DOWN THE SIMUJAN AND UP THE SARAWAK
The proposition of Captain Scott was certainly an astounding one, not
unlike the daring of those men who have crossed the Atlantic in a dory
or in small sailboats; and so it struck the other members of the cabin
party. Scott was not a reckless navigator; and his companions had
voyaged with him on stormy seas several times in the Maud, though she
was a better sea-going craft than the Blanchita. She was decked over her
entire length, so that she could be closed as tight as the inside of a
barrel, while the steam-launch was an open boat.
Scott did not regard the venture as an extremely perilous one, though he
would not have thought of such a thing as crossing the Atlantic in a
craft like the Blanchita, principally because she could not carry coal
enough to render the trip a prudent risk. The distance from land to land
was about five hundred miles, and the little steamer could easily make
this distance inside of three days. But the captain must speak for
himself.
"Now, fellows, you can study the chart for yourselves," said he, as he
put the point of his pencil on the mouth of the Sarawak River. "If the
Blanchita were a sailing-craft instead of a steamer, I should not have
a moment's hesitation; for though she is not heavy and clumsy, she is
very strongly built. I have looked her over several times, with this
trip in my head."
"But she can be rigged as a sailing-craft, and has a short mast and a
sail," interposed Morris. "I talked with the rajah about her, and he
told me that he had been out to sea in her. He said he had never had
occasion to use the sail, but he carried it in case anything should
happen to the engine."
"That betters the situation very materially," replied the captain. "If
we have anything to depend upon if the engine should break down or the
coal should give out we should be all right."
"There must be heavy seas out in the China Sea," added Louis, as he
looked over the chart.
"We haven't seen any very heavy seas in any of these waters. The
south-west monsoons prevail at this season of the year in these waters.
I don't find any decided ocean current laid down on the charts of the
southern and western portions of the China Sea. They strike in at the
eastward of Java, and flow to the eastward of Borneo, through the
Macassar Strait," said Scott, pointing out the direction on the chart.
"That looks favorable; and if there is any current to speak of, it runs
in the direction of the monsoons, and therefore will not be likely to
cause heavy winds."
"If I thought the trip was a very dangerous one, I certainly should not
propose to make it," added the captain.
"Fish!" shouted Clingman at the wheel.
In spite of their interest in the discussion, all the party rushed
forward at this cry. The captain ordered the wheelman to stop her,
though her headway kept her moving for some minutes after the screw
ceased to revolve. The men baited the hooks as soon as fish were
indicated. The boat had reached the locality where the catch of the day
before had been obtained, and all hands were on the lookout. The lines
were thrown over, and the fish bit quickly as soon as the steamer was at
rest. In half an hour they had taken seven.
"Keep her moving, Clingman," said Captain Scott, as the party hurried
back to the cabin to continue the discussion.
Pitts dressed the fish, and put them in the ice-chest. Achang had
completed the skinning of the orang, and the skin was now drying in the
sun. The voyage to Siam or Cambodia looked very much like an adventure,
and the young men were deeply interested in it.
"I don't think we are likely to encounter any very heavy weather in the
western part of the China Sea," said Captain Scott, as he put his pencil
on the chart again. "We may be overhauled by a typhoon."
"And what is a typhoon?" asked Felix. "I know it is some sort of a
storm, and that is all I do know."
"There are different names for a storm in different parts of the earth,"
replied Scott. "What is a hurricane in the West Indies is a cyclone in
the northern part of the Indian Ocean, and a typhoon in the China Sea.
They are all alike in substance, being revolving storms, in which the
wind whirls around in a circle, and at the same time has a forward
movement as a whole towards some point of the compass. But there are
various signs which indicate the approach of a typhoon or a hurricane;
and in these seas the barometer has to be watched constantly."
"I suppose we should be out of sight of land about all the time on the
passage," suggested Morris.
"Not at all, my lad; for the first two hundred miles of the course we
should not be out of sight of land half of the time, or only for a few
hours at a time. Now look at the chart, all of you. Here we are at the
mouth of the Sarawak River. About a hundred miles west of that is Cape
Datu, the most western point of Borneo. Then for two hundred miles there
is a chain of islands extending to the north-west, which is our course.
These are the Natuna Islands; the largest one takes the same name, and
is forty miles long. There are several other small islands north of this
one, and if the weather came on very bad we could make a lee under one
of them."
"Channel, sir!" shouted Clingman.
"I think you have got an idea of the whole thing, and we have a couple
of days to think of it," said the captain, as he rose from his seat. "I
will leave the chart here, and you can all study it."
Scott went forward to the wheel. He had caused a red rag to be tied to
the top of a screw-pine while the sampan was looking for a channel
through the lake, and Clingman had stopped the boat abreast of it. The
captain took the helm himself; and he had carefully observed various
marks, and obtained the bearings of the mountain, and other prominent
objects which might assist him in taking the steamer through the shallow
lake. He started her at once, and rang the speed-bell confidently, as
though he had been through the lake a dozen times before.
