As I was climbing into the chains of the brig, I caught sight, through
the smoke of the pistols flashing round us, of a Malay closely following
me. I thought that he was about to run his kriss into me, and I was
about to strike him on the head with a sword I had seized to defend
myself, when I observed that it was young Hassan, who had all the time
been watching our movements with the intention of aiding us. The rush
of seamen and the Dyaks threw him off the spar, and he was precipitated
into the sea, between the two vessels.
"Poor! poor fellow! I could have done much to save his life," I
exclaimed to myself. "But it is not a moment for regret."
Scarcely a minute after, the prahu sunk, ingulfing all with her.
Fairburn and I, with those who had been preserved, were going aft to the
captain, when I caught sight of a marine levelling his musket at the
head of a man floating in the water.
"There still lies one of those rascally Malays," he said in Dutch. "I
will put an end to his misery."
Without a moment's thought I sprang towards him, and threw up his
weapon. I thought I recognised the features. I was right. It was the
faithful Hassan. He was almost exhausted, and looked as if he could not
reach the side of the vessel. Instantly Fairburn threw off his jacket,
and plunged overboard, while I cast a rope towards him. He swam out
with powerful strokes towards the poor fellow, and grasped him just as
he was on the point of sinking. As the brig had only been drifting to
leeward, they were at no great distance. I again hove the rope towards
them. Fairburn seized it, and, lifting the light form of the Malay lad
under his left arm, he hauled himself on board.
In a short time Hassan recovered. He told us, that knowing the prahu
must sink, he had struck out away from her; and, though he was drawn a
short distance down in the vortex she made, he soon again reached the
surface, and then swam towards the brig, trusting that we should see
him, and would endeavour to save him. He was the only survivor of the
Malays. Two of the Dutchmen belonging to the skiff and the Malay
interpreter were missing. Twelve of the Dyaks also escaped, though
several of them were wounded, who were immediately placed in the
surgeon's hands. The poor fellows looked very grateful, and, although
they certainly never before had heard of the healing art, they seemed
fully to comprehend that what he was doing was for their benefit.
When we got aft, we had an account to hear, which naturally very much
shocked us; however, I will narrate it as things occurred. We found
that the vessel we were on board was the Dutch colonial brig _Swalen_
commanded by Lieutenant Cloete. The commander was on the quarter-deck
with several of his officers, and, as we were led up to him by a
midshipman, he received me and Fairburn with the greatest kindness,
shaking us by the hand, and congratulating us on our providential
escape. He at once saw that we were weak from the want of food, and the
danger and excitement we had undergone.
"I would at once ask you into my cabin to refresh and rest yourselves,
gentlemen," he said; "but it is at present occupied by some of your late
companions in misfortune."
"What! have any escaped? Indeed we rejoice to hear it," we both
exclaimed.
"Some few have; but many have been lost," answered the commander
gravely. "It was a hard necessity; but I know the nature of the Malays
well, and had we not fired on them they would not have yielded." While
he was speaking, a boy came out of the cabin, and went up to him. "Oh,
they wish to see you; and I fear the poor master's time is short. We
will go below, gentlemen." Saying this, the commander led the way into
his own cabin.
It was, indeed, a sad sight which met our view. On the table in the
centre lay Captain Van Deck, resting in the arms of the surgeon. The
sheet which was wrapped round him was covered with blood. A round shot
had torn open his side, and he had a wound from a kriss in his chest,
and another in his neck, either of which, from their ghastly look,
appeared sufficient to be mortal. His wife stood by his side holding
his hand; and she seemed truly overwhelmed with genuine sorrow. She,
very likely, was even then recollecting all the trouble and vexation she
had caused him, by giving way to her temper. On a sofa lay a slight
figure--it was that of little Maria. I started, with horror, for I
thought I saw a corpse, she looked so pale; her eyes also were closed,
and she did not stir. I scarcely dared ask for information. My
attention was drawn to the dying master.
"I have begged to see you, gentlemen, for my moments are numbered," he
said, gasping as he spoke. "I crave your forgiveness, if, through my
carelessness and neglect of my duties, I have brought you into the
danger and misery you have suffered. I know you, Fairburn, held my
seamanship light."
We stopped him, and begged him not to think of the subject.
