A fearful nocturnal concert--Fire! Fire!--A clearing in
the forest--A general flight--Masters of the camp!--Mortal
weariness--A morning greeting without any compliments--A
first meeting--In the village--ALÀ against the Orang-putei.
Not having found even a trace of human habitation either on the second
day of our march we were once more compelled to prepare a shelter for
the night as best we could. We made two little alcoves of boughs and
leaves, and having satisfied the cravings of appetite we lighted a fire
on each side of our miniature encampment, piled up enough wood at hand
to keep them burning, and settled ourselves down to sleep, or rather one
of us had to sleep whilst the other watched, as we had agreed to take
turns. In our ignorance we had calculated upon finding ourselves
surrounded by a solemn nocturnal stillness in these remote regions; such
calm quietness as one enjoys during the night on the Alpine and
Appennine woods. We were soon made aware of our mistake, however, for
the monkeys, frightened at the glare of the fires, raised a hubbub of
protests, their shrill cries and chattering voices reaching to the most
acute notes. Leaping up to the very highest branches of the trees they
began to shower down upon us broken twigs, leaves, nuts and other
fruits. They seemed to be holding a meeting overhead at which each
one--and they were a multitude--tried to gabble out a speech and to make
himself heard above all the others.
Deeper and more ominous notes were not long wanting to complete the
infernal chorus. From the dense, dark forest came the blood-curdling
roars of tigers, panthers, and bears mingled with the loud bellowing and
heavy stampede of elephants; we could distinctly here the cracking of
boughs hurled to the ground in their furious course, and the crashing of
bamboo, which with them is a favourite food. One might have said that an
immense legion of demons had invaded the forest, because in its intense,
impenetrable obscurity, only dimly lighted for a yard or two by the
blaze of our fires, everything seemed to turn into life. Every creature,
every reed, every leaf had a voice of its own; a howl, a rustle, a sigh
that filled the night air with diabolical sounds. It was a fearful
pandemonium; a mighty strife twixt victim and victor; an insatiable lust
for blood; a ferocious manifestation of ferocious love.
"Fire! Fire! let us put on fuel!" and we threw log after log upon the
burning piles whilst thousands of sparks flew upwards and the bright
flames cast a red glow around.
But the great voice of the forest did not cease; it still spoke on in
the roars and the bellows of the strong and in the yells and wails of
the weak. It rose up against us, as though pronouncing a malediction
upon the intruders, upon the profaners of those mysteries that, in the
inmost recesses of the jungle, great Mother Nature celebrates during the
night.
For hours we remained there, in a state it is useless for me even to
attempt to describe, and then as day-break approached the fearful
clamour began gradually to die away. Evidently at the first streak of
dawn the wild beasts had returned to their dens. The monkeys were the
last to finish as they had been the first to begin, but what was their
chattering and gibbering compared to that terrible chorus which, with
freezing veins and paralized brains, we had been obliged to listen to
all night?
It has never happened to me to greet a friend with such fervour as I did
the sun that morning. At its appearance a new concert commenced, but now
it was with the pleasant harmony of the buzzing and humming of insects,
blended with the gay singing of birds.
It reanimated us and we began to stretch our poor limbs which, besides
being stiffened and benumbed by the horrors of the past night, and the
thick dew that had fallen upon us, had also been an unconscious prey to
leech and mosquito.
Comparisons are odious. Granted. But between a tiger and a leech, a
panther and a mosquito, notwithstanding their affinity in the liking of
human blood, believe me there is a great difference, and it was perhaps
for this reason that we had not previously noticed the onslaught made by
these lesser carnivora upon our appalled flesh.
A few hurried mouthfuls and we were on the tramp again. Our sleepless
night, and the strong emotions that had kept us awake, made us feel
tired and listless, but the bare idea of being exposed to the same
torment and fear another time, gave us courage and strength to press on
as far as possible in search of some nocturnal refuge, more secure from
the four-footed inhabitants of the land, before sunset should have
enticed them from their lairs.
Weary, and mechanically, we trudged along, anxiously peering in front of
us for some opening in the thick foliage and closely packed trees, or of
some other sign of human life.
It must have been about three o clock in the afternoon--for my watch had
stopped--and it had begun to drizzle, when we saw, at not a great
distance from us, the everlasting twilight of the wild forest dispersed
by the full light of day.
Our spirits revived at the sight, for in all probability it meant a vast
clearing for the erection of huts and, in consequence, the presence of
fellow beings, however savage they might be.
We advanced with alacrity and soon came out in a large open space closed
in by the felled trunks of enormous trees and planted with Indian corn,
yams and sweet potatoes.
