Part 6

The island of Borneo, throughout the whole of the N. E. coast, is, with few exceptions, a low land, covered with jungle; but so beautifully verdant does it appear when viewed from some distance, that you would be led to suppose that it was widely cultivated. This idea is, however, soon dispelled on a near approach, when you discover the rich groups of acacias, palms, pandani, and numerous trees as yet unknown, so luxuriant in themselves, but forming one entangled mass, alike impenetrable to European or native. What, in the distant view, we fancied a verdant meadow, where we might relax from our long confinement, and amuse ourselves with recreation, now proved to be ranges of long damp grass, interspersed with swamps, and infested with venomous snakes. In short, I never yet was on a coast which, on arriving on it, promised so much, and, on landing, caused such a series of disappointments to those who love to ramble about, than the coast of Borneo. To the naturalist, however, confined as he is to the shelving beach, there is ample food for employment and research: the island abounds in novel objects of natural history, both in the animal and vegetable kingdom.

Nothing certain is as yet ascertained relative to the interior of this immense island, if island it can with propriety be called. From the accounts of the natives (which, however, must be received with due caution), it consists of a large plain, devoid of jungle, and inhabited by cannibals. Two adventurous Dutchmen have latterly set off from Pontiana, the Dutch settlement, on an excursion into the interior; but it is doubtful if they succeed, where so many others have already failed.

Borneo has but small elevation for so large an island; in the immediate vicinity of Keeney Ballu the country is hilly, but by far the greatest portion of Borneo is but a few feet above the level of the sea. Keeney Ballu is the highest mountain in the island,--its height is estimated at 14,000 feet or more,--and it can be seen at 150 miles distant on a very clear day. It is very singular that there should be a mountain of so great a height rising from an island of otherwise low land. Near Sarawak there is mountainous country, where live the Dyaks, previously described, and a mountain of the name of Santabong, which has already been made mention of. On the S. E. coast of the island we saw no elevation of land of any consequence. I have given a drawing of the mountain of Keeney Ballu, distant forty miles. At this distance, with the aid of the glass, you may perceive the numerous cascades which fall from its summit in every direction. The Dyaks of Borneo imagine that a lake exists at the top of this mountain, and that it is to be their receptacle after death.

As the island is in most parts a flat and marshy jungle, extending about 200 miles inland, and the rivers are not rapid, although numerous, it would be presumed, especially as the dews of the night are very heavy, that the island would be fatal to Europeans. Such, however, proved not to be the case. During our repeated visits to the island (a period of nearly two years), we only lost one man, by a most imprudent exposure to the night air, sleeping in an open boat, without the awning being spread, and exposed to a very heavy dew.

Borneo abounds with rivers, some of them very fine, running inland for one or two hundred miles. Most of these rivers have been taken possession of and colonised by the various tribes indigenous to the neighbouring isles and continent, to wit, Arabs, Malays, Illanoans, Bughis, the natives of Celebes, Chinese, &c. The reason for this emigration to Borneo is the protection afforded by these rivers; for as all these tribes live entirely by piracy, they here find a safe retreat for themselves and their vessels. How long ago their settlements may have been first made, or what opposition they may have received from the Dyak aborigines, it is impossible to say; but as most of the head men in Borneo claim to be of Arab descent, it may be presumed that many years must have elapsed since the aboriginal tribes of Dyaks and Dusums were dispossessed of the rivers, and driven into the interior. Of these people I shall speak hereafter; there is no doubt but that they were the original inhabitants of the whole island, and that the various tribes I have mentioned are but colonists for piratical purposes.

These piratical hordes generally infest the high lands upon the shores of these rivers, which are difficult of navigation; and, moreover, from their numerous branches, their resorts are not very easily discovered. These towns are fortified with stockades, guns of various calibre, and the passage up the river defended by booms or piles of timber, which admit of but one narrow passage for their prahus.

It must be understood that these piratical hordes are not only independent of each other, but often at war, in consequence of their spoliations. Some of their chiefs have taken upon them the titles of princes; and one has assumed, as is well known, that of Sultan of Borneo, another of Sooloo,--how far entitled to such a rank it would be difficult to say; but this is certain, that there must be a beginning to every dynasty; and if we trace back far into history, we shall find, both at home and abroad, that most dynasties have had their origin in freebooting on a grand scale,--even the House of Hapsburg itself is derived from no better an origin; and the Sultan of Borneo, whoever he may be, and if a Sultan does exist, some 800 years hence will, by the antiquity of his title, prove his high descent, as the German emperor now does his own.

On the 20th of August we came to an anchor at the mouth of the Sarawak river, where we remained three weeks completing some very important surveys. When our work was done, the captain, accompanied by several officers, went up the river.