"Well, I will go on to a more important one, then," he continued. "We
have been shipmates for some time, and that makes us brethren. I commit
my wife and that dear child, if she recovers, to your charge, to see
them safe with their kindred in Java. And you, my poor frow, will be
kind to sweet little Maria. I would not mention it, but to say that the
kindness you show to her will more than compensate for any little want
of it you have at times displayed towards me."
He hesitated as he spoke, as if he did not like to call up old
grievances.
Mrs Van Deck again burst into tears; and we who knew how very
uncomfortable a life she had at times led him, could not help feeling
that he was in a truly Christian and forgiving state of mind. Had he
and she always been in that state of mind--had, perhaps, even a few
words of mutual explanation taken place--undoubtedly their unhappiness
would have been avoided. We promised the dying man that we would attend
his wishes. He heard us, but his strength was exhausted; his wound
welled forth afresh, and, before the surgeon could apply a restorative,
his spirit had flown to its eternal rest. I will not describe the grief
of the widow. Grief had worked a most beneficial effect on her, and she
appeared a totally, different person to what she had before been.
The surgeon now turned the whole of his attention to little Maria. She
had been wounded in the side by a splinter; but, though she was weak
from the loss of blood, he assured me that he did not apprehend any
danger. She was, though, suffering much from pain, which she bore most
meekly.
When I first entered the cabin, I thought I had observed an object
moving in the corner, but I took no notice of it. I had sat down by the
little girl's side, and, having taken one of her hands in mine, I was
endeavouring to soothe her for the loss of her uncle, of which she was
aware, when I felt my other hand, which hung by my side, seized hold of
by a cold paw. I turned round, and what should I see but little Ungka,
looking up towards me with a face as expressive of grief as that of any
human being! He seemed fully aware of what had occurred. He then put
his hands to his head, and chattered and rolled about in a way which, in
spite of his gravity, was so highly ludicrous, that at any other time I
should have burst into fits of laughter. When he had come on board, no
one knew; for when he first made his appearance following the captain,
the seamen thought he was some little Malay imp, and had thrust him back
again, so that he also had a very narrow escape for his life. I
suspected that he had caught hold of the end of a rope hanging over the
side of the vessel, and had clambered up it when the fight was done.
It was with great sorrow we heard that the two lady passengers, of whom
I have spoken, and nearly all the Dutch crew, were missing, and there
was every probability they had been destroyed in the burning wreck. The
crew of the jolly-boat had been taken on board one of the other prahus;
but what their fate was, no one knew. Thus out of the crew and
passengers of the ill-fated _Cowlitz_, only six people had escaped. We,
who were among the number, had therefore reason to be grateful to Heaven
for the mercy shown us.
The brig cruised about in the neighbourhood for two days, in the hopes
of falling in with others of the piratical squadron. She, however, did
not succeed in discovering any more.
I will pass over the events of the next few days. The north-east
monsoon showing signs of beginning to blow in earnest, the commander of
the brig was anxious to return to port, and accordingly with much
reluctance gave up the search. Little Maria was slowly recovering. The
widow bore her grief meekly and resignedly, and showed that she was a
thoroughly altered woman. Wounds in that burning clime are more
dangerous than in colder latitudes; thus three of the wounded had died.
One was a little boy, the child of a Dyak woman. He had been badly
wounded in the shoulder while resting in her arms. The child sank
gradually, nor could the surgeon's skill avail to arrest the progress of
death. The poor mother used to watch him with supplicating looks as he
dressed the wound, as if he alone had the power to save her boy: and
when he died, she reproached him, with unmistakable gestures, for not
preserving him to her. Savage as she was--accustomed to scenes of
bloodshed and murder from her youth--the feelings of a mother were
strong within her, and she would not be comforted. Captain Cloete was
very anxious to land the Dyaks in their native country, and he consulted
Fairburn as to the possibility of discovering it. We had, it must be
remembered, been left below both on entering and leaving the river, so
that we could only give a very rough guess at its position. Fairburn,
however, of course, expressed his anxiety to be of service; and by
consulting the chart, and considering attentively the courses we had
steered, and calculating the distance we had afterwards been driven by
the gale, we came to the conclusion that the poor wretches must have
been taken from the Balowi river, on the north-west coast of Borneo.
For the mouth of that river we accordingly shaped our course. It would
have been barbarous to have landed the poor wretches at any other spot
than their own country; for they would either have been made slaves of
by the Malays, or killed by the other Dyaks for the sake of their heads.
