charge without an instant's warning, breaking through the jungle at
incredible speed. Unlike most animals, they do not try to protect
themselves by defensive methods, holding the charge until they are
cornered; they are instantly on the defensive. The hunter becomes
just as much hunted as his quarry; each tries to attack by surprise.
It is vitally important in running down seladangs for the hunter to
keep his feet clear of vines and creepers, so that he can be free to
jump; and also to keep his eye on a tree, which will provide refuge
in case he needs it. The only possible way for a hunter to escape
the direct charge of a seladang is to fall flat and let it run over
him; its neck is so short that, when he is prostrate, it cannot reach
him with its horns. Then, if the hoofs have not knocked him
unconscious or broken his bones, he can jump up, before the seladang
can check itself, and run for a tree. For the man once caught on the
beast's horns, there is no escape; it tosses a victim time after time
and then tramples him.
I had never met a seladang--and I must admit that I was not
especially anxious to meet one--but I had no doubt of my ability to
handle it if the emergency arose, and so I determined to go to Rawang
for the rhinoceros. I had confidence in my express rifle and I knew
that the natives would not refuse to accompany me. It would be
useless to force them, of course, for they would be constantly on the
verge of a panic. I sent Ali to talk with the headman and bring him
to my house.
That afternoon a large part of the village across the river from my
house burned to the ground. While I was sitting on my veranda,
waiting for Ali to return with the headman, I saw smoke arising from
one of the houses in the Chinese section. A moment later, flames
appeared, the alarm was given and the village was in an uproar. The
flames leaped from house to house, running down the principal street,
where all the godowns were located. I went across the river to watch
the excitement and see what I could do to help. The natives were
wild: rushing about, falling over one another and going crazy. I
stood at one side, quite out of the way, for a native in such a
condition is a dangerous person; the least word may send him amok and
start him slashing with his _kris_. Not one native thought about the
safety of his women and children. On the contrary, he pushed women
and children out of the way and walked on them in the excitement of
rescuing the one possession that a Malay values--his kris. Men
dashed into burning houses and emerged triumphantly, scorched but
waving their krises over their heads.
One of the tunkus managed to organize in the midst of the turmoil,
what passed as a water-chain. The natives grabbed buckets and ran to
the river, returning at full speed, waving their buckets and getting
in one another's way. I doubt if a single bucket reached the fire
with more than a cupful of water in it. It was so funny that I had
to hide where no one could see me laughing. I heard later that the
old Sultan laughed until he was weak.
He feared only that the wind might change and bring the fire on his
palace; and he sent Mahommed Yusuf to find me and ask my advice.
Yusuf and I decided that, if the wind showed any signs of changing,
it would be best to tear down some of the village, to make a
protecting strip. I went back across the river to my house for
dynamite to aid in the work of demolition. However, the wind did not
change, and, in exactly a hundred minutes after I saw the first
smoke, the fire had run its course.
In that time, a hundred and twenty-five houses had burned to the
ground, but no lives had been lost. And so it was not a serious
calamity, since house-building in that section of the country is a
simple matter. The Malays thought it a great joke that the stores
that were destroyed belonged to the Chinese; for the Chinese were
always cheating them. By the time evening came, it was as if the
fire had been arranged to give the population an exciting and amusing
holiday.
That night, Ali, after indulging in some eloquence on the subject of
my express rifle, brought the headman to me. Until late, we three
sat on the veranda of my house, talking about the rhinoceros hunt and
the chances of encountering a seladang. At last the headman said
that he would think about the matter and give me his answer the next
day.
I spent the morning with the Sultan, who was still laughing about the
water-chain at the fire, and I returned to my house early in the
afternoon. The headman and Ali were waiting for me. It was decided
without further delay that we should go to Rawang to capture the
rhinoceros.
The natives at the headman's kampong were not over-anxious to take
part in the hunt, and we spent several days there, waiting for them
to make up their minds. It was useless to urge them, and to force
them, as I had the power to do, would have been out of the question.
