are termed in many ports of India, "dug-outs." They are long and narrow,
and are capable of being propelled with great swiftness. Although very
easy to capsize, they are constantly loaded till so deep that at the
least inclination the water pours over the gunwale, and one man is
usually employed baling with a scoop made out of a banana leaf. Custom,
however, makes them so used to keep the equilibrium, that you often see
the Dyaks, whose canoes are similar to the Malays', standing upright and
propelling them with their spears.
[Illustration: NATIVE BOAT--BORNEO.]
The Malay war-boat, or _prahu_, is built of timber at the lower part,
the upper is of bamboo, rattan, and kedgang (the dried leaf of the Nepa
palm). Outside the bends, about a foot from the water line, runs a
strong gallery, in which the rowers sit cross-legged. At the after-part
of the boat is a cabin for the chief who commands, and the whole of the
vessel is surmounted by a strong flat roof, upon which they fight, their
principal weapons being the kris and spear, both of which, to be used
with effect, require elbow-room.
The Dyak war-boat is a long built canoe, more substantially constructed
than the prahu of the Malays, and sufficiently capacious to hold from
seventy to eighty men. This also has a roof to fight from. They are
generally painted, and the stern ornamented with feathers.
Both descriptions of war-boats are remarkably swift, notwithstanding
such apparent top-weight. To proceed:--
[Illustration: DYAK WAR PRAHU.]
We hove to, to speak to those on board of the canoes, and were informed
by them that the pirates had sustained a severe defeat, and that the
European force was about to descend the river on their return to Kuchin.
As a proof of the victory having been gained, they produced several
heads which had been taken in the fight.
We proceeded about six miles further up the river, when we discovered
the European boats and crews lying at anchor abreast of the smoking
ruins of what had been a Malay town. Here we learnt that the pirates had
been completely routed, after a desperate resistance, that four large
towns had been burnt, and seventy-five brass guns of the country, called
leilas, had been captured. The victory, however, had not been gained
without loss on our side, and had the pirates been better prepared, we
must have suffered much more. Several of the people of Kuchin had been
killed, and of Europeans we had to lament the loss of Mr. Wade, first
lieutenant of the Dido, and formerly of the Samarang, and Mr. Stewart,
one of the residents at Kuchin; the latter gentleman lost his life by an
excess of zeal which quite overcame all prudence. Mr. Wade had landed
with his men after an attack and capture of a fort, and when in advance
received a bullet in the heart. He fell instantly dead; his body was
recovered by his shipmates, and borne to the boat, and during a
temporary cessation of hostilities was conveyed to the river. His loss
was much deplored by his shipmates in both vessels, by whom he was
respected as an officer, and beloved as a friend.
Mr. Stewart, pulling in advance in a small canoe, with some of the
natives belonging to Kuchin, was suddenly pounced upon by three or four
of the enemy's prahus full of men. They ran down the canoe, and thus
were Mr. Stewart and his companions at their mercy. Mercy!--a wrong term
to use when speaking of those who never show any. They were all krissed,
to the number of seventeen, in sight of their companions in the other
boats, who were too far behind to arrive in time to render them any
assistance, although it hardly need be said that every effort was made.
The last that was seen of poor Stewart was his body being carried by one
of the Dyaks into the jungle by the side of the river, and the fellow
was so anxious to obtain the much-valued trophy of a white man's head,
that, as he bore it along, he kept his knife sawing at the head to sever
it from the body. Indeed, so much do these people value a white man's
head, that they will build a separate room on purpose to contain it.
Whilst lying at this place, riding to a strong flood tide, a canoe
floated past us, in which we could discern two dead bodies; they were
both dressed as Malays, and the garments were good. Over the bows of the
canoe there hung a handsomely ornamented kris. We tried to hook the
canoe with the boat-hook, but the strength of the tide was so great that
we could not succeed in securing it, and it floated away with the
stream. We presumed that they were the bodies of some of the Malays
killed in the recent conflict, who probably inhabited a higher portion
of the river, and that they had been put into the canoe by their friends
to be carried home, and had been swept away by the tide from not having
been securely fastened, for nothing would have induced the enemy thus to
make us a present of _two heads_.
