DESCENT OF THE BATANG LOEPAR—A BORNEAN WATERFALL—THE FRONTIER
PASSED—SIMANGANG—PARTING—ON BOARD THE FIREFLY—A SARAWAK FORT—AT
KOETSHIN—ON BOARD THE RAINBOW—AT SINGAPORE—DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE.
When the travellers awoke in the morning and the mist had been
dispersed by the first rays of the sun a magnificent view rose before
their eyes. The southern slope of the mountain which they had ascended
the previous day was covered with high woods. The summit which they had
surmounted was clothed with magnificent specimens of the intertropical
flora of the higher zone. When, however, they approached the edge of
the northern slope it appeared as if the luxuriant vegetation hitherto
seen had suddenly departed in order to exhibit nature in her wildest
and most fantastic form. Wild was the true word wherewith to describe
the country in which they had arrived. All around were piles of
gigantic rocks which threatened to interrupt all progress. Through
these obstacles, however, they found tunnels cut and passages hewn out
which barely offered standing room. Yawning around them were dangerous
precipices and fathomless abysses beneath which mountain torrents
roared like thunder, though the eye could not distinguish them through
the vast depths. At other places rocks rose almost perpendicularly into
the sky as if threatening death and destruction to the passer-by. And
yet amid this chaos formed by the terrible forces of nature our
travellers occasionally came upon verdant oases, gentle slopes crowned
with short, fine grass, from out of which arose plumed cedar trees,
forming a lovely picture that carried back the Swiss to the memories of
their Alpenweide with its firs and pine trees.
On entering one of these oases the travellers noticed a cascade falling
from an adjacent cliff. With insatiable delight the Swiss looked up at
the dark-blue diorite of the rock whose edges were sharply defined
against the soft azure of the skies. They watched the falling torrent—a
fluttering robe which the water-nymph sent floating in the expanse. The
soengei Oendoep, as this stream was called, arrested in its course by
huge masses of rock, threw its water from a height of about four
hundred feet. Beautifully shaded in greenish-blue, its principal branch
would have reached the bottom of the valley over the perpendicular wall
of the mountain like a crystalline stream, but half-way down its course
was arrested by a projecting mass of stone upon which it descended with
the noise of thunder; then beaten into foam it rushed downwards on its
way to the valley—a milk-white ribbon, silvery bright. The other
branches of the Oendoep wildly separated themselves from the edge of
the cliff; the torrents were speedily met by stony crags and rocky
pinnacles to which they seemed to cling for a moment; then they broke
into millions of bubbles which shone like fire under the rays of the
tropical sun and disappeared forever.
The four friends with Hamadoe approached as near to the fall as was
possible, and as if by instinct chose for their point of observation
the spot where they could observe the magnificent rainbows formed
everywhere around by the reflection of the sun’s rays. They drew yet
nearer and each became surrounded by a double rainbow, which while they
remained in its immediate neighborhood seemed to move with them
backwards and forwards and to follow every change in their position.
Their hair, skin and garments became covered with minute particles of
water, each of which, like a diamond, shone with the incomparable
brilliancy of prismatic coloring.
“Beautiful! Magnificent!” the young wife exclaimed, “are such scenes
also met with in your country?”
“This is undoubtedly very grand,” replied her husband; “but Switzerland
can also boast of her cascades. We have the Rhinefel at Laufen, the
Staubbach in the valley of Lauterbrunnen and the Giesbach near Lake
Brienz.”
“Where the whitefaces amuse themselves by painting the waterfall. Is it
not so?” remarked Johannes jokingly.
“What do you mean by painting?” Schlickeisen asked.
“Have I not read somewhere that nature in your country is found too
poor and requires Bengal fire to make your waterfalls attractive?”
“Well, they do certainly illuminate the Giesbach; and whenever you come
to Europe, if you find yourself in Switzerland, just go to that same
fall and pay your six francs to see it at night.”
“I should be very sorry indeed,” said Johannes, somewhat disdainfully.
“And pray, why?”
“Because nature is in my opinion too exalted to be desecrated by such
mockery. But to change the subject, let us, while impressed with the
grandeur of this cataract, shake hands and bid each other God-speed.”
“With all my heart,” responded La Cueille. “I like wishing good-luck,
because it is usually accompanied by a dram.”
Johannes took from one of the baskets two square bottles. He poured out
a stiff dose for each of them. Then raising on high his cocoanut
drinking-cup, said:
“Men and brothers, this morning we have crossed the Batang Loepar
mountains. That range marks the frontier between Dutch territory and
Sarawak. We are over that frontier now and stand in the domains of
Rajah Sir James Brooke. Brothers, I drink to Rajah Sir James Brooke,
who established upon the most inhospitable coast of Borneo the colony
which will now receive us after a long and weary pilgrimage. Hip! hip!
hurrah!”
