A STRANGE DAYAK—PAINTING A COMPLEXION—SHEIK MOHAMMED AL MANSOER—TOO
HANDSOME FOR A DAYAK—IN THE FOREST MARSHES—DASSO AND DOETA—TWO
BOTTLES OF DOCTORED GIN—THE BIRDS WINGED.
At day-break the Europeans roused the sleeping Dayaks from their
slumber. Johannes took Dalim aside and engaged with him in earnest
conversation, while the others prepared to cook some rice and fish for
breakfast. After Dalim had finished his conversation he went into the
thick forest and in a few moments disappeared from view. Johannes
produced the clothes which Baba Poetjieng had provided, selected what
he required for his own use and then jumped into the river for his
morning bath. Having sufficiently refreshed himself he came out, seized
his bundle and retired behind some shrubs. He soon reappeared dressed
as a Dayak, mandauw in hand, and throwing himself among the other
bathers, frightened them out of their wits. They were speedily
re-assured, however, by hearing a well-known voice exclaiming, “Don’t
be afraid, Palefaces!” The strange Dayak was Johannes, who, dressed in
an ewah or coarse cloth wound around his middle and with a dirty rag
around his head, stood before them effectually disguised. Ere they had
sufficiently looked at and admired the extemporized native, Dalim
returned from the woods. He proceeded to take a pan in which he threw
some leaves which he had brought from the forest, adding a little water
and a few drops of a black pigment from a bottle hanging to his waist.
He then placed the pan on the fire and joined the others at breakfast.
By the time they had concluded the meal his mixture boiled. He then
removed it from the fire and requested Schlickeisen, who sat nearest to
him, to hold out his hands. He rubbed them for a little while with a
rag steeped in the solution and almost instantaneously imparted to them
a deep-brown color. When the hands had been tinted to his satisfaction
he seized the Swiss by the neck and proceeded in the same manner to
stain his face, arms and shoulders. The operation finished,
Schlickeisen was unrecognizable. Johannes thought that the whole of the
white men’s bodies should be subjected to the treatment to ensure
perfect safety. All concurring in this opinion, Dalim returned to the
woods to collect such a supply of leaves as would enable him to dye
wholesale. These leaves were taken from the kalampoeit, a tree of the
rhododendron tribe, which also supplies the Dayaks with poison for
their arrows. In the decoction they were employed only as a mordant to
fix the dye, the pigment being supplied from Dalim’s bottle, which
contained the juice of the katiting, a tree belonging to the
Rhizophora.
An hour afterward all the Europeans were beautifully bronzed and
strutting about in their ewahs were fair imitators of natives. Only La
Cueille failed to produce the true Dayak type. His sharply-cut
features, glittering eyes, handsome whiskers and curly hair gave him
rather the appearance of an Arab. In consequence, he was unanimously
elected Sheik and dignified with the title of Mohammed al Mansoer. This
promotion gave him the advantage of wearing a chlamyde, a kind of
shirt. Around his head he wore a turban, his feet were sandaled and he
was required to carry a rosary, the beads of which went gliding through
his fingers in a most familiar manner.
He had great trouble with his sandals and could scarcely manage to
shuffle along on the flat soles, secured to his feet by a pin between
two toes. However, after diligent practice, the difficulty was overcome
and he marched along stately and sanctified, muttering in bad Arabic,
“There is no God but Allah,” just as if he had been born in Arabia
Petrea.
It was now arranged that in their meetings with natives, only Johannes
and the real Dayaks were to speak. The two Swiss were to personate
hirelings and to preserve a becoming silence. The Sheik would only have
to mutter some Malay lingo, intermixed with an Arabic word or two and
an occasional verse from the Koran, which Johannes engaged to teach
him. A final operation necessary to be undergone by the other three was
the coloring of their teeth. This too was effected by means of Dalim’s
bottle, which soon converted their ivory into polished ebony.
