ADVENTURES WITH A BIG SNAKE AND A MAN-EATER.
When, after a three weeks’ run along the coast, we arrived at the mouth
of the River Progo--which, rising in the mountains of Kadu, in the
interior of Java, empties itself into the sea at Martaram--we found it
necessary to ship fresh water; and for that purpose three men, with a
sampan and several empty casks, were ordered by Prabu to proceed up
the stream. Then my brother and I were positively suffering for want
of animal food. I say my brother and I, because the only provisions
the natives cared about were rice, fish, and water; nay, so abstemious
are these people, that it is a common boast among them that when
_necessary_, as in the case of troops in the field, they can live upon
the leaves of trees alone. Thus it was that, when Martin found the
sampan crew were going up the river, he said:
“Claud, old fellow, we shall get as thin as weasels if we don’t soon
get something better than rice and fish to live upon. What say you to
going with these fellows, and trying our rifles among the game in the
interior, or at least along the banks?”
“Nothing I should like better. I will persuade Prabu to give us
permission.” But the latter required no persuasion; for not only did
he give us leave, but a sampan to ourselves, and Kati, who had been a
mighty hunter in his native isle, for our guide and mentor.
Taking advantage of this, in an hour or two we were pulling up the
river to get beyond the tide; which, by the way, being at the flood,
much lessened our labor, for, merely resting upon our oars, we were
swept rapidly up the stream without any exertion of our own.
When we arrived at the spot where the water was to be obtained, we told
the crew of the other sampan to fill their casks and return to the
prahu without waiting for us; then, by Kati’s advice, we proceeded up
the river, until we had reached within, as he believed, a few leagues
of the ancient city of Yugyacarta. Here we landed, and, having secured
our boat to the trunk of one of the thousand mangrove-trees along the
banks, advanced into the jungle, preceded by Kati, who beat the path
for us; but, as we left the river further and further in our rear, I
began to have some misgivings as to our safety.
“Suppose,” I said, “we should beat up a tiger, Martin?”
“Well,” he replied, quite coolly, “suppose we do, we shall have to
shoot the fellow, that’s all!”
“Hilloa! what have we here?” he exclaimed, discharging his rifle into
a flock of some thirty or forty birds, which rose and flew through
the foliage of the trees. Looking up, my eyes were dazzled by the
wonderful effect of the sun upon their plumage: never had I seen so
beautiful a sight.
“Sahib, they are God’s birds,” said Kati.
“God’s birds!” I repeated, picking up two that had fallen. “They are
birds of paradise, Martin.”
“Birds of paradise!” he repeated, examining the wondrous beauty of
their plumage. “What a pity I have killed them! However, it can’t be
helped--we must keep them for specimens. But I wonder how they came
here. I have always heard that they are only to be found in Papua and
the Moluccas.”
“Have got away, sahib, from some prahu wrecked upon the coast.”
“More likely they have escaped from the aviary of some native prince.
But,” said I, as we walked on, “do you remember the queer stories we
used to read at school about these beautiful creatures, Martin?”
“No.”
“Well then--how that they puzzled all the learned, who declared that
they were inhabitants of air, living upon the dews of heaven, and never
resting below?”
“Well, Claud, there was good reason for the supposition; for I do
recollect having read that all the earlier specimens brought to Europe
were without feet.”
“Aye, but that originated with the natives of the Moluccas, who,
although savages, were very cunning. For instance, descrying the great
admiration Europeans had for the beauty of their plumage, and knowing
the high prices they would pay for them, before bringing the birds to
market they cut off their feet--which, as you see, are ugly, and their
_only_ deformity. One deceit led to another. The purchaser, finding the
birds without legs, naturally inquired after those members, and the
seller, as naturally, began to assert that they had none. Thus far the
European was imposed upon by others--in all the rest he imposed upon
himself. Seeing so beautiful a bird without legs, he concluded that it
could live only in air, where legs were unnecessary. The extraordinary
splendor of its plumage assisted this deception; and as it had heavenly
beauty, so was it asserted to have a heavenly residence; hence its
name, and all the false reports that have been propagated concerning
it.”