It is a curious fancy the Dyaks of Borneo entertain, of collecting as
many dried heads as they can obtain, either to wear as trophies of their
prowess, or to hang up in their head-houses.
We were treated with the greatest kindness by the captain and his
officers, who seemed to vie with each other in doing us service. They
all spoke some English, and most very well, so that we had no difficulty
in carrying on conversation with them. When they heard my story
especially, they seemed to sympathise warmly with me, and express
themselves anxious to assist me by every means in their power. I,
meantime, was not idle, and employed every spare moment in learning the
Malay language, as also in attaining some knowledge of that of Java, as
well as of others of the numerous dialects spoken in the Indian
Archipelago. I felt that my success might depend on my speaking
fluently the languages of the countries I should visit and consequently
that I must exert myself to the utmost. To those acquainted only with
their own tongue, it may appear impossible that I could gain knowledge
sufficient to be of any material use; but it must be remembered that I
was already accustomed to the Hindostanee, and other dialects of India,
and that, therefore, with the stimulus I had, the acquisition of others
was comparatively easy, considering the natural aptitude I possessed of
learning foreign languages. Thus, notwithstanding my anxiety, the time
flew rapidly by.
Four days after we had so providentially escaped from the Sooloo
pirates, we sighted Cape Sink, on the north-west coast of Borneo, some
way to the southward of which was the river whence the Dyaks had been
captured. As we ran along the coast at a respectful distance, for fear
of some sunken rocks and shoals which we believed to be off it, Fairburn
and I were looking out, with our glasses, for the mouth, which we hoped
to be able to make out. The rescued natives were on deck; and we fully
expected that they would be able to recognise the approach of their
native stream. We looked at them as they watched the shore with
surprised and somewhat puzzled looks; but still they gave no signs to
lead us to suppose that they were aware they were approaching their own
country. We found, however, that their puzzled looks arose from their
supposing that they were already many hundred miles away from their own
country, and from their finding themselves, as they supposed, on a coast
so very similar to it. As we ran along the coast, the mouth of a broad
river opened before us, and, with the lead going to ascertain the depth
of water we stood in towards it. On drawing near, it seemed to widen
still more; and our captain being anxious to explore it, the wind also
being fair, we crossed the bar, which had a considerable depth over it.
The river, at the mouth, was nearly four miles wide, but it narrowed
shortly to about a mile. Still the Dyaks showed no sign of
satisfaction, and both Fairburn and I began to suspect that we had
entered the wrong river; we continued, however, our course. As yet we
had seen no signs of human beings; but just as we rounded a point, we
came suddenly on a canoe, with three men fishing in her. They were so
paralysed with the astonishment our appearance caused, that at first
they forgot even to attempt to escape. Our boats were ready manned to
lower into the water at a moment's notice; so in an instant two of them
were in the water in chase of the strangers. This somewhat restored the
Dyaks to their senses; and seizing their paddles, they plied them
strenuously in the hope of escaping from the formidable prahu, which the
brig must have appeared to them. Seeing, however, that the boats
rapidly gained upon them, they ceased rowing, and two of them seizing
their sumpitans, or blow-pipes, shot several poisoned arrows at the
Dutchmen. Fortunately no one was hit by them; and the officer in care
of them bethinking himself of displaying a white handkerchief, this
universal token of peace was understood, and all hostile demonstration
ceased. The Dyaks, on this, seemed to banish all their alarm, and were
at once on perfectly good terms with the boats' crews. They quickly
understood that they were required to pilot the brig up the river, and
willingly came on board. Captain Cloete, who was well accustomed to
deal with savages, explained to a fine young man, who seemed to be the
chief, and the most intelligent of the party, the depth of water his
vessel drew; that he must avoid all rocks and sand-banks, and that he
wished to sail up about three times as far as we had already gone. The
other Dyaks had hitherto been kept out of sight. They were now brought
on deck; but when the fishermen saw them, instead of rushing into each
other's arms, they appeared much more ready to attempt cutting off each
other's heads; and the alarm of both parties was very evident, for they
both fancied that there was some treachery to be practised against them.
