UNDER THE WARIENGIEN TREE. IN THE OPIUM-DEN.
The passangrahan did not turn out so very bad after all. The Loerah
had managed to get together six mattresses and, somewhere or other,
he had found six pillows also. Whether these things were clean or
not, the miserable flicker of the little oil-lamp which hung in the
middle of the apartment, did not reveal. The Loerah, however, had
surpassed himself--he had actually provided six chairs. Very crazy
and very tumble-down certainly they were; but they were not wholly
unfit for use, and in a dessa like Kaligaweh might be looked upon as
"objets de luxe."
But the young people did not feel the slightest inclination to
turn in, they were as yet too much excited by the events they had
just witnessed to think of going to sleep. So they brought out the
chairs upon the aloon aloon in front of the passangrahan, and having
seated themselves in a circle they made themselves as comfortable as
circumstances would allow and lit their manillas. There was, of course,
no question of getting anything to drink in the shape of wine or beer,
still less possibility was there of obtaining a glass of grog. Unless
there are Europeans settled in a dessa, such liquors are nowhere to be
found. But the Loerah had supplied for the refreshment of his guests
an ample quantity of cocoa-nut milk, and that drink was pronounced
most excellent. Indeed it is a most delicious and very refreshing
beverage when it is obtained from a young nut before the flesh has
had time to set and harden inside the rind.
Very soon the little circle of friends was comfortably seated under a
gigantic Wariengien tree, the tall branches of which spreading out far
and wide on all sides formed a canopy which covered nearly the entire
space of the aloon aloon, and offered a most grateful shade by day,
and a shelter also against the heavy dews of night.
From the majority of the horizontal branches there grew down a number
of shoots, some as thick as a man's finger, others no thicker than a
pipestem, others again as fine as whip-cord. These shoots, as soon
as they reached the soil, struck root and then rapidly increasing
in girth, formed, as it were, a number of pillars which helped the
old giant to bear his dense mass of wood and of foliage, and greatly
enhanced the beauty of the venerable tree.
The firmament above was of the deepest blue, and wonderfully pure
and clear. In that vault of Heaven innumerable stars glittered and
twinkled in spite of the moon which, now about her full, was shedding
over the peaceful scene her soft and placid radiance.
But nature, though so calm and placid, was by no means silent. The
air was full of sounds, the strange mysterious music of a tropical
night. A gentle breeze was rustling in the branches, and amidst the
countless leaves of the colossal wild fig-tree was thus forming, so
to speak, the groundwork of a concert produced by a host of invisible
artists. In spite of the late nightly hour, a wood-pigeon would now
and then come flying home into the crown of the Wariengien tree, and
be welcomed on its return by the soft cooing of its mate. Sometimes a
solitary cock would start up and, beguiled by the bright moonbeams,
would utter his shrill musical crow, fondly imagining, no doubt,
that he was heralding the dawn of day. Every moment was heard the
sharp, piercing squeak of the swarm of bats, which, in their hunt
for insects under the canopy of leaves, glided about in a giddy
maze of intersecting and intertwining circles, ovals, spirals and
ellipses. Sometimes again from afar came the dismal cry of the
flying dogs, as on soft inaudible wing they swooped down upon some
fruit-tree in the dessa and quarrelled for the possession of some
choice manga. But all these sounds, some musical, others harsh, might
be looked upon as the solo-parts in the nameless humming concert which
prevailed on all sides and of which the performers were invisible to
human eye. In that nightly hour, wherever the ear might turn it heard
a constant quivering and throbbing sound, sometimes rising to such a
pitch that it unpleasantly affected the ear, then again dying away
like the scarcely perceptible murmur of the breeze in a cornfield,
and then suddenly ceasing for a moment or two as if to allow the
rustling of the leaves to be heard for an instant; but only to join
in chorus again with renewed vigour as if wishing to drown all other
sounds. This was the chirping of millions upon millions of the greenish
orange kind of grasshopper, which perched on every blade of grass on
the aloon aloon, and hanging from every leaf of the immense tree,
caused that sharp thrilling mass of sound which at times made the
air literally quiver with its intensely sharp notes.