"We weighed, in company with the steamer and boats, on the same evening,
and returned to Kuchin, where we arrived on the following day. The
men-of-war boats having been towed by the steamer, we arrived some time
before the native prahus belonging to the river, which had accompanied
us. On the following day they arrived, and the scene was novel and
interesting. They all rounded the point together, dressed out with flags
of all descriptions, beating their gongs and tom-toms, and firing blank
cartridges from their "Leilas." Highly elated with their victory, and
with the plunder which had accompanied it, they celebrated it by all
getting excessively drunk that night upon shamsoo.
We remained at Kuchin for three days, enjoying Mr. Brooke's hospitality;
and during that time it was proposed and arranged that we should pay a
visit to the river Loondoo, the residence of a very remarkable tribe of
Dyaks under Mr. Brooke's authority; but not being able to fix the exact
period for the visit, on that night we returned to the ship.
We had not been much more than twenty-four hours on board, when the
captain, who had been away, returned at midnight; and, at this unusual
hour, ordered all the boats, manned and armed, to be piped away
immediately. We were informed that the river Sakarron was again our
destination; and at four o'clock in the morning we started, with
fourteen days' provisions, and armed to the teeth, to join the Dido's
boats at the mouth of the river Morotabis, from thence to be towed with
them by the steamer to our destination. The cause of this new expedition
was the intelligence that the Arab chief, Serib Saib, who had escaped
during the late conflict, had returned to the Sakarron to collect
together and re-organize his piratical subjects. We soon arrived at the
same spot which we had before visited when the town had been burnt down;
but the expedition proved to be one of little interest. Notwithstanding
his threats, Serib Saib's confidence gave way at the approach of our
force, and he made a precipitate retreat up the river, accompanied by
four or five hundred of his warriors. Nevertheless, we continued to
force our way up the river, with the expectation that, when fairly at
bay, he would make a stand. Our advance was made known to the enemy by
fires lighted on the different hills abreast of the boats. This speedy
mode of communication is adopted by all the natives in this part of the
world. Determined not to abandon the pursuit while a chance remained, we
followed the redoubtable Serib Saib for eighty miles up the river, which
in some parts was too narrow for our boats' crews to make use of their
oars; but all obstacles were overcome in the ardour of the chase.
To impede our progress, large trees had been felled so as to fall across
the river where it was narrow; but these were removed, and we forced our
way on. At last the river, as we approached the source, became little
wider than a ditch, the barges grounded, and could proceed no farther;
the gigs only could float, and we continued, till, after forty-eight
hours of severe labour, we found ourselves at the head of the river; and
we also discovered that Serib Saib had escaped, having with his whole
force landed, and made his way through the jungle into the interior,
leaving at our disposal the forty war canoes which had carried him and
his men. To follow him was impossible; so we were obliged to content
ourselves with the capture of the war canoes, which were all that we had
to show for our exertions. Disappointed, and hungry withal, we were not
sorry to find ourselves once more with our heads down the river.
I must not omit, however, to narrate a little trick played upon our
gallant captain. I have stated that the river was so narrow near its
source that we could not use the oars, and the gigs, which continued the
pursuit, had to be hauled through the bushes by the boat-hooks.
Returning to where the larger boats had been left aground, our bow-man,
who was employed shooting the gig along by such aid as the branches of
the trees, or the tendrils which hung to them, afforded him, stuck his
boat-hook into what appeared to be a suspended ball of moss; but he soon
discovered that it was something more, as it was a nest of hornets,
which sallied out in great numbers, and resented the insult to their
domicile by attacking the bowman first, as the principal aggressor, and
us afterwards, as parties concerned. Now the sting of a hornet is no
joke; we covered our faces with our handkerchiefs, or any thing we could
find, and made a hasty retreat from the spot, pushing the gig down the
stream, till we were clear of their attacks. In the hurry of our escape
we left the boat-hook hanging in the hornet's nest, and not feeling at
all inclined to go back for it, we hailed the captain's gig, which was
following us, and requested very humbly that they would be pleased to
recover our boat-hook for us, as we could not well re-ascend the stream
from the want of it. As we did not mention that it was so peculiarly
situated, the captain saw no objection, and as they came to where it
hung, his bow-man caught hold of the staff, and wrested it from its
position; but this time such force was used that the tendril gave way,
and the nest itself fell down into the boat, and the irritated insects
poured out their whole force to revenge this second aggression. The
insects after all appeared to have a knowledge of the service, for they
served out their stings in the same proportion as the prize-money is
divided: the captain came in for his full share.