The captain, however, who at once understood their feelings, quickly
managed to dispel their fears, first by producing the white
handkerchief, and then by bringing both parties close to each other, and
making them shake hands. It must be owned that they did not do so with
much good grace, and they reminded me strongly of two dogs who have just
been gnawing away at each other's throats, being brought together to
make friends by their peaceably inclined masters. At last, being
convinced that our intentions were good, they began to talk to each
other, the fishermen asking the prisoners whence they had come, and the
latter giving them an account of their adventures. The result of the
conversation raised the Dutch in the estimation of our new acquaintance,
who learned to appreciate their power, and wished to serve those who
trusted them.
We asked the young fisherman his name; and he made us understand that it
was Kalong. His eyes sparkled with animation whenever any one addressed
him; and with wonderful rapidity he seemed to comprehend our signs, and
was never at a loss to answer us. To show us the course of the river,
he knelt down on the deck, and, taking the end of a rope, he twisted it
about to show the various reaches in it; then seizing a handful of chips
of wood from the carpenter's bench, he quickly formed one to indicate
the brig, with two strips stuck perpendicularly into it to serve as
masts. Holding this rough model in his hand, he tossed it about off one
end of the rope, to show that there was the sea where we had been tossed
about in the storm, and then he made it move slowly up the rope, to show
how the brig had glided calmly up the river till she reached the spot
where we then were. He next stuck several chips together, evidently to
show that they were intended to represent a Dyak habitation, and these
he placed further up the rope; and then touching himself and the other
men, showed that he lived there. The rest of the rope he twisted about,
and placed other houses alongside it, till he shook his head, showing
that he knew nothing further of the country. We had now a very good
chart before us of the river we were in, which Captain Cloete had
forthwith copied on paper, to the infinite delight of the designer.
His success seemed to sharpen his wits; and taking another bit of rope
which was given to him, he knelt down some way from the first, and
twisted it about to form a river. He also placed some houses on it, and
rushing up to the Dyaks, he touched them all severally, to show that
they were to represent their habitations; and then taking several small
chips in his hand, he moved them up rapidly towards the houses, several
of which he knocked over. We thus understood that our Dyaks had come
from a river to the north of the one we were in.
Captain Cloete, however, did not like to lose so favourable an
opportunity of visiting on amicable terms these singular people, and
therefore resolved to anchor off the village for the night, and to carry
out charges to their native place on the following day. The wind
continuing fair, though light, we slowly glided up the stream, the
flood-tide aiding us. The scenery, as we advanced, improved
considerably, the trees being of fine height, and mountains appearing in
the distance. We had as yet observed no signs of cultivation, nor did
the country appear to be inhabited. We saw, however, a great variety of
animals. As I was watching the shore, I observed something move on a
sand-ridge. I pointed it out to Kalong. He laughed, and opened his
mouth very wide, as if he would eat me. The action was significant; and
Fairburn, who had been turning his glass in that direction, exclaimed,
"Why, that is a crocodile; and a big fellow, too, in truth." The
monster seemed arousing himself from sleep, and slowly crawled out of
the slimy bed in which he had been reposing. Several shots were fired
at him, but the balls glanced off harmlessly from his scaly sides. I
afterwards saw some captured by a very simple method.
The breeze freshened, and we ran rapidly on, carefully, of course,
sounding all the time. Kalong, our pilot, was in great delight, till he
saw one of the officers going to fire at a crocodile, when he rushed up
to him, and entreated him not to do so. Willing to please him, the
officer desisted, and the monster escaped a slight tickling on the back.
The reason was soon apparent; for, rounding a high and thickly-wooded
point, we found ourselves in a little bay, on the shore of which was a
large village, while close to us, under the shade of the lofty
palm-trees which overhung the water, numerous groups of women and
children were disporting in the refreshing stream. When we first
intruded into this sylvan retreat, their consternation was so great that
they scarcely knew where to run to screen themselves from our view; then
setting up a loud and simultaneous shriek, they fled, dragging the young
ones with them, some towards the village, and others into the wood. At
the same moment we heard the tom-tom beat to arms, and observed the
warriors putting on their wooden and woollen armour, and seeking their
spears and sumpitans. Kalong had now sufficiently enjoyed the fright he
intended to give his countrymen, and making his appearance in the
rigging, he waved a white cloth to assure them that we came as friends.
As soon as he was recognised, loud shouts proclaimed the satisfaction of
those on shore, and a number of canoes were seen putting off towards us.