On our arrival at Kuchin, we found the Dido corvette, commanded by Captain Keppell, lying abreast of the town. We also found that Kuchin was at present nearly deserted, as the Dido's boats, with the Phlegethon steamer, and all the native war prahus which could be mustered, had proceeded with Mr. Brooke to the Sakarron, a neighbouring river, to punish some of the mixed tribes who had lately been detected in an act of flagrant piracy. On the change of the tide we started for the Sakarron, with the hope of gaining the Dido's boats, and rendering them some assistance. Our men exerted themselves to the utmost; but it requires time to pull eighty miles; and I will therefore, _en voyage_, explain more fully the cause and the object of the expedition.

The river Sakarron, with its tributaries, the Linga and Serebis, have been for a long while in the possession of a proverbial piratical tribe of Malays, governed by chiefs, who are of Arab descent, and much better acquainted with the art of war than those lawless communions are in general. Their towers and fastnesses on the banks of their rivers they have contrived to fortify in a very superior manner. Living wholly by the proceeds of their piratical excursions, and, aware of the efforts made by the European rajah, Mr. Brooke, to put it down, they resolved to take the first opportunity which might offer to show their hostility and contempt to their new-raised enemy. The occasion soon presented itself. Seven of the Kuchin Malays, having ventured in a canoe up the Sakarron river, were all murdered, and their heads cut off, and kept, as usual, as trophies; and the intelligence of this outrage communicated by them to Mr. Brooke, with defiance.

Captain Keppell, of the Dido, had just arrived at Sarawak when this news was brought to Mr. Brooke. Captain Keppell had been sent by Admiral Sir Thomas Cochrane to the island on purpose to look out for pirates, and to destroy them and their nests wherever he could find them. He therefore gladly offered his assistance to Mr. Brooke to punish these murderous wretches; and the Phlegethon steamer coming in while they were preparing for the expedition, was, of course, added to the force employed. This fortunate accession of strength, assisted by all the Malay war boats which Mr. Brooke could muster, enabled them to give an effectual check to a band of pirates, so numerous and so warlike as to have become most formidable. To proceed:--

That night we anchored with the last of the flood at the entrance of the Sakarron. We had great fear, from the intelligence we had received from time to time, from boats we fell in with on our passage, that we should arrive too late to be partakers of the affray; and so it proved, for the next morning, while proceeding higher up the river, we perceived a large force of native boats coming down with the ebb, and all of them filled to the gunwale with plunder.

The Malay and Dyak canoes are made out of a hollowed tree, or, as they are termed in many ports of India, "dug-outs." They are long and narrow, and are capable of being propelled with great swiftness. Although very easy to capsize, they are constantly loaded till so deep that at the least inclination the water pours over the gunwale, and one man is usually employed baling with a scoop made out of a banana leaf. Custom, however, makes them so used to keep the equilibrium, that you often see the Dyaks, whose canoes are similar to the Malays', standing upright and propelling them with their spears.

The Malay war-boat, or _prahu_, is built of timber at the lower part, the upper is of bamboo, rattan, and kedgang (the dried leaf of the Nepa palm). Outside the bends, about a foot from the water line, runs a strong gallery, in which the rowers sit cross-legged. At the after-part of the boat is a cabin for the chief who commands, and the whole of the vessel is surmounted by a strong flat roof, upon which they fight, their principal weapons being the kris and spear, both of which, to be used with effect, require elbow-room.

The Dyak war-boat is a long built canoe, more substantially constructed than the prahu of the Malays, and sufficiently capacious to hold from seventy to eighty men. This also has a roof to fight from. They are generally painted, and the stern ornamented with feathers.

Both descriptions of war-boats are remarkably swift, notwithstanding such apparent top-weight. To proceed:--

We hove to, to speak to those on board of the canoes, and were informed by them that the pirates had sustained a severe defeat, and that the European force was about to descend the river on their return to Kuchin. As a proof of the victory having been gained, they produced several heads which had been taken in the fight.

We proceeded about six miles further up the river, when we discovered the European boats and crews lying at anchor abreast of the smoking ruins of what had been a Malay town. Here we learnt that the pirates had been completely routed, after a desperate resistance, that four large towns had been burnt, and seventy-five brass guns of the country, called leilas, had been captured. The victory, however, had not been gained without loss on our side, and had the pirates been better prepared, we must have suffered much more. Several of the people of Kuchin had been killed, and of Europeans we had to lament the loss of Mr. Wade, first lieutenant of the Dido, and formerly of the Samarang, and Mr. Stewart, one of the residents at Kuchin; the latter gentleman lost his life by an excess of zeal which quite overcame all prudence. Mr. Wade had landed with his men after an attack and capture of a fort, and when in advance received a bullet in the heart. He fell instantly dead; his body was recovered by his shipmates, and borne to the boat, and during a temporary cessation of hostilities was conveyed to the river. His loss was much deplored by his shipmates in both vessels, by whom he was respected as an officer, and beloved as a friend.

