and were seeking
the protection of the Sarawak government. Though harassed by incessant
work, the rajah did not neglect their appeal, but immediately
despatched trustworthy men, who safely piloted them through the excited
Dayaks, who thought that every man who “wore a tail” ought now to be
put to death. No incident could better illustrate the great influence
possessed by the rajah over the Dayaks and Malays, and his thoughtful
care of the true interests of the country, during even the most trying
circumstances.
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MISSIONS: ROMAN CATHOLIC AND PROTESTANT.
Arrival of the Roman Catholic Mission in Labuan--Signor
Cuarteron its head--Curious reports--His real history--Finding
the Treasure--Turns Priest--Ostensible object of the
Mission--Not attempted--Ease with which Captives could
escape--No Inclination to do so--Turned Mahomedans--Return of
Signor Cuarteron--Courtesy of the Brunei Government--Intentions
of the Italian Priest--Model Village--The Italian Priests--The
Churches--Old Battery--Regret at the withdrawal of the Roman
Catholic Mission--Protestant Mission at Sarawak--Present
Condition--Comparative Failure--Partial Success at Lingga
and Lundu--Mr. Chalmers and the Land Dayaks--Causes of his
Influence--Mistake in establishing the Mission at Kuching--The
Reasons--Objectionable Position for Schools--Proper Position
for the Mission--Suitable spots--Waste of Funds in Boats and
Plantations--Deplorable Secession of Missionaries--Reasons
to account for it--Present Management faulty--Mr. Gomez in
Lundu--Christian Dayaks warn the Government--Missionaries
always welcome in Sarawak--Important political effect--The
Church should be among the Dayaks--Suitable Men for
Missionaries--What the Head of a Mission should be--What he
too often is, and should not be--Five Recommendations to
increase Efficiency--Unoccupied Room for a great Increase of the
Number of Missionaries--Method of distributing them--Personal
Character--Dayaks an interesting Race--A Tribe half Mahomedans
half Pagans--Use of eating Pork--Districts unoccupied--Position
of the Missionary in Sarawak--The Bornean Mission an important
one.
I will first notice the Roman Catholic, as it has proved of the least
importance; and perhaps I shall best explain its complete failure by
giving an account of its chief.
In the spring of the year 1857, a Roman Catholic mission arrived at
our colony of Labuan. Its principal, Signor Cuarteron, a Spaniard,
soon became an object of interest, from the various reports that
were spread respecting his previous life, and from its becoming
generally known that he was the possessor of great wealth acquired by
extraordinary means. Strange stories were soon afloat, which would have
done more credit to his adventurous spirit than to his honesty: it was
asserted--and with truth--that the Manilla government had once set a
price upon his head; and absurd whispers were abroad that he had been
concerned in the slave-trade, and in buccaneering pursuits.
I have often heard him tell his own story, and it is a curious one.
He had noticed a ship loading treasure in Hongkong harbour, and
accidentally heard afterwards that a wreck had been seen on a certain
shoal in the China seas which answered the description of the treasure
ship: he went there and recovered a large amount of silver. He took
it to Hongkong, and ultimately, there being no claimants, received
the whole. Some of his enemies in Manilla took offence at his not
bringing it to his own port, and accused him of having committed
acts of piracy during the time he was engaged trading in the isles
farther east. He heard of this charge while cruising in the Sulu seas,
passing the necessary time before the treasure would be adjudged to
him. Distrusting colonial justice, and to avoid pursuit, he burnt his
vessel and escaped in a native boat. After some months all charges were
withdrawn, and he returned to Europe, and presenting himself before
the Pope, explained his desire to found and manage a mission in Borneo.
He was permitted to do so, and remained in Rome some years, in order to
study, and after visiting Spain and Manilla, at last reached Labuan,
with four Italian priests, two destined for the Bornean mission. I need
not comment on the singularity of some parts of this history.
He placed one of the priests at Brunei, the other at Labuan, while
he himself commanded a station at Gaya Bay. His principal object in
establishing the mission was, he said, to recover from slavery those
poor Christian brethren who, having been captured by pirates, had been
sold on the north-west coast of Borneo. They are there doubtless, but
he never appears to have made a sensible effort to free them. There
are three hundred in Brunei, all of whom could have been obtained
at 7_l._ a head, but I never heard of his paying but for one
old woman. He used to threaten the Brunei authorities with Spanish
steamers, but I imagine his own Government was too well aware of the
real state of the case to listen to him. Nine-tenths of the Manilla
captives could be free if they chose, as they might easily escape to
our colony of Labuan, but the fact is, they have intermarried with the
inhabitants and turned Mahomedans, and, therefore, will not leave the
country, except under compulsion.
Signor Cuarteron entrusted a large amount of his funds to the Papal
Government, as a permanent support for his mission, but they have been
applied to the pressing secular needs of the Pope; and, on my return
to Borneo, last year, I found the Italian priests had left, and nothing
of the mission remained but closed churches and Signor Cuarteron, and
that the funds he had retained in his own hand were being rapidly
dissipated by his own unsuccessful commercial pursuits. I believe he
has since returned to Manilla; so that practically the mission has
closed. This I think a very fortunate circumstance, as Signor Cuarteron
was totally unfit to conduct so important an undertaking, and his
constant intriguing and mixing in political affairs were productive of
serious mischief.
I may add that the courtesy shown by the authorities of Brunei
was exemplary; they submitted patiently to language to which they
were totally unaccustomed, and put no obstacles in the way of the
missionaries. The sultan made them a present of a piece of ground
on which they built a church, and said they might have as much land
as their converts could cultivate. Signor Ripa, the Italian priest
who had charge of this mission, intended to have made it the nucleus
round which those among the Manilla men who desired to rejoin the
Church, might congregate, and his object was to afford them sufficient
assistance to enable them to make gardens round the church, and support
themselves by their agricultural operations. As he was himself well
acquainted with agriculture, being the son of a landed proprietor
living near Lecco, he hoped in time to establish a sort of model
village, and a superior kind of cultivation.
All the Italian priests who came with this mission were from Milan,
and had an interesting story to tell, as they had all been engaged
in the effort to throw off the yoke of Austria in 1848. Two had
carried muskets, and two had attended to the wounded on the field. The
eldest, Signor Reyna, appeared to me to be one of those remarkable men
occasionally found among the missionaries of the Romish Church, of the
most pleasing manners, winning address, and acute mind, and yet he
was sent with four companions to New Guinea, where three of them were
killed and eaten by the inhabitants, while he escaped in shattered
health to die shortly afterwards.
The church in Brunei was built on a remarkable headland called
Brambañgan, where formerly was erected a battery to play upon the boats
of Sir Thomas Cochrane’s squadron, and where even now may be seen the
iron guns thrown down the bank by the marines and blue jackets, but
rendered useless by having their trunnions knocked off. The church
looks well amid the pretty hills that rise around it. At Labuan a
church was also commenced, but I believe never quite finished; and at
Gaya Bay, the chapel when I saw it consisted of a little leaf house,
which would not last a couple of years. No difficulty appears to have
been thrown in the way of the mission, even in these distant stations;
in fact, the people believing that all Europeans are under the
protection of England would never think of injuring them.
In many respects it is to be regretted that the Roman Catholic mission
was not more fortunate in its head, and that the funds should have
failed, as though we must all be anxious to extend the influence of
the English Church throughout the world, yet it is better the natives
should be Roman Catholics than remain in their present low state of
civilization. Nothing but Christianity can alter the real condition
of the people, as that only will turn their minds in a new direction
and free them from practices and habits which keep the country poor
and undeveloped. Some enterprising missionaries who would abandon all
regular communication with the world, and establish themselves in the
upper Trusan, among the Adangs, far from all Mahomedan influence, and
beyond the reach of the Malay government, might have even a greater
effect than those Roman Catholic missionaries had, whom Dr. Barton
mentions having met in the far interior of the Yang-tse-kiang, during
that enterprising expedition under Colonel Sarel.
I will now make a few remarks on the Protestant Mission, which left
England in 1847, to establish itself in Sarawak. I think the object
so very important, even regarded solely from a political point of
view, that I shall not hesitate freely to explain what I think the
causes of its comparative failure. Its condition, when I left Borneo
in September, 1861, was this: Mr. Koch, and a schoolmaster, Mr. Owen,
superintended the head mission at Kuching; Mr. Chambers was at his
station at Lingga, and Mr. Gomez at Lundu, both Sea Dayak tribes; while
Mr. Chalmers was at Quop, but had given notice of his intention to quit
the country at the end of the year, and now he has left.
Mr. Chambers and Mr. Gomez, though their actually baptized converts are
not numerous, have done great good at their respective stations. It
is not generally a just course to reckon results by the number of
converts in a tribe, as the majority may be almost prepared to join the
church, though kept back from a variety of motives. And this I believe
to be practically the case at both these stations, but especially at
Lundu.
[Illustration:
T. Picken, lith.
Published by Smith, Elder & C^o. 65, Cornhill, London.
Day & Son, Lith^{rs} to the Queen.
LUNDU CHURCH.]
The Borneo mission has been fortunate in securing these men, as they
appear thoroughly to act on what should be the guiding principle of a
missionary--that once he has entered on the profession, he should not
be turned to other paths, or forsake his work on account of personal
fears or petty annoyances. Of the numbers who have joined this mission
but four remain.
Mr. Chalmers is the only one who has attempted the task of converting
the Land Dayaks, and also the only one who ever made the slightest
progress in their language. He was beginning to have a great influence
over the Quop Dayaks, even inducing the girls to attend his school, and
in a short time, I believe, would have brought to baptism the whole of
this section of the Santah Dayaks. I hear they sincerely regret his
departure; and well they may, as it will be difficult to find another
so suited to the work. He had an aptitude for learning languages, a
genuine kindliness of disposition, and with ability to have ultimately
influenced the whole Land Dayaks through his converts at the Quop.
His influence partly arose from his determination not only to live
among them, but to speak to them in their own language. Most of our
intercourse with these people is carried on in the manner in which a
Frenchman would speak to a Spaniard through the means of imperfect
English. It is impossible properly to explain religion through such a
channel. Some of the Dayaks, but comparatively few, speak Malay well.
I am afraid a summary of results will show that little has been yet
done towards christianizing the Dayaks of the Sarawak districts, and
this failure has, I believe, arisen from many causes: among others,
from the position of the head mission, and from a mistaken view of the
way in which it should be conducted.
I am not aware of the exact amount granted to the Borneo mission,
but it appears to a looker-on that the greater portion is expended
in keeping up the staff and disbursements for the head mission at
Kuching, which does not, in fact, much influence the missionary work.
Kuching is a town almost exclusively composed of Mahomedan Malays and
Buddhist Chinese; and the only effect of establishing the mission
among the former is to have rendered them more zealous Mahomedans.
Before the arrival of the clergy, the mosque was nearly deserted, now
it is crowded. The same effect followed the arrival of the Catholic
priests at Brunei. It may be better for men to be earnest in a mistaken
religion than lukewarm; but to arouse their zeal will not assist our
efforts to spread Christianity.
The Chinese are almost impassible to the missionaries’ doctrines, and
always must be so, while their teaching is through interpreters, or the
medium of a foreign language.
The pretty church, the expensive and uncomfortable mission-house, the
schools, are all interesting objects at Kuching, but they do not
further the work among the aborigines.
There is another great objection to the present position of the
schools: it is too close to the trading town, and the children are
consequently exposed to every temptation; in fact, the girls’ school
was entirely ruined; and the boys must be injured by the constant
contact with the vicious among their countrymen. Since I left last
year, the Government have established a girls’ school in a situation
that promises greater success.
The proper position for a mission undertaken to christianize the Land
Dayaks should be among them, not twenty miles from the nearest tribe.
If the head mission had been established at San Pro, on the left-hand
branch of the Sarawak--and what lovelier position could be desired?--or
about Siniawan, on the right-hand branch, I believe I should have had
very different results to record.
It would not have been a popular recommendation to banish the bishop
of Labuan and his staff from the charming society that was always to
be found at Kuching to what would have been called the wilds of the
interior; but they would not have been in so isolated a position as the
Government officers who live in the out-stations, San Pro being within
four hours’ pull of the capital.
At Kuching, a chaplain is required to perform the services of our
Church for the Europeans resident there, but this clergyman should be
paid from some special fund by Government, or by the inhabitants, and
not from the allowance to the Bornean mission.
