The expedition which had taken the Rajah into the interior was only one
among many he had to undertake in order that trade and commerce might
be established in safety in remote parts of his kingdom. In Sarawak,
epidemics of head-hunting are apt to occur unexpectedly amongst Dyak
tribes, just as of late years the plague has unaccountably broken out
afresh in different parts of the world.
[Illustration: SEA DYAKS IN WAR DRESS]
One of the largest rivers in the country, the Rejang, whose waters
are deep enough for 170 miles to float vessels and schooners of
moderate size, has ramifications in the smaller tributaries which run
in various directions into mountainous districts. On these hills,
sometimes two or three thousand feet in height, Dyaks, who dearly
love their independence and to feel the importance of being able to
undertake skirmishes on their own account, build houses (to which
they can retire temporarily for protection) on the precipitous sides
of mountains and hills, like eagles’ nests clinging to lofty peaks,
and to which apparently only birds can soar. These people, however,
climb like monkeys; their activity is wonderful, and when one of these
tribes ensconces itself in such inaccessible places it is difficult
to dislodge and coerce it into moving to lower and more civilized
portions of the territory. At the time of which I am writing, one
of these tribes had been particularly tiresome. A Dyak chief, named
Lintong,[6] had gathered round him a considerable force of followers,
entrenched himself at the head of a stream, where he had managed to
build a fleet of boats from the enormous forest trees which grew in the
neighbourhood. At the head of his fleet, he harassed and plundered the
more law-abiding inhabitants of the delta.
Mr. Harry Skelton, one of the Rajah’s officers stationed at a place
called Sibu, a fortified settlement sixty miles up from the mouth of
the Rejang River, had incurred Lintong’s displeasure owing to severe
sentences he had inflicted on one or two members of the tribe, who had
been caught red-handed. This made Lintong exceedingly angry, and one
night, about a fortnight after my first arrival in the country, Lintong
descended with his fleet of boats, manned by some three thousand men,
and attacked Mr. Skelton’s Fort just before daybreak. It was nearly
taken by surprise, for Dyaks have a way of muffling the sound of their
paddles, and although the Fort was built about twenty yards from the
river, and the fleet came within earshot of it, no sound was heard by
the sentries, notwithstanding that they were on the look out for any
emergency. “Face of Day” and his men landed, dashed up to the Fort
with horrible yells and threw showers of poisoned arrows and pointed
bamboo spears at the building. Sarawak Forts are all built on the
same pattern--square stockades with watchtowers at each corner, made
of planks of iron-wood, which no native missile can penetrate, being
bullet proof. The stockade is about twenty feet high, and between that
and the roof, to give air and light, is a trellis-work made of the same
iron-wood which divides an overhanging roof, made of wooden shingles,
from the wooden walls. The shingles are made detachable to prevent fire
when the enemy throw lighted brands on the roof.
Sibu Fort was then garrisoned by thirteen Sikhs, under the command
of Mr. Skelton. These Sikhs were ci-devant Indian Sepoys, who had
been exiled to Sarawak as punishment for the share they had taken
in the Indian Mutiny. These men, although rebels, were amongst the
lesser offenders in the Mutiny, and subsequently proved themselves
to be valuable servants to the Sarawak Government. They were fierce,
magnificent-looking beings, very tall, and smartly conspicuous, with
great turbans twisted round their heads, black beards carefully tended,
and moustaches with aggressively curled ends. There were also staying
in the Fort two or three Dyak chiefs and a recently joined English
cadet, Mr. Low, son of Sir Hugh Low, who was then Colonial Secretary
in Labuan. A few poisoned arrows and barbed bamboo spears found their
way through the trellis-work of the Fort, but no one was struck by
these missiles. The party in the Fort made a brave resistance, and in a
short time the rebels were repulsed and sent flying to their boats on
the beach, leaving about a dozen dead and wounded companions under the
wooden walls, Lintong’s son being amongst the slain.
The account which Mr. Skelton gave me when I saw him afterwards of
the manner in which the friendly Dyak chiefs behaved during the
skirmish amused me very much, for they did nothing but peer through
the lattice-work, and shout Dyak insults at the attacking party, most
of whom they knew very well. They made unpleasant remarks about the
enemy’s mothers, and inquired whether the men themselves belonged
to the female sex, as their efforts were so feeble, etc. It appears
the noise was terrific, the attacking party yelling, shouting, and
screaming whilst the battle lasted.