“You really are too handsome for Dayaks,” said Dalim; nor was he wrong
to think so, for though the Europeans exposed the broad chests and
finely-developed arms and shoulders proper to their assumed caste, they
lacked the crooked legs to which the inhabitants of Borneo owe their
name. Dayak is really an abbreviation of dadajak—to totter. With very
few exceptions all the natives have bandy legs, which circumstance
causes their peculiar tottering gait. This physical deformity is the
result of the position they are compelled to assume while sitting in
their canoes. But though their natural fondness for the sea thus
attenuates and deforms their lower extremities, the upper parts of
their bodies become so developed as to make them fit models for the
sculptor.
The disguise of the deserters being effected, they tied their military
clothes in a bundle, to which they attached a heavy stone and sank it
in the deepest part of the river. They then resumed their route and
tried to get further up the soengei; but it proved a difficult task to
accomplish. The Dahasan is nothing but one of the many side canals of
an enormous marsh thickly studded with forests. Large creepers abound
everywhere, bridging over the numerous rivulets, climbing the great
trees and covering their tops with a dense growth of parasitical plants
which forms, as it were, an elevated vegetable plateau.
The creeper most generally found among the trees of these primeval
forests is the rattan, called oeai by the natives. It runs along the
ground, covering everything it meets with a network of branches which
only the powerful hatchet can clear away. It is covered with sharp
thorns which make it a most formidable obstruction to all who travel
through these wilds.
The seven men soon waded through the water on the bed of the soengei.
Five of them, hatchet in hand, tried to remove the creepers at the cost
of much laborious exertion and many painful scratches. The other two
walked along the margin of the channel, pushing the boat through the
tortuous passage which was in reality only a pathway made in the soft
mud by some passing canoe. It was an almost superhuman labor and the
united strength of the whole party was often in requisition to free the
roof of their vessel from its entanglement among the overhanging
branches.
At mid-day they had proceeded a few miles only, but they felt so
exhausted that they were compelled to rest. The water too had been left
so low by the receding tide that the boat seemed fixed in the mud.
Nothing would move her, so they were compelled to wait for the next
flood.
Making use of the compulsory rest, they prepared their dinner. To this
meal the Dayaks brought a welcome contribution by catching some
bapoejoes among the holes of the half-drained river-bed. The bapoejoe
is like the perch in shape and size, only differing from it by the
absence of dorsal fins. These fish are of social habits and travel in
large numbers along the inundated tracks. If overtaken by the ebb-tide
and left aground, they still, as if by instinct, make their way through
the mud to the nearest pool. Thus they frequently remain out of the
water for days together and it is really a curious sight to see
hundreds of fishes struggling through the mud in a certain direction,
steadily prosecuting their journey despite the difficulties interposed.
Having finished their meal the Dayaks went out to gather rattan, as
provision for their possible requirements during their travels. They
cut some pieces thirty or forty yards long from one species, rolled
them up carefully and put them away among their stores to be employed
as ropes. From other species, used in Europe for seating chairs and
similar canework, they cut the usual lengths, removed the thorny bark
and tied them in bundles of one hundred each. These should have been
soaked in the river to prevent their speedy decay; but as time was of
value they contented themselves with the crude withe and took their
chance of replenishing their supply when required. While the Dayaks
were thus occupied the others were resting from their fatigue and
gathering strength to recommence their labors. But although their limbs
rested, their tongues kept going, talking over and deliberating on
their plans, Johannes continuing to remind his co-adventurers of the
necessity for vigilance.
“Remember,” said he, “if the Colonel gets informed of our presence in
this neighborhood he would hunt us down. Aye, let him discover our
track and he is the very man to follow it up. No power on earth would
prevent his doing so. Shall I tell you some of his artifices? Did you
ever hear of his capture of Dasso and Doeta? It is part of the history
of Kwala Kapoeas.”
“I have heard it spoken of,” said Schlickeisen, “but I don’t know the
story. Who were they?”
“Listen,” resumed Johannes, “and I will tell you.”
“Dasso and Doeta were Dayaks of Poeloe Petak and were well connected
there as well as at Kwala Kapoeas. I believe our Dalim is a
half-brother of Dasso. Well both these men and the Dayaks that are now
accompanying us were engaged in the coal mines of Kalangan, at the
outbreak of the insurrection, and all five of them did their share in
the massacre of the Europeans.”
“You have introduced us to quite a select company,” remarked
Schlickeisen. “Can we trust these people?”
