CHAPTER THREE.

We had an anxious time of it as we made our way back to Singapore,

between islands innumerable and coral reefs below water, on which it was

often with difficulty we avoided running. The first mate was seldom off

the deck, and Crowfoot, the boatswain, showed that he did not boast

without justice of his seamanship.

It is on such occasions that a sailor has an opportunity of proving what

he is made of. The wind continued fair and the weather fine, or our

difficulties would have been greatly increased. The less I say of the

second mate the better. Uncle Jack did not trust him, and while it was

his watch on deck constantly sent me up, or made an excuse for running

up himself to see how matters were going on. He insisted also on taking

his share in attending on our poor captain, who remained in his berth

unable to move, and, as we feared, in a very precarious state. Blyth

and I assisted in nursing him, but the second mate, through whose

carelessness the brig had been dismasted and the captain injured,

refused to take the slightest trouble to help us--indeed, he kept out of

the cabin altogether. The young man we had rescued from the Malay prahu

gradually regained his recollection of English, but from the first he

showed an unwillingness to talk about himself, and I observed that he

kept aloof as much as possible from the crew. When I asked his name he

said it was Ned Light, that he had been wrecked somewhere to the

eastward, and, narrowly escaping with his life, had been taken prisoner

by the pirates, who had kept him ever since in bondage. He appeared to

be more ready to talk to little Jem than to any one else, and the two

were constantly together. When I tried to find out from the boy what

account Ned gave of himself, Jem was remarkably reticent. At length,

however, one day he said, "He seems to be afraid of some of the men,

sir. He thinks that they intend to do him harm, but I cannot find out

why he has got that idea into his head. I told him that he might trust

you and the first mate, but he only answers, `Better not talk.'"

All had gone well in consequence of the constant watchfulness and

untiring efforts of the first mate, when, as we were within about four

days' sail of our destination, while rigging out a boom on which to set

a square sail, one of our best hands, Dick Mason, fell overboard. The

brig was running about four knots through the water, and as Mason could

swim well, no one felt much apprehension about his safety. The sails

were instantly clewed up, and the only boat which had escaped injury was

at once lowered. Ned and I, with Crowfoot, the boatswain, and two other

hands jumped into her and pulled away towards our shipmate, who was

striking out boldly to meet us. Before the boat was lowered, however,

the brig had run some distance, and we had a considerable way to go.

Just as I was going down the side I saw a black fin rising above the

surface, passing close under the stern. The boatswain I knew had seen

it too, for he urged us to use our utmost exertions to reach Mason, and

sang out to him to keep splashing about with all his might. We did our

best, making the oars bend again. We were within half a cable's length

of the poor fellow, when a fearful shriek reached our ears. I

instinctively turned round just in time to see his head disappear

beneath the bright surface. There was a ripple where he went down, and

as we got up to the spot and looked into the depths of the ocean we

could see a struggling human form surrounded by a ruddy tinge, and the

glittering white of the shark's lower jaws. Ned, who was in the bows,

plunged down his boat-hook, but Mason's hands were already far below the

point he could reach. The next instant the shark had disappeared with

its prey.

All hope of recovering even the body of our poor shipmate was gone, and

we returned with sad hearts on board.

"He is a great loss to us," remarked the boatswain. "He was one of the

men I could always trust, and that's more than I can say of some of the

rest."

"But Tim Howlett and Trinder are smart hands, surely?" I observed.

"They may be, but I don't like their goings on. If others trust them,

it's more than I do."

"I am sorry to hear you say that of the men," I remarked. "I fancied

that they were about the best men we have on board."

"You haven't seen as much of them as I have, or you wouldn't say that of

them," replied the boatswain.

"I'll give a hint to the first mate of what you think," I said.

"No use in doing that. He generally has his weather eye open, but he's

too generous to believe evil of a man unless he has strong proof. You

must leave him to find the matter out for himself."