“Hip! hip! hurrah!” the Europeans cheered.
“Lēēēh lèlèlèlèle ouiiiiit,” yelled the Poenans.
The travellers now cast their eyes over the country into which they
were descending. However wild the upper slopes of the Batang Loepar
must have been, here below them lay a carpet of the loveliest verdure,
in the midst of which a silver ribbon was seen winding its course from
south to north. Harimaoung Boekit explained to his friends that the
stream they saw was the soengei Oendoep. He also pointed out to them a
spot on the horizon standing out beautifully white against the green
background.
Wienersdorf took his glasses and looked.
“Those are white men’s buildings,” he exclaimed in a voice trembling
with emotion.
“Thank Heaven!” said Schlickeisen.
“Benie soit la très Sainte Vierge de Jupille,” added La Cueille,
devoutly uncovering his head.
“Yes!” Wienersdorf continued, still looking through the glass. “They
are dwellings efficiently lime-washed. There is also a fortification.
It appears to be a square-bastioned redoubt. I can distinguish a flag
on the flag-staff—a field of gold with a cross dividing the field into
four equal squares. The perpendicular bar of the cross is red and
black; the horizontal one is half red and half black.”
“That is probably the Sarawak flag,” said Johannes.
“That place is called Simangang,” Harimaoung explained.
The travellers now quickly descended to the plain and before evening
set in they arrived at the Sarawak fort. The garrison were turned out;
but as soon as the party approached within hailing distance,
Schlickeisen, who spoke English fluently, advanced alone, leaving the
others behind. He shouted out his request for an interview with the
authorities and was accordingly carried into the presence of the
Assistant President and Military Commandant. When that official learned
from him, that among the approaching travellers there were four
soldiers who had deserted from the Dutch army his lips curled into a
smile. It tickled Mr. Spencer’s fancy that those stupid Dutchmen had
been tricked. After inspecting the visitors he graciously gave his
permission for the Europeans to enter the fort, but Harimaoung Boekit
and his Poenans, he ordered, must remain outside.
“You are just in time,” added he. “To-morrow morning the Firefly sails
for Koetshing and you can continue your journey on board of her. You
are certain to find some vessel at Koetshing which will convey you to
Singapore.”
The Europeans cordially thanked the commander for his reception, but
announced their intention to remain outside the fortification.
It would be the last night they should pass with the brave Poenan
chief. The morrow would see them on board the Firefly, and the Poenan
and his band would immediately start for soengei Miri.
The night was passed in agreeable conversation teeming with
reminiscences of the past trials through which they had fought
hand-in-hand. Occasionally they became saddened by the thought of their
approaching separation, but were soon reconciled to what they all saw
was inevitable. At daybreak the Europeans carried the baskets
containing their treasures on board the Firefly; Harimaoung Boekit
accompanying them to the vessel. When the warning shriek of the
steam-whistle sounded, the Poenan embraced his sister and looked
lovingly into her eyes as if anxious to read her thoughts. Hot tears
streamed down her cheeks as he clasped her to his breast. He then took
Wienersdorf’s hand and carried it to his lips.
“Paharingkoe Dohong,” my brother Dohong, he sobbed. These were the only
words which his violent emotion permitted him to utter.
Another tinkling of bells, another whistle. He tore himself from the
last embrace of Hamadoe, pressed the hands of his four friends and
leaped ashore. The plank was withdrawn from the pier, the paddles began
to rotate, and between brother and sister there interposed a gap which
increased with every second, until their forms became lost to each
other in the morning mist. Then Hamadoe wiped away a tear and whispered
in Wienersdorf’s ear. “Now, you are everything to me.”
The Firefly was a swift steamer and moved rapidly over the wide stream.
By sunset she had reached the mouth of the river and the travellers
obtained a full view of the ocean. The head of the vessel was now
turned westward and before daybreak she entered the mouth of the
soengei Moratabas, a branch of the Sarawak River. A few hours later she
was at anchor before Koetshing, the capital of the Sarawak country. Our
travellers were courteously received by Rajah Sir James Brooke, who
listened to the history of their experiences with wrapt attention. He
expressed his admiration of their pluck, perseverance, and presence of
mind, but at the same time frankly condemned their
desertion—designating it as “the faithless violation of a contract
which they had made with their government.” Yet had he not the heart to
deliver up to the Dutch men who had accomplished such a journey, who
had experienced such trials and suffered so much, who had risked their
lives in order to regain their liberty.
