HARIMAOUNG BOEKIT’S NARRATIVE—EVENTS AT KOTTA BAROE—COUNCIL OF
WAR—COALS—ARRIVAL AT KOTTA DJANGKAN—TAKING IN AMMUNITION AND
PROVISIONS—A WOMAN CAGED—WIENERSDORF BECOMES DESPERATE—JOHANNES
REASONS
When the rangkan came alongside the canoe, the Poenan chief told our
adventurers that upon the arrival of his party at kotta Baroe on the
preceding night, they had found everything in the greatest confusion.
There was a state barge moored to the shore and a throng of people
assembled, as if some important enterprise was in progress. Impelled by
curiosity, Harimaoung Boekit had gone ashore and learned that a white
officer from Kwala Kapoeas, whom he described as carrying a long
mandauw, had called the populace together and ordered them to pursue a
canoe which contained some escaped fugitives. He had made a requisition
for two hundred and fifty armed men, with the necessary complement of
canoes—a demand which caused no little dissatisfaction. The Poenan,
upon hearing all this, immediately concluded that they meant to capture
the very men who had so generously spared his own life, and he at once
determined to warn and if necessary to assist them. He therefore crept
back to his rangkan as quietly as he had left it, and upon regaining it
beckoned to some of his mates and at once repeated his information.
When Harimaoung Boekit had ended his narrative, the fugitives looked at
each other in anxious amazement. They had never expected to be followed
by the Dutch so closely and so quickly. They had in fact calculated
that they were at least ten days in advance of their pursuers. What was
now to be done?
“On, on!” Wienersdorf cried, “our only safety is in flight.”
“No,” Johannes said, “since the Colonel is so close upon us flight can
be of little use. He has decidedly left kotta Baroe by this time, and
having impressed a sufficient number of natives into his service, he
will have a larger complement of oarsmen than we.”
“But what else can we do?”
Johannes did not answer, but addressing the Poenan chief, he asked,
“Were there any white men among the Commander’s crew?”
“I looked most carefully,” said the Poenan, “but could not discern a
single paleface except the one you call the Colonel.”
“No white soldiers among them; that is worth knowing. But perhaps he
has an escort of Javan soldiers, who are even less easy to deal with,”
Johannes muttered to himself. “Were any of them armed?” he further
asked.
“The paleface carried a small gun in his hand and a slave bearing a
rifle was continually following close behind him. The rest were armed
with their mandauws and most of them had a blow pipe for poisoned
arrows or a lance. The chief of Kwala Kapoeas, whom I know well, was
the only one who carried a rifle. But—”
The Poenan now whispered something to Johannes.
“That can be tried,” the latter answered, his face brightening, and
addressing his companions, he said,
“If we can only reach kotta Djangkan, our chances will be better and we
may hope again. Now, row on!”
Loud acclamations followed. The rangkan was taken in tow and the roof
of the canoe was lowered. Harimaoung’s companions placed themselves
among the oarsmen, so that the vessel, now impelled by forty-four oars,
shot along with the speed of lightning, rivalling the fastest steamer.
The Poenans stood up, as they usually do in their canoes, between the
seated oarsmen, and in this position used their long oars without any
hindrance to the others. They were fine men, tall head-hunters with
great broad chests and muscular arms. They were dressed in full war
costume, ornamented by two long plumes of the rhinoceros bird and wore
coats of mail fastened over thick jackets of beaten bark. Both garments
were open in front and displayed their bodies handsomely tattooed with
designs as beautiful as if limned by the pencil of an artist. Their
shields, painted with the oddest arabesques, were borne against the
lower parts of their bodies, while from their waists depended their
mandauws, proudly ornamented with numerous locks of hair.
As soon as the canoe was in full progress, Johannes called the two
Swiss, the Walloon, and Harimaoung Boekit to the stern of the boat,
where Dalim was already seated in charge of the tiller. They then
proceeded to concoct measures to be adopted at kotta Djangkan. This was
a strongly palisaded fort built on the Kapoeas River, in a very
commanding position.
Five hundred souls, including nearly eighty warriors, lived within the
walls of this kotta, which thus formed what almost every kotta in the
interior of Borneo really is, a strongly fortified kampong. Its chief
was an old man named Amai Kotong, who also commanded the kotta Mawat
and Brobok, situated on the soengei Mawat.