I have mentioned that there are at present three stations besides
Kuching where missionaries are established. The first is Lingga, which
requires a coasting voyage of thirty miles; the second, Lundu, which in
rough weather may be reached by inland water passages; and the third is
the Quop, a branch of the Sarawak.
None of these stations necessitates the expensive modes of
communication adopted: there was, first, a life-boat, which proved
useless; then the “Sarawak Cross” was bought and fitted up at an
expense of 1,200l., to be sold for a third of its cost; and now I hear
another life-boat is to be purchased. The last kind is neither so safe
for a shore voyage, nor so comfortable as a well fitted up native
prahu, which would cost less than 20_l._ All this appears to be a
great waste of the mission funds. It was necessary for Bishop Selwyn to
have a schooner in New Zealand, as he had many islands to visit; but
the Bornean Mission does not require it.
I have heard that several missionaries are on their way out. If these
be kept at Kuching, or sent to the very distant out-stations, they
will prove nearly useless, as in these positions there is no familiar
intercourse with the natives on account of a variety of circumstances.
Efforts should be concentrated, not scattered; and the best way of
influencing the Dayaks is to let the missionaries proceed to their
villages and learn their language. There are fifty thousand Land Dayaks
in Sarawak, Samarahan, and Sadong, who have not a missionary among
them, and any work undertaken there will yield good results.
I am not anxious to find fault with past mismanagement, but to
recommend to the bishop of Labuan and the Society for the Propagation
of the Gospel, the abandonment of a system which has proved a failure.
If I rightly understand the intention in establishing the mission, it
was to endeavour to spread Christianity among the Dayaks, and this has
not been as yet fairly attempted. I believe one of the reasons for the
deplorable secession of men who had acquired some knowledge of the
language and the people, was keeping them too much at Kuching. They
wanted to have a home of their own among the Dayaks, where a personal
interest could be created, where their work would be clear to them, and
where their efforts would produce results.
Ten missionaries out of fourteen have abandoned their duties in
Borneo, and it is most probable that few of them would have left had
a defined work been placed before them, and had they been told to
consider a certain tribe, or a certain group of tribes, as their own to
manage;--in fact, placing them in a similar position to a clergyman in
his parish in England.
I think this plan should be well weighed before it is rejected, as
in two instances it has been partially tried, and has in some degree
succeeded, as at Lundu and Lingga.
That the present management is decidedly faulty, may be gathered from
this, that of all the officers in the Sarawak government service
who have been employed there during the last fourteen years, I only
know of one who has abandoned his position, and that one under
peculiar circumstances; while, as I have said, five-sevenths of the
missionaries have left their posts, though their work is not harder,
certainly not nearly so dangerous as that of the officers, and is as
well paid.
I am quite sure that a missionary placed as Mr. Gomez is, among an
interesting people like the Sibuyaus of Lundu, would never think of
abandoning them, unless from being disheartened by ill-considered
and unnecessary interference. He has acquired a great influence
among them, and is personally liked by the whole tribe. I have heard
the Dayak Chief speak of him with the greatest respect, saying, “He
is to us as our father--he watches over us, and does everything to
produce unanimity among us.” It was one of the Lundu converted Dayaks
who in the year 1859 first gave notice to the Government that some
discontented, discarded Malay chiefs were hatching plots against the
Europeans.
At Lingga, also, one of Mr. Chambers’s Dayak friends sent the same
warning; and this leads me to the consideration of what a change it
would effect in Sarawak if the mass of the Dayaks were Christians. The
Sarawak government officers are fully alive to this, and the missionary
is heartily welcomed at every station, and every assistance and
encouragement given him that can be done without awakening the jealousy
of the Mahomedans. Care, of course, is necessary where a government
rules all religions, and depends for its principal support on the
Malays. If a few thousand Dayaks were Christians, they would become the
mainstay of the Europeans.
It has been partially forgotten that the Dayak will not generally
come and ask to be converted, particularly if it involves a journey
of twenty miles. The missionary must be with him always, understand
his ways and his language, feel an interest in his local affairs, and
assist him with his matured advice.
With regard to the missionaries themselves, they should not only be
earnest men, but have a practical acquaintance with the world, and this
knowledge cannot be better obtained than at Oxford, Cambridge, and
our other universities. Medical acquirements are also of singular use
to the missionary. The present bishop of Labuan possesses them to a
remarkable extent; and I, among the other Englishmen who have dwelt in
Sarawak, have to thank him for a patient and skilful attendance.
Perhaps no position is more difficult than that of the head of a
mission; it requires the greatest tact, the calmest temper, the most
complete government of tongue, a generous enthusiasm to warm the
enthusiasm of others, a knowledge in the management of men and things,
rarely found. I have heard that the bishops of New Zealand and Columbia
answer to my description. Too often men otherwise estimable, when they
are placed in authority, become overbearing, coarse in their manner
towards subordinates, hasty in temper, uncertain in arrangement,
and ungenerous to the foibles of their associates; and, if to these
unfortunate qualities be added a systematic disparagement of the
work done by others, unwarranted expressions about their neighbours,
and continued and unnecessary absence from their posts on trifling
pretexts, much injury must be done to the missions placed under their
care, and would account for the failure of many.
In thus publishing my own opinion of the mission, I am but giving
the result of the experience of a looker-on, who has no practical
acquaintance with the management or working of religious societies; but
as a disinterested observer, I have made some recommendations which
cannot at once be followed, though all may be in time.
First. The head mission should be placed among the Dayak tribes, and a
chaplain left at Kuching, as work, not society, should be the object
aimed at.
Second. The schools should be removed from the contaminating influence
of the town, and the left-hand branch of the river offers suitable
spots.
Third. The missionaries should be placed in responsible positions over
certain tribes, and with the same kind of authority as a clergyman in a
parish at home.
Fourth. The bishop should not interfere with the internal management of
the local mission and the local schools, more than is at present done
in England.
Fifth. The funds should not be dissipated in buying useless boats,
or in trying to keep up abortive plantations, on which already large
sums have been wasted. Enough has been lost to have built a church and
missionary house in every section of Sarawak.
If these recommendations be stringently carried out at the first
opportunity, there may be yet a bright future for the Sarawak Mission,
which is, without doubt, one of the most interesting in the world.
I would earnestly draw attention to the fact that there is unoccupied
room for missionaries in nearly all the rivers. Mr. Gomez does his duty
well at Lundu, but there are not perhaps more than a thousand Dayaks
there. Mr. Chambers at Lingga has probably seven thousand around him,
and requires assistance to enable him to influence the whole tribe.
There remain, therefore, nearly two hundred thousand Dayaks without
a teacher among them, and there would be work there for a hundred
missionaries. I am, however, convinced that spreading your strength
is comparative weakness. The ground should be gradually occupied; and
when one tribe had its teacher, it should not be considered enough to
influence all the surrounding ones; but as the missionaries arrived,
they should be sent to the very next tribe, and not away a hundred
miles. The teaching would then act and react: the Dayaks would take an
interest in comparing the ways and methods of their different pastors;
and once awaken an interest, half the work is done.
One missionary left among a large population is lost. I have heard it
said that occasional preaching in a tribe would do great good. I think
not. Influence in the East depends on the personal character; but even
defects may, and would be overlooked if the missionary showed a real
interest in the affairs of his people, and this can only be displayed
by one who has acquired his knowledge by continued and familiar
intercourse with the tribe.
I think those who have read my chapters on the Dayaks will not fail to
observe that they are an improvable race; that they do not possess any
superstitions or beliefs likely to offer great obstacles to Christian
teaching. If I have not created an interest in them, the fault is mine,
not theirs.
Another point is worthy of attention. In the districts lately ceded
to Sarawak, there is a curious population of Milanaus, half of them
Mahomedans, the other half Pagans. They live together in the same
villages, and probably their conversion is but skin-deep. At all
events, the rest have refused to join the Islamites, as pork would then
be forbidden. It is a great satisfaction to all the Dayaks, Kayans,
and unconverted Milanaus, that the English, the superior and governing
race, indulge in the flesh of the prohibited animal: they often talk of
it with pleasure.
Within the territory of Sarawak there are, as I have said, many
districts totally unoccupied--as Samarahan and Sadong, with its
population of Land Dayaks. And the branches of the great river Batang
Lupar, occupied by Sea Dayaks, are all free to new-comers, except
Lingga. The Seribas, the Kalaka, the Rejang, and the rivers flowing out
of the hundred and thirty miles of coast between the last and Bintulu,
are totally untouched by the missionaries.
What a field it offers to brave and earnest men! No officer who has
dwelt among these people has left them without regret: the desertion of
so many missionaries must be ascribed to defects of management rather
than to dislike of the country. In Sarawak missionaries possess this
great advantage, that they associate freely, and of course on terms
of the most perfect equality with all the officers of the government,
an advantage which I have heard said is not extended to them in India.
It is useful in many ways, as it shows the Dayaks that all the English
take a warm interest in their religious welfare; and the very fact that
many of the missionaries have accompanied the government officers on
their official tours has not been lost on these tribes.
I may repeat that I am not sufficiently acquainted with the practical
working of our great Religious Societies to know what action could be
taken on this question, but I am convinced it is an important one,
and that all missionaries who go to convert the Dayak, and spread
our religion in Borneo, will be heartily welcomed by the Sarawak
government.
APPENDICES.
APPENDIX A.
DAYAK LANGUAGES.
SAMBAS TO BATANG LUPAR.
In forwarding me the four vocabularies which I now insert, the
Rev. William Chalmers mentioned that the Lara people say they came
originally from the neighbourhood of Brunei, the capital.
NOTE.
“The Sarawak Land Dyak is in the dialect of the Sentah tribe. The ū
of this tribe is changed into “o” in the other tribes of the river
Sarawak. Sentah River is a tributary of the southern branch of the
Upper Sarawak.
“The Sadong Dayak is the dialect spoken by the tribes on the river
Kadup, a tributary of the Upper Sadong.
“The Lara is a tribe of Upper Sambas, part of which now resides on the
Upper Lundu.”
* * * * *
“ē = English a.
e = English e in m_e_t.
ū = French u.
ŭ = English u in c_u_b.
au = ow in n_ow_.
ai = English i.
ei = English ay in l_ay_.
ō = aw in l_aw_.
ch final = German ch.”
--------------------+-----------------+---------------+---------------+------------------
---- | SARAWAK. | SADONG. | LARA. | SIBUYAU.