At last we sighted the island of Singapore. Instead, however, of

bringing up before the town we made a signal for three boats, which

towed us into the new harbour. There we came to an anchor close to the

shore, and were able to refit much more rapidly than we could have done

in any other place. Our crew generally laboured away from sunrise to

sunset without complaining. But Howlett and Trinder grumbled at the

additional work they had to perform. The second mate seemed always out

of humour, and went about his duty in a listless fashion, frequently

abusing the men without any cause for so doing. The captain, who was

getting better, would not allow himself to be taken on shore to the

hospital, asserting that he was much more comfortable on board with Mr

Radburn, Blyth, and me to look after him, than he should be there. We,

however, persuaded him to let us send for a doctor, who came, and,

greatly to our relief, assured us that he was going on favourably,

although it might be a long time before he would be able to attend to

his duty on deck. The first mate had asked Ned if he would enter in

place of Mason, but he did not--as I thought he would have been glad to

do--accept the offer.

I spoke to him, advising him to remain, assuring him that he would be

well treated.

"The first mate and boatswain are kind to me, but I think, sir, I had

better ship on board another vessel homeward-bound," he replied.

I asked him, however, to remain a day or two, which he agreed to do.

Next morning, when the hands were mustered for work, Howlett and Trinder

were not to be found. I was sent on shore to look for them, it being

supposed that they were not far off, but after a long search I had to

return on board and say that I could not find them. There was a creek a

little way off lined with mangrove bushes. The captain therefore

directed Mr Blyth and me to take one of the boats and pull up it with

four hands, all of us well-armed, thinking that the deserters might have

concealed themselves somewhere on its banks, hoping to get an

opportunity of making their way over to Singapore.

We had got a short distance up the creek when I saw a vast number of

dark objects hanging to the bows of the mangrove trees.

"Are those things fruit, or are they the nests of birds?" I asked,

pointing them out to Mr Blyth.

"Neither one nor the other," he answered: "those are bats, or, as they

here are called, flying foxes. As we return they will be on the move,

and you will then see what they are like."

"I will take the present opportunity," I answered, and steering the boat

closer in to the shore I observed that there were thousands and tens of

thousands of the creatures hanging by their claws to the boughs in a

most curious manner as thick as a swarm of bees. With a boat-hook we

pulled off two or three, which falling inboard were picked up. They

showed, however, no fear, nor did they make any attempt to escape, but

licked our hands and appeared perfectly at ease. The head was like that

of a miniature fox, and the skin was beautifully soft. Blyth told me

that they live upon fruit, large quantities of which they consume. On

reaching the head of the creek we found a hut, in or about which it was

supposed that the runaways might have concealed themselves, but we could

discover no traces of them, and consequently judged that it would be

useless to search further in that direction.

The dusk of evening had come over as we pulled down the creek, and the

bats had begun to stir. Presently the whole air was filled with them as

they took their flight towards the plantations where they were about to

forage. They looked, with their wings stretched out, of wonderfully

large size, so as literally to darken the sky.

The next day passed and still we could hear nothing of the two men. The

captain on this sent Blyth and me over to Singapore, where we found that

they had entered on board a homeward-bound ship and had sailed. With

the assistance of the agent we succeeded in replacing them by two other

Englishmen, and we also engaged four Lascars, fine active-looking

fellows, who were likely to prove of much use, as they could endure the

heat of the sun better than could our own men.

The captain inquired whether the man we had picked up had entered.

"He has been working very steadily," answered the first mate, "but Harry

shall ask him if he intends to remain."

When the men knocked off work I went forward to speak to him.

"Well, Ned, what have you determined on?" I asked; "the captain wishes

to know whether you will enter."

"I will very gladly do so, Mr Harry," he answered. "I like you and the

first officer, and as I have no friends at home who care for me, I am in

no hurry to get back to old England."

"Why were you unwilling to enter before?" I inquired.

