A TRAITOR IN THE DESSA.
About twelve miles to the south-east of Santjoemeh, in a hilly country
which offers to the eye a continual succession of picturesque and
lovely views, lies the little dessa Kaligaweh. It is situated in the
centre of an extensive forest of cocoa-nut trees which encloses it as
in a circle of emerald, and which, viewed from an eminence close by,
resembles a mighty garland of verdure whose tops waving in the gentle
breeze have the appearance of a frame of grass-green lace-work.
This cocoa-nut forest may be said to form the outer court of the
dessa, for the village itself lies concealed in a thick grove of
fruit-trees in which the most splendid mangoes, the most delicious
ramboetans, the most refreshing assams, the juiciest bliembiengs,
the most fragrant djeroeks and the coolest djamboes, and many other
gifts of intertropical Pomona grow up and flourish in the richest
luxuriance. Here and there tufts of underwood fill the spaces between
the little huts and the trees, and flowers in the wildest profusion
fill the air with their fragrance and enchant the eye by their rich
but harmonious diversity of colour.
The dessa itself is enclosed by dense rows of bamboo, the thick and
tall Black bamboo, which furnishes the natives with the most useful
building material, and whose long massive stalks growing quite close
together and gracefully bending under the load of the heavy plumage
of verdure they have to support, form an almost impenetrable hedge,
while at the same time they cast the most grateful shade over the
enclosure within.
Kaligaweh was but an inconsiderable dessa. Some thirty or forty huts
scattered here and there in picturesque disorder among the fruit
trees formed the centre of the small community. The inhabitants of
this spot so highly favoured by nature occupied themselves, for the
most part, with the culture of rice to which the soil was admirably
adapted, and the fruitful rice-fields rose all around in the form of an
amphitheatre on the hill-slopes. The lower grounds contained several
fish-ponds well stocked with bandengs, djampals, Cataks, Gaboes, and
many other kinds of fish, all of them highly esteemed by the European
and Chinese inhabitants of Santjoemeh, and therefore fetching good
prices in the market of that place. Hence the population of Kaligaweh
might have been a highly prosperous and flourishing community, had
it not been for the ravages which one fatal and all-destructive pest
spread among them. Their bane was the passion for opium. That fatal
drug had undermined not only their prosperity, but broken down also
the constitutions of all those who gave themselves up to its use. It
was a sad fact, alas, that the great majority of those who dwelt
in Kaligaweh were enslaved to it; but sadder yet it was that there
were not a few among them who could recall the good time when the
name of opium was scarcely known there. In that short space of time,
how complete a change had come over so lovely a spot!
About twelve years ago a native of the dessa, who, in his youth had
left it to seek his fortune elsewhere, returned to Kaligaweh. This
man, whose name was Singomengolo, but who usually was known as Singo,
had let loose the opium fiend upon the quiet and innocent little
dessa in which he was born.
Singo, on leaving home, had fallen into the hands of the recruiting
serjeants. By encouraging his innate passion for gambling,
and by initiating him into the mysteries of opium smoking, these
soul-destroyers had, in an unguarded moment, induced him to enlist,
and thus to bind himself to the service for a period of six years. The
wretches helped the miserable man soon to get rid of the bounty in
opium-dens, in gambling houses, at cock-fights, and in excesses of
all kinds. Then for six years he was a soldier.
As soon as his time of service had expired, Singo left the army in
which he had acquitted himself with some credit, and obtained a place
as oppasser (policeman) under one of the government controllers in
the interior of the island. He soon gave evidence of considerable
skill as a detective, and earned for himself the reputation of a
very sharp and clever officer. This reputation brought him under the
notice of one of the agents of the opium farmer for the district,
who recommended him to the Company; and the Company, appreciating his
services, obtained for him the place of bandoelan or opium-detective
at their chief office at Santjoemeh.
In that capacity, his dexterity and cunning, not only in the detection
of opium smuggling but also in bringing to light other mysterious and
shady transactions, won him the warm support of Lim Yang Bing, the
wealthy opium farmer, who used constantly to employ him, especially in
cases which had baffled the shrewdest of his agents and spies. Singo's
services were, in fact, invaluable to his master; for whenever,
for some reason or other, a man stood in the rich Chinaman's way,
Singo could always be depended upon to find smuggled opium in his
possession, though the victim might not have perhaps, in all his life,
so much as seen the drug.