It was a matter of waiting and working up their enthusiasm. Ali
talked with them, cleaning my rifle and telling them about the
"magic" I had performed. Then, after they showed signs of being
properly impressed, I took my gun and began shooting explosive
bullets into the trunks of trees. They stood about, wide-eyed,
watching the bullets tear great holes in the trees. One evening, two
days after our arrival at the kampong, the headman came with the word
that his men had decided that they would like to go
rhinoceros-hunting with me. "But I can take only ten," I replied.
"I want you to come and I will let you select nine others--your best
men." Now that the desire to go rhinoceros-hunting was alive in the
village, I knew that the selection of nine men would make rivalry
keen, and that those who were selected would be proud to go.
Shortly after dawn the next morning we left the kampong and struck
out toward the spot where the rhinoceros had been located. We kept
up a good pace during the day, following the trails through the
jungle and cutting our path. Three days later we came upon signs of
the rhinoceros and began tracking the spoor.
At sundown, as we were approaching an opening where we intended to
make camp, we heard a crash in the jungle. "Seladangs!" screamed the
Malays.
The men dropped everything and jumped for the trees just as two
seladangs came charging down upon us. Ali, who was carrying my rifle
and who had become separated from me when the men rushed for the
trees, started toward me. Gauging the distance, I saw that he could
not make it and I yelled to him to save himself. I jumped backward
and made for a tree; then, as I pulled myself up, I saw the bull
seladang catch Ali on his horns and toss him. I dropped to the
ground again, horrified; I wanted to get my rifle and I forgot about
the other animal.
The cow seladang charged, and I barely had time to get behind the
tree. Unconsciously I had drawn my _parang_, and, as the great
chocolate-colored colored beast plunged past me, I slashed. The
blade hamstrung her, and she plunged, bellowing, into the jungle.
Then the bull, instead of catching Ali's body on his horns, allowed
it to fall to the ground and turned toward me. I swung up into the
branches of the tree, just out of his reach, and slashed downward as
he charged. I failed to hit him and I narrowly escaped falling.
We could hear the cow bellowing furiously and dragging herself away
through the jungle. She did not return. The bull charged back again
and stood beneath me, pawing the ground and bellowing. Then he
turned and attacked Ali's body, trampling upon it, time after time,
until every bone was broken.
Each time the bull returned to the tree, I fired downward at him with
my revolver, but I might just as well have used a pop-gun--the little
bullets had no effect. One dynamite cartridge would have ended him,
but my rifle lay on the ground five yards away. Night came on, but
the seladang did not leave. I remained poised throughout the night,
waiting for a chance to jump down and run for the rifle. Our thirst
became terrible, and there was little consolation in the thought that
the seladang was probably quite as thirsty as we were. But there was
some chance that he would leave us for a few moments to find water,
and I needed only a moment to get the rifle and climb back into my
tree.
Ants and mosquitoes swarmed over us. Trying to find some protection
against them, we wrapped our hands and faces in _sârongs_. But we
were as helpless against insects as against seladangs.
Morning came and wore away to noon, and still the beast stayed by his
post. Then the fever began to hit me and my head throbbed. I
propped myself up against the trunk of the tree, saving all my
strength until the moment when I should need it most.
Ali's body was unrecognizable; he had been gored repeatedly in the
tossing and now he was simply a mass of torn, trampled flesh. The
beast returned to it again and again to sniff and paw, and the sight
made me weak and ill.
The ten natives were scattered through the trees near me and we
talked back and forth. They, of course, depended upon me and my
"magic" to save them, and I, with the fever burning more fiercely
every minute, realized that something must be done immediately. My
thirst was becoming unendurable and my strength was leaving me
rapidly. I called to the men to join me in my tree, and they swung
from limb to limb until we were together. The seladang took up his
position beneath us, bellowing and pawing.
I counted the arms in the party; we had, besides our parangs, four
spears and three krises. With the parangs we cut stout branches;
then we tore our sârongs into strips and bound the krises to the
poles. As was usual in the Archipelago, especially in the inland
districts, the spears and krises were poisoned, and our only hope of
victory lay in that fact. I knew that the poison would kill a man in
a few minutes and I had seen smaller animals die of it, but I did not
know what effect it would have on so large and powerful a brute as a
seladang.