--------------------+-----------------+---------------+---------------+------------------
Able | shaūn | inshaūn | kaän | bulih
Across (river) | kadipa | sisa | pahja | sebrang
Acquainted with | kŭnyet | ŭmpuon | nŭmparu | tau
Afraid | taru | teroun | buut | takut
Agree | bepaiyu | janggi | bepusun | berjanji
Alligator | buai | buoi | buro | gaiyaŭ
Ant | subi | subi | subē | semut
Angry | boji | deroch | baji | hing-at
Arise from sleep | bura | mungkat | kias | dani
Ataps, leaf mats | ilaŭ | iraŭ | aro | atap
Above | sombu | sombu | samo | atas
All | perūg | samoa | sŭman-man | samoa
Ask (beg) | mite | minta | mahi | minta
Ask (enquire) | sikyen | pŭsik | masikan | tanya
Bathe | mamuch | ngumon | mamu | mandi
Below | ribo, sogan | sigan | saroch | dibahōa
Before | diŭ | taiyŭ | uru | dulu
Behind | {di kŭnang | di kŭnang } | buntot | dudi
| {di sundich | di sundich } | |
Beads | tumbis | tumbis | tumi | marēk
Black | singŭt | bihis | sungut | chelum
Bird | manuk | manok | manuk | burong
Blood | dēya | dēya | daya | daha
Blind | kerak | bŭkap | buta | buta
Break (in two) | pŭtah | pŭtah | patah | patah
Breathe | ngashūng | ngashūng | misingat | sipuat
Burn | mupun | nyahu | nyahu, ninu | tunoh
Bad | arap | bēek | jahē | jai
Boy | anak kŭnya | anak kŭnya | kangot | anak biak
Bachelor | bujang | bujang | bujang | bujang
Brave | pogan | pogan | pagan | brani
Bridge | teboiyan | ŭnyan | titi | andaŭ
BODY (HUMAN) | pŭrūng, tibu | tibo | ungan | tuboh
Head | ubak | bak | abak | pala
Forehead | arū | dēich | kaning | dai
Cheeks | pŭnding | pŭmpi | koko | koyu
Eye | betuch | matuch | matu | mata
Eyebrow | buruch kŭning | buruch kŭning | burun rimin | bulu kanīang
Eyelash | buruch kirat | kilat matuch | burun matu | bulu mata
Nose | unugn | undung | dudugn | idong
Nostrils | rubang unugn | rubang undung | rubang dudugn | lubang idong
Mouth | boba | boba | boba | mulut
Teeth | jipuch | jipun | japu | gigi
Tongue | jura | jilē | rata | dila
Throat | gunggong | tegunggong | gangogn | batang hukōang
Ear | kojit | kŭping | rajak | pundīang
Chin | seraka | raäng | rang | dagu
Hair of head | ubōk | buruch | abōk | buak
Neck | tungō | kukō | jangok | hukōang
Side | tigang | tigahang | silet | husua
Shoulder | kowin | kowi | kaī | bauh
Breast | sudō | ishuk | sadō | dada
Back | punok | jaju | rutuk | blakang
Belly | tain | putong | putugn | pahut
Posterior | kŭnang | pŭmpi kŭnang | rabat | buhīat
Loins | kupong | kupong | apagn | punggōang
Arm--shoulder | pupung | pumpong | barangu | buah langan
to elbow | | | |
Do.--elbow to | birēng | brungō | baregn | langan
wrist | | | |
Elbow | sukuch | sikuch | siku | siku
Hand | tŭngan | tŭngan | baregn | jahi
Fingers | trinyu | buah tŭngan | trinyo | tunjōi
Nails | siruch | siruch | siru | kuku
Wrist | brungō | ŭng-gŭm | ladak | angg-am
Thumb | sindu tŭngan | indu tŭngan | indu baregn | tunjōa indu
Thigh | pūūch | pūūch | pa | pa
Calf | bitēs | bitēs | batis | betis
Foot | kŭja | kŭja | kŭja | kaki
Ancle | buku siōk | tulang kelali | matu dudegn | buku alē
Knee | bak karŭb | bak tuod | tukugn | pala patōang
Heel | tiga | peniga | tigak | tumit
Palm | pura tŭngan | pŭpach tŭngan | parapa baregn | tapa jahi
Lips | bibich | bibich | bibich | mulut
Flesh | ishin | isi | inshin | isi
Bones | turang | tulang | turang | tulang
Navel | pŭshid | pŭshid | pusat | pusat
Knuckle | buku tŭngan | bukuck tŭngan | raka | buku tunjōa
Sole | pura kuja | pupach kuja | parapa kuja | tapa kaki
Skin | kurit | kulit | kurit | kulit
BEASTS:-- | | | |
Deer (rusa) | paiyu | paiyu | anyung | rusa
Monkey (kra) | oyung | kara | kara | kara
Dog | kŭshōng | kosho | kashu | asu
Cat | bushing | sengau | uching | maiau
Pig, domestic | aiyō | pongan | uwē | babi humah
Pig, jungle | pongan | laba | lauk | babi kampong
Rat | babu | babu, jupor | tikus | tikus
Cough (to) | mokūd | mungkud | mukut | batōak
Come | menūg | monūg | utung | datei
Cold | mŭdud | bŭbi, madud | sangu | chilap
Cry out | nai kiak | siak | ngampak | nyawa
Cry (weep) | sien | nŭngis | munse | nyabak
Cook | tanuk | nŭnuk | nanuk | nyumai
Companion | dingān | dingan | agē | pangan
Commit adultery | tŭngach | nyowang | bebaiyu | bambai
Covet | lipōng | kilek | murun | dika
Cut | kapūg | kapūg | mŭmagn | putus
Come out | ruach | luach | mungkas | pansut
DRESS:-- | | | |
Jacket | jipō | bojuch | jūpo | baju
Head-dress | bung ubōk burang| tundō | bung abak | labōang
Petticoat | jomuch | jomuch | jamu | kaiin
Trowsers | sinyang | saluar | salauar | tanchúat
“Chawat” | tāup | tahup | patung | sihat
“Tambok” | juach | juach | jua | jua
Do., small, | tambōk | tungking | tokeng | tambōak
worn on the | | | |
side | | | |
Pinang knife | sinda | sinda | sunda | lungga
Sheath of Pinang | randung |landong | sario | bandōang
knife | | | |
Parang | bukō tŭkin | bukō | bai | isau
Sheath of do. | sibōng | sibōng | dohong | tangkin
Day | ŭnu | onu | ano | ahi
Dance | berejang | belangi | nari | ngigal
Drink | nōk | nyūhūp | man pain | nyihup ai
Dumb | bawa, baku | kaku | awa | bisu
Deaf | bongam | tebodung | būngal | mandap
Destroy | rusak | rusak | rusak | husak
Divide | kutung | bedodŭg | punugn | daman
Doctor, to (bilian) | būrich, nguri | ... | ... | bilian
Doctor, a (male) | dayah beruri | ... | ... | manang
Do. (female) | bŭrich | dayung pancha,| bari | ...
| | bŭrich | |
Door | tiban | jigan | pintu | pintu
Dead | kŭbūs | kŭbūs | kabia | mati
Diligent | gŭgach | rijung | gŭgah | hajin
Enough | raput, sedang | luput | chukup | umbas
Eat | man | maän | uman | makai
Egg | turoch | ŭntulo | tura | telo
Enter | murūt | murūt | maru | masōk
Enemy | pūngănyu | pŭngaiyu | pengaiyu | munsoh
Fire | opui | opui | api | api
Forbidden (tabooed) | pūrich | pŭrich | pari | mali
Fish | ikyen | ikan | ikan | lawak
Fly (a) | tura | tura | nyamok | lalat
Fly (to) | mukābur | ŭnchaling, | mibir | terbang
| | [mobur | |
Fat | gŭmu | ... | manu | gumu
Fowl | siōk, siap | siōk, siap | siap | manok
Fall (“jatoh”) | rŭbu | rŭbu | mana | labōa
Forget | kambut | ngkomut | karimut | lupa
Father | sama | ŭmang | sama | apai
Firefly | bŭkarūp | ŭngkarup | kalamiu | chutlut
FRUIT:-- | | | |
Durian | dēan | dihŭn | dihan | hian
Plantain | borak | pisang | barak | pisang
Mangustin | sikuk | gunau | sikuk | langaiīn
Langsat | lishēt | lashat | sarikan | langsat
Go | ŭdi | oji | ana | jalei
Go up | maäd | nyumak | maka | niki
Go down | mun | muhun | disa | nuhun
Girl | anak dayung | anak dayung | angot | anak biak indu
Grown up (as | jukut | jukut | abut | sikut
brushwood, selut) | | | |
Get | dapūd | dapud | daput | tŭmu
Gape (yawn) | kuab | ngkuhab | chabun | nguap
Good | rŭmus | paguch | lŭmus | badas
God | Tŭpa | Tŭmpa | Penita | Batara
Give | nyen, jugan | jugon | mangkan | bahi
Glad | raän, awang | kira, awang | rēpo | dika-hati
Gold | berowan | berowan amas | berawan | mas
HOUSE:--Outside | rŭmin | rŭmin | rŭmin | humah
platform | tŭnyu | tonyu | bŭntahan | tanyu
Common room | awach | awach | sambi | ruei
Private room | arūn | rŭmin | ohang | lawang
Garret | rŭnga | rŭnga | rŭnga | sadau
High | omu | sŭmu | nyŭmu | tinggi
Hill | derūd | darūd | munggu | bukit
Hide | chukān | nyukān | nukan | lalei
Hungry | seburūk | seburūk | seburuk | lapah
Hear | dinga | ngŭping | danga | dingah
Husband | bonūch | bonūch | banun | laki
Hot (“panas”) | sura | nyowa, shiru | jera | panas
Hot (“angat”) | paras | paras | paras | angat
Is | ŭgi | aduch | uni | bisi
Is not | meting, doi { | kadū] aduch }| |
| { | inyap raiya }| kati | nadai
Jump over { | menyakir } | | |
{ | merejok } | melompat | nyantang | merejōak
Jump down | ngŭngung | ŭmpapu | nyangugn | trajun
Jungle | tarun | tarun | tarun | kampong
Kneel | sedikang | unyuch | nungkogn | nyerunkōang
Keep (“pliara”) | { kiugat | nagoch } | ngingu | ibun
| { nguän | nyingat } | |
Know | puän | ŭmpuon | penanē | tau, numŭ
Kill | siū | kenobūs | ngamis | bunoh
Large | bās | bahas | aihyo | besei
Lazy | sorut | bojag | ŭga | kelalāh
Lean | mănyuch | kurus | kurus | kuhus
Light, in weight | jangan | nyangan | nyaän | lempōang
Little, quantity | shīt | ichīuk | igēat | sikēat
Long | omu | ombuch | ŭngho | panjei
“Lesong” (a mortar)| lishōng | lesong | rensungan | lesong
“Alu” (a pestle) | aruch | alu | aru | alu
Laugh | tawūch | natau | guluk | tawa
Lie down | guring | ngulēng | guring | gali
Lie (speak falsely) | kādong | mudōng | lachē | bula
Many | bogū | tŭbun | kara | banyau
Melt | ririch | lilich | luluch | anchuah
Merciful | masi | masi | masē | kaseh
Moon | buran | buran | buran | bulan
Mother | sindu | aiyang, ŭndu | sindo | indei
Morning | ishan-ishan | pagi | ngakap ano | magi-pagi
Mat (“klasa”) | kasa | krŭsah | bidē | bidei
Mat (“tikar”) | ŭmok | ŭmak | bido | klaia
Man | dayah, naän | nūūch, inya | soök | ohang
Musquito | prungang | prunggang | pŭntujok | hyamōak
Mud | Jijūb | jijub | lulok | hubōah
Night | ngarūm | ngarūm | ngarum | malam
New | baüch | baüch | bahu | bahu
Not | dūch | kadū | kati | adai, nda
Not (do) | ma | ba | | anang
Now | madin | matē | mati dia | kamaia tu
Name | adūn | gŭnŭn | gaän | nama
Noon | yun ŭnu | narang onu | tŭno ano | s’tengah ahi
Old, man | nyamba | nya tuüch | ŭma | tuei
Old, thing | ŭma | dŭmba | tuhi | lama
Oil | inyō | inyō | aiyan | minyak
Open (to) | kuka | tuhas | nukas | silak
Other | bŭkūn | bukūn | lain | lnin
Outside | disopa | luäch sopa | sato | di luäch
One | ni | indi | ŭsa | sa
Once | ni, sidach | ni, idah | nisidah | sekali
Parang, forge a | moba | ngoba | maba | tŭmpa
Posts | rōs | oros | nahi | tiang
Poor | cherāta | babō | papa | seranta
Provisions | onyad | bokol | sanga | bekal
Perspiration | udās | udās | adas | peloh
“Pinang” (betel nut)| baï | pinang, bahai | ohē | pinang
Put down | na | jimpan | nana | ŭngkah
Put by | nikūa | jimpan | mogan | simpan
Paddy | padi | padi | padē | padi
Pleasant | sidi | sidi | ahwan | nyamei
Quickly | likas | pantas | japat | lekas
Red | birē | ŭnchalak | teransak | mirah
Return | mŭri | maring | urē | pulei
Remember | ingat | tian | ingat | ingat
Road | ŭran | jŭran | pagala | jalei
“Rotan” | wi | wi | wē | hutan
Remove (pindah) | beringar | berpindah | pindah | pindah
Run away | bu | buhu | boho | lari
Rotten | modām | modam | modam | buhua
Receive | kambat | kira | nyamut | terima
Rice | bras | bras, boru | nahas | bahas
boiled | tubi | sungkoi | nasi | asi
Straight | tŭnggūn | bujog | tamut | luhus
Strike (pukul) | mukōng | nŭntong | mangkugn | palu
Sick | mŭnam | mŭnam | ŭnam | pedīas
Short | purok | kŭdūk | punok | pandak
Sleep | būūs | būūs | buus | tindōak
Sun | betuch ŭnu | matūch shiru | matu ano | mat’ari
Stars | bintang | bintang | bintang | bintang
Shut (to) | tup | punut, tutu | tutup | tutup
Sandfly | biās | sirap | bihas | singīat
Scald | rāus | rōus | batu | angus
See | kirich | tŭbūk | mēlē | peda
Sharp | roja | roja | ruja | tajam
Shake, to (neuter) | beguyut | guyut | begotē | beguyu
Speak | mīnyu, sinda | besinda | kaséna | bejako
Sneeze | pasin | bekuchēsh | berusun | berkasi
Sit down | guru | ngulu | munyung | duduk
Stand up | mejōg | mijōg | agun | berdiri
Spider | tŭka | ŭngkŭka | ŭnga | tampa lawa
Steal | nŭku | nŭngku | nangko | chuhi
Sweet | nibŭnyich | sija | mamis | manis
Squeeze | pishū | michet | ngerachet | pichīat
Satiated | bisoch | bisō | baso | kenyang
Spacious | baiya tawash | nyowa | tawas | tawas
Sorry | susah-ŭtin | susah-ati | suba-latē | tusah
Small (size) | shīt | ichīŭk | inek | mukat, miet
“Sirih” | baïd | baïd | uït | sirih
Sky | lŭngit | langit | langit | langit
Snake | jipūch | nyipuch | nipa | ulah
Spit | ngiruja | nguruja | ngeruja | berludah
Spittle | ruja | rēyang | rayang | ai lioch
Stop (to) |rūū, mōkō | ngŭndei | madi | bado
Still (to be) | rūū | mŭndu | moko | diaû
Take | mit | tumit | tangkap | ambi
Touch | tŭma | tŭgūch | nyankam | jamah
Track | arōk, inyak | indich | tawan, aju | bakaŭ
To-morrow | sepagi | pagi | jakap | pagi
This | ati, iti, anū | siti, siech | dia | tu
That | ajech, inū | saäch | kako, tēan | nyun
Throw away | taran | bŭtan | matan | buei
Thirsty | bodūch ashūng | haus | karing ashung | haûs
Vegetables | kudōsh | ŭngkŭnūch | apu | daûn kayu
Wing | orad | arad | arat | sayap
White | buda | buda | ranagu | putih
Well (baik) | kena | paguch | baik | baiak
Walk | ponu | jalan | berjalan | bejalei
Woman | dayung | dayung | mahu | indu
Wife | sowūn | ŭshaū | saûun | bini
Water | piīn | umon | paīn | ai
Weary | kowūk | kunyoch | tukur | lelak
Wind (the) | sobak | mohu | nyaru | angin
Worms (stomach) | regyu | ŭngkiho | biar | belut
Work (to) | kamīnyang | kaminyang | mukut | jama
What? | uni, mani | ŭnich | jai | aû
Whither? | kamaki | gupich | kumē | kini
Whence? | so aki | sopich | utung adumē | arini
Who? | osi | osi | asi | apa
Young | mura | ŭngōd | angot | mudei
Yesterday | ŭnu mījach | ngŭndu | rami | kamahi
Year | sawa | sowa | sawa | taun
PRONOUNS:-- | | | |
I | aku | aku | ikin | aku
Thou | kuu | omu | ako | kōa
He | eiyūch | aiyech | ini | tu
We | kiech | ami | kaī | kami (exclusive of
| | | | persons addressed.)