In the year 1874 Babah Lim Yang Bing, by sheer dint of bribery,
contrived to get the number of opium stores in his district increased
by ten; and among the unfortunate dessas which were thus poisoned
by sanction of the Dutch government, was Kaligaweh. Now, it was
easy enough to set up an opium den in the little village; but it
was quite another matter to make it pay, which was all Lim Yang Bing
cared for. As soon as the government had granted the license, an opium
store arose in Kaligaweh, a hole filthy in the extreme, so as to remain
faithful to the tradition of such dens. Over the door appeared a black
board on which in huge white letters were conspicuously painted the
words, "Opium store," in Dutch, in Javanese, and in Chinese, and in
the characters peculiar to those tongues. The two Chinamen, who were
entrusted with its management, did their very best to attract people,
they lavished their most winning smiles upon the passers-by, they
exhausted every means of enticing them to enter; but it was all in
vain. Not a single man ever ventured to set foot in the noisome hole.
Babah Lim Yang Bing was not slow to perceive that so good an example
would become contagious, and might spread among the other dessas
of his district. It was quite obvious to the most casual observer,
that Kaligaweh and its environs were wealthy and prosperous out of all
comparison with the places where the opium trade flourished. Why, the
mere outward appearance of its people was quite enough to show this;
and the broad chests and sinewy arms of its men, and the firmly rounded
hips and full shoulders of its women and girls, whose bronzed skin
bore the ruddy glow of health, formed the most startling contrast with
the ghastly, sunken countenances, and shrivelled frames of the walking
skeletons which one encountered in other less favoured localities.
But, chiefly was the eye of that cunning Chinaman attracted by the rich
rice-fields which covered the entire district, and which pleasantly
surrounded its little dessas nestling in the dark foliage of their
fruit trees as islets amidst a sea of emerald, when the young crops
imparted light and cheerfulness to the scene; or presently again would
encircle these dessas as in a bright band of gold, when the stalks,
ripening under the tropical sun, were bending under their weight of
grain, and waved to the soft harvest breeze.
In whatever season of the year, or from whatever side one might,
at that time, approach Kaligaweh, its fields testified to the
frugal industry of its inhabitants. They always spoke of regular and
systematic cultivation, and of careful and constant irrigation, and
they thus loudly proclaimed--a fact with which the reader is already
acquainted--that its people were prosperous and happy, and led very
different lives to the squalid and wretched existence which was
dragged out in the places where the passion for opium had taken root.
All this it was Lim Yang Bing's purpose to alter. Not only was the
material welfare of the dessa a thorn in his side; but his covetous
nature longed to transfer the earnings of its simple and frugal
population to his own already over-filled pockets. His attempt with
the opium-store had hitherto, we have seen, borne no fruit; it had
proved a failure, and had brought loss rather than profit to its
owner. He had determined, at any cost, to bring about a change.
On a certain evening, it was towards the end of harvest, the population
of Kaligaweh, men and women, young men and maidens, were returning
homewards from the fields. The women had been hard at work all day,
handling the sickles and cutting the ripe grain from the stalks,
while the men had been no less busily engaged in taking the little
bundles from the hands of the reapers, and binding them together
into big bundles. The faces of all were flushed with exertion, and
glowing with satisfaction, for the crop this year was a heavy one;
no plagues of any kind had interfered with its growth, so that the
landowners looked forward to laying up many pikols in their barns,
and the more humble labourers could count upon a plentiful payment
in kind. That, in itself, was quite sufficient to account for the
universal good-humour and gaiety which prevailed.
The rice-harvest is, indeed, in the rural districts of the rich
island of Java, a great national festival, a day of joy, which,
for its simple people, has more real significance than all the
other Mahommedan festivals. It is then for them fair time. Clad in
their gay, many-coloured dresses, the women and maidens assemble on
the green; then many a heart, for the first time, feels the tender
passion; then many an old love-affair is settled, and many a "yes"
is softly murmured. The climate, the surrounding scenery in those
glad harvest-fields, all invite to merriment and glee. True it is,
we must not deny it, that, on such occasions, unguarded innocence is
sometimes betrayed, and that, now and then, an offering is brought
to the shrine of Lucina; but, much more frequently, the vows then
made will presently be ratified and confirmed by the priest, and,
at the very worst, no such frightful consequences ensue as are wont
to arise in more highly civilized society.