"Well, sir, I don't mind telling you now. It was on account of those

two fellows, Howlett and Trinder. I have served with them before, and

us I know a thing or two about them, and that they are mutinous,

ill-disposed rascals, I was afraid that they would find me out, and some

dark night heave me overboard, or knock me on the head."

"On board what ship did you serve with them?" I asked.

"On board the `Amphion,'" he answered. "They and several others of the

crew, tarred with the same brush, stole a boat and deserted from her,

leaving us so short-handed that, one of the officers and two other hands

being washed overboard, when the ship caught in a typhoon we were unable

to manage her, and she drove on a reef and was lost, we who remained

scarcely escaping with our lives."

"The `Amphion!'" I exclaimed, much astonished. "Why, that was my

father's ship! Did you say the captain escaped?"

"Yes; all of us, except one poor fellow, got safely on shore, but it was

a wild place, and we found ourselves among savages, who threatened to

take our lives, but they did not, though they ill-treated us, and made

us work for them."

"Do you think the captain is still alive? Can you pilot us to the

place?" I inquired eagerly.

"All I can say is that the captain was well in health, though sadly cast

down, when I last saw him," answered Ned. "As to finding the spot where

we were wrecked, that is what I fear I cannot do, for I don't know even

the name of the country; and as I am ignorant of navigation, and was

soon afterwards carried away by the Malay pirates, who took me about

with them from place to place, I have lost all reckoning, though I

calculate that it was somewhere away to the eastward. I think, however,

that I should know the country if I saw it again, though these islands

are so much like one another that I could not be certain; but do you

say, sir, that you are Captain Musgrave's son? I have only heard you

called Mr Harry, and I did not know it before, or I should have spoken

to you."

"Yes, Captain Musgrave, who commanded the `Amphion,' was my father, and

we have long given him up for lost," I replied. "Do you think that he

remained at the place where the ship was wrecked, or was he carried off

by the pirates?"

"He was not carried off by those who took us, for he and the first mate

and two seamen had gone up the country, and so escaped. Three others

were taken with me, but what became of them I do not know, may be they

were drowned or krissed by the Malays, as I never saw them again;

indeed, it is a wonder that I am alive, seeing what I have gone through.

The fellows who first got hold of me did not keep me long, but sold me

to another gang. They and I were afterwards wrecked, and when we were

trying to make our escape on board some canoes we had built, we were

overtaken by another fleet of pirates, who killed most of my companions.

They spared my life, but sold me after some time to the people to whom

the prahu belonged, from the wreck of which you picked me up."

"You must come aft and narrate what you have told me to the first mate,"

I said.

I ran down to tell the captain and first mate, who directed me to bring

Ned below, that they might hear his story. Having cross-questioned him

far more than I had done, they were perfectly satisfied that he had

spoken the truth, though they found it impossible to make out where the

`Amphion' had been wrecked. They put a chart before him, but he was

utterly unable to guess where the wreck had occurred, or even to point

out Singapore, where we then were. Thus we were left in doubt whether

the `Amphion' had been lost on the coast of Borneo or on that of Celebes

or Gillolo, or even as far east as New Guinea.

Ned's account made my uncle and me more eager than ever to continue the

voyage. The captain fully entered into our feelings, but at the same

time he felt that it was his duty to attend to the interests of the

owners, and to visit only the places where trade could be carried on.

The Dutch, who hold possession of Java and many of the Spice Islands to

the eastward, throw so many difficulties in the way of commerce for the

sake of keeping it in their own hands, that the captain had been

directed not to visit any of their ports if he could avoid doing so.