Amai Kotong was a Poenan by birth. As the son of a great chief residing
at soengei Miri, he had married an Ot Danom wife and afterward
established himself on the banks of the Kapoeas. He had seen his riches
increase by the spoil of several marauding expeditions, but his fortune
had been chiefly made by gold digging. He was uncle to Harimaoung
Boekit and had always held the son of his elder brother in great
esteem. The Poenan chief therefore looked forward to a favorable
reception and hoped for valuable assistance at kotta Djangkan.
Such was the information now briefly conveyed by Johannes to his
audience.
“And what is the purpose of all this detail?”
“The purpose is simply this,” was the rather angry reply, “that we take
up our residence in kotta Djangkan and quietly await the result. If we
should be attacked, we will not fail to defend ourselves bravely.”
“I really believe it safer to continue our flight; no vessel afloat can
overtake us at our present speed.”
“But can we keep up that speed?” Johannes interrupted vehemently. “We
may consider ourselves lucky if we can do so until to-night, when we
may perhaps reach kotta Djangkan. If we could change oarsmen from time
to time it would be different, but we cannot do so. Our pursuers, I
will lay any wager, have before this taken in fresh men. But courage!
let us face the situation like men; we have nothing to do but to defend
ourselves. You will see that a favorable result will crown our
efforts.”
“God grant it,” Wienersdorf sighed.
“Amen!” cried La Cueille, “and now I think we had better give a hand at
the oars. Four pair of European arms like ours are not to be despised,
and the greater the distance between those cheese-heads and us the
better.”
The journey was now continued with increased energy. While rowing the
four Europeans observed between the white sand of the various
projecting angles some large lumps of a black substance. La Cueille’s
attention had been especially drawn to them, but he had not been able
to distinguish their nature on account of the rapidity with which the
canoe was proceeding. But arriving at one of the projections, just as
their boat approached the objects, he leaped into the shallow water,
grasped some of them and reappeared in the canoe again before it had
rounded the point.
“Nom d’un chien!” he cried, enthusiastically showing his prize, “real
coal and of the best sort I can assure you. And this is found here
along the banks of the river?”
“Keep cool,” Johannes laughed, “you will see plenty more and may gather
it if you like. But I am heartily glad to see it here. It is a sure
sign that we are approaching kotta Djangkan. Three or four considerable
strata of coal run through the hill upon which the kotta is situated
and the deepest of these is said to yield capital fuel.”
“That is indeed a treasure,” La Cueille observed.
“Yes, it would be if properly used. But the Dayak never troubles
himself about coal. His forests produce sufficient wood to render coals
superfluous to him. And in many places the use of it is prohibited to
him as rendering him unclean. As for the Dutch——”
Johannes was here interrupted by one of the oarsmen calling out that
kotta Djangkan was in sight ahead. Truly enough, there lay the
fortification high on the hill. The numerous tall masts, reaching above
the palisades, all of them ornamented with bleached skulls,
considerably increased the impression produced upon the Europeans by
their first glimpse of this formidable place. Near the bank of the
river a tomoi was erected, from which a ladder descended to the water.
The canoe halted there and the Poenan chief stepped on shore. After a
short time Harimaoung reappeared, accompanied by his uncle Amai Kotong,
a stolid elderly Dayak, who informed our friends that the kotta was
altogether at their disposal. He had hardly spoken his welcome when the
oarsmen sprang ashore and commenced, under supervision of Dalim, to
unload the canoe.
After a preliminary introduction to their host the Europeans also set
to work. The day was already far gone and the appearance of the
pursuers might be hourly expected. La Cueille and Schlickeisen
undertook to put the six guns in position, to pack away the ammunition
and to look after the armament of the garrison. To Wienersdorf the
defence was entrusted, the construction of all necessary work in the
fort and the surrounding territory being left to him; while Johannes
was charged with the commissariat and general command.
On overhauling the fort, our artillerists found a few useless small
guns and a fair quantity of gunpowder which, added to their own supply,
removed all fear of insecurity. After all the ammunition had been
stored away, the Europeans, assisted by some Dayaks, placed two small
guns upon the ramparts on the land side and removed a few palisades in
order to afford a wider range. Another piece was placed on each of the
ramparts commanding the stream.