On this evening, as the merry bands of reapers approached the dessa,
the lively tones of the cymbal fell upon their ears. The people looked
at one another in astonishment at the unwonted sounds, and were at
a loss to know who had prepared for them this pleasant surprise.
When they came to the village green, they saw two booths erected under
the splendid Wariengien or wild-fig trees which overshadowed the dessa,
and over each of these booths there waved the Dutch flag.
One of them was, as yet, closed, but in the back of the other were
seated, cross-legged, a band of musicians, who made the air resound
with their inspiriting strains. In front of this orchestra, a space was
left vacant, the ground of which had been levelled and sprinkled with
fine sand, and the booth was fairly well illuminated with lanterns of
various colours. A loud cheer arose from the village crowd, for now
they began to see that they might expect a much richer treat than a
mere concert.
Singomengolo, whom Lim Yang Bing had despatched with plenary powers
to Kaligaweh and who had provided this entertainment for his friends
in the dessa, was standing close by leaning up against one of the
bamboo stems, which supported the roof of the booth, and was, with
sundry nods and smiles, welcoming the fresh arrivals who were, for
the most part, old acquaintances of his, and who warmly greeted him
on his return to the dessa.
In a twinkling, the sickles, the bands of straw, and the bundles of
rice were stowed away, and the broad-brimmed hats, with which the
labourers protected themselves at their work from the full glare of
the mid-day sun, were laid aside. Soon the entire population came
crowding to the green, and romping and playing filled the open space
in front of the booth, then by degrees seated themselves on the soft
carpet of tuft.
Meanwhile, the sun had gone down in the West, and the stars were
coming out one by one, and began to show their soft and twinkling
light, while the moon, rising in the dark blue vault of heaven as a
large blood-red disc, shed the fantastic shadows of the Wariengien
trees upon the assembled groups. Round about the tree-tops innumerable
swarms of bats flitted in giddy mazes uttering their peculiar, short,
shrill cry, and high above them, in the evening air, sundry flying
squirrels kept circling round mysteriously, who seemed to be selecting
the juiciest fruits on which, presently, they intended to make a feast.
When all were seated, and some degree of order had been obtained;
at a signal from Singo, the cymbals and all the instruments in the
orchestra struck up, and filled the air with pleasant melody.
"Bogiro, Bogiro!" shouted the younger and more enthusiastic part of
the audience.
That first piece, indeed, which may most fitly be compared with our
overture, is one in which all the instruments of a Javanese orchestra
play together, and which serves as an introduction to the programme
which is to follow. At times, it must be said, the cymbals would
make a most discordant and deafening noise, but this was varied
now and then by solos which were musical and pleasant enough to the
ear. Evidently the musicians were this evening on their mettle, they
exerted themselves to the utmost to deserve the applause of their
simple audience; and the profound silence with which that wanton and
excitable crowd sat listening, sufficiently testified to the success
of their endeavours.
At the last clash of the cymbals, the people broke silence, and by
ringing shouts and lively cheers gave vent to their satisfaction as
a Westerly audience would have shown its approval by clapping of hands.
Singomengolo, with the help of a couple of his assistants, and
aided by the two Chinamen who kept the opium-store, then offered the
notables, who were present, cigars wrapped in leaves, while sweets and
confectionery were handed round to the more distinguished ladies of
the company. Round the two booths several stalls had been erected,
at which the lower classes could go and gratify their tastes. The
satisfaction of these poor people was unbounded, when they found that
all these dainties were provided free of charge, and that it was
in this generous manner that Singo had determined to celebrate his
return among them. On all sides, praises and thanks were lavished on
his liberality. But the tempter took good care not to let them know
that the tobacco of which those pleasant little cigars were made had
been well steeped in infusion of opium, and that the pernicious juice
of the Polyanthes tuberosa largely entered into the composition of the
nice sweets he had so bountifully served out. Perfectly unconscious
of this treachery the poor people thoroughly enjoyed their treat,
and were loud in praises to their generous friend.
Presently, the cymbal was heard again, and every one hurried back
to his seat. At the first notes of the piece which followed a loud
cheer arose; "Taroe Polo, Taroe Polo" was the cry as the people
recognised the well known sounds, then all sat silent and listened
with rapt attention.
The story or legend of which the musicians were about to give a musical
interpretation, was familiar to almost every inhabitant of the dessa,
yet here and there small groups gathered round some old man as he
told the oft-repeated tale to his younger friends.