Next we gathered leaves and stuffed a sack, made from a sârong, full
of them, and tied it with a string, so that we could dangle it in
front of the beast. Then three of us armed with the krises took
positions so that we should be above the seladang when he charged,
and we lowered the sack. He snorted and drew back; then he put his
strength into his legs and lunged forward. I drove downward with my
kris, tearing a wound in his back near the hump; he whirled and
charged again, and this time one of the natives blinded him in one
eye.
He withdrew a few yards, snorting, bellowing and pawing. He turned
again on the body of poor Ali, as if to vent his anger on it.
Presently we lured him back with the bundle of leaves, and he charged
again. I scored another cut near his hump.
[Illustration: "Then three of us armed with krises took positions so
that we should be above the seladang when he charged, and we lowered
the sack. He snorted and drew back."]
This charging and jabbing went on for fully an hour, and we seemed no
nearer success than when we started. It was impossible to get in a
death-stroke, and the poison apparently was having no effect upon
him. In any event, I thought, we were winding him, and, if we could
last out another night, he would have to seek water. But there was
another danger--one of the natives, crazed by thirst and excitement,
might run amok there in the tree. I planned, if we were forced to
remain in the tree through the night, to take charge, diplomatically,
of the krises and spears. I regretted having spent all the
ammunition for my revolver on that useless fusillade the day before.
The game resolved itself into an attempt to pierce the seladang's
sound eye; we lured him back, time after time, but could not drive a
kris to the mark. Evening was approaching, and I thought the battle
was over for the day. The seladang stood near by, ignoring, for the
moment, the sack we were dangling. Blood was flowing from a dozen
wounds. When he took a step forward, we cried out in surprise. He
was weakening! He almost tottered away, as if he had forgotten about
us.
Even though he had routed us completely, treed us and kept us treed
and killed my good friend and assistant, Ali, I felt sorry for the
beast, as I sat there watching him. He had put up a magnificent
fight, and, half dead, he would muster his remaining strength and
charge us again if we dared set foot on the ground. It was his
victory until the moment he died.
His head drooped lower; then he went down on his fore knees,
bellowing weakly. Presently his hind quarters slumped down, and
blood began to flow from his mouth.
I dropped from the tree and walked forward cautiously to the spot
where my rifle had fallen; then, armed, I stood watching him in the
throes of death. None of the Malays had followed me, and, when I
told them to come down, they refused. Finally, to convince them that
there was no danger, I put a 50-110 explosive bullet behind the
beast's shoulder.
We dug a grave for Ali and buried him; then we gathered our material
and started back for the kampong. My fever was so bad that the
medicine in my kit did me little good; for hours at a time, I was
unconscious and had to be carried. At the kampong, I rested for
several days, gathering strength to make the trip to the coast.
When I went to see the Sultan at Trengganu, before taking the boat to
Singapore, he regarded me severely and said: "Tûan, why have I given
you big concessions in land? Is it because I want you to go out and
kill yourself in capturing animals?" He seemed satisfied when I told
him that my days as an animal capturer were over, and that, after a
trip home, I should return to Trengganu, to make my fortune in more
peaceful ways.
At Singapore, I saw my doctor, who looked me over and told me that
any more escapades in the jungle would be the last of me. He ordered
me to leave the country at once and I took passage on a steamer
sailing the next week.
Then I hurried off to Palembang, where I had spent my first months
among the Malays. It was Ali's home, and I was in duty bound to take
his kris back for him. The old _hadji_ received me affectionately
and heard the story of his nephew's death.
"He died bravely, tûan?" he asked.
"Yes, and in the faith."
The hadji nodded; that was what he wanted to know--whether or not Ali
died a good Mahommedan.
"On what day did he die, tûan?"
I could not remember what day it was, but I knew what the old man
hoped and I answered, "Friday."
That meant that Ali was certain of Paradise.
I said good-by to the hadji and went back to Singapore to catch my
boat. The fever was still racking my body, but, when I saw the Red
Sea behind us once more, I knew that luck had been with me.