| | | | kitei (inclusive.)
Ye | ŭngan | kita | akum | kita
They | eiyūch | aiyech | ini | tu
NUMERALS:-- | | | |
One | ni, ikan | | |
Two | duūch | | |
Three | taru | | |
Four | pat | | |
Five | rimūch | | |
Six | num | | |
Seven | juh | | |
Eight | maï | | |
Nine | priï | | |
Ten | simūng | | |
--------------------+-----------------+---------------+---------------+--------------------
I add now a short vocabulary, forwarded to me by the Rev. William
Gomez, who has been stationed at Lundu during many years. It involves
a little repetition, but is useful to compare with that collected by
the Rev. William Chalmers. By Lundu, Mr. Gomez refers to the original
inhabitants of that river.
NAMES OF TEN MEN AND WOMEN IN THE TRIBE.
Husband. Wife.
1. Kalong, O. K. Gunja.
2. Gali Binda.
3. Langi Rinja.
4. Itak Indak.
5. Samuling Rimba.
6. Nyinkong Jeba.
7. Bulang Mingga.
8. Lunsong Burong.
9. Mangga Sara.
10. Sageng Tamo.
HEIGHTS.
MEN.
OK Istia Rajah 5 ft. 2½ in.
Garai 5 ft. 4 in.
Bulang 5 ft. 3 in.
Jinal 4 ft. 10½ in.
Lunsong 4 ft. 11 in.
WOMEN.
Pungut 5 ft.
Ria 4 ft. 10½ in.
SPECIMENS OF THE DAYAK LANGUAGE.
-------------+-------------+--------------+-------------+-------------
---- | SABUYAU. | LARA. | SALAKAU. | LUNDU.
-------------+-------------+--------------+-------------+-------------
NUMERALS:-- | | | |
One | sa | asa | asa | ni
Two | dua | dua | dua | duo
Three | tiga | taru | talu | taru
Four | ampat | apat | ampat | pat
Five | lima | rima | lima | rimo
Seven | tujoh | ijo | tujoh | jo
Eight | lapan | mahi | delapan | mahi
Nine | sambilan | pire | sambilan | pire
Ten | sapuloh | sapuloh | sapuloh | samoong
| | | |
Waist | punggong | apakng | pinggang | kupong
Navel | pusat | pusat | pusat | pesud
Knee | pala paton | tukung | tuut | bakorob
Foot | kaki | kaja | paha | po, on
Heel | tumbit | tigak | tumit | tiga
Skin | kulit | kurit | ku, it | kulit
Bone | tulang | turakng | tuang | tulang
Flesh | isi | insin | isi | daging
Sinew | uhat | uhat | urat | at
Milk | susu | susu | susu | sisun
Heart | ati | ate | hati | atin
Spleen | kuha | kura | kura | kura
Gall | umpadu | umpadu | padu | podun
Brains | untak | untuk | otak | otuk
Blood | daha | daya | darah | daya
Spittle | di lioh | rayakng | ai uja | royang
Snivel | insak | buduk | edoh | dok
Tears | ai mata | pain matu | ai mata | eu boton
Perspiration | peloh | adas | pau | das
Dandriff | daki | dunuk | dati | ing
Pus | nana | penunu | nana | penona
Face | mua | bahas | muha | jawin
Dumb | bisu | awa | awa |
Deaf | bengal | bagi | banga | bangam
Blind | buta | buta | buta | buta
Dimness | ulon | kabor | kabor | kabor
Stammer | kat | mah | awah | awah
Silly | budon | bagah | bagah | budoh
Mad | gila | gila | gila | gila
Cough | batok | mukut | batok | mukud
Boil | bisul | tampusu | bisoan | perkis
Sea | laut | laut | laut | kirekng
Sun | matahari | matoano | mata ari | mata nanu
Moon | bulan | buran | buan | bulan
Star | bintang | bintang | bintang | bintang
Light | trang | tawas | tarang | java
Darkness | petang | petakng | petang | mapong
Heat | panas | jara | darang | putek
Cold | chelap | panut | dingin | modud
Cloud | remang | rahu | niga | gening ayong
Lightning | kilat | kilat | elak | kilat
Thunder | guntoh | guntor | guntor | dudu
Rainbow | unggoaja | meraje | antu ai | berengan
Mankind | manusia | sok | manusia | nyaah
Man | ohang laki | areh | angaki | nyaah dadari
Woman | ohang indoh | mahu | ang bini | dayung
Body | tuboh | ungan | tuboh | genan
Hair | bok | abok | bu, uk | bok
Head | pala | abak | kapala | bak
Forehead | dahi | kaning | kaning | uru
Temples | pisan | kingkek | tangengeng | ponyip
Eyebrow | bulu keneng | bulu rimin | bulu ramang | kening
Eye | mata | matu | mata | botun
Ear | pendeng | rajak | tere, nyek | kajip
Nose | idong | dudukng | idong | nogong
Cheek | pipi | kuko | koko | panig, ng
Mouth | mulut | baba | mulut | beba
Tongue | dila | rata | jia | jera
Lip | mulut | bibih | bibir | bibin
Teeth | gigi | japu | gigi | jupon
Neck | hakong | jangok | tegeh | tungoh
Chin | dagu | rākng | jago | rang
Back | blakang | rutuk | ba, ikang | punok
Feet | kaki | kaja | paha | po, on
Hand | langan | barekng | angan | tangan
Chest | dada | sadoh | dada | sodo
Finger | tunjok | terinyo | kukot | terinyo
Nails | kuku | siru | kuku | sirun
Stomach | prut | putukng | parut | tain
Fire | api | api | api | apoi
Smoke | asap | asup | asap | asu
Rain | hujan | hujan | hujan | jan
Wind | angin | nyaru | angin | sebak
Storm | bahat | tupan | nyaru | ribut
Sand | paseh | krasik | krasik | sumat
Stone | batu | batu | batu | batu
Mountain | bukit | mungu | bukit | doron
Hill | munggu | muton | muton | motang
Mud | reboh | paya | ochak | rapak
-------------+-------------+--------------+-------------+-------------
APPENDIX B.
The following vocabulary is compiled from materials furnished me by the
late Mr. Brereton. The Sea Dayak language is spoken by the aborigines
on the Batang Lupar and all its tributaries, the Seribas, Kalaka, and
the streams which flow to the left bank of the Rejang. The Bugaus, who
live in the districts bordering the great Kapuas river, speak the same
language. There are local variations, but they are of minor importance.
The Malau is the language of the aborigines living at the very interior
of the Kapuas, and, it is said, not many days’ walk from the great
mountain of Tilong.
-----------------+-----------------+-----------------+-----------------
---- | MALAY. | SEA DAYAK. | MALAU.