Returning rather in a bad humour at having had so long a pull for
nothing, we anchored off a fortified Malay town, which went by the name
of Bintang, and which had been brought to terms by Captain Keppell on a
previous expedition up the river. The people had consequently remained
neutral, although it was well known that they were not to be trusted,
and that, had we been defeated above and beaten back, they would, in all
probability, have attacked us in the rear. As the evening closed in, by
way of astonishing the natives, and giving them some idea of our perfect
equipment, the boats were directed to give a _feu-de-joie_. Some fifteen
guns, with rockets, port-fires, blue lights, supported by a
well-sustained roulade of musketry, had a very warlike effect; and, no
doubt, gave the natives an impression of our superiority in the use of
fire-arms. At the conclusion, Captain Keppell, who was always ready for
fun, gave out the order that all hands were to join in "God save the
Queen," taking the time from him. A dead silence was immediately
produced, waiting for him to lead off, which he did; but, to our great
amusement, he, by mistake, commenced with "Rule Britannia;" and this,
being more to the seamen's taste, certainly, as far as lungs were
concerned, was done most ample justice to.
The saying is, "No song no supper;" of course it must be presumed that a
song deserves a supper. It proved so in this instance; for just as the
chorus was hushed, the Sultan of Bintang, as he styles himself, sent off
to the head boat (the one I happened to be in) a superb supper for seven
people, consisting of seven bronze trays, each tray containing about a
dozen small plates, in which were many varieties of flesh and fowl
cooked in a very superior manner. To each tray was a spoon, made of the
yellow leaf of some tree unknown; but, as specimens of primitive
elegance and utility combined, they were matchless. We had some doubts,
from our knowledge of the treachery of the Malays, whether we should
fall to upon these appetising viands, as there was no saying but that
they might be poisoned. Mr. Brooke, however, who, although not the
commandant, was the mentor of the party, explained that he invariably
observed one rule when treating and dealing with these people,--which
was, never to exhibit any unworthy suspicion of them, as, by so doing,
they became convinced of our own integrity and honour. That this
confidence might have, in many instances, proved dangerous, unless
adopted with great caution, must be admitted; but in our relations with
the people on the rivers of Borneo it was of great service. The Malays
are so very suspicious themselves, that nothing but confidence on your
part will remove the feeling; and, in treating with Malays, this is the
first object to be obtained. The remarks of Mr. Brooke, which were not a
little assisted by the tempting nature of the viands, and no small
degree of hunger, had the effect, and the trays were all cleared out in
consequence.
While I was in this river I was capsized by a _bore_. This, I must
explain to my non-nautical readers, is a huge rolling wave, which is as
upright as a wall, and travels almost as fast as a locomotive. It is
occasioned by the flood tide pouring in and overcoming the feeders to
the river, forcing them back to their source. On this occasion I was
pulling down the river in a small gig, following the other boats, which
had turned up another branch of it, when I perceived it rapidly
advancing, and making a noise not unlike the animal of the same name,
only a great deal louder. Had I been steering a straight course down the
river I should have faced it, and probably have got off with the boat
half full of water; but I calculated upon reaching the point and
entering the branch of the river before its arrival. But I had not
calculated upon its speed, and a strong eddy current at the point was
wicked enough to draw our boat broadside to the middle of the stream.