The music of Java is the interpretation, the embodiment, the rhythmical
expression of the numberless fables, legends, and romantic tales
current in the island. It is inseparably connected with them just
as appropriate gesture and modulation of the voice are the necessary
accompaniments of oratory. Of these legends the story of Taroe Polo
is one of the prettiest and well-calculated to awaken the softest
emotions in the breast of the susceptible Javanese.
In very low tones, which blended with the notes of the music, but
yet in an audible voice, the old man said:
Taroe Polo was a young prince who one day while he was out hunting lost
his way in the dense tropical forest, and as he was wandering about,
suddenly came upon an old ruinous palace the existence of which had
never been suspected. Making his way through the tangled undergrowth,
he soon came up to the walls and entered the ruin. As he roamed about
the spacious and much decayed galleries, he was greatly surprised to
find himself in an apartment which the hand of time had spared, and
which retained all its former freshness and splendour. As he looked
round in amazement at so sudden and strange a sight, his eye lit upon
a young damsel of wondrous beauty surrounded by a train of attendants,
who, although unable to vie with their mistress in loveliness, yet
were all comely and young. She was a princess, a king's daughter,
confined by the cruelty of her mother to that lonely spot, because she
would give no ear to the suit of an old though powerful monarch, who
was anxious to make her his bride. The moment prince Taroe Polo caught
sight of this enchanting vision, he felt a fire kindle in his breast,
and casting himself down at her feet, he began to pour out to her the
tale of his passionate love; hear how well the little silver cymbal
and the strips of resonant wood struck with small hammers with their
soft silvery tones express the tender feelings of the prince, how they
seem to sing, to woo, to implore as the young man kneels to his love.
The young maiden listens but too willingly to his eager suit, her
bosom heaves, she sighs, the flute with its languishing notes quite
plainly tells the tale.
But she is compelled to repress her emotion, for she is guarded by
her attendants, who are her mother's slaves, and who one and all
will be ready to betray her. She replies in broken accents, in single
syllables, the harp faithfully gives back her confusion.
Gently however, and with the cunning of love she tries to get rid,
if but for a few moments, of those who stand around her. She succeeds,
and now the passionate joy of the lovers breaks forth unrestrained. How
well that burst of passion is rendered in full symphony by the two
stringed viol, the accordian, the flute and the zither. Thus having,
for a while, given way to their feelings, they suddenly remember
that they can never win the mother's consent, that her followers are
incorruptible and that their only chance of bliss is to flee away
together--far away to the mountains. The lovely princess, however,
will not yield, her maiden pride refuses to take the irrevocable
step. But the prayers of Taroe Polo, now soft as the gentle breeze
which rustles in the tree-tops, then vehement and passionate as the
tempest blast which howls over the fields--at length prevail. Her
own heart pleads for him, her love is sounding his praise, still she
wavers, she hesitates. But the thought of her mother and of the fate
which awaits her should the secret of her love become known, quite
overcomes her. With downcast eyes, but with a smile of joy she casts
herself into the arms of her love, and with him she flies--she flies to
the blue mountains, which loom far away in the mist. The whole Javanese
orchestra celebrates this happy close with a full burst of melody,
the cymbals with rapid clang indicate the swiftness of their flight,
and then the coy sighs of the maiden are succeeded by the jubilant
song of the prince, and a loud clash of victory brings the piece to
a triumphant close.
The whole population of Kaligaweh--simple folk--sat awe-struck
listening with breathless attention until the last sounds of the
gamelang had faded, quivering away in the distance.
The moon had meanwhile risen, had lost her blood-red hue and was now
prying down upon that rustic village green through the tall Wariengien
trees and flooding all those who sat there with silvery light.
By this time the other booth had been opened and within a group of men
could be seen cleverly manipulating some packs of Chinese cards. Your
Javanese is a born gambler. With him the love of play is the ruling
passion, nay the mother of all others, which without that excitement
might be harmless enough.
The sight of that booth is irresistible, many of the men rise at once
to take part in the seductive game, whilst others who are anxious
to see the theatrical performance which was to follow, begin to ask
Singo or his attendants for one of those cigars which they had found
so delicious. The poor little women too are so fond of those nice
little sweetmeats and cannot help showing that a second edition of
those dainties would not be unwelcome. But, the crafty minions of
Lim Yang Bing were on the watch. With the most pleasant smiles they
told the company that the supply intended for free distribution
had come to an end; but that the stall-keepers were ready to sell
cigars and sweetmeats to anyone who would pay for them. It was a sore
disappointment; the stall-keepers were ready to sell, but where was the
money to come from? For though we know that the people of Kaligaweh
were in every way prosperous, yet there was but very little of the
filthy dross of this world among them.