Did the young men there assembled pay any heed to this mysterious
melody? Did they lend an ear to those notes which, in the tropics,
make the midnight hour more tuneful than the dull and heavy noon, when
the sun, in his full power, makes all nature thirsty and silent? Had
they an eye for that delicious night, with its soft breeze, its
glittering firmament, its quiet but glorious moonlight, its quaint and
pleasing shadows? It is doubtful whether they heard or saw anything
of all these. Indeed, they were wholly engrossed in conversation, and
that conversation most naturally ran upon the events of the day. The
dreadful scene of social misery at which they had been present was far
too powerful to be dismissed from their thoughts. That murder scene
was talked over and turned about, and looked at from every point of
view; but, the few hurried words with which Verstork, before he went
off to write his letters, had explained the matter to his friends, had
filled them, one and all, with the deepest pity for poor Setrosmito,
and for his family, in their bitter affliction.
Said Grashuis: "What untold misery does that detestable opium-policy
bring upon this, in other respects, so richly blessed island? Is it
not enough to make one hide one's head with shame at the thought that
a considerable portion of the Dutch revenue is derived from so foul
a source?"
"Tut, tut," interrupted van Beneden, "that foul source, as you call
it--I suppose you mean the opium-revenue--is in no way different from
any other tax levied on an article of luxury."
"Granted," replied Grashuis, "but, who made the inhabitants of the
Indian Archipelago acquainted with that luxury?"
"That's more than I can tell you," said the other. "I daresay it
is with opium very much as it is with drink; whence did we get
the products of distillation? Who first discovered them? I fancy
it would be no easy matter to find a satisfactory answer to those
questions. One thing, however, is quite certain, that the Dutch nation
is not responsible for the discovery of opium."
"That's true enough," replied Grashuis, "but I hardly think that a
mere negative certificate of that kind will be accepted as a proof
of good conduct."
"No, certainly not," interrupted Grenits, "for our conscience,
though it is clear of the charge of having discovered the drug, by
no means acquits us of the more serious charge of having introduced
and imported it, and--"
"Come, that's all nonsense," cried van Rheijn, "that is a mere
assertion of yours, which will not stand the test of inquiry. If you
will look into Band's well-known 'Proeve,' there you will find that
the Orientals, such as the Turks, the Persians, the Arabians, and
the Hindoos, have been for many, for very many centuries, addicted
to the use of opium. It is, therefore, most probable that when the
Dutch first came to India, they found the habit of opium-smoking
already established."
"You are quite wrong, my worthy friend," cried Grenits, interrupting
him. "You are quite wrong, for this same Band, whose authority on
the subject I am as ready to admit as you are, expressly declares
that he has not been able to discover when opium began to be used in
Dutch India. Now, this confession is, in my opinion, most significant,
coming from so distinguished a statesman as Band. For, surely, if he
had been able to prove in his treatise on opium, that its use was
common when we first arrived there, he would, for the sake of our
national honour, not have concealed so important a fact, but, on the
contrary, have made the most of it. But I go further than this. Later
on in his book, Band goes on to say that when in the sixteenth century
Europeans first began to show themselves in Indian waters, the use of
opium was known only in the Moluccas, and that, as regards the rest of
the Archipelago, its abuse existed only among a very few foreigners,
who had settled down in the different sea-ports."
"Well," asked van Rheijn, "but must we not look upon that as the
expression of a mere private opinion? What do you say?" he continued,
turning to van Nerekool. "Band, you see, was an opponent of the use
of opium."
Van Nerekool was, however, wholly engrossed in his own thoughts,
and made no reply to the question. He seemed, indeed, not to have
heard it at all.
Grenits, however, at once broke in and said:
"What? Band an opponent of opium? Where in the world did you get that
from? Certainly not out of his book, which throughout is written in
a spirit of the strictest impartiality. He cannot help mentioning
the deleterious effect of the poppy-juice; but he does so with the
utmost caution, and I defy anyone to discover in his treatise the
merest hint at a scheme, or even at a proposal for counteracting its
abuse. Just now you called Band's opinion a personal one. Well, so
far as the introduction of opium is concerned, no doubt that opinion
is personal; but, it is an opinion which has been confirmed by the
testimony of a host of distinguished travellers of his day. Read, for
instance, the voyages of such men as van Sinschoten, Cornelis Houtman,
Wijbrandt, van Warwijck, and so many others, all countrymen of ours,
and illustrious men of our heroic age, and you will find that Band
does not, by any means, stand alone in his opinion."
"I say," cried van Rheijn, not too civilly, "where the devil does a
merchant like you get all that information from?"