Wienersdorf in the meantime carefully reviewed the interior of the
fortification. The footways running along the palisades he strengthened
here and there with strong planks. He made loop-holes in the centre of
the four walls, but especially near the ramparts, so as to secure the
free use of their rifles; and finally he collected from amongst the
lumber in the fort some boards and beams, with which he constructed
upon one of the highest buildings a kind of covered sentry-box whence
the whole neighborhood might be surveyed without danger.
Johannes soon completed his task. He warehoused all his provisions and
at the same time enquired into the resources of kotta Djangkan. The
result of his inspection was eminently satisfactory. There was not only
an abundant supply of rice, but a large quantity of dried meat, besides
two very large deer, fresh killed. He also found twenty pigs, a number
of fowls, geese and ducks. Thoroughly satisfied, the
commander-in-chief, at the head of a strong escort of Dayaks, sallied
out of the fort to clear the surrounding territory from tall grass and
all shrubs behind which an enemy might creep up to the works unnoticed.
That accomplished, he removed the ladder which afforded access from the
river up the steep bank.
On re-entering the fortification he encountered Amai Kotong, who had
returned with some of his men from the gardens and adjacent woods. They
had gone out to gather a large quantity of wild Spanish pepper,
cocoanuts, bamboo tops, etc., all of which would serve them as
delicacies during the impending siege. The Amai had also despatched one
of his sons up the soengei Mawat to summon his subjects to war.
Harimaoung’s companions occupied themselves in scraping the points of
their arrows and in dipping them in fresh arrow poison. Meanwhile their
chief joined his uncle and engaged in earnest conversation with him.
Having thus taken every possible precaution our deserters were seated
together to enjoy the delightful evening. The sky was clear and now
that the sun had gone down the heat was replaced by that fresh and
agreeable coolness which renders these evening hours the most
delightful in tropical lands. Thus bathed in the soft moonlight they
sat engaged in conversation about the incidents of the last few days,
and the probability of future encounters.
“How I wish they could be avoided,” Wienersdorf said. “Blood, always
blood! Ours is a horrible journey.”
“Don’t worry,” Johannes answered angrily. “You should have stayed at
home if you are so tenderly disposed. Besides, we only defend
ourselves. Not a shot has been fired or a blow given except when
enforced. Defence, not defiance has been our rule and so it must
continue to be as long as may be possible.”
While they were thus conversing they suddenly heard a soft sob, as if
uttered by a woman. They looked at each other, not knowing how to
account for the sound. They had seen all the women in the kampong.
Those not constrained by the jealousy of their lords and masters had
moved about freely among the strangers and many had made merry at the
awkwardness of the pretended Dayaks. Johannes alone, by virtue of his
turban, had commanded their respect. There were old and young, handsome
and ugly ones amongst them; but they all displayed a peculiar tendency
to mirth, if not frivolity, quite irreconcilable with the sobbing now
heard.
La Cueille, the most polite of the four, got up, resolved to discover
the meaning of that strange sound. He returned in a few moments and
informed his comrades that yonder, near the high building where Amai
Kotong resided, he had found a large cage in which a woman was
imprisoned. He had addressed her and received a reply, but what she
said he could not understand.
Johannes burst out laughing and said,
“Perhaps some silly husband has kindly locked up his better-half to
teach her manners. The custom of the country, my man!”
“Rather harsh measures to cage a member of the gentle sex like a wild
animal,” Schlickeisen remarked.
“Sometimes members of the fair sex do not deserve a better fate,”
replied the other, laughing. “But let us see, I dare say I shall be
able to understand her.”
But before he had concluded Dalim appeared on the scene. His
explanation of the sobbing sounds they had heard completely unnerved
our travellers. He reminded them of the lake Ampang, when Harimaoung
Boekit had besmeared his victor with his own, and himself with his
victor’s blood.
“That was only a preliminary ceremony,” the Dayak continued, “and a
very short one for the occasion. Both of you became from that time
converted from two deadly enemies into brothers. But Dayak custom
demands a more elaborate rite to cement that bond of brotherhood. This
rite, called the oath of atonement, will take place to-morrow and will
be combined with the bond of blood. Yesterday, directly after our
arrival, Harimaoung Boekit informed his uncle of your peculiar
relationship to him, and they together have chosen a hireling, who will
be sacrificed to-morrow.”