“But how do the natives catch them?” asked Martin.
“By concealing themselves in the trees where they resort; and having
covered themselves up from sight in a bower made of the branches, they
shoot at the birds with arrows made of reeds; and, as they assert, if
they happen to kill their king, they then have a good chance of killing
the greatest part of the flock. The chief mark by which they know the
king is by the end of the feathers in his tail, which have eyes like
those of a peacock. When they have taken a number of these birds their
usual method is to gut them and cut off their legs; they then run a hot
iron into the body, which dries up the internal moisture, and, filling
the cavity with salt and spices, they sell them to Europeans.”
“Stay--listen, Claud; there is some great beast near,” cried my
brother, interrupting me, and at the same time bringing his rifle to
the “present.”
I trembled, but followed his example, keeping my finger upon the
trigger; nearly a hundred yards before us--(we were just then ourselves
in a cleared space amongst tall grass)--the rattans in the jungle bent
and crackled, and soon the head of the new-comer presented itself.
“Big pig, sahib; don’t both shoot at once,” cried Kati, drawing his
creese.
“Martin,” I said, “be wary and cool; aim between the eyes, and I will
reserve my fire in case you miss.”
On came piggy, not with a run, but at a gentle, ambling pace, coolly
and defiantly looking us in the face--so gently, indeed, that with
patience we might have bagged him; but before he advanced more than a
dozen yards, my impulsive brother fired, exclaiming, “There’s a dead
pig for you!”
But not so: the bullet, passing through his neck, did but arouse the
animal, making it change its trot into a charge.
“Load quickly, Martin,” cried I, at the same time sending a bullet that
hit the pig in the forehead, and sent him over, snorting, grunting, and
fruitlessly endeavoring to get upon his legs again.
“Bravo, Claud--a capital shot! but now let us put the poor brute out of
his misery.”
“No, sahib--not hurry,” cried Kati; “pig gore you with his tusks--he
only sham being so bad he can’t stand.” And with his _sarong_--which
he had taken off and bound tightly round his left arm--and creese
in hand, he ran towards the animal; but when within a couple of
yards of it, he suddenly came to a dead halt, and there stood as if
terror-stricken. But so were we, for we saw rise from amongst the
tall grass to the height of a man, a huge _liboya_ (a species of
boa-constrictor common to Java); and there for a moment it remained,
putting forth its forked tongue, and glaring at pig and man, as if
undecided upon which to spring. A grunt or cry of terror, however, from
the former settled the matter, for the reptile instantly fell upon the
pig and began to twine itself around him, crushing his bones.
“There goes a month’s rations for the whole crew,” said Martin.
“Not if I can help it;” and, taking a good aim, I fired, but, missing
the head, the bullet passed through its neck. The huge reptile now
uncoiled itself from the pig, and began to strike his tail around with
the rapidity and power of a scythe mowing grass by steam--sending the
mud, sand, and dirt about in showers.
“Sahibs, go not near snake, but fire again; while I go and get rope
from sampan.”
“What on earth does he want with the rope?” said Martin. But Kati had
disappeared, and I was too much engaged to reply, for I was reloading
my rifle. That being done, I again fired and hit the serpent. This
shot, however, only excited its fury the more and caused it to raise
such a whirlwind of dust and mud, that, to avoid being blinded, we were
compelled to retreat some distance.
“Now,” said Martin, when the reptile had become quiet, and the dust
allayed; “let us send a volley.”
This we did, and effectively, for both bullets passed through its head.
“Bravo, Claud! we have saved our bacon--or pork; the snake is dead,”
cried Martin, advancing towards the carcass of the pig.
“Not so--if you value your life, remain where you are,” I replied; for
I saw that the reptile, notwithstanding its mortal wounds, was writhing
and twisting about in such a manner as to be dangerous for any person
to approach it. Kati, however, who now came running up to us, carrying
a rope with a noose at one end, had no such fears. Going within a few
yards, and handling it as dextrously as an American of the prairies
would a lasso, he by one throw sent it over the head.
“Now, sahibs, pull tight--choke snake, and we draw him to sampan.”