-----------------+-----------------+-----------------+-----------------
Straight | lurus | rurus | mupi
Crooked | bengkok | bingkok, simpin | kong kong
Square | ampat persagi | ampat bersgi | kuata
Round | bulat | bulat sagala | ga gulun
Long | panjang | panjai | ba lankei
Broad | lebar | besai | broh
Thick | tabal | tabal |
Thin | nipis | nipauh, mipis | nipis
Deep | dalam | dalam | ba jalam
High | tinggi | tinggi | ba lankie
Short | pandak | pondak |
Without | deluar | de ruai | tanga sauh
Within | dedalam | dedalam |
Light (in weight)| ringan | lumpong |
Heavy | brat | brat |
Above | deatas | datas | de asit
Below | debawa | de baroh | de yaum
Behind | deblakang | deblakang |
Before | demuka | demua | de roka
Between | antara | antara dua |
Here | sini | kitu, ditu | loku
There | sana | kinu duinyin | ke mangeh
Far | jauh | jauh |
Near | ampir | dampi | ampensop
Where | mana | nei iya | di selananu
At | de | de |
To | ka | ka |
From | deri | arri |
All | samoa | samoa | aus
Many | baniak | meio | byu
Few | sidikit | mimit | tetopit
Small | kechil | mit | keh kih
Large | Besar | besai | brah
Like | rupa | boka | si bangun
Now | sakarang | kamiyatu | anindehen
When | apabila | kamiya | endisi
Then | kamudien | kamiyania |
To-morrow | besok | pa gila balik | mina
Yesterday | kulmarin | ka mani | malam
Old | tuah | tuai | tuah
New | bharu | bharu obas | baruh
Slow | lambat | lobah | ba laun
Rapid | pantas | jumpat | ba riah
Strike | pukul | dadat | malun tongi
Break | patah | patah kru | poloh
Open | buka | telengah | ilakkeinih
Shut | tutup | tutup, tikup | tulopu
Lift | angkat | katon | angkat
Throw | kibar | tampalon | keiniko
Wet | basah | basah |
Dry | kring | rankai | kumbat tor
Light | trang | tawas tumpak | manara
Darkness | glap | petang | raun
Black | itam | chilum | an tarun
White | putih | burak | uteh uteh
Red | merah | mansoh | di darah
Yellow | kuning | kuning | tantu mūūn
Blue | biru | biru | biru
Green | ijau | ijo |
Country | negri | benua |
Earth | tanah | benua |
Stone | batu | batu |
Gold | mas | mau | mas
Silver | perak | perak | perak
Iron | besi | besi | besi
Mountain | gunong | bukit | bukit
Valley | lembah | darong lengkap | lengkap
Cave | guah | lobang batu | long batu
Hill | bukit | bukit | bukit
Plain | padang | padang | padang
Island | pulau | pulaū | pulau
Water | ayer | ai | danum
Sea | laut | tasik | rong jawa
River | suñgei | suñgēi | suñgai
Wind | angin | ribut | ribut
Hurricane | ribut | ribut bungat |
Cloud | awan | niga | dom
Rainbow | pulangi | anakraja |
Rain | ujan | ujan |
Lightning | kilat | kilat | suran
Thunder | guntur | guntur | dolok
Day | ari | ari | asoh
Night | malam | lamai |
Morning | pagi | pagi | kau ko
Sun | matahari | matahari | mat asoh
Noon | tangah hari | tiñgari |
Sky | lañgit | lañgit | suan
Moon | bulan | bulan | bulan
Star | bintang | apei andau | bintang
Hot | panas | panaa | panas
Fire | api | api | si siak
Burn | bakar | tunoh | tuton
Smoke | asap | asap | rimbu
Ashes | abu | abus | kutu au
Cocoa-nut | nior | buah miniakunjor|
Plantain | pisang | pisang | buah unti
Paddy | padi | padi | asseh
Rice | bras | brauh | brauh
Pumpkin | labu | antakai | parangi
Yam | ubi | abuk | miah
Seed | benih | banih, igi, | tulang ah
Tree | pokoh | pohn | akak kaya
Root | akar | randah, urat, | banarun
Leaf | daun | daun | daunah
Flower | buñgah | bungai | bukas
Fruit | buah | buah | buārah
Raw | mantah | matah | mutoh
Ripe | masak | mansoh | sasak
Deer | rusa | rusa | piang
Bear | bruang | jugam |
Cow | sapi | chapi, banting |
Goat | kambing | bedus | kambin
Dog | anjing | uduk, ukuè | asu
Hog | babi | jani | bawi
Monkey | kra | kra |
Cat | kuching | maiau | sih
Mouse | tikus kechil | chit |
Rat | tikus | chit | balau
Squirrel | tupei | tupei | but
Bird | burong | burong |
Domestic fowl | ayam | manok | manok
Duck | itek | itek | riri
Kite | alang | menaul | bau
Sparrow | pipit | pipit | duñgus
Swallow | layang layang | lelayang |
Crow | gagak | kak |
Cage | kurong | krukor |
Snake | ular | ural | ruar
Frog | katak | rinkak rarigu | ba ningar
Fish | ikan | ikan | lauk
Crab | katam | katam |
Prawn | udang | undai | undan
Butterfly | kupu kupu | maniah |
Bee | lebah | manyik |
Fly | lalat | lalat | lalas
Mosquito | niamok | niamok |
Louse | kutu | kutu |
Ant | semut | semut | sinsam
Spider | laba laba | ampelawa |
Horn | tandok | tandok | tunjan
Tail | ikur | iku | inkuah
Feather | bulu | bulu |
Wings | sayap | sayap | sapa
Egg | telor | tuloh | turoh roh
Honey | madu | ai manyik | danum muani
Wax | lilin | lilin |
Body | tuboh | tuboh | mantuan
Head | kapala | pala | ulu
Hair | rambut | bok | rambut
Face | muka | muah | lindoh
Ear | telinga | pending | telinga
Eye | mata | mata | mata
Nose | idong | idong | ingar
Cheek | pipi | kayuh | tampilik
Mouth | mulut | mulut | baba
Lip | bibir | bibir | kulit baba
Tooth | gigit | gilit n’li | gisi
Tongue | ledah | delah | lilah
Hand | tañgan | jari | tañgan
Finger | jari | tunjok | unjok
Thumb | jari ibu | tunjok indu | unjok tangan
Nail | kuku | kukut | kuku
Belly | prut | prut | pārut
Foot | kaki | kaki |
Bone | tulang | tulang |
Flesh | daging | isi |
Skin | kulit | kulit |
Fat | gamok | gamok | manbin
Lean | krus | kurus | dejankat
Blood | dara | dara |
Saliva | ludah | ludah | lasu
Sweat | peluh | peluh |
Hard | kras | kriang |
Soft | lambut | lemeh | aloeh
Hot | panas | añgat |
Cold | sejok | chilap | barasam
Thirsty | aus | rankei rekon | niawar akar
Hungry | lapar | rapah | mosi bertanka
Sour | masam | masam |
Sweet | manis | manis | mamis
Bitter | pait | pait |
Smell | bau | bau |
Fragrant | wañgi | añgit, nyamei |
Stinking | busok | but jaii |
Sick | sakit | padis, tabin | meka
Dead | mati | parei | mateh
Eat | makan | makai, dumpah | ankan
Drink | minum | irup | minum
See | lihat | mada | meta
Laugh | tatawa | tatawa |
Weep | menangis | niabak | nangis
Kiss | chium | sium | chisum
Speak | kata | jaku | men janum
Be silent | diam | diau | la lako
Hear | dañgar | niñgar | lingar
Lift | angkat | angkat |
Walk | jalan | jalai | lambar
Run | lari | rari belanda | lari
Stand | berdiri | berdiri | kadin
Sit | dukuk | duduk | duduh
Climb | panjat | niki | mumbit
Sleep | tidor | tindok | tindoh
Awake | bañgun | dani | sadin
Recollect | iñgat | iñgat |
Know | tau | nemu | temu
Forget | lupa | na iñgat |
Ask | tania | tania | ketu anan
Answer | saut | saut |
Understand | mengarti | nemu udi |
Yes | iya | au, bisi | oh
No | tidah | ingai, nadei | nanok
Beautiful | elok | bajik, badas | mam
Ugly | rupa jahat | nda badas, jaii |
Pleased | suka | gagot hati | sa sau niawa aku
Sorry | susah |tusut, tusah hati| sakanutin
Afraid | takut | takut, rawan |
Shame | malu | malu | bawa
Love | kasih | kasih, rindu |
Hate | binchi | na’ndu | nanak meh nia
Anger | marah | riñgat | babu julu
Wish | mau | dekah | menioh
Right | betul | amai |
Wrong | salah | salah |
Good | baik | badas | mam
Bad | jahat | jain | jauh
True | benar | amai, benda | topat
False | dusta | bula |
Wait | nanti | netu | ako akoh
Come | mari | datai |
Go | pergi | nurun, pegi | andor
Meet | temu | temu |
Hide | tapok | belalei | sunyān kolu ko
Search | chari | gigah | men ari
Find | dapat | ulih | kuleh
Give | kasìh | anjong, unjok | anlat
Take | ambil | ambi | taloh
Bring | bawa | bai | iawa
Take away | angkat | angkat | tangkong
Kill | bunoh | bunoh | dunoh
I | aku | aku | tak
Mine | aku punia | akum puh | tak ampunah
Thou | angkau | nuan | ikon
Thine | angkau punia | nuan puh | ikon ampunah
He, she, it | iya | iya | ninan
His, &c. | dia punia | niam puh |
We (_inclusive_ | kita | kita |
[_or absolute_) | | |
Our (_inclusive_)| kita punia | kitampuh |
We (_exclusive_ | kami | kami |
[_or relative_) | | |
Our (_exclusive_)| kami punia | kami puh |
You | kau | nuan |
Your | kau punia | nuanpuh |
They | iya | iya |
Their | iya punia | iyampah |
This | ini | itu |
That | itu | nin, nia |
Who | siapa | sapa |
What | apa | nama, kati |
Food | makanan | makai, enkaiu |
Rice, boiled | nasi | asi |
Sugar | gula | gula |
Oil | miniak | miniak |
Milk | ayer susu | ai tusu |
Flesh | daging | isi |
Boil | rebus | sumei |
Broil | panggang | ganggang |
Salt | garam | garam |
Clothes | pakayan | kain |
Earring | antin antin | gronjong, tiñga |
Chawat | chawat | sirat | kin paroh
House | rumah | rumah | sauh
Wood | kayu | kayu |
Posts | tiang | tiang | pra kayu
Door | pintu | lāan | pintu
Ladder | tangga | tangku |
Bed | tampat tidor | penindok |
Mat | tikar | tikai | alik
Box | peti | peti |
Road | jalan | jalai |
Bridge | jambatan | jamban |
Spear | tombak | sankoh | relis
Sword | pedang | pedang |
Chopping knife | parang | duku | basi
Boat | prahu | bangkong | prauh
Canoe | sampan | bidok | bidup
Spirit | antu | antu |
Man | orang laki laki | orang laki | ber bakar
Woman | perampuan | indu | berbeneh
Husband | laki | laki |
Wife | bini | bini | arineh
Father | bapa | apai | amah
Mother | ama | indai | indu
Grandfather | nenek | aki, nineh | piang
Child | anak | anak |
Old | tuah | inai, tuai |
Young | muda | muda |
Boy | budak | biak |
Girl | anak dara | n’dun |
BALAU NAMES.
MEN. | WOMEN.
Linggi | Rata
Jelapiang | Salima
Nangga | Salam
Moramat | Saripa
Janting | Itau
Anggi | Sarika
Musit | Chula
Jisang | Rabi
APPENDIX C.
LANGUAGES OF TRIBES BETWEEEN THE REJANG AND BARAM.
------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------
---- | MILANAU. | KAYAN. | PAKATAN.