Two days afterward the Rainbow, a fine, bark-rigged screw steamer,
sailed for Singapore and our travellers took passage on her. During
their stay at Koetshing the Europeans had been endeavoring to cleanse
their skin from the stain of the katiting by means of vigorous
scrubbing with soap and water. The pigment, however, after disguising
them so long a time, refused to be easily washed away, so that they
still presented the appearance of Indo-Europeans or half-breeds. Only
time, the healer of all ills, would be able effectually to bleach their
skins.
The travellers had endeavored to provide themselves at Koetshing with
decent apparel. Although magasins de mode are rare in Borneo they had
succeeded thoroughly and had been able to substitute for the ewahs,
hitherto worn, sailors’ Sunday suits, convenient if not elegant.
Hamadoe, assisted by Johannes and her husband, had purchased a few
handsome garments and dressed in these she looked very attractive. Even
Dalim and his companion of Kwala Kapoeas had transformed themselves and
now appeared in the elegant attire of the wealthier class of Malays.
All of them, therefore, when on board the Rainbow looked neat, clean,
and thoroughly presentable, so that no one could have imagined it
possible that for the past three months they had been wanderers in the
wilds of Borneo.
After leaving port, the weather being calm and the sky unclouded, the
vessel steamed close in under the rocks of Cape Datoe. Our adventurers
were thus enabled to secure a parting glimpse of the island which they
had traversed from south to north and in which they had experienced
such vicissitudes. They all looked with emotion at that cape—the young
wife especially, who with half-suppressed tears gazed for the last time
on the land of her birth and watched it gradually fade away, to
disappear from her view—forever.
“No matter; it is the Lord’s will.” She withdrew her gaze from the
horizon and sought comfort of her husband.
Three days afterward the Rainbow dropped anchor in the Roads of
Singapore and was soon unloaded. The first visit paid by the deserters
was to the Dutch Consulate. The verdict expressed by Rajah Brooke on
the subject of their desertion had made a profound impression upon the
Swiss. They sought to know the expense incurred by the Dutch Government
for every soldier enlisted in its army. When informed of the amount,
each of them deposited with the Consul gold dust to the value of one
thousand guilders to pay the expense of his own enlistment and to hire
a substitute for the unexpired term of his service. They also begged
the Consul to take charge of a handsome theodolite, field-glass and
sextant and two splendid rifles, to be forwarded to the commanding
officer at Kwala Kapoeas, whose name they duly supplied. They also
frankly confessed their error in having taken the Colonel’s instruments
and weapons at the time of their desertion, and hoped that the
situation would be accepted and their fault forgiven.
The Consul, affected by their words and actions, became greatly
interested in them and gladly placed himself at their disposal to
assist them through their present difficulties. Through his aid they
disposed of their gold dust and bezoar stones in the most profitable
markets. After converting all their valuables into specie they
proceeded to a division of property. Dalim and his companion were first
liberally rewarded and expressed themselves well contented. The amount
then accruing to each of the four companions was twenty-five thousand
guilders. With the aid of the Consul the two Swiss and the Walloon had
their shares converted into drafts on Europe payable to their
respective orders. Johannes, who intended to settle in Singapore,
preferred to dispose of his share himself.
The Consul in his generous endeavors went still further. Having found
four substitutes to replace the deserters in the Dutch army he wrote to
Batavia and obtained their papers with a formal discharge from military
service. This took some time to accomplish, but during the three months
occupied in its execution Wienersdorf was occupied in preparing his
wife for the amenities of western life. His first step was in the
direction of her costume. With the aid of one of the principal drapery
stores he soon transformed her into a real European lady. He did his
work tastefully and well, and Hamadoe looked most lovely in her new
toilet. For the rest, being naturally gifted and possessing the rare
capacity of adapting herself to any condition, her transformation cost
her but little trouble.
At length the papers arrived from Batavia and there was nothing to
prevent the Europeans from returning to their fatherland. Before
leaving they paid a final visit to the Dutch Consul who had so
generously aided them. They thanked him again and again, and as a
parting gift offered him the manuscript book received from Harimaoung
Boekit at kotta Rangan Hanoengoh, which had presumably belonged to
George Muller, massacred in 1825. The Consul gratefully accepted the
journal and announced his intention of presenting it to the “Museum
voor land en volkenkunde,” an institution devoted to the study of
countries and their population. The following morning the four friends
were standing together for the last time on one of the quays of New
Harbor, Singapore—the starting point of the ocean mail steamers. The
mail boat Hydaspe of the French messageries imperiales was under steam
and ready to sail.
The parting between Johannes and his companions was most affecting.