Our object therefore was to trade chiefly with the natives, from whom we

were more likely to learn something about the wreck of the "Amphion"

than from the Dutch, for it was considered that if they had had any

communication with the survivors of her crew, means would have been

found to send home an account of the occurrence. Now, as I have said,

nothing had been heard of the "Amphion" when we left England, nearly

four years after the time it was supposed she had been lost, beyond the

statement made by the two men who said they had escaped from her. Ned's

account showed that the owners were right in their conjectures as to the

possibility of her having been cast on some desert shore, instead of

having gone down, as was more generally believed, in a typhoon. By

working night and day, we at length got the "Lily" _ataunto_, and we

were thankful when being towed cut of harbour we found ourselves with a

fair wind standing to the eastward. We had the same dangers of coral

reefs, sand banks, and low islands to encounter as before, but we were

in a better condition now to avoid them.

Having passed the island of Labuan--since taken possession of by the

English--on the north-west of Borneo, we stood along the coast until we

rounded the northern end of that large island. To give some idea of the

size of Borneo, I may say that the whole of England, Ireland, and

Scotland, with the Orkney and Shetland Islands, would fit inside it,

leaving a very wide margin all round in addition. We were talking about

the inhabitants, when Uncle Jack observed--

"With the exception of Sarawak in the west, the whole of this

magnificent country is in a state of barbarism. The few Malay

settlements along the coast are but very slightly removed from the same

condition. It is said that the chief delight of the Dyak tribes, who

inhabit the interior as well as the larger part of the coast and the

banks of the rivers, is to attack their neighbours for the sake of

obtaining heads, and that no lover can present himself before his

intended bride until he offers her one of those gory trophies as a proof

of his prowess. The greater the number of heads he can present, the

more willing the damsel becomes to receive his advances.

Notwithstanding such a peculiar custom, the Dyaks possess many excellent

qualities. They are said to be truthful and honest, generally

intelligent, kind tempered and mild, and tolerably industrious; superior

indeed in many respects to the Malays and Chinese, who cheat and plunder

them.

"While we are opening up Africa, it seems to me that we should make an

effort to civilise and carry the blessings of Christianity to the

numberless inhabitants of Borneo beyond the province of Sarawak."

We passed through the Straits of Balabac, between Borneo and the long

island of Palawan into the Sooloo Sea, said to be infested by pirates,

who have little difficulty in escaping pursuit among the numerous

islands to the south, forming the Looloo Archipelago. To the east of us

were the Philippine islands, owned and misgoverned by the Spaniards.

We, however, kept along the coast of Borneo, and though pirates might

have swarmed in its bays and rivers, we were fortunate in not falling in

with any. We met, however, several traders, Chinese as well as Malay,

from whom we made inquiries through Ned respecting the wreck of an

English vessel in those seas. Blyth also endeavoured to obtain

information as to where the articles we wished to procure were most

likely to be obtained. The captain of one of the Malay vessels came on

board us to do some trading on his own account. As he seemed inclined

to be communicative, we put several questions to him through Ned, who

was evidently highly interested in the replies he received.

To our questions as to what the Malay said, Ned replied, "He tells me,

sir, that he has heard of several white men being at a village on the

banks of a large river some way up from the coast. As far as I can make

out, they have been there a long time, and the natives won't let them

get away. The people he speaks of may be Captain Musgrave and some of

my old shipmates; but yet it does not seem to me from the sort of

country he describes that it can be near the place where the `Amphion'

was lost."

We told Ned to inquire if one of the men belonging to the prahu would be

willing to pilot us up the river, promising him a handsome reward if he

would do so, and undertaking to set him on shore at any place he might

name which we could reach. For this purpose the first mate, Blyth, and

I, taking Ned, went with the Malay captain on board his vessel.

Summoning his crew, he explained the object of our visit and the offer

which had been made. After a long palaver a man stepped out and

expressed his readiness to accompany us. The Malay captain, after a

short talk with the man, introduced him to us, saying that his name was

Kalong, that he was well acquainted with the coast and an experienced

sailor, as indeed are most of the Malays of the archipelago. This

matter, with which all parties were pleased, being settled, we returned

to the "Lily," and sail was made for the part of the coast where Kalong

informed us we should find the mouth of the river. We hove to soon

after sunset that we might not pass the spot during the night.