It was this serious state of things at Sibu that had called the Rajah
away from Kuching a few days after my arrival in Sarawak. He gathered
round him some seven thousand Dyaks belonging to friendly tribes,
and with Mr. Skelton and one or two other English officers led an
expedition up the Rejang River into the interior of the country, and
reduced the enemy to subjection. He deemed it advisable to remain at
Sibu for some weeks in order to restore peace and order in this part
of his country. Meanwhile Lintong and his people were hiding in the
head-waters of remote streams in the neighbourhood; and he and all his
tribe became outcasts in the land. The Rajah’s object was to persuade
these people to confess the error of their ways, own themselves
vanquished, make peace, and build a new village on the main river under
the surveillance of the Rajah’s neighbouring Forts. The Rajah’s policy
on many similar occasions was always the same: when he had succeeded in
crushing the head-hunting ambitions of these tribes, the thing then to
be done was to turn these people into decent subjects by making them
understand that the benefits to be derived from trade and commerce were
more satisfactory to their well-being than their methods of murdering
and cutting off the heads of their often harmless neighbours.
About a month or six weeks had elapsed since the Rajah’s departure from
Kuching, when one morning a dispatch boat from the scene of action
arrived at our landing-place with a letter from the Rajah, telling me
that he would be back in two or three days. He wanted me to return with
him to Sibu and stay for a month or so at the Fort. He mentioned that
he was bringing one of the chiefs from the interior with him, because
he thought it would interest me to see him and make his acquaintance.
I well remember the day of the Rajah’s return. I was interested in
hearing all the details of the expedition, whilst I had much to tell
him about my new women friends. I think he was amused, in the course
of my story, at Malay expressions I let fall with great pride and a
good deal of ostentation. At the end of my narrative--and I must say I
talked a good deal--I was rewarded by his saying, “Why, you have become
a real Malay!”
That evening, after dinner, he sent for Apai Minggat, the chief who had
accompanied him to Kuching. We were sitting in the dining-room when
this individual entered, a middle-aged Sea Dyak chieftain, who had
often fought the Rajah’s battles by his side and saved his life on more
than one occasion, for he was a famous warrior, with a considerable
following of fighting men. He seemed to be treading on eggshells, his
toes were turned out, and his body bent. A dingy handkerchief was
twisted round his head, which was clean-shaven, with the exception of
a lock of hair hanging at the back of his neck; this he had retained,
like all Sea Dyaks, in a spirit of true courtesy, in case his head were
taken by an enemy, when this lock would serve as a handle for them to
carry his head by. He had on a waistcloth, and a dirty plaid covered
his shoulders. He put out his hand from the folds of this garment to
shake hands with the Rajah and with me.
I was anxious to hear a war yell, and I asked the Rajah to get him to
give vent to one of these sounds of gratification heard when any heads
are taken by Dyaks without loss to themselves. A curious falsetto
sound issued from his lips. It went higher and higher, louder and
louder, something between the crowing of a cock and the whistle of a
steam-engine, and then it died down into a whisper. Two or three times
he repeated this performance, which greatly interested me. It was not
so terrible as I had imagined it must be, but the Rajah explained that
when heard in a chorus of thousands of men, all yelling at once, as he
had heard these sounds of victory after successful skirmishes against
the pirates, it was a most terrifying experience, and froze the blood
in one’s veins.
Mr. Harry Skelton had also returned with the Rajah, and was our guest
at dinner: this over, I got up as custom demands, and left the Rajah
and his friend at their claret and cigars; but, not wishing to sit
by myself, I made signs to the chief and took him with me into the
drawing-room. There I sat in one of the arm-chairs, with the old Dyak
at my feet. He removed his head-handkerchief, rubbed his head, and
gave vent to strange sounds and groans. I sent for Talip, fearing he
was ill. Talip, however, informed me, “He say he bad head--he wants
gin.” I was rather shocked at this idea of Talip’s, and thought he was
maligning the old man. When Talip had left the room, happening to have
a scent bottle in my hand filled with eau-de-Cologne, I poured some
on my fingers and rubbed it on poor Minggat’s head. This he seemed to
enjoy, and made signs to me as though he found it soothing. The moment
I left off, he signed to me to go on again, so on I went rubbing his
head with eau-de-Cologne, and I remember that it smelt of cocoa-nut
oil. Busily engaged as I was, I did not notice that the Rajah and Mr.
Skelton had suddenly appeared in the room. I am sorry to say that the
Rajah was not at all pleased at my token of sympathy with the old
chief, and forthwith ordered him out of the room. “Poor old man,” I
said to the Rajah, “he has a bad head. Why should I not rub it with
eau-de-Cologne?” The Rajah, with right on his side, replied, “If you
encourage them in this way, how can you expect me to keep them in
order?” Mr. Skelton was much amused, but he told me privately that such
tokens of sympathy from a Rajah’s wife, was not a very tactful way of
behaving in an Oriental country.
FOOTNOTES:
[6] His _nom de guerre_, by which he was usually known, was
Mua-ari, or the Face of Day.