The discussion was, in fact, arousing some of that jealous feeling
which everywhere exists between the official and the mercantile
classes; but which is stronger, perhaps, in Dutch India than elsewhere.
Grenits replied very quietly, "It is precisely in my capacity of
merchant that I have found it necessary to study, not only all the
products of the Archipelago, but to gain all possible information
also about the imported articles of commerce which are likely to
produce the greatest profits."
"That is exactly what opium does," remarked van Rheijn, "and, for
that reason, I presume that the trade would like to get it into its
own hands."
"What the trade may like or may not like," replied Grenits very
coolly, "I neither know nor care. As far as I myself am concerned,
I would not, if I could, derive any profits from so foul a source;
and I feel quite certain that many, very many men in my position are
of the same opinion. As a proof of the truth of my words, I point
to the fact that, as far as I know, no European firm has ever made
a bid for the opium monopoly."
"Indeed," said van Rheijn, sarcastically, "and how then about the
Netherland's Handelmaatshappij?"
"The Handelmaatshappij" replied Grenits, "is a very recent offshoot
of the East India Company of unblessed memory, and is entirely
identified with the government. It is, as a matter of fact, nothing
more than the shopman in the government's grocery store. The opium
monopoly is carried on by the State, and it is, therefore, no wonder
that the 'Companie ketjil' (Javanese name for the Handelmaatshappij)
did undertake the supplying of opium. But this European Company did
not long occupy the honourable position of opium-farmer. According
to Band, the government did not make sufficiently large profits out
of the monopoly, and it was therefore decided to put it into Chinese
hands. These Chinamen knew how to carry on the abominable traffic,
and have brought it to the highest degree of development. Looking
at the question from another point of view, and considering the
names of the men who at that time were members and directors of the
Handelmaatshappij, I cannot help thinking that men so illustrious were
not at all sorry to see so dirty a source of profit closed to them."
"What are you talking about!" exclaimed van Rheijn, "with your 'dirty
source of profit?' Does not the Company trade in gin? Does not your own
firm deal in alcohol? And you, when you get to be head of a firm, will
you give up all trade in spirits, and all the profits it brings in?"
"Oh," cried Grenits, "now I see! you are one of those many men who
place abuse of opium on the same line with abuse of strong drink. But,
mark what I say, all those who, whether here or in Holland, argue
thus, are doing infinitely more mischief than they are aware of. Some
few of them, no doubt, know the real merits of the case, and are
perfectly competent, therefore, to measure the mischief they are
doing. All such men are actuated by personal motives; they have a
certain object in view, it may be of advantage or of ambition. But
by far the greater number speak thus merely to please, merely to
gain the approbation of their hearers. The good people in Holland
like to listen to such arguments. They are pleased when they hear men
who have been in India, and therefore, of course, know all about it,
say, with an air of easy superiority: 'Oh, that opium is not so very
great an evil after all. All over the world, man sometimes needs a
little stimulant. Just look at our good Mr. Pastor, he surely has the
welfare of his flock at heart, yet he does not grudge a man a modest
glass or two of gin. Let us follow that spiritual example, and let us
not grudge the poor Javanese his opium-pipe. Opium and gin, why they
come to very much the same thing in the end!' Yes, to such arguments
men open their ears willingly enough; for, though the opium monopoly
may be a dirty source of revenue, yet it does bring in lots of money;
and men are only too pleased to hear, that after all they have been
needlessly disquieting themselves, and that there is really no need
of putting an end to so considerable a source of gain."
"Well, my good friend Grenits, you must pardon me for saying so; but
I also am one of those who not only silently approve of the argument,
but who are prepared openly and loudly to maintain that gin and opium,
inasmuch as they are both intoxicants, stand on precisely the same
level. I maintain that the abuse of either is injurious, and that
the one does not much more harm than the other."
It was August van Beneden who thus came to the rescue of van
Rheijn. The latter looked round triumphantly, as he exclaimed:
"Hear, hear! You see, gentlemen, I am not the only one who holds
those views. Bravo, August!"
"Of course," said Grenits, quickly, "you are quite right in saying
that spirituous liquors are injurious for--"
"I say, Grenits," cried Grashuis, with a laugh, "mind the members of
your club at the Hague don't hear that."