------------------+------------------+------------------+------------------
Straight | tigah | tuto | mato’
Crooked | piko, pikok | kauwi | kaliong kaliong
Square | ampat papak, pak | tepahak | lipat, liñgit
Round | gulong | biliong | atup
Long | lalau | aruh | ijé
Broad | aiyoh | berang | uñgei
Thick | kapal, kapan | kapan | kapan
Thin | dipis | ngipi | meliring
Deep | tumal, tebun | delum | melolom
Shallow | té | |
High | regau | bo | mauo
Short | dadit, kadit | biek | ujo
Without | auīr, kauīr | auwa | api, lipo
Within | wang, kadalum | amin | lalum
Light (in weight) | paiying | nian | melang
Heavy | bahat | bahat | mawat
Above | amau, mamau | usun | mau o
Below | ibah | idah | lué
Behind | buta, likut | baleh | api lauo
Before | jau-ai | talatan | tobata
Between | patas, gahut | hang | gat
Here | kidé, idai | teni | iti
There | kidūn, inun | tenan | iri
Far | mĕjū | su | moju
Near | segah | jelang | deteri manjo
Where | gua-an, hahn | santeno | pahen
At | gnau | | to
To | tūgūn | |
From | kūman, keman | man | to maia
All | gruh | limlin | hing gaké
Many | dida, bunah | mahum | uñgat
Few | jimit, sisit | okedok | mari
Small | gomit, sisit | ok | isi
Large | ay-ung, ayoh | ayah | uñgei
Like | sama, pesoh | chepiah | jabalu
Now | ahālu, nahu | krehini | ah
When | pidang | heran | lipa
Then | sunĭ | | para
To-morrow | lesung, laumasuk | jima | lamasok
Yesterday | sabi, lau mai | dahalum | alommalom
Old | melai, garu-puhun| lumeh | matui
New | jakin, uba | maharing | uwa
Motion | lakau | tepanau |
Slow | melai, luhuei | tepat | malia
Rapid | jūk, seli | nian | maro
Strike | pŭr | nukal | bek
Break | pesa’, pelak | brong | mota
Open | kab, ukah | lueh | ukah
Shut | tabūn | kap | jinut
Lift | makat | amju | akat
Throw | galang, barang | buht | ting
Wet | basah | basah | basoh
Dry | mūang, bahung | megaang | adang
Sound | señgau, serau | nau | hau
Light | tahung | malah dan | alau
Darkness | padam, kelam | ledam | sigalup
Black | bilam | pitam | horommorom
White | putih | borah | buak
Red | sat, sak | belah | arang arang
Yellow | kunyit | jemit |
Blue | biru | using |
Green | gadong | gadong | ujang arang arang
Country | tăd | | bila
Earth | tanah | tanah | tanoh
Stone | sanau, bato | bato | bato
Gold | mas | mah |
Silver | perak | perak |
Iron | bisi | titau | malat
Mountain | tugong | ngalang | tong
Valley | deta, pating | akeng | gatong
Cave | lubong | lubang bok | bobang
Hill | tagah | ngalang ok | tong malui
Plain | lalang | nha | data
Island | sah | busong | palui
Water | anūm | atah | danum
Sea | dāt, sabung | ngeoh | kala
River | sungei | ungah | bila
Wind | pañgai, bario | bahoi | balu
Hurricane | buñgas, bario | mengah | balu makokop
| lagah | |
Cloud | mabat, duruoh | langat | aun
Rainbow | iang añgan, | lingyating | bukang
| jajiling | |
Rain | ujan | usan | langut
Lightning | skilit | kilat | bali
Thunder | litū, prah | barareh | bali
Day | lau | dau | alau
Night | lemui | malam | malam
Morning | tumu, masu | niup | alau
Sun | matalau | matadau | matalau
Noon | kedang lau | dau nagrang | alau marapuru
Sky | lanyit | lungit | lañgit
Moon | bulan | bulan | bulan
Star | betohun | lauing | letuen
Hot | lesu | anit dau | melahu
Fire | apui | apui | apui
Burn | tinū, sidap | tutong | asik
Smoke | anūs, tugun | lesun | sun
Ashes | abo | aroh | au
Cocoa-nut | nyoh | nyoh | tuporu
Plantain | balak | uteh | jusang
Paddy | padai | pareh | pari
Rice | bahar | baha | benai
Pumpkin | labo | tinun aloh | entakei
Yam | obei | oveh | ubi
Seed | bahah | wang | bah
Tree | basoh | keioh | karing
Root | akai | akah | oka
Leaf | duhun | itun | daun
Flower | bedak | idang | buñgo
Fruit | buah | buah | buah
Raw | tah | letah | ata
Ripe | sak | sak | ak
Tiger | koleh | koleh |
Bear | makop | bruang | makup
Horse | kudah | |
Buffalo | karbau | kaleo | karbau
Cow | sapi marau | |
Goat | muh | kadeng |
Dog | asau | aso | asu
Hog | babui | baboi | bauwi
Monkey | bedok | kuyal | kiat
Cat | ngau | cheng | maiau
Mouse | belabau | | chit
Rat | belabau pagong | lavoh | belauo
Squirrel | bap | telih | sirik
Bird | manōk | manok | purit
Domestic fowl | siaū | niap | siap
Duck | itek | |
Kite | kimīū kang | niau | niau
Sparrow | gerit | tegih | purit
Swallow |kalau pisan, salar| | belini
Crow | kah | | purit aromarom
Cage | sakar | bakah | lakit
Snake | dīpa, peñganan | nipa | asei
Frog | bekūrek, wak | wak | buja
Fish | jen | masih | bajo
Crab | gatām, tekeh | | nitiké
Prawn | padak | orang | suat
Butterfly | belabāng, | |
| selababang | |
Bee | añge’, señgut | iñgat | siñgut
Fly | lañg au | lañgo | lañgo
Mosquito | krias | amak | niamok
Louse | kutaū | butoh | kutu
Ant | udap | kalirang | ula
Spider | berūmong, | kalawa |
| belakawa | |
Horn | ohun | hoñg | uwong
Tail | ikui | ekoh | ikui
Feather | bulau | buloh | bulu
Wings | kalapayang, bebui| kapayang | ilap
Egg | telūi | teloh | telur
Honey | jūrū | telang | danum siñgut
Wax | lilin | laha | lilin
Body | apa, biuh | luhong | kuñga
Head | ūlaū | kahong | ulok
Hair | bok | bok | belutok
Face | jaueī | nang | ba
Ear | liñga | apang | bakit
Eye | mata | matang | mato
Nose | udong | arong | urong
Cheek | pipei | bah | ba
Mouth | bah | | bawa
Lip | bujul, bujun | | liñgil bawa
Tooth | nyipan | ipan | lañgoli
Tongue | jilah | jilah | jela
Hand | agam, pang | usuh | loñgo
Finger | brañgau | ikeng | tuju
Thumb | brañgau poh | ikeng ayah | inan tuju
Nail | silau | eloh | ilu
Belly | nai, tenaheng | butit | puong
Foot | betis, pahuh | udak | bati
Bone | tulang | tulang |
Flesh | sīn | sin | oyi
Skin | kulit | kulit |
Fat | maniak, piong | madong | mapiong
Lean | mās megaeh | niyang | me’
Blood | darah | niyang dah | dah
Saliva | lujah | lurah | danum jela
Sweat | sinak | umah | peloi
Hard | saiēk | maing | makokop
Soft | dūmūi, | lemah | meluko
| lemeik | |
Hot | lasu | lasu | lua
Cold | siñgūr, | ngam | mañgen merarum
| siñganiam | |
Thirsty | krañg | laveh | agang
Hungry | jilă | laoh | mitil
Sour | masam | masam | masom
Sweet | ngialiang | leng | mamis
Bitter | byis | paieh | mapeit
Smell | būn | bun | bun
Fragrant | jueh bun | boaram (bauarum) | jan bun
Stinking | bun madam | laiyu bun | jot bun
Sick | băjī, madam | prah | maparo
Dead | kabas, kebeh | mateh | makabo
Drink | tūtang | kuman | niup
See | nădīang, | ngiang | mipo
| ngiang | |
Laugh | paglam | keseng | mohong
Weep | nañgi | nañgi |
Kiss | anak, manak | marak | meñgaruk
Speak | oba, pubah | tanaran | pelabu
Be silent | kadap, sarawan | meloh | koring
Hear | tuyang, ta’ah | ngring | kariñgo
Lift | makh | juh | akat
Walk | sibal, lakau | panoh | makiap
Run | buraū | lap | mago
Stand | kadang | bitih | manakaring
Sit | kudu | teñgoh | muruk
Climb | tīkūd, nikad | nakar | menikit
Sleep | tedūi, melut | tuduh | matarui
Awake | pega, makat | maaur | matia
Recollect | iñgat | tedoh | katom
Know | tehu | jaieh | matiwo
Forget | lelū | adoh | jakunak
Ask | klabaū, nalabau | metang | jajam ipo
Answer | ūlang, mulang | niuneh | tañgok
Understand | tahau | jahm |
Yes | iyu, niuh | aieh | oso
No | năbe, enam | jan | di
Beautiful | dau, jiuh wah | saiyu | jan
Ugly | batau jahat, | jahak | jut bawa
| jehek wah |
Pleased | luh, agen | ikum | luko
Sorry | susah | brah |
Afraid | mamo, bout | takut | maut
Shame | mīah | tahih | meñgala
Love | tilang | masih | ilo
Hate | bĕsī | jan ikum | maparu
Anger | mūras | busak | lohoi
Wish | luh | ikum | lu
Right | tiga | marong | mato
Wrong | salah | jan marong | mela
Good | jīā | saiyu | jan
Bad | jehek | jahak | jut
True | atang, senau | lan | mato
False | pemūde, selbeh | | sakwe’
Wait | ati, lulau | kavoh | iyo
Come | lebib, kahai | nenih | labi
Go | mule, luwat | kakah | ane
Meet | batopoh | sabong | pasăba
Hide | plim, sihok | nyok | molim
Search | iniang, nginoh | ilu | ipo
Find | kena | | ala
Give | bih | maieh | tuja
Take | alap, apan | apih | apen
Bring | īgīh | grih | itong
Take away | igih, agah | grih kap | apen
Kill | benūh | itih | kabo
I | ako’ | akui | hok
Mine | ako bin | akui pun | hok laket
Thou | kawan, ikah | kalunan | ko
Thine | ikah bin | hih pun | ko laket
He, she, it. | idūn, ngiah | ikah | ero
His, &c. | ngiah bin | ikah itih pun | ero laket
We (_inclusive or | telut | itam | ta
absolute_) | | |
Our (_inclusive_) | telut bin | itam pun | ta laket
We (_exclusive or | kami | kami | kai
relative_) | | |
Our (_exclusive_) | kami pat | kami pun | kai laket
You | ikah | ikah |
Your | ikah bin | |
They | sepat | |
Their | sepat bin | |
This | īh | ini | muto
That | idun | inéh | mona
Which | han | inoh |
Who | iya saih | inoh ik | hi
What | wanau | inoh | hawa
Food | kūn | kanih | ñgoku
Rice boiled | naseh | kanan | asi
(_nasi_) | | |
Sugar | gula | jatan |
Oil | nīūh | telang, usun | nio
Milk | soh | | u
Flesh | sin | nahang | oi
Boil | isak, midah | | taring
Broil | sirai, bahang | sehe | aling
Salt | siah | niah | ijo
Clothes | asak, sungup | davan | oñgup
Earring | tading | isan | subang
Chawat | bai | bah | bai
House | lebūh | umah | lau labu
Wood | kayo | kayoh |
Posts | dirih | jeheh | patun
Door | abusukud | bataman | kobuko
Ladder | tagá | sahn | ojan
Bed | kadau tudūi | tilong | lakid maturui
| ideh | |
Mat | jalī | brat | jálí
Box | kaban | peteh |
Road | arū, sawah | ulan | anun
Bridge | jaman | palang | ojan
Bow | | |
Arrow | | |
Spear | bakit | bakir | bañgoñg
Sword | pedang | pedang |
Chopping knife | tui, barogah | malat | butut, garoja
Boat | tamui | |
Canoe | tūnan, salūi | arok | alui
Spirit | taū | toh | otu
Man | tulai, tanawan | lakeh | ale
Woman | marau | doh | oro
Husband | lai, sawah | lakeh doh | alé
Wife | maraū | doh dah | oro
Father | ama’ | ameh | aman
Mother | ina’ | indeh | inan
Grandfather | ipo’, akeh | ukuh | aki
Child | ugut | apang |
Son | anak lai | anak lakeh | anak alé
Daughter | anak marau | anak doh | anak oro
Brother | janak lai, tatat | aren lakeh | naken alé
| lai | |
Sister | janak marau, | aren dob | naken oro
| tatat marau | |
Old | lake’ | dab muku | toké
Young | jemanak | dah niam | iyong
Boy | jemanak lai | makeh | iyong isi
Girl | jemanak lūas | nyen doh | iyong oro
| _or_ marau | |
------------------+------------------+------------------+-----------------
I must draw attention to the letter represented by ng in English. In
pronouncing the words in these vocabularies, it must be remembered
that, whether marked or not, the Malay letter has the sound of the ng
in “singing,” and that the g must not be pronounced with the following
syllable.
APPENDIX D.
LANGUAGES OF NORTHERN BORNEO.
------------------+-------------------+------------------+------------------
---- | IDA’AN. | BISAYA. | ADANG (MURUT).