Mr. Stewart, pulling in advance in a small canoe, with some of the natives belonging to Kuchin, was suddenly pounced upon by three or four of the enemy's prahus full of men. They ran down the canoe, and thus were Mr. Stewart and his companions at their mercy. Mercy!--a wrong term to use when speaking of those who never show any. They were all krissed, to the number of seventeen, in sight of their companions in the other boats, who were too far behind to arrive in time to render them any assistance, although it hardly need be said that every effort was made. The last that was seen of poor Stewart was his body being carried by one of the Dyaks into the jungle by the side of the river, and the fellow was so anxious to obtain the much-valued trophy of a white man's head, that, as he bore it along, he kept his knife sawing at the head to sever it from the body. Indeed, so much do these people value a white man's head, that they will build a separate room on purpose to contain it.

Whilst lying at this place, riding to a strong flood tide, a canoe floated past us, in which we could discern two dead bodies; they were both dressed as Malays, and the garments were good. Over the bows of the canoe there hung a handsomely ornamented kris. We tried to hook the canoe with the boat-hook, but the strength of the tide was so great that we could not succeed in securing it, and it floated away with the stream. We presumed that they were the bodies of some of the Malays killed in the recent conflict, who probably inhabited a higher portion of the river, and that they had been put into the canoe by their friends to be carried home, and had been swept away by the tide from not having been securely fastened, for nothing would have induced the enemy thus to make us a present of _two heads_.

"We weighed, in company with the steamer and boats, on the same evening, and returned to Kuchin, where we arrived on the following day. The men-of-war boats having been towed by the steamer, we arrived some time before the native prahus belonging to the river, which had accompanied us. On the following day they arrived, and the scene was novel and interesting. They all rounded the point together, dressed out with flags of all descriptions, beating their gongs and tom-toms, and firing blank cartridges from their "Leilas." Highly elated with their victory, and with the plunder which had accompanied it, they celebrated it by all getting excessively drunk that night upon shamsoo.

We remained at Kuchin for three days, enjoying Mr. Brooke's hospitality; and during that time it was proposed and arranged that we should pay a visit to the river Loondoo, the residence of a very remarkable tribe of Dyaks under Mr. Brooke's authority; but not being able to fix the exact period for the visit, on that night we returned to the ship.

We had not been much more than twenty-four hours on board, when the captain, who had been away, returned at midnight; and, at this unusual hour, ordered all the boats, manned and armed, to be piped away immediately. We were informed that the river Sakarron was again our destination; and at four o'clock in the morning we started, with fourteen days' provisions, and armed to the teeth, to join the Dido's boats at the mouth of the river Morotabis, from thence to be towed with them by the steamer to our destination. The cause of this new expedition was the intelligence that the Arab chief, Serib Saib, who had escaped during the late conflict, had returned to the Sakarron to collect together and re-organize his piratical subjects. We soon arrived at the same spot which we had before visited when the town had been burnt down; but the expedition proved to be one of little interest. Notwithstanding his threats, Serib Saib's confidence gave way at the approach of our force, and he made a precipitate retreat up the river, accompanied by four or five hundred of his warriors. Nevertheless, we continued to force our way up the river, with the expectation that, when fairly at bay, he would make a stand. Our advance was made known to the enemy by fires lighted on the different hills abreast of the boats. This speedy mode of communication is adopted by all the natives in this part of the world. Determined not to abandon the pursuit while a chance remained, we followed the redoubtable Serib Saib for eighty miles up the river, which in some parts was too narrow for our boats' crews to make use of their oars; but all obstacles were overcome in the ardour of the chase.

To impede our progress, large trees had been felled so as to fall across the river where it was narrow; but these were removed, and we forced our way on. At last the river, as we approached the source, became little wider than a ditch, the barges grounded, and could proceed no farther; the gigs only could float, and we continued, till, after forty-eight hours of severe labour, we found ourselves at the head of the river; and we also discovered that Serib Saib had escaped, having with his whole force landed, and made his way through the jungle into the interior, leaving at our disposal the forty war canoes which had carried him and his men. To follow him was impossible; so we were obliged to content ourselves with the capture of the war canoes, which were all that we had to show for our exertions. Disappointed, and hungry withal, we were not sorry to find ourselves once more with our heads down the river.