"For," continued Grenits, without paying any heed to the interruption,
"for the abuse of spirits also arises from a craving after pleasure
and oblivion and proves a want of will-power to resist that craving,
even when its satisfaction is purchased at the price of self-respect,
domestic happiness and health. To deny that, would be to prove myself
ignorant of the labours of Father Matthew, and so many other friends of
total abstinence. But, you will pardon me if I adhere to the opinion I
have already expressed, that in thus placing the abuse of opium on the
same level with the abuse of alcohol shows an ignorance of established
facts and an ignorance also of the literature of our colonies with
regard to opium. For, remember, my friends, our own countrymen,
such men as van Linschoten, Valentijn, Band, van Dedem and I do not
know how many more stigmatise opium as an aphrodisiac--as a powerful
means of exciting unclean passions. Van Linschoten in the account of
his travels, plainly speaks of certain effects of the abuse of opium
which, though we are men together here, I could not venture to repeat;
and foreign travellers most fully confirm his testimony. The learned
Chinaman Li Schi Ischin in his Chinese Pharmacopoeia, which was
written as early as 1596, tells us that the common people in China,
made use of opium chiefly as an aphrodisiac. The German traveller
Miklucho-Maclay in 1873, after he had made personal experiments
at Hong Kong in opium smoking, has noted down certain details with
which I cannot bring myself to pollute your ears. Now all this ought,
I think, to give us much food for reflection. And when we find men
like Rochussen, Loudon, Hasselman, van Bosse, and many others, who,
the one as Governor General, and the other as Colonial Secretary,
some of them in both capacities, have stood up in their place in
parliament, and have openly spoken of opium as an evil, as a most
terrible evil, indeed as a poison and a pest, why then, I think,
it will not be very difficult to come to the conclusion, that the
effects and the consequences of the abuse of opium are of a different
nature altogether, and are infinitely more fatal than those which
result from the abuse of alcohol."
"Would you not like," said van Beneden, "just merely for the sake of
experiment, to try opium smoking? I, for myself, very much wish to
know what its effects really are."
"So would I," said van Rheijn, "and we could make the experiment
easily enough."
"How so?" asked Grashuis. "For us Europeans, opium is not easy to
get, and surely we could not go to the opium den and smoke there,
and make ourselves a laughing-stock of the people."
"No, we could hardly do that," said van Rheijn; "but among my
acquaintances, I count one Lim Ho the son of the great opium-farmer. I
know, if I ask him, he will procure me a few madat balls."
"Contraband, I suppose," said Grenits, with a laugh.
"You know those opium farmers are the greatest smugglers!"
"What does that matter?" said van Rheijn. "Opium is opium I suppose;
I shall, no doubt, be able to get a pipe, and as soon as I have
got the things, I will let you know, and then we shall meet at my
house. We shall draw lots, and the one upon whom the lot falls,
shall submit himself to the experiment, while the others look on,
and make notes. Is that a bargain?"
"Aye, aye!" they all cried, all except van Nerekool, who was still
abstracted, and deeply plunged in his own thoughts.
"Meanwhile," continued van Rheijn, "I feel bound in fairness to
confess that our friend Grenits has defended his position in a most
masterly way. Indeed I must say that I had not expected to find
so much knowledge in matters concerning the opium monopoly, in a
commercial man."
Grenits merely smiled, it was a bitter smile; but he was too much
accustomed to such remarks from members of the official corps to take
offence at them.
"But," continued van Rheijn, "with all his arguments, he will never
persuade me that opium is a cause of greater misery, and that opium
is a greater curse to a country than strong drink."
While this discussion had been going on, Verstork had written his
reports and had sent them off to the authorities at Santjoemeh, and
he had got back to the passangrahan in time to hear Grenits speak of
the evils of opium smoking. He also heard his friend van Rheijn make
his last assertion. He thereupon at once put in his word.
"Well, gentlemen," said he, "we have just now the fairest possible
opportunity of satisfying ourselves as to the truth of Mr. Grenits'
argument. The opportunity is, in fact, too good to be neglected. You
are here in one of the most wretched of all dessas which are the
victims of the opium-monopoly. It is not very long ago that this
same Kaligaweh was remarkable as one of the cleanest, neatest, and
most prosperous of all our Javanese villages. Now, look round about
you. Everything is neglected, and is falling into decay. The huts are,
almost all, tumbling to ruin--the roads, which lead to the dessa, and
which run through it, are mere pools of mud, and of the well-trimmed
and beautiful hedges, which once separated these roads from the
fields, not a vestige now remains. It is hardly ten o'clock as yet,
and the opium-den is not yet closed. The inhabitants, moreover, are
in a state of excitement owing to that murder, and are also disturbed
by the presence of so many European gentlemen. They are, therefore,
wide awake. In the opium-den you will be able to feast your eyes,
and satisfy your curiosity."