------------------+-------------------+------------------+------------------
Numerals:-- | | |
One | iso, san | | sabulang
Two | duo | | dua
Three | telo | | telo
Four | apat | | ampat
Five | limo | | lima
Six | anam | | anam
Seven | turo | | turo
Eight | walo | | walu
Nine | siam | | ewa
Ten | opod | | pulo
Eleven | opod dam iso | | pelud cha
Twenty | duo nopod | | pelud dua
A hundred | atus, san atus | |
| | |
Day | adau, tadau | adau | chaw
Night | sedap | mentiong potong | rachăm
Morning | suab nakapia | bukatadau | kamuka
Evening | tawañg-an | |
Yesterday | kăniab | kiniab | seladi
To-morrow | suab | suab | napā
Day after do. | suab dina | |
Light | okalub | miang | machang
Name | naran | |
Use | guno (muni) | |
The same | bagal | |
Food | takanan | akanakan |
Rice | ogas, wagas | nubur (nasi) |
Kaladi | gual | |
Yam | kaso | |
Kribang | wei | |
Fowl | manok | | lahal
A cock | piak | |
Salt | silan | uson |
Plaintain | punti | | ba’ong
Cocoa-nut | piasau | | bua butan
Flesh | ansi | ansi | wang
Fat | lambon, lunak | lunok | lumo’
Tobacco | sigup | |
Fish | sada | sada | lawid
Arrack | {tuak bahar | |
| {talak tinamul | |
Padi | parei | parei | pade’
Milk | gatas | |
Oil | umau | umau |
Water | waig | aig | pa
Fire | apui | apui | apui
Smoke | lisun | lisun | rapun
Ashes | ahun | a’u |
Egg | antalun | lampuni |
Price | arga | |
Charcoal | tahun | |
Tree | guas, puhn kaya | puhn | pohun
Branch | rahan | |
Leaf | rahun | daun | daun
Flower | usak | usak | usak
Bark | kulit | |
Root | gamut | amut | war
Gutta | pulut | |
Fruit | uah | buah | buah
Seed | linso | umi | ilong
Plants | tanaman | |
Pitcher do. | kaku anga | |
Rattan | tuei | |
Bambu | ragup | |
“Batang” trunk | wabañgan | |
Moss | rañgilut | |
Thorn | rugi | |
Pinang | lakang | |
Young do. | lugus | |
Country | pagun | pagun | bawang
Earth | tanah | tanah | tanah
Stone | watu | batu | batu
River | bawang | bawang | pa
Mountain | bukid | bukid | turud dita
Valley | parong | | aroi
Cave | luang | luang | lobang
Plain | kapayan | gana | balad
Sea | rahat | laut | pa nawap
Island | pulau | pulau | penulong
Wind | ibut | loñgos | bario
Storm | tañgus | |
Rainbow | meluntong | melintong | takang
Rain | rasam | rasam | mudan
Lightning | kadumaat | kaduma’at, | lalam
| | longganit |
Thunder | garut | sengkarut, lalam | lugo
Sun | matadau | mata-adau | chaw
Sand | oggis | |
Moon | ulan | bulan | bulan
Stars | rambituan | bintang | gatuan
Road | ralan | |
Forest | talunan | |
Lake | ranau | |
Deer | tambang | tambang | priau
Bear | buhuang | |
Horse | kuda | |
Buffalo | karbau | |
Cow cattle | sapi | |
Goat | kambing | |
Dog | asu | asu | okaw
Hog | bakas | bau-hi | barak
Wild hog | | ramo | baka’
Cat | tuñg-au | using | kuching
Monkey | kara | kara | koyad
Rat | ikus | tikus |
Snake | lanut | lanut | mampa’
Butterfly | galamambang | kalabang | berăpang
Beetle | anggiloung | |
Domestic bee | kalulut | |
Bee | tañgiñgat | mutit | sikan
Mosquito | sisit | kalias | tokong
Sandfly | | | ritak
Ant | kilau | kilau | dra
Horn | sungu | | nga
Hair | ulu | |
Tail | tiku | iku | iyor
Feather | alad | |
Egg | antalu | lampuni |
Honey | paha | leng | duro
Wings | tulut | alan | ilad
Half | siñggaran | |
Trade | bilian | |
A “dustar” | sigar | |
House | lamin, walei | alei |
Wood | seduan | |
Posts | trigi | rigi |
“Ataps” (mats) | tahap | |
Door | sesuanan | kārbon |
Ladder | tukat | tukad |
Window | tatiga-an | |
Fireplace | dapu-an | |
Bed (sleeping mat)| tikam modop | lubok |
Mat | tikam | ikam |
“Priok” pot | kuran | |
Hut | sulap | |
A measure | tuñgap | |
Pillow | roei | |
White man | kambura | |
Man | kadayan | mianei |
People | suang | |
A man | kusei, ngulun | mianei |
Woman | tandu | kimo |
Husband | kusei | ano’ |
Wife | sawa, sau | sau-o |
Father | ama | yama |
Mother | ina | indu |
Grandfather | adu aki | yaki |
Grandmother | adu | |
Child | anak | |
Virgin | samandak | |
Kiss | siñgud | narokadong |
Cloth | umut | |
“Chawat” | santut | sirot |
Spear | andus | bangkau |
“Parang” | dañgol | madi |
Knife | peis | |
Shield | taming | |
Sword | pedang | |
A spirit | ragun | lematei |
Iron | besi | |
Brass wire | saring | |
“Bidang” | ganap | |
Earring | anting anting | |
Needle | dalat | |
Jacket | rasuk-garong | |
Sheet | ramut | |
Body | inan | inan | burur
Head | ulu | ulu | ulu
Hair | tabuk | abuk | bok
Face | turas | rabas | monong
Ear | teliñgo | teliñgo |
Eye | mato | mato |
Eyebrow | kirei | |
Nose | tadong | adong |
Mouth | kabang | kabañg | tang
Lip | munong | |
Tooth | nipun | ipun | lipan
Tongue | lelah | lelah | lebah
Cheek | piñgas | ilan | piñg-it
Neck | lio | |
Shoulder | liawa | |
Armpit | pakilok | |
Hand | palad | loñg-on | tichu, palad
Finger | tentuduk | | buatichu
Thumb | malahing | indu loñgon | tuju tapo
Nail | sandulu | siñg-ilu | selon
Breasts | susu | |
Belly | tenai | tenai | batak
Navel | pusat | |
“Kamaluan” m | tali | |
“Kamaluan” f | tato tata’ | |
Thigh | paw | |
Knee | atud | |
Calf | dakud | |
Foot | lapak | atis | palad kukud
Bone | tulang | |
Blood | raha | ra |
Flesh | ansi | ng’giri | wang
Fat | lambon | lunok | lumo
Skin | kulit | kubil |
Saliva | luja | jimpi | aka
Sweat | tumus | umos | pana
Elbow | siku | |
Fathom | dapo | |
String, &c. | toggis | |
To roll up | lapiau | |
Cover, lid | sompon | |
Thief | penakau | |
Good | rañggoi | munsi |
Bad | arahat | rat |
Right | rañggoi, ingka | bunoi |
Wrong | sala’ | |
Tall | kawas | |
Long | naro | auad | rawir
Short | sariba | riba | benua
Sweet | momis | mamis |
Nice | wasi | |
Bitter | pait | pait |
Sharp | taram | |
Blunt | amo, katagu | |
Old (tuah) | lai-ing (lai-ag?) | kako |
Young | mulok | tari |
Old (lama) | laid, kilo | laid, matuo | maun
New | wago | ago | baro
Hot | lasu | lasu |
Cold | sagid | sagit | tenab
Wet | eiapas | masah | bah
Dry | magintu | kala’ | takaring
True | ranggoi | bunor |
False | udut | bawa |
Ugly | arahat | rat |
Pretty | osonang | monsei |
Large | gaio, kagaio | gaio | raya
Small | koré | diok | madi
Heavy | magat, bagat | magat | brat
| [wagat, ogat | |
Light | gan | gan | rahan
All | timong | sañgai | abiabi
Many | gamo, sapo | suang | mulamula
Few | koré-koré | diok | sesut
Like | bagal (“mirad”) | sama paras | pahad lea
Different | suei | |
Slow | boei | boei | dadan
Rapid | gompas | deros | mauwar
Heavy as rain | gompas | |
Thirsty | tuhan | kalalio |
Hungry | losun | mitil |
Striking | buntong | |
Sick | sagid | duol |
Dead | matei | matei |
Sorry | susah | gagau |
Angry | magulau | siau |
Straight | tulid | tulid | sŭn
Crooked | brakilong | belengkok | kelo’
Square | apat, persagi | ampat pensagi | lepingpat
Round | urud | | taburor
Broad | kalab | lebah | raya
Thick | kapah | kapah | kapal
Thin | mipis | nipis | nipi
Shallow | | | tutun
Deep | ralam | lalum |
Black | eitom | hitom | mitam
White | purak | purak | buda
Red | ragang | ragang | sia
Yellow | silau | chilau | berar
Sore | owal | |
Raw | matah’ | matah | matah
Ripe | mansak | mansak | lak
Dirty | amut | |
Clean | aro’k | |
Hard | kadau | kodau | tua
Soft | lumi | lembut | leia
Enough | ganap | |
“Korang” wanting | amo, karuñgut | |
Pregnant | betian | |
Slippery | lamau, lamo | |
Clever | tutun | |
Quick | jajaran | |
Right | ganan | |
Left | gibang | |
Rough | sanilu | |
Bold and brave | siau | |
I or we | yeho, yai dugu | jami |
You | dia | ikan |
He or they | idia | iyo |
Who | sei | iseo |
What | nono | a’an |
This | iti | tio |
That | ina | sulo |
Here | diti | ditio | dini
There | ilo, dilo | sulu | dŭng-a
Where | nambo | domboi | dapei-a
Far | sadu | sado | madi
Near | sămak, sămok | somok | monăng
Without | saribau | ribau | lemela’
Within | saralam | selalam | metakap
Above | kawas | ribau | duñgeilun
Below | sariba | sua | meilena
Behind | likud | likud | katad
Before | dibrus | derabas | lepa monong
Between | palatan | | rang
To | ka | |
Previously | gahulu | |
From | masunut | |
Not yet | eiso po | |
Yes | aw | awe |
No | eiso | ŭnjob |
Now | kirakira | kila | năpŭ
When | sañgira | memburo | idan
Afterwards | turi, tahuri | turi | muchi
In this way | inka’, pinka’ | |
In that way | inka-i | |
How many | sangkora, gamo | |
Presently | ruhei | |
More | aro | |
To eat | mengakan | |
To see | magintong | lintong |
To drink | menginum | |
To laugh | magirak | girak |
To weep | miad | giad |
To kiss | maniñgud | narokadong |
To speak | boras | betuntut |
To be silent | mada | gorom |
To hear | makinañgo | koroñgo |
To lift | kakatan | teñgañgo |
To walk | manau | manau |
To run | magidu | midu |
To stand | mindahau | kakat |
To sit | mirikau | koko |
To climb | midakud | nakod |
To sleep | modop | modop |
To awake | tumanag, tuñgag | tidong |
To recollect | insam | |
To know | pandei, mila | pandei |
To forget | aliwan | kalamuan |
To ask for | makiano | |
To wait | magandad | ninteo |
To come | sikei | mikot |
To go | mañgai, pagidu | midu |
To meet | bertemu | |
To hide | lisuk | mensusut |
To search | magi-om | yumo |
To give | noan | menak |
To bring | oito | mito |
To kill | sañgat, meniangat | metai-o |
To wound | suhat | |
To sow | memambri | |
To plant | meñgasuk | |
To fight | meñgulan, merasang| |
To trade | berdagang | |
To buy | bili | |
To sell | taranan | |
To cheat | menipu | |
To steal | menakau, menikus | |
To marry | menasawa | |
To bear children | berganak | |
To grow | samuni | |
To shout | meniangkis | |
“Ada” | warah | |
“Habis” | awi, ei, nei | |
To shade | osorong | |
To swim | samadoi | |
To arrive | korokod | |
To wash | miñg isu | |
To bathe | madsiu, padsiu | |
To want | saga | |
Don’t | ada | |
To burn | tutud | |
“He says” | kadsio | |
To play | berunsei | |
To tie | kagus | |
“Gurau” | bersibak | |
“Amput” | berkiu | |
To hug | gapus | |
To lay hold of | migit, makahei | |
To desire | saga’ | |
To return | sagulei | |
To take a wife | kasawa | |
„ husband | memañgat | |
High | | sau-at | dita
To strike | | pudo | mapar
To break | | petul | motul
To open | | bika | ngukab
To shut | | beno | nutub
To lift | | tenañg-o | năkang
To throw | | menokon | mapat
To sound | | katab | buri
Darkness | | potong | racham
Green | | |
Iron | basi | | belawan
Hill | | bukid diok | turud, murud
Hurricane | tañgus | ribut | buri mawar
West | | surapadau |
East | | matadayau |
Cloud | | | laput
Noon | | tampakadau | topud chaw
Sky | | adau |
To burn | tudo | sensuli | menunoh
To smoke | lisun | lisun | rapun
Rice | agas, wagas | agas | brah
Pumpkin | tawadak | | belabu
Yam | kaso | | ubi
Mouse | ikus | | labaw
Squirrel | | niamo |
Bird | | manok | suit
Kite | | kanio | kanio
Sparrow | | pirit | pirit
Swallow | | senkalayang | kalua
Crow | | mangkak | brengkak
Cage | | kuruñgan |
Frog | | sei | sit
Crab | | kuyu | kra
Prawn | | tentudik |
Fly | | pañgat |
Spider | | senkalang |
Wax | | | ulih
Thirsty | | kalalio | pring
Hungry | | mitil | lau
Smell | kiabau | mau |
Fragrant | | munsei |
Stinking | buntong | mutong |
Dead | matei | matei |
Answer | | sumbarau |
Pleased | | nako |
Afraid | | lemakak |
Shame | | mikum |
Love | | ngako |
Hate | | baji |
Wish | | ngako |
Right | | bunor |
Find | | malak |
Take | | lapo |
Boil | | sunsam |
Broil | | sinalau |
Earring | | subang |
Road | | langgaio |
Bridge | | pentaran |
Boat | | padas |
Canoe | | padasdiok |
Son | | mianei |
Daughter | | kimo |
Brother | | sitari |
Sister | | sitari kimo |
Girl | | anak agu |
Shallow (as water)| | | tutun
Tin | | | simara’
Sweet potato | wei | |
Kaladi | gual | |
A cock | piak | |
Ask for | makiano | |
APPENDIX E.