“Sacrificed!” the Europeans cried with astonishment.
“Yes, sacrificed,” was the calm reply. “Harimaoung attacked us, as you
will remember, and men were killed and wounded during that attack. This
constitutes a capital crime according to Dayak law, only to be expiated
by the immolation of a hireling, who will hereafter in the Dayak heaven
become the slave of Wienersdorf.”
“I will never allow this hireling to be sacrificed,” the Swiss cried,
full of emotion. “I will prevent it at any cost.”
“You can do nothing of the sort,” Dalim interrupted. “Whatever you
attempt will only damage our cause. It will seem as if you repent
having spared the life of the Poenan. The victim has already been
chosen, has already lost the name of human being and is now called
kabalik, the lifeless.”
“Horrible!” Wienersdorf despairingly cried. “By Heavens! can nothing
prevent such a crime? But,” he wildly continued, “the Poenan may think
what he likes. I am sorry now that I spared him. I will seek the wretch
and beg for the life of the woman. If he refuses my request may God
have mercy upon him, for only my death will save his life.”
“Calm yourself and reflect that all our lives are at stake,” Johannes
observed. “You nobly wish to save this woman, but I repeat by so doing
you will endanger our lives as well as your own. Now of your own life
you are master, but do you think that we intend to sacrifice ours in
defence of your own fancies? No, I say. Ask your own conscience whether
a woman like that, a woman who is already looked upon as dead, is
really worth such a wholesale slaughter as your interference will
certainly provoke. Besides if you deliver her to-day at the cost I have
just figured, she will be chosen again in another week and the
bloodshed caused by your intercession will have been practically
useless.”
“Horrible, horrible!” the Swiss cried, wringing his hands in despair.
“Listen!” Johannes solemnly continued. “You voluntarily chose me as
your leader in our escape; you have all promised to obey me when we
should find ourselves among the natives of the interior. I now demand
prompt obedience as a guaranty for the safety of all of us. This
obedience will first of all consist in offering no resistance to what
cannot be prevented. I am not speaking from any intolerance or want of
compassion, but solely in the interests of self-preservation. If we
cannot prevent cruelties from being perpetrated under our own eyes let
us blame the civilized nation which rules the greater part of this
immense island, and yet does not possess the power to grapple with
horrors such as we shall witness to-morrow.”
He was glowing with earnestness. His head was thrown back and his chest
heaved violently. His handsome face clearly expressed the indignation
of his soul.
“To-morrow,” he continued, “I will attach the Dutch colors to the stake
when the sacrifice is being consummated. The crime will thus be
presided over by the banner of Holland; and I shall take care that the
blood of the poor woman writhing under her tortures shall bespatter its
pure breadths and cover it with pollution.”
After a few moments he calmed down and continued:
“But let us go to our posts; Wienersdorf and I will rest while the
others keep watch.” Then addressing Schlickeisen and La Cueille, he
said, “Call us at midnight, when we will relieve you. And now
good-night!”
“Good-night! Oh heavens, what a night!” Wienersdorf muttered,
impatiently following.
At about five in the morning, after the moon had gone down and
everything around was dark, Wienersdorf, seizing the opportunity while
Johannes was talking to one of the sentries, crept to the cage in which
the poor woman was confined and found her sleeping soundly. He quietly
awoke her and after a great deal of trouble broke some of the bars of
her prison. He then urged her by signs to leave it and escape to the
wilderness. Alas! the poor woman, frightened at seeing a perfect
stranger in the darkness of night, refused to move. The Swiss entreated
her to go; he wrung his hands and grasped the trellis-work of her cage.
But all in vain.
Thus Johannes found him lost in despair. While leading him away he
tried to convince him of the absurdity of the escape of the woman. The
expiation ceremony would not even be postponed by her flight, for
another victim would soon be chosen in her place, while a hot pursuit
would be made after the fugitive, eventually to end in capture and a
terrible death.
The night passed quietly. Not a sign of the enemy was seen. As soon as
day began to break Amai Kotong despatched a few of his Dayaks in a
djoekoeng down the stream to take their post at the nearest angle
formed by the river. They would serve as an advance guard, for from
that point they had an extensive view over the stream and could signal
to the kotta the approach of any canoes.