I must not omit, however, to narrate a little trick played upon our gallant captain. I have stated that the river was so narrow near its source that we could not use the oars, and the gigs, which continued the pursuit, had to be hauled through the bushes by the boat-hooks. Returning to where the larger boats had been left aground, our bow-man, who was employed shooting the gig along by such aid as the branches of the trees, or the tendrils which hung to them, afforded him, stuck his boat-hook into what appeared to be a suspended ball of moss; but he soon discovered that it was something more, as it was a nest of hornets, which sallied out in great numbers, and resented the insult to their domicile by attacking the bowman first, as the principal aggressor, and us afterwards, as parties concerned. Now the sting of a hornet is no joke; we covered our faces with our handkerchiefs, or any thing we could find, and made a hasty retreat from the spot, pushing the gig down the stream, till we were clear of their attacks. In the hurry of our escape we left the boat-hook hanging in the hornet's nest, and not feeling at all inclined to go back for it, we hailed the captain's gig, which was following us, and requested very humbly that they would be pleased to recover our boat-hook for us, as we could not well re-ascend the stream from the want of it. As we did not mention that it was so peculiarly situated, the captain saw no objection, and as they came to where it hung, his bow-man caught hold of the staff, and wrested it from its position; but this time such force was used that the tendril gave way, and the nest itself fell down into the boat, and the irritated insects poured out their whole force to revenge this second aggression. The insects after all appeared to have a knowledge of the service, for they served out their stings in the same proportion as the prize-money is divided: the captain came in for his full share.

Returning rather in a bad humour at having had so long a pull for nothing, we anchored off a fortified Malay town, which went by the name of Bintang, and which had been brought to terms by Captain Keppell on a previous expedition up the river. The people had consequently remained neutral, although it was well known that they were not to be trusted, and that, had we been defeated above and beaten back, they would, in all probability, have attacked us in the rear. As the evening closed in, by way of astonishing the natives, and giving them some idea of our perfect equipment, the boats were directed to give a _feu-de-joie_. Some fifteen guns, with rockets, port-fires, blue lights, supported by a well-sustained roulade of musketry, had a very warlike effect; and, no doubt, gave the natives an impression of our superiority in the use of fire-arms. At the conclusion, Captain Keppell, who was always ready for fun, gave out the order that all hands were to join in "God save the Queen," taking the time from him. A dead silence was immediately produced, waiting for him to lead off, which he did; but, to our great amusement, he, by mistake, commenced with "Rule Britannia;" and this, being more to the seamen's taste, certainly, as far as lungs were concerned, was done most ample justice to.

The saying is, "No song no supper;" of course it must be presumed that a song deserves a supper. It proved so in this instance; for just as the chorus was hushed, the Sultan of Bintang, as he styles himself, sent off to the head boat (the one I happened to be in) a superb supper for seven people, consisting of seven bronze trays, each tray containing about a dozen small plates, in which were many varieties of flesh and fowl cooked in a very superior manner. To each tray was a spoon, made of the yellow leaf of some tree unknown; but, as specimens of primitive elegance and utility combined, they were matchless. We had some doubts, from our knowledge of the treachery of the Malays, whether we should fall to upon these appetising viands, as there was no saying but that they might be poisoned. Mr. Brooke, however, who, although not the commandant, was the mentor of the party, explained that he invariably observed one rule when treating and dealing with these people,--which was, never to exhibit any unworthy suspicion of them, as, by so doing, they became convinced of our own integrity and honour. That this confidence might have, in many instances, proved dangerous, unless adopted with great caution, must be admitted; but in our relations with the people on the rivers of Borneo it was of great service. The Malays are so very suspicious themselves, that nothing but confidence on your part will remove the feeling; and, in treating with Malays, this is the first object to be obtained. The remarks of Mr. Brooke, which were not a little assisted by the tempting nature of the viands, and no small degree of hunger, had the effect, and the trays were all cleared out in consequence.

While I was in this river I was capsized by a _bore_. This, I must explain to my non-nautical readers, is a huge rolling wave, which is as upright as a wall, and travels almost as fast as a locomotive. It is occasioned by the flood tide pouring in and overcoming the feeders to the river, forcing them back to their source. On this occasion I was pulling down the river in a small gig, following the other boats, which had turned up another branch of it, when I perceived it rapidly advancing, and making a noise not unlike the animal of the same name, only a great deal louder. Had I been steering a straight course down the river I should have faced it, and probably have got off with the boat half full of water; but I calculated upon reaching the point and entering the branch of the river before its arrival. But I had not calculated upon its speed, and a strong eddy current at the point was wicked enough to draw our boat broadside to the middle of the stream.