Singomengolo read their feelings at once, and with devilish craft he
pointed to the open gambling booth. There, he grinned, plenty of all
sorts of coins could be picked up in a few minutes. It was a mere
matter of luck.
His words acted like oil cast upon the fire.
"But to play, one must have ready money to stake," suggested one of
the bystanders.
And how then about the rice which you have just brought home? said
the tempter with a leer worthy of Satan himself.
A new light dawned upon the wretched people. The rice, of course,
how was it that they had never thought of that?
"And will they take rice for payment?" asked one.
"Take it?" cried Singo, "of course they will and allow you the full
market value for it." "And," continued the tempter, "You can see for
yourselves that to-day is a lucky day for you. Look at Pak Ardjan
how he is rattling the rix-dollars. It was true enough, there stood
Pak Ardjan, the father of the late mate--there he stood dancing and
jumping about like a madman, while he rattled in his closed hands
the three rix-dollars he had just won. Three rix-dollars! Why that
was at least half a month's wages! And to win all that money in a
few minutes! All one wanted was but a little pluck--fortune would be
kind enough." Thus spake many of the poor creatures, little knowing
what nets were spread around them. Still there was a great deal of
hesitation--men had not altogether taken leave of their senses. The
great majority still held back, and but very few bundles of rice had
found their way to the gambling booth.
Just then--Kaseran and Wongsowidjojo and Kamidin, and Sidin, and so
many others began to cut the same capers as Pak Ardjan. They also
danced about, they also shouted for joy, they showed the people--the
one three, the other five, a third seven, and yet another ten guilders
which they had made in a twinkling. That Singo really was an excellent
fellow, he had returned to make the fortunes of all his friends.
Then there was no holding them. Soon the whole booth was full of
men blindly intent upon tempting fortune, while outside the cymbal
resounded, and the voices of the actresses(?) were beginning to make
themselves heard.
But the keepers of the gambling-booth were no fools. Their policy
was not to frighten the poor dessa-people at this first attempt; and
evidently only a very small portion of the rice-harvest had fallen
into their hands. The cheerful and happy faces of the gamblers told
plainly enough that there were not many losers among them, and if here
and there one had been unlucky, it was always one who could very well
stand a slight reverse of fortune. In truth, the "croupiers" did but
very little business that night, though they were clever enough to take
care, now that the ball had been set rolling, that their losses were
not ruinously heavy. In fact, as the night grew on, the rix-dollars
of the winners were imperceptibly but surely melting away to guilders
and the guilders to still smaller change. Yet, on the whole, the
gamblers had won sufficient to make them all noisy and happy.
At length came the hour of midnight, and the heavy gong was struck
at the guard-house. The booth-keepers declared that they intended to
close, that they had had a really bad night, and they actually did blow
out the candles and shut up the place. Many of the people were still
lingering about and listening to the cymbal and the craving for cigars
began to be felt again. Thus the stall keepers did a roaring trade,
and seeing that they also were in the pay of the Babah Lim Yang Bing
the money which the confederates had lost at cards, managed to come
back to them again through another channel, so that the sacrifice,
after all, was not a very alarming one.
At length the store of those pleasant cigars, which was not a very
large one to start with, was exhausted. Then, with an indescribably
low and nasty smile, Singo and his accomplices began to point to the
opium-den where, for the same money, much more real enjoyment could
be obtained.
In that wretched hole some girls were publicly seated on the rough
benches, and with their shapely fingers were daintily rolling the
little balls of opium, and casting seductive looks, coupled with
wanton gestures, at the poor victims who stood gazing at the open
door of that fatal den without being able quite to pluck up the
courage to enter. Alas! for many of them, the temptation was too
strong. Excited by the poison which they had already imbibed in
considerable quantity--seduced by the wanton allurements of those
fair women--first one gave way, then another, and although that night
not every compartment of the opium-den was occupied, yet the Chinamen
who kept it had every reason to be satisfied.
When Lim Yang Bing was told of the result of that night's work he
rubbed his hands together as he chuckled, that "Singomengolo is really
an invaluable fellow--I must not lose sight of him."