When Kalong came on deck at daybreak, we once more stood in for the

coast. The wind, however, was light, so that we made but little

progress. He pointed to the southward, indicating that we must steer in

that direction. At length, to our great joy, we saw what was evidently

the mouth of a large river, fringed thickly with mangrove trees.

Ned shook his head. "That's not where the `Amphion' was cast away," he

remarked, as we stood towards it. "Still it may be, notwithstanding,

that our friends are up there. Kalong says that there is water enough

for the brig all the way up to the village, but he thinks it would be

wiser to anchor just within the mouth and let only the boats go up, as

the wind might fail us and we might have a hard job to get out again.

As it is a long pull he also advises that the boats should leave the

brig in the evening, so as to get to the place the next day."

This advice exactly agreed with what the first mate thought best, and

Captain Haiselden, whom he consulted, was of the same opinion. We

accordingly, the wind favouring us, stood on and brought up just inside

the mouth, which formed a beautiful harbour. We lost no time in getting

ready for our expedition. Two boats were lowered, each pulling four

oars, the crews consisting of four Englishmen and four Lascars, besides

Kalong and Ned, the first mate and I going in one and Mr Blyth and the

boatswain in the other. We were all well-armed, and had provisions for

a couple of days. We also carried a number of articles for trading with

the natives, whom we hoped, from Kalong's account, to find friendly.

We had thus left but a small number of men on board, but as the brig was

in a safe place, the captain, trusting to Kalong's report, considered

that there was no risk of her being attacked by pirates. I heard him

tell the first mate, however, when we went into his cabin to wish him

good-bye, that he should have a sharp look-out kept, the guns loaded,

and all hands armed in case of accident; and, he added, "Remember,

Radburn, that you are to run no unnecessary risk; don't trust the

natives too much, and keep your party well together if you land, so as

to be able to get back to the boats. Kalong may be a very honest

fellow, but it is as well not to rely too much on him. If you hear of

any Englishmen being in the village or neighbourhood, get Kalong to open

up a communication with them, and send a written note to ask who they

are."

"Aye, aye, sir!" answered Uncle Jack; "you may depend upon my

discretion."

I naturally felt very eager, for I had persuaded myself that we should

certainly find my father, notwithstanding Ned's doubts. I do not think

my uncle was quite so sanguine, still he was very willing to undertake

the expedition. We had on board a small light canoe, which we had

brought from Singapore, large enough to carry two or three people, but

easily paddled by one. At the last moment it was determined to carry

this canoe with us, as she could tow astern, and might be of great use

in sending ahead to act as a scout.

As soon as everything was ready we shoved off, our shipmates remaining

on board, giving us three hearty cheers as we pulled away. We found

that the river made several bends, so that in a short time we were out

of sight of the brig.

As we passed close, sometimes to one bank, sometimes to the other, we

could hear the cooing of pigeons, the shrill call of peahens, and the

notes of many song birds; above which rose the chattering of troops of

monkeys, while parrots and other gaily-coloured birds flew from bough to

bough. The monkeys occasionally showed themselves, leaping along the

branches, often running out to those above our heads and uttering hoarse

cries, as if ordering us away from their domains, grinning fiercely at

us, hooting and chattering, and shaking the boughs in their indignation.

We had got up some distance, and calculated that it would be dark in the

course of a short time, when, having entered another reach, we saw

before us on the right hand shore an opening in which were several huts,

of a construction common in that country, being erected on tall posts

with a ladder leading to them.

Kalong said that he was not aware of any village being there, and that

it had probably not long been established. As we could see only three

huts, and as there were not likely to be many inhabitants, he and Ned

offered to go on shore and obtain information, while we remained in the

boats with our arms ready for use, should the natives show any signs of

hostility. Uncle Jack, however, directed us to keep our weapons

concealed, while we had, besides the English ensign, a white flag flying

in the bows of our boat.