Silently and tearfully they pressed each other’s hands. When the boat
had steamed into the straits which separate Singapore from Poeloe
Pandjang, the three friends were still looking back to the shore and
fancied that they saw a handkerchief waving in the distance. Long stood
Johannes on the quay gazing at the departing ship, and when she
disappeared from view, with a loud sob he cried out after them, “May
God be their guide! they were brave men.”
VOCABULARY OF DAYAK WORDS.
Akar pahit.—“Bitter root,” is the root of a creeper largely found in
the marshy lower country of Borneo, and until now the best substitute
for quinine.
Alier.—The hole through which the slag is drawn off in the process of
smelting ore.
Amai.—Means father, and is the title of the chiefs of the upper
country.
Antoeën.—The power of changing into an evil spirit in order to steal a
man’s soul. See page 254.
Baba and Kee.—Are used to designate the Chinese in the Dutch Indies.
The former is the more complimentary. Kee is humiliating and almost a
nickname.
Badjangkan.—In Dayak, means to occupy a large space. Hence the
Djangkanese were proud of their name, as indicating the powerful tribe
from which they descend.
Badjoe.—Married women and girls always walk about half naked indoors.
When company is expected, decorum requires the lady of the house to put
on a badjoe, generally made of blue or red silk, and frequently
stitched with gold thread.
Bakatak.—A green frog; used as food.
Baloedoek.—An amphibious animal about a foot long, white and covered
with fine scales. Its body resembles a fish and it has the head of a
frog.
Bangamat.—Flying dog.
Bapoejoe.—A fish like the perch in shape and size. See page 53 for
their habits.
Basara.—A legal action pending.
Batoe galiga, or bezoar stone.—Is found in the intestines of certain
kinds of monkeys.
Batoe kasisentoe.—Coal.
Batoe sanaman.—Iron ore.
Benting.—Fort.
Bigal.—A national dance of the Dayaks.
Blako ontong.—Means to beg for good luck.
Boea bakoeng.—See weights.
Boea kajoe.—See weights.
Boehies.—Black and gray apes, noted for their long tails.
Boekit riwoet, or Wind Mountain.—A common name for hills or summits of
mountains, especially when standing isolated and consequently exposed
to every wind.
Boelau oerei.—Gold dust.
Boengkang.—The fat of a black cat.
Boentoeng.—See weights.
Boetoeng.—The nozzle of the bellows used in smelting.
Brini.—See weights.
Brotoali.—A species of cactus from which a decoction is made which is
used as a protection against mosquitoes.
Djata.—The brother of Mahatara, the Dayak god, was the father of all
crocodiles.
Djoekoeng.—Is a canoe formed by the excavated trunk of a tree. It can
contain two or three persons only.
Dohong.—Means “war sword.” It usually denotes male bravery and in
Oriental language it stands for valorous.
Ewah.—A coarse cloth or piece of bark wound several times around the
middle, an end hanging down before and behind. It serves a most useful
purpose in protecting the abdomen against sudden chills.
Gantang.—Is a measure calculated to hold about four and one-half pounds
avoirdupois.
Hagalangang.—The decision of a case by an appeal to arms. See page 232.
Halamantek.—Forest leeches.
Hambator.—Is the larva of a large beetle found in worm-eaten wood. It
is very fat and of the dimensions of a finger.
Ipoh.—A vegetable poison made from the sap of a creeper, in which the
Dayaks dip the points of their arrows.
Kadjanka.—The ruler of the moon and protector of newly married women.
Kahio.—Bornean name of the orang outang.
Kalamboe-ie.—A large snail; used as a food.
Kalampoet.—A tree of the rhododendron tribe.
Karangan.—A sand bar of considerable size in a river.
Karoenkoeng.—Suit of rattan armor.
Katiting.—A tree belonging to the Rhizophora.
Kee.—See Baba.
Ketan.—Is a species of rice containing much gluten, which becomes thick
in boiling. Eaten with treacle and powdered cocoanuts, it forms one of
the delicacies of the Dayaks.
Kiham.—Indicates a spot in the river, narrowed by beds of rock,
compelling the waters to rush through a much straitened canal.
Generally this is accompanied by a tolerable decrease in the bed of the
river.
Koedjang.—Is a tuber, largely found in marshy regions, and especially
in the lower country, where, after the rice, it forms the principal
food of the natives. In the upper country it is also found in pools and
marshes.
Kwala.—Mouth of a river.
Laboerang.—An earthen trough in which iron ore is smelted.
Mahatara and Hatallah both signify God. The first is seldom used by the
Dayaks when speaking to a European. The latter is never used among the
Dayaks themselves.