At the proposal all the young men had jumped to their feet--all but
van Nerekool who, with his head still resting on his hand, seemed
unconscious of what was going on around him.
"Come, Charles," said Verstork, laying his hand on his friend's
shoulder, "come, Charles, you will come along with us, won't you?"
The young lawyer started as if awakened out of a dream.
"Where are you going to?" asked he, with so genuine an air of surprise,
as made it evident that he had not heard one word of what was going
on around him.
Said Verstork, "We are off to the opium-den."
"To the opium-den!" cried van Nerekool, in a tone of alarm, "to the
opium-den, surely you are not going--"
"To smoke," said Verstork. "No, no, my friend, you need not be alarmed,
we are only going to have a look. But," continued he, "gentlemen,
you must make up your minds to see some very unpleasant sights, for,
I think, to-night the den happens to be very full.
"But, wait a bit, if you intend really to gain some insight into
these opium matters, we must--"
And, turning to one of the policemen who was always in attendance,
he said:
"Sariman, run and call the two Chinamen of the opium-store--tell them
I want to speak to them, at once."
"Very well, kandjeng toean."
"One moment, gentlemen! Otherwise you would miss the most interesting
part of the show."
They had but a very short time to wait, for the two Chinamen came
running up as soon as they received the message:
"Come, quick, quick, the noble noble lord calls you!"
When the Chinamen reached the group, Verstork said to his friends:
"Now, then, gentlemen, let us go."
"But," said one of the Chinamen, in a somewhat insolent tone of voice,
when he saw that his presence was wholly ignored, "But you sent for
us, sir."
"Hold your tongue, babah," said Verstork, briefly; "we are going to
pay a visit to your opium-den. You come along with us."
"To the opium-den!" cried the babah, "then I will go, and--"
"You stay here with me; both of you," said the Controller in a tone
of authority which they dared not disobey.
The two Celestials interchanged looks; but they did not utter one word,
and silently followed the gentlemen.
The opium-den at Kaligaweh lay behind the chapel at the eastern
extremity of the aloon aloon. The visitors, therefore, had but a couple
of hundred yards to walk before they reached that noble establishment
licensed by the Dutch rulers of the soil.
No, certainly, it was not a proud building, raising its head
majestically, in the glorious consciousness of being one of the many
suckers which replenish the Dutch exchequer. Not at all. Its outward
appearance would not lead anyone to suspect that it was one of the
conduits of the great opium monopoly--that fearful force--that section
pump, which pours millions upon millions into the treasury.
No, a thousand times, no! It was a squalid, filthy little bamboo
building, which looked like an old tumble-down barn or shed. The
walls were partially rotten by long neglect, and gave out the peculiar
musty smell of decaying bamboo. The roof, bulging in here and there,
threatened to fall in upon the heads of the visitors within. The entire
structure was a picture of decay and desolation, and the inside of
the den completely corresponded with its pitiful exterior. The space
within those mouldy walls and that half-rotten roof was extremely
low, and the damp atmosphere was not only stuffy and close, but was
permeated with the offensive sickly sweetish smell which is the
invariable and unmistakable characteristic of burning opium. The
floor of the den was the bare ground and the soil had not even been
levelled and beaten down as is the case in almost all Javanese cabins;
but was most uneven, great black lumps sticking up all over it which
the bare feet of the Javanese and the hard soles of the Chinamen had
polished till they looked shining as marble.
Here and there, the smoky gleam of a dirty petroleum lamp revealed a
wet patch or a little pool of greenish brown water of most suspicious
appearance which affected most unpleasantly the organs both of sight
and smell.
As the gentlemen were about to enter the low door of the den, one
of the Chinamen tried to utter a note of warning; but Verstork, who
was keeping an eye on him, would not let him utter a sound and in a
threatening tone of voice whispered to him:
"Be quiet, babah."