“What for?” asked Martin, in astonishment. “It is the pig we want in
the sampan, not this brute of a snake.”
“Sahib, yes--he not dead yet--we fasten rope to sampan--then drag him
’bout till no more ’live.”
“But that’s no answer,” replied Martin; “let him die here. What do we
want with it on board the boat? Let’s take the pig.”
“Come, come, Martin,” I said, “let us humor Kati; he is a native, and
understands what he is about.”
“Well, let us secure the pig first, and I will help you,” he replied,
proud of his first game, and fearing to be robbed by some wild beast.
We complied, and by our united efforts hauled the snake to the river’s
edge; then, fastening the rope to the stern, we got into the boat and
dragged the reptile, still alive and swimming about in the water like
an eel, up to the other sampan, the crew of which, having filled their
casks, were about departing. At a word, however, from Kati, one of the
men, taking the end of the rope that had been fastened to our sampan,
ascended a tree till he reached a forked branch; throwing it over this,
he let one end down to his comrades, who then hauled up the snake--some
twenty feet in length, and as thick as the body of a boy twelve years
of age. Then the man upon the branch, placing a sharp knife between
his teeth, began to descend, holding on to the slimy body by means of
his legs and one hand, ripping it up and skinning it as he came slowly
down. By the time he came to the ground again, he had no pleasant
appearance, his mahogany-colored skin being all besmeared with the
reptile’s blood. But the result was worth the pains taken to procure
it, for in a very short time the natives had emptied one of the casks
and re-filled it with the fat, or rather oil--a commodity so marketable
that it proved a valuable gift to Prabu.
Having thus shipped our prizes and dispatched them to the prahu, we
pulled back in the direction of our hunting-ground, with the intention
of looking after other game; for one pig, we knew, would be but a sorry
store for the long voyage before us.
“I wish we could just bag a few of those Argus pheasants we used to
have at Mynheer’s,” said Martin.
“About as probable as to find the golden pheasant of China!” replied
I. “Why, the Argus pheasant is only found in Sumatra.” (_Apropos_ of
the common pheasant, my young reader is not perhaps aware that its
progenitors were first brought to Europe from the banks of the Pharsis,
a river of Colchis, in Asia Minor, and from which they derive their
name.) “Besides,” I added, “it would be barbarous indeed to slaughter
so beautiful a bird with a rifle-bullet. What would they think of such
unsportsmanlike conduct in America?”
“Oh! bother about what they think in America, Claud, when we are dying
for want of fresh provisions; still, I admire their beauty as much as
you.”
“Aye, brother, just now you would think one very beautiful, especially
with bread-sauce.”
“Never mind, Claud; if I can only get sight of one, we will have him,
and dressed, too, before we return to the prahu; nevertheless, they
_are_ pretty birds. Don’t you remember darling old Goldsmith’s anecdote
about their beautiful plumage?”
“Repeat it, Martin, and it will turn you from your barbarous design.”
“Well, then, after telling us that ‘next to the peacock the pheasant is
the most beautiful of birds, as well for the nice color of their plumes
as for their happy mixtures and variety,’ he says that Crœsus, King of
Lydia, being seated upon the throne, adorned with royal magnificence
and all the barbaric pomp of Eastern splendor, asked Solon, if he had
ever beheld anything so fine? The Greek philosopher, no way moved by
the objects before him, or taking a pride in his native simplicity,
replied that, after having seen the beautiful plumage of the pheasant,
he could be astonished at no other finery.
“There, Claud, you have the anecdote; but what does it prove? Not that
Solon did not like them with bread-sauce, but that the old Greek,
having a reputation for wisdom, wanted to sustain it by saying a clever
thing, or that, in his heart, he looked upon the king’s riches and
splendor as the fox did at the grapes--‘they were so much beyond his
reach that they must be sour.’ But, hilloa, Kati! what’s a-do now?” he
said, as he saw our companion take off his sarong, and bind it tightly
around his left arm.
“Hush!” replied the latter, placing his finger upon his lips, and
pointing to a small boat, rowed by a single inmate, that had just
rounded a bend of the river and was approaching us.