Mandauws.—The Dayak sword, the blade concave on one side and convex on
the other. Is about twenty-one inches long, nearly straight, and one
and a half inches broad in the middle and tapering to a sharp point. It
has only one cutting edge.
Manjapa.—The administration of oaths.
Maroetas.—A species of quarantine declared against a house, village or
even whole district in consequence of infectious disease.
Matta boeroeng.—See weights.
Nagara.—Is a district with a capital of the same name situated in the
Malayan districts of Borneo, where the best arms of the whole island
are manufactured.
Obat.—Medicine.
Palakko.—A settlement deposited by the bridegroom with the bride’s
parents, varying in amount according to the wealth of the individual.
Pampahilep.—A forest imp. See page 42.
Pangereran.—A crocodile killer, usually a Malay.
Pantoek.—The needle used in tattooing.
Parabah.—A Dayak stratagem. A tree is cut off but held upright by
rattan cables. These are severed at the proper moment and the tree
falls upon the enemy.
Radjah balawang boelau, or King of the Golden Gate; sometimes also
called Radja Ontong, or king of misfortune. The residence of this
benevolent being is above the residence of the Sangiangs, near that of
Mahatara, the supreme divinity.
Radja Ontong.—See Radjah balawang boelau.
Rajoh.—A fine moss found on the high lands of Borneo.
Ramon petak kinan.—Eatable soil.
Rangkan.—Is a large canoe formed by excavating the trunk of a tree. It
will carry thirty persons, in some cases even more.
Real.—An imaginary coin among the Dayaks. Its value is about 60 cents.
Ringgit.—See weights.
Rioeng.—Noise.
Riwoet-haroesan.—Breath of the stream; a musical sound formed by the
waters of a stream meeting the incoming tide from the sea.
Sadjampol.—See weights.
Sakobang.—See weights.
Salambouw.—A square net with medium sized meshes, spread across a
stream to prevent the escape of fish.
Sambalajong.—A white head-dress worn by widows.
Sanaman.—Iron.
Sangiangs.—Heavenly beings, servants of Mahatara (God). Many sacrifices
are offered to them.
Sanggarang.—A richly carved flag-staff.
Sapoendoes.—Posts to which prisoners are tied to be tortured to death.
Sarok boelau.—The soul of the gold dust, the Dayaks believing that
inanimate bodies have souls.
Sarong.—Petticoat.
Satali.—See weights.
Satilai.—See weights.
Singapore.—Although not a single lion is found in the whole of the
Moluccan peninsula, Singapore means lion city.
Sipet.—is a blow-pipe for poisonous arrows. An iron lance is attached
to it so that it may be used for offensive operations.
Siren.—A poison made from the sap of a tree in which the Dayaks dip the
points of their arrows.
Soengei.—Stream.
Soho.—A flood.
Takakak.—Is a woodcock of great beauty, crowing its loud
taaaak-kekakakak at regular intervals, about 9 P.M., 12 M., and 3 A.M.
Talawang.—Shield.
Tangoeli.—The larvæ of bees stewed in honey.
Tarodjok.—A pair of scales.
Tatoem.—The shriek with which the Dayak lament their dead.
Tempon Telon.—One of the Sangiangs, the Charon of the Dayaks, who
carries the souls of the dead through a purifying fire into the Elysian
fields.
Thaël.—See weights.
Titih.—The funeral knell of the Dayaks. See page 18.
Tobah.—A shrub belonging to the Rhisophores; is universally found in
the lower country, while in the upper country it only grows in marshy
soil.
Toeak.—A liquor prepared from fermented rice, pepper, betelnuts and
sugar.
Toending.—The gilding of the nails and painting the forehead. The dead
are thus decorated before burial.
Tomoi.—Somewhat resembles a summer-house, erected near the fortified
dwellings in the upper country, to receive travellers. No stranger is
ever admitted within the fortification; mistrust is principally the
origin of this custom, the natives thus protecting themselves against
spies, who, under the mask of friendship, may come to reconnoitre the
territory; but this practice also serves to prevent dissensions which
may arise from the violation of customs and habits of the inhabitants
with which strangers are presumably unacquainted.
Weights.—The standard weight of gold in the interior of Borneo is the
ringgit. Two ringgits are about equal to one thaël. The ringgit
contains two sadjampol; the sadjampol two and a half sakobang; the
sakobang two boea kajoe; the boea kajoe two boentoeng; the boentoeng
two satilai; the satilai two satali; the satali one and a half brini;
the brini two matta boeroeng, and the matta boeroeng two boea bakoeng.
A boea bakoeng therefore is the 1–960th part of a thaël.