Though this list was given me by an educated Lanun, I doubt whether the
blanks I have left should be filled up with the Malay word, as he said,
because it is very possible that, as he had had little intercourse with
his countrymen for many years, he may have forgotten the words.
--------------+---------------+--------------
---- | MALAY. | LANUN.
--------------+---------------+--------------
Straight | lūrūs | matidu
Crooked | bengkok | becōg
Square | ampat persagi | „
Round | bulat | „
Long | panjang | melendu
Broad | lebar | maulad
Thick | tabal | makapal
Thin | nipis | manipis
Deep | dalam | madalam
High | tiñggi | mapuro
Short | pendek | mababa
Without | deluar | segămau
Within | dedalam | sisedalam
Light (in | riñgan | demaugat
weight) | |
Heavy | brat | maugat
Above | de atas | sekapruan
Below | de bawa | sekababa-an
Behind | de blakañg | selikud
Before | de muka | sesuñguran
Between | antara | „
Here | sini | sika
There | sana | ruka
Far | jauh | muatan
Near | dekat | maubé
Where | mana | autuna
At | de | „
To | ka | a
From | deri | si
All | samoa | lañgunyen
Many | baniak | madākal
Few | sedikit | meitu
Small | kechil | meitu
Large | besar | mala
Like | serūpa | magīsan
Now | sakarañg | amei
When | bila |
Then | kamudien | maŭri
To-morrow | besok | amag
Yesterday | kulmari | dua gua i dĕn
Old | lama | matei dĕn
New | bharu | bagu
Slow | lambat | malūmbat
Rapid | laju | magā-an
Strike | pukul | basal
Break | pechah | maupak
Open | buka |
Shut | tutup |
Lift | angkat | sepūat
Throw | lontar | pelāntig
Wet | basah | moasah
Dry | kring | magañgu
Sound | bunyi | uni
Light | trañg | malīwānug
Darkness | glap | malībutăng
Black | hitam | māhitam
White | putih | maputih
Red | merah | marega
Yellow | kuning | bināning
Blue | biru |
Green | ijau |
Country | negri | iñgud
Earth | tanah | lupa
Stone | batu | watu
Gold | mas | bulāwan
Silver | perak |
Iron | besi | putau
Mountain | gunong | palau
Valley | lembah |
Cave | guah | pasu
Hill | bukit | gunoñg
Plain | padang |
Island | pulau |
Water | ayer | aig
Sea | laut | kaludan
River | sungei |
Air | udara |
Wind | añgin | ūndū
Hurricane | ribut |
North | utara |
West | barat |
South | salātan |
East | timor |
Cloud | awan |
Rainbow | palañgi | datu bagua
Rain | ujan |
Lightning | kilat |
Thunder | tagar | gūntūr
Day | hari | gau-ī
Night | malam | magabī
Morning | siañg | mapīta
Sun | matahari |
Noon | tañgah hari |
Sky | lañgit |
Moon | bulan | ulan
Star | bintang | bituan
Hot | panas | mai-au
Fire | api | apūī
Burn | bakar | pegīau (ăngka)
Smoke | asap | bŭl
Ashes | abu |
Cocoa-nut | kalapa | nīūg
Plantain | pisang | saging
Paddy | padi | ilau
Rice | bras | bĕgas
Pumpkin | labū |
Yam | ubi |
Seed | biji |
Tree | puhn |
Root | akar |
Leaf | daun | raun
Flower | buñga |
Fruit | buah |
Raw | mantah | mélau
Ripe | masak | mialütū
Elephant | gajah |
Tiger | rimau |
Deer | rusa | seladŭng
Bear | bruang |
Horse | kuda |
Buffalo | karbau |
Cow | sapi betina | sapi babai
Goat | kambing |
Dog | anjing | asu
Hog | babi | babūi
Monkey | munyit |
Cat | kuching | bédŏng
Mouse |(kechil) tikus | ria (maitū)
Rat (besai) | tikus | dumpau
Squirrel | tupei |
Bird | burong | papanok
Domestic fowl | ayam |
Duck | itek |
Kite | alang |
Sparrow | pipit | papanok
Swallow | layang layang | lelāyang
Crow | gagak |
Cage | sangkar | kuroñgan
Snake | ular | nipai
Frog | katak | babak
Fish | ikan | seda
Crab | katam | leăgan
Prawn | udang |
Coral | karang buñga |
Butterfly | kūpū |
Bee | lebah | tabūan
Fly | lalat |
Mosquito | niamok |
Louse | kuku |
Ant | semūt |
Spider | laba laba |
Horn | tandok |
Tail | ikur | ikug
Feather | bulu | bumbul
Wings | sayap |
Egg | telur | urak
Honey | madu |
Wax | lilin | taru
Body | badan | gināu-a
Head | kapala | ulu
Hair | rambut | bok
Face | muka | biyas
Ear | teliñga |
Eye | mata |
Nose | idong | ngirong
Cheek | pipi |
Mouth | mulut | ngari
Lip | bibir |
Tooth | gigi | ngipan
Tongue | ledah |
Hand | tañgan | lima
Finger | jari | kamai
Thumb | ibu jari |
Nail | kuku |
Belly | prūt | tian
Foot | kaki | ay
Bone | tulang | tulun
Flesh | daging | sapu
Skin | kulit |
Fat | gumok | masăbūa
Lean | krus | megăsā
Blood | dara | rugu
Saliva | ludah |
Sweet | peluh | ating
Hard (as a | kras | matagas
[stone) | |
Soft | lunak | melemak
Hot | panas | mai-aū
Cold | sejūk | matănggan
Thirsty | aus | kaur
Hungry | lapar | megūtan
Sour | masam |
Sweet | manis |
Bitter | pait |
Smell | bau |
Fragrant | harum | mapīa bau
Stinking | anyir | maratai bau
Sick | sakit | masakit
Dead | mati | matai
Eat | makan | kuman
Drink | minum |
See | lihat | ilai
Laugh | tertawa |
Weep | tañgis | semăgŭd
Kiss | chium |
Speak | kata | taroh
Be silent | diam | gūmănŭg
Hear | duñgar | makănŭg
Lift | angkat | sepuat
Walk | jalan | lumalakan
Run | lari | melagui
Stand | dīri | tumatindug
Sit | duduk | muntud
Climb | panjat | pamusug
Sleep | tidor | tūmūrūg
Awake | bañgūn |
Recollect | kanal |
Know | tau | kataūan
Forget | lupa | kalipatan
Ask | preksa |
Answer | saut | sŭmbŭg
Understand | mengarti | matau
Yes | iya |
No | tidak | da
Beautiful | elok | mapia
Ugly | rupa jahat | marāta
Pleased | suka | mesūap
Sorry | susah |
Afraid | takut | kaluk
Shame | malu | kaya
Love | kasūka-an | masūat
Hate | binchi |
Anger | marah | membuñgūt
Wish | man | kiūgan
Right | betul | metidū
Wrong | salah | masalah
Good | baik | mapīa
Bad | jahat | marāta
True | benar |
False | dusta | būkŭg
Wait | nanti | gūmaganŭg
Come | datang | makōma
Go | pergi | sŭmong
Meet | temu |
Hide | bunyi(s)tapok | tapok
Search | chari | pengileī
Find | dapat | makūa
Give | kasih | begai
Take | ambil | kūa
Bring | bawa | sepūat
Take away | kaluarkan | gūmaū
Kill | bunoh |
I | aku | sakŭn
Mine | aku punia | quon sakŭn
Thou | angkau | sekā
Thine | angkau punia | quonka
He, she, it | diya | gīa
His, &c. | diya punia | quon gīa
We (_inclusive| | sakŭn
or absolute_)| |
Our | | quon akŭn
(_inclusive_)| |
We (_exclusive| | sakŭn
or relative_)| |
Our | | quon akŭn
(_exclusive_)| |
You | angkau | sekā
Your | angkau punia | quon kā
They | diya | gīa
Their | diya punia | quon gīa
This | ini |
That | itu |
Which | iang |
Who | siapa | antāwa
What | apa | antūna
Food | makān-an |
Rice, boiled | nasi | băgās
Sugar | gula |
Oil | miniak | lanah
Milk | susu |
Flesh | daging | sapu
Boil | rebus |
Broil | goring |
Salt | garam | timūs
Clothes | pakei-an |
Earring | krabu |
Chawat | chawat | bilad
House | rumah | wali
Wood | kayu |
Posts | tiang (rumah) |
Door | pintu |
Ladder | tangga |
Bed | tumpat tidor | tūrūgan
Mat | tikar | dŭmpas
Box | peti | kaban
Road | jalan | malakau
Bridge | jambātan |
Bow | panah |
Arrow | anak panah |
Spear | tombak | bangkau
Sword | pedang |
Chopping-knife| parang | puduk
Boat | prahu | awang
Canoe | sampan |
Spirit | hantu |
Man | lakilaki | mama
Woman | perampuan | babai
Husband | laki | karūma
Wife | bini | karūma
Father | bapa | ama
Mother | ma | ina
Grandfather | nenek |
Child | anak | wata
Son | anak laki- | wata mama
| laki |
Daughter | anak per- | wata babai
| ampuan |
Brother | sudara laki- | pegari mama
| laki |
Sister | sudara per- | pegari babai
| ampuan |
Old | tuah | lukus
Young | muda | meñguda
Boy | budak | wata
Girl | anak dara | raga
THE END.
London: Printed by SMITH, ELDER & CO.,
Little Green Arbour Court, Old Bailey, E.C.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Trusan, means a passage connecting one stream with another, or a
short cut joining two reaches of the same stream.
[2] I may remark here that the map I had with me had been constructed
during my former journeys, and I verified it as I proceeded.
[3] The Murut tribe, who formerly inhabited the Madalam branch of the
Limbang, and occupied the country round the base of the mountain of
Molu.
[4] A pikul is 133⅓ lb.
[5] A gantang is six pints.
[6] Gray shirtings.
[7] There are two ranges, which explain why I was so puzzled by the
different appearances presented by these mountains. In fact, it was
only afterwards I discovered that in ascending the Trunan we had got
under the “_child_ of Molu” as it is called by the Malays; had we
continued ascending the Madalam, we should have found ourselves under
the great peak.
[8] The best kinds are Timbaran and Damuan.
[9] _Journal of the Indian Archipelago_, vol. vi. page 562.
[10] I think it very probable that he meant that Andrew was the name of
the captain, and that he was one of the crew of _Maria Frederica_,
whose capture is referred to farther on.
[11] This horrible story was originally told us by Mr. Wyndham, but I
made many subsequent inquiries, and had every particular of the story
confirmed by trustworthy native authority. A man named Si Bungkul, who
was a captive at Tungku at the time, told me he saw an English captain
buried up to his waist, and that an elderly Lanun chief, called Rajah
Muda, who was famous for his long beard, walked up to him, and with one
blow cleft him from the shoulder to the side with his kempilan or heavy
Lanun sword.
[12] I may notice that many of the under estimates of the population
of this city arise from reckoning the houses at two thousand, and
multiplying that number by five, as the average of a family. But in
Brunei this system will not apply, as to test it, we have made above
a hundred inquiries of different men, as to the amount of inhabitants
in each of their houses, and the highest was the sultan, with seventy
in his palace, while the lowest was seven in a small fisherman’s hut.
I think in placing the average at fifteen, and reducing the number of
houses, I am understating the population, which is considered by many
to exceed forty thousand.
Transcriber’s Notes:
1. Obvious printers’, punctuation and spelling errors have been
corrected silently.
2. Where hyphenation is in doubt, it has been retained as in the
original.
3. Some hyphenated and non-hyphenated versions of the same words have
been retained as in the original.
4. Italics are shown as _xxx_.
5. Bold print is shown as =xxx=.
6. Superscripts are represented using the caret character, e.g. D^r. or
X^{xx}.
*** End of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "Life in the forests of the Far East (Vol. 2 of 2)" ***