“Well, what matters? He is only one and we are three,” replied Martin,
thinking Kati regarded the boatman as some suspicious personage; but
when the latter, pointing in the wake of the boat, whispered the word
“man-eater,” he trembled indeed, and so did I; for we could now see the
long scales, dark, hideous body, and snout of a huge crocodile. The
man, too, evidently knew his danger, for he was pulling with might and
main to outrun the reptile, knowing that if it once got so far ahead
that it could get its tail beneath the boat, he would himself soon fill
its jaws.
“What shall we do--what _can_ we do--to help the poor fellow?” I cried.
“Wait till its snout gets a little higher above water, and then send a
bullet into him,” said Martin.
“No, no, sahib--not good; man-eater not care for that--his scales like
one wall.”
“Well, what then, Kati? I will not sit here and see a human being
quietly fall into the jaws of a brute like that, if I can help it.”
“Me help it, sahib; me kill man-eater almost before grow to one man.”
But now our attention became fixed with terrible interest upon the
scene before us: the boatman, panting, exerted himself to his utmost,
the reptile still following, and evidently gaining upon the boat.
“I should like to put a bit of this salt upon his tail,” said Martin,
fingering the lock of his rifle.
“No, no, not good send bullet--may want it if me not kill him,” replied
Kati.
“Yes, let us reserve our charges,” said I; but the next instant the
crocodile had passed under the boat; there was a wild moan, and man
and sampan were some yards in the air; but as soon, almost, as they
had again touched the water, Kati, who had leaped from our boat, and
was between the boatsman and the reptile, the latter--apparently
astonished that a man should be swimming boldly _toward_ instead of
_from_ him--rested for an instant. That instant, however, was enough
for the brave Kati to compose himself for the coming struggle. We kept
our fingers on the triggers, and our rifles in such a position that,
should the monster obtain the least advantage over its antagonists, we
might send a bullet into its eye, or, if such a fortunate opportunity
presented itself, its belly--for, you see, the scales are bullet-proof.
Suddenly, the brute opened its huge jaws, a thrill of horror passed
through our frames, and on the instant I should have fired but for
Martin, who exclaimed--
“Great Heaven! Kati has thrust his arm down the brute’s throat!” and
so he had, and immediately afterwards the surface of the water became
tinged with black-red blood.
By opening his jaws, the reptile had given his enemy an opportunity,
for at once Kati thrust in one arm up to the shoulder, while with the
other he had stabbed it in the throat with his creese; and by repeating
these blows rapidly, at the same time that the water entered the mouth,
the body had swollen to the size of a large tub, and in a few minutes
more the eater of men was dead and harmless, and Kati was ashore
receiving our congratulations.
The delight of the native whose life had been so miraculously saved was
almost frantic: he fell down before Kati, kissed his feet, and clasped
his knees; but upon the body of the crocodile--which, when it had
floated near the bank, we dragged ashore--he vented the most childish
spite, stamping upon it with his feet, calling it the most horrible
names, and stabbing it in the belly.
Truly, it was hideous to look upon--by far worse than when in the
water. It was a large, double-crested crocodile, of the species common
to the rivers of Java, being, from the tip of the snout to the end of
the tail, twenty-five feet in length.
I may here remark that, although the feat performed by Kati seemed to
us at that time very wonderful, it is one not at all uncommon among
the wild tribes of the East; also, that there are many methods of
taking the crocodile. For instance, in Siam, in the rivers of which
these reptiles swarm, the hunters throw three or four strong nets
across a river, at proper distances from each other, so that if the
animal breaks through the first it may be caught by one of the others.
When first taken it lashes its tail in all directions in its endeavor
to escape, but by so doing exhausts its strength; then the natives
approach their prisoner in boats, and pierce him with their weapons
till it is weakened by loss of blood; they then tie up its mouth, and
with the same cord fasten the head to the tail, bending the back like a
bow. The animal thus taken is not killed, but brought into subjection
by the slaves of Siamese noblemen, who keep them in small lakes in the
grounds of their homes for their amusement, and who, it is said, so far
tame the reptiles that they can bridle and ride them like horses.