The wall of water rushed on us, turned us over and over; but fortunately
by its force it also threw us all, with the gig, upon the point. It did
not, however, throw us our oars, which were performing a _pas de quatre_
in a whirlpool close to us. This was a narrow escape, as, had we
remained in the agitated waters, the alligators would soon have dragged
us under. For two minutes the river was in a state of ebullition, but
gradually subsided. We then launched the boat, regained our oars, and
proceeded to join our comrades. Thankful as we were for our lives having
been preserved, still as we were wet through and had lost all our
provisions and necessaries, we were compelled to admit that it was a
very great bore.
Shortly after our leaving this river a fatal accident happened to one of
our best men. The wind was blowing a heavy gale from the westward,
accompanied by thunder and lightning, such as is only to be seen and
heard on the coast of Borneo. The carpenters were on shore felling trees
for masts and yards, and as we were anchored some distance from the
shore a tent was pitched for their accommodation. They had not been in
the tent long when a large iron-wood tree was struck by lightning, and
fell, burying one of the carpenters, Miller by name, in the sand
underneath it. He was extricated with great difficulty; but before any
surgical assistance could be rendered him he was a corpse. On
examination most of his bones were found to be crushed.
Soon after our return from the Sakarron the expedition to Loondoo was
arranged, and we started in the barge and gig, accompanied by Captain
Keppell in his own boat, and Mr. Brooke and Hentig in one of the native
boats, called a Tam-bang. The distance was about forty miles, and we
should have arrived at four o'clock in the afternoon, but, owing to the
narrowness of the channel, and a want of knowledge of the river, we
grounded on the flats, where we lay high and dry for the space of four
hours. Floating with the following tide, we discovered the proper
channel, and found our way up the river, although the night was dark as
pitch: when near the town, we anchored for daylight.
I may as well here give a slight description of the scenery on the
Borneo rivers, all of which, that we have visited, with the exception of
the Bruni, bear a close resemblance to each other. They are far from
picturesque or beautiful, for the banks are generally low, and the
jungle invariably extends to the water's edge. For the first fifteen or
twenty miles the banks are lined with the nepa-palms, which then
gradually disappear, leaving the mangrove alone to clothe the sides of
the stream. When you enter these rivers, it is rare to see any thing
like a human habitation for many miles; reach after reach, the same
double line of rich foliage is presented, varying only in the
description of trees and bushes as the water becomes more fresh; now and
then a small canoe may be seen rounding a point, or you may pass the
stakes which denote that formerly there had been a fishing station. At
last a hut appears on the bank, probably flanked with one or two Banana
trees. You turn into the next reach and suddenly find yourself close to
one or more populous and fortified towns. As you ascend higher the
scenery becomes much more interesting and varied from the mangroves
disappearing. Few of the rivers of Borneo are more than eighty miles in
extent. The two rivers of Bruni and Coran are supposed to meet in the
centre of the island, although for many miles near their source they are
not much wider than a common ditch.
Before day-light of the following morning our slumbers were disturbed
by the crowing of a whole army of cocks, which assured us of the
proximity of the town we were in search of. We got under weigh, and,
rounding the point, Loondoo hove in sight, a fine town, built in a grove
of cocoa-nut trees, and by no means despicably fortified. We found our
progress arrested by a boom composed of huge trees fastened together by
coir cables, and extending the whole width of the river. Had our
intentions been hostile, it would have taken some time to have cut the
fastenings of this boom, and we should, during the operation, have been
exposed to a double line of fire from two forts raised on each side of
the river. The Chief of Loondoo had, however, been duly advised of our
intended visit, and as soon as our boats were seen from the town, a
head-man was sent out in a canoe to usher us in. After a little delay we
got the barge within the boom. When within, we found that we had further
reason to congratulate ourselves that we came as friends, as the raking
fire from the forts would have been most effectual, for we discovered
that we had to pass an inner boom equally well secured as the first. The
town was surrounded by a strong stockade made of the trunks of the
knee-bone palm, a wood superior in durability to any known. This
stockade had but one opening of any dimensions. A few strokes of the
oars brought us abreast of it, and we let go our anchors. The eldest son
of the Chief came to us immediately in a canoe. He was a splendidly
formed young man, about twenty-five years old. He wore his hair long and
flowing, his countenance was open and ingenuous, his eyes black and
knowing. His dress was a light blue velvet jacket without sleeves, and a
many-coloured sash wound round his waist. His arms and legs, which were
symmetrical to admiration, were naked, but encircled with a profusion of
heavy brass rings. He brought a present of fowls, cocoa-nuts, and
bananas to Mr. Brooke from his father, and an invitation for us to pay
him a visit at his house whenever we should feel inclined.