When the visitors had entered they found themselves in a small square
apartment at the end of which was a partition with two doors and a
small opening.
"That door," said the Controller, who acted as guide, pointing to one
of them, "opens into a little room in which one of the storekeepers
generally sits, and through that little square opening hands to the
customers bits of red paper covered with Chinese characters. The
buyers of opium have to pay ready money for one of these tickets
which represents a greater or smaller quantity of tjandoe according
to the price paid. With that bit of paper the purchaser then vanishes
through that other door."
"What a beastly hole, to be sure!" remarked Grenits.
"Oh!" replied Verstork, "this is only the anteroom. Wait until you
get inside and then you will see something much better than this."
Thus speaking he pushed open the second bamboo door which did not
turn on hinges but was fastened to the door-post with loops and ran
squeaking and scraping along a bit of smooth wood. This door gave
access to a narrow passage which would have been in total darkness
but for the hazy light of a few wretched oil-wicks which could only
just be seen glimmering, through the chinks of the bamboo partition
on either side. In this passage the atmosphere was still more stuffy
and the nasty smell of the madat still more nauseous. The floor of
the passage was so uneven, so slippery and so indescribably filthy,
that it required the greatest care to keep on one's legs at all,
and to prevent oneself from slipping down full length into the soapy
mud. This passage ran down the centre of the barn and on either side
of it were rows of pens twelve in number, the entire barn being thus
divided into twenty-four partitions. The partition walls did not
exceed four or five feet in height, so that from one pen one could
easily look into another. These compartments had each a door which
opened upon the passage in which the European visitors were standing.
"May we open one of these doors?" asked van Beneden, as he stretched
out his hand to one of them.
"You may not, sir!" cried one of the Chinamen who, having noticed
the gesture, understood the meaning of the question.
"Hold you tongue, will you!" said Verstork, in a loud tone of
voice. "You be off, out of the place altogether."
And after the Chinaman had disappeared, he turned to his friends, and
said: "I do not think you will care to go into those filthy holes. We
can see well enough what is going on inside through the chinks in the
partitions and doors, indeed, I believe, we shall thus see more than
if we were to enter."
"Look," continued he, "there you have a smoker in the first stage
of intoxication."
Yes! there, on the baleh baleh, lay a Javanese. There he lay on the
only article of furniture which the den could boast of, stretched out
full length, and half reclining on his side. He had thrown off his
head-cloth, and his Long black hair floated over the disgustingly
filthy pillow on the bench. His eyes, which betrayed his ecstatic
condition, were half closed, and every now and then, he brought
with his right hand the bowl of his opium pipe to the tiny flame
which was flickering on a bit of wick dipping in a little saucer
of oil. As he did so his head, partly supported on his left hand,
would be slightly bent forward, as he took the thick bamboo stem of
the pipe between his lips. Then, very slowly, he inhaled the smoke of
the kindling opium. After a few puffs, he put down the pipe and turned
over on his back, his head thrown back upon the pillow. The smoker now
closed his eyes entirely, and strained with might and main to swallow
the smoke he had inhaled. As soon as he had succeeded in doing this,
he lay quite still while a look of satisfaction and enjoyment passed
over his countenance. That look of satisfaction, however, offered
the strangest contrast with the whole exterior appearance of the man,
even with the features on which it appeared. Before lying down on the
baleh baleh, he had flung aside his vest, and now lay covered only
by his shirt which was the filthiest and most loathsome rag imaginable.
The man was as lean as a skeleton, and would have been admirably fitted
to take his place at the Danse Macabre. The faint light of the little
palita showed every rib in his body, and the dark shadows which they
cast, showed how deep were the cavities between that trellis work
of bone. His arms were like sticks encased in brown leather-like
skin. His legs were not visible, being covered by the sarong; but
the appearance of the feet, which protruded from under the garment,
proved that like the arms the legs also were nothing but skin and
bone. When the man had, for awhile, held the smoke which he had
swallowed, he blew it out again very slowly through his nostrils,
a proceeding which it took some time to accomplish--then he turned
over on his side and appeared to fall into a deep sleep. At that
sight a female form, which had been crouching in one corner of the
compartment, and had thus remained unnoticed, rose up and made for
the door. The poor creature had been present there all the time--In
her haste to leave the wretched little apartment, she nearly ran up
against the European gentlemen.