I must now stop to describe the wild and extraordinary scene before us,
with which I was afterwards doomed to become so familiar. I have spoken
of a village, but I should rather have said the castle; for the
habitation of the numerous tribe assembled on the shore consisted
chiefly of one large building, several hundred feet long, and standing
on the summit of stout piles, not less than forty feet in height. At
this great distance from the ground a bamboo platform had been
constructed to serve as the floor of the house, which itself was not
more than six feet high. The side-walls were also of bamboo, and the
roof was made from the leaves of the nibong and other palms. It rose to
the height of the surrounding trees, standing as it did on a high mound
of earth thrown up artificially some little way from the banks of the
river. It was intended to serve as a fortification; and also, I
suspect, that airy style of building must much conduce to preserve the
health of the people. Several rope ladders led from the ground to this
singular residence. We received the chief, and a number of the
principal people and their followers, on board. They had little
clothing besides the waistcloth, made of bark from a tree; and large
rings in their ears, and were very far from being prepossessing in their
appearance. Captain Cloete, keeping on his guard against treachery,
should such be attempted, allowed them to inspect everything on board
the brig. They seemed pleased with all they saw, and behaved very well,
but in no way showed surprise. We found, to our no little satisfaction,
that some of them understood the Malay language, and that Hassan was
able to converse with them. Soon after we made the discovery, Fairburn
and I were standing with Hassan, surrounded by several, of whom we were
making inquiries. Among other questions, Fairburn asked if they were
not surprised at seeing so large a vessel off their village.
"They say no," replied Hassan; "for not many moons ago there was another
vessel off here nearly as big, only she had not so many chiefs with fine
dresses, or so many people in her. But then there were women in her;
and one little girl just like the one here," meaning Maria.
On this I pricked up my ears, and my heart beat quick with anxiety. I
entreated Hassan to make further enquiries.
"They say that the vessel was rigged like this; she was a brig." He
continued, after speaking with them for some time: "She came in here for
wood and water. She was not a war ship, but the people went about
armed. They were very disorderly; and some of them behaving ill to the
people on shore, were very nearly cut off, and barely escaped with their
lives to their boat. She then set sail, and going down the river was no
more seen."
This account made me feel that it was more than probable that the brig
was no other than the _Emu_, and that she had been run away with by her
crew. Another dreadful idea instantly forced itself on my imagination.
If the brig in question was the _Emu_, had she really sailed, or had the
Dyaks, as they might have been tempted to do, cut her off? I begged
Hassan to make every inquiry, and to cross-question the people to
ascertain the truth of their story. I was inclined to believe it, as
they had so frankly spoken about the brig; whereas, had they destroyed
her, it would have been a subject they would have avoided. At all
events, we observed no European arms or clothes in their possession; and
Hassan assured us that he had every reason to think that they did not
deceive us. In this unexpected way I discovered that the vessel I was
in search of was not wrecked, and that there was every probability of my
friends being alive. All other interests were now absorbed in this
great one, and I never ceased making inquiries about the brig of all I
met. I, notwithstanding, went on shore with a party of officers, to
visit the strange residence before us. It struck me that the idea of
Jack and the Bean Stalk might have originated from it. Having climbed
up the ladder, we were ushered into the chief's room, which was in the
centre, behind it being arranged that of the women. There was but
little furniture besides mats and cushions; and the only ornaments, if
they could be so called, were a number of dried human heads hanging from
the ceiling. I shuddered as I looked at them at first; but I own that I
soon got accustomed to them. They were the heads of the enemies of the
tribe taken in war, and were prized as much as the North American Indian
does the scalps of his foes. No objection was made to our visiting the
apartments of the women. They were clothed in long loose garments, of
native cloth, suspended from the waist, their shoulders being bare.
They were small, but well shaped. Their hair, which was long and dark,
was twisted up at the back of the head; the front locks being plaited
and drawn off the forehead. Their skins were of a light brown colour,
smooth and glossy. They wore ear-rings of some mixed metal, of a size
very disproportionate to their small figures, and very far from
becoming. Their countenances, if not pretty, were highly good-humoured
and pleasant. The younger women were diligently employed in pounding
rice in mortars of large dimensions. There were groups of children
playing in the verandah, who at first were very shy of us; but as we
made them little presents of beads, and other trifles, their confidence
was quickly established, and wherever we went they followed, laughing
heartily, and dancing round us. At length, our curiosity being
satisfied, we descended from the bird-like nest, and returned on board
the brig.