It was sunset when the boat entered the narrow river, and they were
called to supper. Clinch was placed at the wheel. It was a good moon,
and the boat continued on her course till she came to the Dyak village
where they had visited the long-house. She had been seen or heard as she
approached; and the whole village was on the shore, including Mr. Eng.
"We are not going to lie up to-night," said Captain Scott when asked to
land. "We are somewhat in a hurry to get back to Kuching, and we shall
run down to Simujan this evening."
"I am going in the morning, Captain," added the agent.
"I will tow you down, and you can sleep on board if you wish."
"Thank you; my men will come down with the sampans to-morrow, and I
gladly accept your offer," replied Mr. Eng. "But I must first go over to
the _pangah_."
"To what? Will it take long?" inquired the captain.
"The pangah, or head-house of the village. I left my portmanteau there,
and must get it."
"The head-house! May we go with you? for we did not stop to look at it
when we were here before."
"Certainly you may go with me; I will have some torches so that you can
see it as well as in the daytime," replied the agent, as he started with
the cabin party, attended by four Dyaks who had come to the river with
torches. "No head-hunting has been done for many years, as you are
aware, and not many heads are on exhibition. In some villages you will
find them by the hundred, though the people here were never much given
to the barbarous practice. It was not necessary in this part of the
island that a young man should get a head before a girl would accept him
as her husband. Here it is."
It was a circular building not far from fifty feet in diameter, with a
conical roof. In the centre was a place for a fire, which was perhaps
required in cleaning the abominable trophies of war or individual
murders. All around the apartment was a sort of divan, or bench, while
over it were hung up the skulls, all nicely cleaned in the first
instance, but now darkened by the smoke.
"This is the public building of the village, and the council when it
meets has its place here for deliberation and action," said Mr. Eng,
when he had pointed out what was to be seen in the building.
"Rather a sombre place, I should say, for such a purpose," suggested
Louis.
"When you got used to the skulls you would not mind them any more than
you would any other dry bones," laughed the agent. "I slept here last
night, and the young men and boys lodge here. If you were to remain over
night, young gentlemen, you would be quartered here; for it is the home
of the stranger who visits the village."
"Then, I should be very thankful that we had a cabin in our steamer,"
replied Louis. "But there is no accounting for tastes."
The agent gave his baggage to a Dyak, and the party returned to the
boat. A bed in the cabin was prepared for Mr. Eng, who said he was very
tired, for he had walked a great distance that day, and he retired at
once. The captain took the first watch, with two of the men. It was
plain sailing, and in the middle of the night the Blanchita was anchored
in the river in front of the kampon. Scott turned in then, with one of
the port watch on duty.
In the morning they could not be induced to accept Mr. Eng's pressing
invitation to remain a day or two at Simujan. He promised to take them
to the coal and gold mine if they would remain; but all of them were so
full of the great project that the invitation was declined. Three of the
fish were presented to the agent, who told them something about it, and
declared that it was the finest fish on the island.
A quantity of ice was obtained at the town; and Pitts carefully packed
the rest of the fish, which were still hard and in nice condition. The
captain desired to present a couple of them to Rajah Brooke, and some of
the others to officers who had been very kind to them, and had assisted
them in many ways. In the early morning they bade a grateful adieu to
the agent, and departed on the trip to Kuching.
The tide was going out, and they made a quick passage to the sea. On
their arrival there they found a stiff south-west wind blowing, and the
bay covered with white-caps. They had not tried the Blanchita in
anything like a heavy sea, though the rajah had declared that she was a
very able and weatherly sea-boat. Captain Scott was very glad of the
opportunity to test her behavior in rough weather. He went to the helm
himself as the boat came out of the Sadong. The very first wave that
broke on her bow scattered the spray from stem to stern.
[Illustration: THE BOAT ROSE GRACEFULLY ON THE BILLOWS.
_Page 132._]
Scott ordered the men to batten down the curtains on the weather side.
But the boat rose gracefully on the billows, and did not scoop up any
water in doing so. Boxes, barrels, and other movable articles were
secured, and the captain was delighted with the working of the boat.
"I don't want any better sea-boat than the Blanchita," said he with
great enthusiasm. "I doubt if we get it any rougher than this on the
voyage to Cambodia Point."
"Unless we run into a typhoon," said Morris, who was observing the
conduct of the boat with quite as much interest as his superior officer.
"We won't run into a typhoon," replied the captain.
"How can you help yourself? As sailors we must take things as they
come."
"If navigators have a thousand miles or more of ocean ahead of them,
they must face the music. But among these islands, if the weather looks
typhoony, we can get under a lee, or make a harbor in some bay. But
don't try to cross the bridge till we get to it, Morris."
"Sail, ho!" shouted Clingman.
It was a steamer about as far off as she could be made out. The two
craft were approaching each other, and the steamer from the west went
into the Sarawak ahead of the Blanchita. She was a small vessel,
apparently of not more than three hundred tons. It soon became evident
that she was not a fast sailer, for the Blanchita held her own with her
all the way up the river to Kuching.