"Oh, heavens! the devil!" she cried; but, in the darkness, she could
not recognise anyone, and so she hurried into a neighbouring recess.
In that recess, the spectacle was more horrifying still. There,
stretched out on the baleh baleh, lay an old Javanese. He was as
angular, as emaciated, and as much wasted away, as the other man;
but he was in another stage of intoxication. He had smoked more than
one madat ball, hence he was in a different state of ecstasy. His
hollow, sunken eyes glittered with unwonted fire; his breast heaved,
and his face wore a bestial grin, the lower jaw protruding far beyond
the upper stamping the features with the mark of the brutal passions
which were raging within. The upper part of his body also was bare,
but the violence of the passions which possessed him caused his entire
frame to heave and quiver, and had made him cast aside even his sarong,
so that now he lay there in the state in which the patriarch Noah
was discovered by his sons.
No sooner had the creaking door given admittance to the woman than
he called out sharply to her:
"Where have you been all this time? Come, make haste, get me another
pipe."
The wretched creature obeyed without a murmur. She advanced to the
baleh baleh, took some tandjoe out of a small box, warmed it at the
flame of the palita, and then mixed it with a little very finely cut
tobacco. Then she rolled it in her fingers into a little ball about
the size of a large pea, put this into the bowl of the opium pipe,
and handed it to the wretched smoker.
During these operations, and when she leaned forward to hand him
the pipe, the miserable smoker, no longer master of his passions,
and wholly unable to restrain himself, had acted in a manner so
outrageously indecent, that Grashuis cried out:
"Oh, this is too revolting! Come, let us be off, I cannot stand it
any longer."
Just at that moment a cry was heard a little further down the
half-dark passage.
"Good God, this is most infamous! Is it possible--Let us get out--Let
us get out, friends--fire from Heaven will fall upon us and consume
us!"
It was van Beneden who had walked a few steps further down the passage,
and had been peering into one of the recesses down there. Now he
wildly rushed out of the place, dragging his friends almost by main
force along with him.
"What in the world is the matter with you?" asked Grenits.
"Oh, I can't tell you what I have seen," cried August van Beneden,
hardly able to speak plainly in his excitement. "Come along."
"Now no false modesty," said Grashuis; "we have come here on purpose
to gain what information we can about the horrors of opium, and so each
one of us must tell his experience. What was it you saw, Theodoor?"
"Don't ask me," cried Theodoor Grenits. "It is really too abominable;
such things must not be uttered--And the victim--was a little Javanese
girl--she struggled frightfully."
"Aye," said van Rheijn, "I thought I heard screaming."
"And can we do nothing? Come, Verstork, you as Controller--"
But Verstork restrained his companions who were preparing once again
to rush into the den.
"I shall take good care," said he, "not to meddle in any opium
matters. They, at Batavia, would very soon find me wholly unfit to
hold any government appointment and, however revolting a deed may
be, I should find no support in van Gulpendam my superior officer at
Santjoemeh. My whole career would be ruined--No, my friends, I must
let things take their course."
"But," cried Grenits, "I am not bound by any such considerations--I
will--"
"You will keep quiet I hope," said Verstork to his friend who was
trying to make his way once again into the opium den. "Remember that
I am in your company, and that even if you went in there quite alone
you would still compromise me by your rash and foolish action. I beg
you therefore--Here! you see the child is coming out."
As Verstork spoke a little Javanese girl hardly ten years of age came
rushing out of the loathsome den, she sobbed and moaned as she ran
past the European gentlemen.
"Oh this is fearful--this is fearful," cried Grenits, "and then to
have to stand still while such horrors are going on! I should like
to--But--" continued he as he turned to van Beneden, "will you still
maintain that opium is in its effects to be compared to drink."
August van Beneden did not reply; but the deepest indignation was
visible in his countenance.
"Come," said Verstork, as he tried to calm his friend, "let us
not remain standing here, men, women and children are beginning to
crowd round."
"Those people," cried Grenits, "were just now looking on at those
filthy scenes through the chinks of the bamboo walls."
"And," said van Beneden, "the opium farmers did not try to prevent
them, but seemed on the contrary to encourage them. I could see it
all plainly enough."
"Come," said Verstork again, "let us be off. Let us go and sit down
again under the Wariengien tree. Oppas," continued he to one of the
policemen who always kept near him, "you go and tell these dessa
people that they are to go home--it is time for all to go to sleep."