[Illustration: DYAK WOMEN IN CANOE.]
Preparatory to landing, we began performing our ablutions in the boat,
much to the amusement and delight of the naked groups of Dyaks who were
assembled at the landing place, and who eyed us in mute astonishment.
The application of a hair brush was the signal for a general burst of
laughter, but cleaning the teeth with a tooth brush caused a scream of
wonder, a perfect yell, I presume at our barbarous customs. There were
many women among the groups; they appeared to be well made, and more
than tolerably good looking. I need not enter into a very minute
description of their attire, for, truth to say, they had advanced very
little beyond the costume of our common mother Eve. We were soon in
closer contact with them, for one of our party throwing out of the boat
a common black bottle, half a dozen of the women plunged into the stream
to gain possession of it. They swam to the side of our boat without any
reserve, and then a struggle ensued as to who should be the fortunate
owner of the prize. It was gained by a fine young girl of about
seventeen years of age, and who had a splendid pair of black eyes. She
swam like a frog, and with her long hair streaming in the water behind
her, came pretty well up to our ideas of a mermaid.
As we had contrived to empty a considerable number of these bottles
during our expedition, they were now thrown overboard in every
direction. This occasioned a great increase of the floating party, it
being joined by all the other women on the beach, and for more than half
an hour we amused ourselves with the exertions and contentions of our
charming naiads, to obtain what they appeared to prize so much; at last
all our empty bottles were gone, and the women swam on shore with them,
as much delighted with their spoil as we had been amused with their
eagerness and activity.
About 10 o'clock we landed, and proceeded to pay our visit to the Chief.
We were ushered into a spacious house, built of wood and thatched with
leaves, capable of containing at least 400 people. The Chief was sitting
on a mat with his three sons by his side, and attended by all his
warriors. The remainder of the space within was occupied by as many of
the natives as could find room; those who could not, remained in the
court-yard outside. The Chief, who was a fine looking grey-bearded man
of about sixty years of age, was dressed in velvet, and wore on his head
a turban of embroidered silk. The three sons were dressed in the way I
have already described the one to have been who came to us in the canoe.
Without exception, those three young men were the most symmetrical in
form I have ever seen. The unrestrained state of nature in which these
Dyaks live, gives to them a natural grace and an easiness of posture,
which is their chief characteristic. After the usual greetings and
salutations had been passed through, we all sat down on mats and
cushions which had been arranged for us; a short conversation with Mr.
Brooke, who speaks the language fluently, then took place between him
and the Chief, after which refreshments were set before us. These
consisted of various eatables and sweetmeats made of rice, honey, sugar,
flour, and oil; and although very simple as a confectionery, they were
very palatable. We remained with the Chief about an hour, and before we
went away he requested our company in the evening, promising to treat us
with a Dyak war dance. We took our leave for the present, and amused
ourselves with strolling about the town. I will take this opportunity of
making known some information I have at this and at different times
obtained relative to this people.
The villages of the Dyaks are always built high up, near the source of
the rivers, or, should the river below be occupied by the piratical
tribes, on the hills adjoining to the source. Their houses are very
large, capable of containing two hundred people, and are built of palm
leaves. A village or town may consist of fifteen or twenty houses.
Several families reside in one house, divided from each other by only a
slight partition of mats. Here they take their meals, and employ
themselves, without interfering with each other. Their furniture and
property are very simple, consisting of a few cooking utensils, the
paddles of their canoes, their arms, and a few mats.