“I believe you can trust them more than you could any other natives.
They are anxious to reach Singapore and need our assistance to do so.
They will be very useful to us and render us good service in more ways
than one. Their very presence among us will secure us from being
betrayed to the palefaces by any Dayak.”
“So far, so good; but suppose they betray us themselves?”
“That is not likely, with their past record and their present plan.”
“Yet it will be well to be wary and prepared for everything. Now
continue your narrative.”
“Dasso and Doeta were reported to have committed the most horrible
atrocities during the massacre of Europeans. After a time the two
wretches returned to the neighborhood of the fort, where they
established themselves. The Colonel became informed of this fact and
was most eager to entrap them. Besides the horrible crimes of which
they had been guilty it was observed that after their arrival in the
district a general spirit of insubordination became manifest, which
excited grave apprehensions of future trouble. You cannot imagine what
marches we had to make in the effort to secure these fellows. Twice and
sometimes three times a day detachments were sent off and night
expeditions were organized in order to entrap them; but all without
success. Dead-tired, exhausted by hunger and thirst, wet to the skin
and covered with mud from wading for hours through streams and marshes
we returned from our wild goose chase. All our efforts had been
unavailing. When we arrived at the place where they were reported to be
concealed, we found the birds had flown, though their rice was boiling
over their recently kindled fires and their beds were still warm.”
“But I should have thought,” remarked Schlickeisen, “that with the
assistance of the natives the capture of these blackguards would have
been an easy matter.”
“Well, so we thought; but the people actually assisted them to elude
us. Nearly all the inhabitants of this district are related to them. As
soon as a detachment went out in pursuit their friends signalled to
them and then we might march and countermarch until further orders. One
afternoon, however, I found the Commander lounging in his rocking-chair
under the verandah of his house. He was in deep thought. He stared
fixedly at the ground, but his nails were clenched and he pulled his
moustaches as if bent upon extracting them by the roots. I thought
something was brewing. Suddenly he called for an orderly and despatched
him for a sailor who was on board a steamer stationed in the river. The
sailor came and went. I was then summoned and ordered to bring two
bottles of gin, to remove the capsules and draw the corks without
disturbing the wax. I thought the Colonel wanted a dram; but instead of
indulging he went to his medicine-chest and took out some morphia
powders. These he put into the bottles, which he shook up well and
ordered me to re-cork. He then replaced the capsules and I assure you
no druggist could have done it better.
“In the evening the sailor came again and this time carried off with
him the two bottles. He stepped into a djoekoeng and rowed up the river
Kapoeas. A few hours after, Sergeant Greefkes and eight soldiers took
the same direction. About two o’clock in the morning, being on duty at
the western bastion, I saw a boat approaching. I sang out my challenge,
‘Who goes there?’ and was answered by the rejoinder, ‘Good friends.’ At
the same time a red light was displayed from the boat as a signal. When
it was moored three men were lifted out who were so fast asleep that
nothing seemed to disturb them. Two were immediately placed in the
stocks; they were Dasso and Doeta. You should have seen their faces
next morning when they woke up to find themselves in limbo.
“Now you must know that the sailor, a Bandjares by birth, had formerly
been a miner at Kalangan and therefore knew them well. For a few paltry
dollars he sought them out and betrayed them by the agency of the
bottle. The Dayaks, like a certain friend of ours, are passionately
fond of spirits and the doctored gin brought by the sailor was disposed
of with so much freedom that when the sergeant arrived he had only to
bind the murderers hand and foot and carry them to the boats.”
“How were they punished?”
“They were tried by court-martial; but before the conclusion of the
trial that famous amnesty was proclaimed which granted a free pardon to
all concerned in the rebellion with few exceptions. Those exceptions
were good and worthy men who had only been defending themselves against
oppression, and they were denied the grace extended to robbers and
murderers! Our desperadoes were liberated on the sole condition that
they should report themselves once a week at the nearest military
station. I never heard our Colonel curse and swear as he did when the
two came the first time to report themselves to him. ‘Oh!’ he cried,
after their backs were turned, ‘if I could have foreseen this wretched
farce those wretches would never have entered the fort alive.’ And
every well-disposed person will coincide with him.”