Blyth, on hearing of the plan, wished to land, and my uncle, after a

little hesitation, gave me leave to accompany him, provided we kept

behind Kalong and Ned until they had ascertained the character of the

people. We accordingly at once pulled in for the bank. Kalong and Ned

sprang on shore, Blyth and I fallowing. We had pistols in our belts,

and each wore a sword; but, as the Malays all go armed, such weapons

were not likely to make them suppose that we were otherwise than

peaceably disposed.

We had not proceeded far, when several Dyaks, who had apparently been

watching us from their elevated dwellings, came down the ladders which

led from them to the ground, and made friendly gestures, inviting us to

advance. The men wore waist cloths of blue cotton which hung down

behind, and were bordered with blue, white, and red. Their heads were

bound with handkerchiefs of the same colours. They wore earrings of

brass, and heavy necklaces of black and white beads. On their arms were

a number of rings of white shells or brass, their long shining black

hair hanging over their shoulders, and to their waists, secured by a

belt, was a pouch with materials for "betel" chewing. In the belt was

stuck a long slender knife, and most of the men held in their hands a

knife-headed spear.

The women, who were better clothed than the men, wore coils of rattan to

which their petticoats were fastened round their waists, besides which

their arms and legs were ornamented with rings of brass wire, and their

heads by hats of curious shape, adorned with beads. They had generally

a pleasant expression of countenance, and appeared ready to afford us a

friendly welcome.

Kalong and Ned at once entered into conversation with them, as they

seemed perfectly to understand each other. No information, however,

could be obtained about the white men of whom we had heard. Without

hesitation they came down to the boats, bringing some mats and other

articles which we purchased at a very moderate rate. They had also with

them some curious monkeys with enormous noses, faces of a brick-dust

colour, and about as ugly specimens of the monkey tribe as I ever saw.

Their bodies were about three feet in length covered with thick fur, of

a bright chestnut-red. I am almost afraid to say how long their noses

were, but they stuck out with the nostrils at the tips and had certainly

a most curious appearance. The arms and legs had somewhat of a whitish

tinge, and the hands were grey rather than black. Ned told us that they

were very active, and when at liberty could be seen leaping from branch

to branch, generally in large troops, holloaing loudly as they go along.

Blyth purchased a couple, as they were very tame and seemed

well-mannered. He hoped to be able to keep them alive if he could

obtain suitable food.

After a short and satisfactory intercourse with our native friends, we

shoved off and proceeded up the river. The tide, however, soon turned,

and Uncle Jack, considering that it would be useless to attempt pulling

against it, brought up for the night a short distance from the left

bank, but sufficiently far off not to run the risk of being surprised by

hostile natives.

As we had a long pull before us, the first mate arranged that all hands

should lie down except two in each boat to keep watch, that we might be

the better able to work the next day. Supper, however, was first served

out, for we had hitherto not had time to eat anything. It was arranged

that Ned and I should have the first watch in our boat, and as soon as

supper was over, the rest of the party stowed themselves away as best

they could on or under the thwarts. The boats lay in the shadow cast by

the tall trees on the bank nearest to us, from which strange sounds ever

and anon came off, produced either by wild beasts or insects, not

sufficiently loud to drown the ripple of the water as it flowed rapidly

by. The bright stars shone down from a cloudless sky on the surface of

the stream, flickering and dancing in the eddies caused by the current.

I found great difficulty in keeping awake, though, of course, I did my

best to prevent my eyelids from closing by constantly shifting my

position and looking round in every direction, not that I apprehended

danger, but from knowing that it was my duty to be prepared for any

contingency.

I had been on watch for an hour or more, when Ned, who was seated on a

thwart, stepped aft. "Hist, Mr Harry," he said, in a low whisper, "do

you hear the sound of voices coming down the river?"

The Mate of the "Lily"; Or, Notes from Harry Musgrave's Log Book · 第 7 / 15 题