In the middle stood two cabins made of the strong branches and gigantic
leaves of the plants and trees which had been cut down. We were just
able to catch a glimpse of some men lying about on the ground, whilst
some women were busily cooking monkey's, serpents, and colossal rats,
and several younger men were preparing poisoned arrows.
We took in the whole scene in a rapid glance for in an instant the dogs
began to bark and their masters were thrown into a state of alarm. We
stopped, and they saw us, saw _me_--a white man--and full of fright they
sprang to their feet. Like lightning they gathered up their provisions,
the women slung the children on to their shoulders and they all
disappeared, over the stout fence they had erected round their dwelling
place, with the agility and the speed of a troop of monkeys.
I really think that if the head of the Medusa, instead of turning into
stone those who looked at it, had given them wings to escape they could
not have flown away faster than did those poor savages at the sight of
me.
I had only time to see that they were quite naked and that their skin
was of a light brownish tint, but this for the moment satisfied me as I
knew that at last I had come into contact with the May Darats in search
of whom I had ventured there.
But I was so thoroughly exhausted in every way that I had even lost the
power of thinking about them or anything else.
I, and my faithful follower, entered the abandoned huts where we found
some hot potatoes (which were quickly devoured) and a curious stringed
instrument that had been left behind in the hasty flight.
Having taken the usual precautions for the night, too tired out to care
for the dangers that might be menacing us, dangers that might prove
worse than those we had experienced the previous night (for we knew what
we had to expect from quadruped enemies, but were ignorant of how our
biped foes would treat our presence in their domain) unmindful and
heedless of everything, dizzy with the need of rest, I threw myself down
on the rude floor and fell heavily asleep.
* * * * *
Towards two o'clock in the morning (as far as we could judge) my
Sam-Sam, who had been keeping watch, awoke me. It was his turn to sleep.
Nothing had happened, as yet, to excite suspicion or inquietude and this
made me hope that we should not receive any serious hostility from the
Aborigines.
By straining my gaze into the darkness of the forest I discerned that
some fires were lighted not very far off, a sure sign that the Sakais
were still near us. Was this a good or a bad omen? Day would without
doubt bring the answer. And day soon came, gladly welcomed by all
Creation save by those people and beasts whose deeds are better suited
to obscurity.
I was preparing a nice strong cup of tea to refresh my stomach and cheer
up my spirits (for recent events had greatly depressed them) when
something lightly whistled above my ear and glided over my head.
I gave a violent start and taking off my hat discovered that it had two
little holes in it, one on each side. At a few steps from me lay an
arrow, which had just fallen there, after having perforated my
head-covering and softly touched my thin locks. It was a hair breadth
escape, in a true sense of the saying, for the sharp missile shot at me
from the Sakais infallible blow-pipe had first been carefully poisoned.
That unexpected and not very friendly "good morning" called me back to
the bitter reality of my position, and warned me not to delay coming to
an understanding with them at once.
Prudence forbade my presenting myself in their midst because the colour
of my skin, although well sunburnt, would have drawn upon me certain
death. I was convinced that in their primitive superstition they would
have believed me an evil spirit and as such would have speedily
despatched me to another world. The only thing to be done was to send
hither my intelligent Sam-Sam who willingly allowed himself to be loaded
with tobacco, coloured beads, _sirih_ and matches and then sallied forth
to make a truce.
He was accorded an audience without any difficulty which fact was
perhaps due to the similitude of his race with theirs but more probably
to the gifts he carried with him.
My ambassador was interrogated with eagerness and curiosity about the
_orang putei_ (white man), and he told them that I had come laden with
gifts and full of good-will towards them. But the Sakais would not hear
of my approaching their new encampment and sent word that they would
soon favour me with a visit.
And they kept their promise without losing any time in making a toilet
or getting into a dress suit. They were in three, two stalwart youths
and a man of between forty and fifty, all armed with their _sumpitans_
(blow-pipes).
By means of the Malay language and the universal one of gestures, I
explained to them that I did not mean them any harm, that on the
contrary it was my desire to help them in whatever way I could and that
I should like to live amongst them if they would let me, as I wanted to
initiate some plantations in their part.
They replied by first trying to dissuade me from taking up my abode with
them, and then suggested that it would be better for me to go to a small
village at a short distance off, whither they offered to accompany me.
I thanked them and accepted the offer, telling them, as a recompense,
where we had left our sack of provisions. I afterwards heard that they
had succeeded in finding it.
* * * * *
I felt so contented at having made the first step--which is always the
most difficult--that notwithstanding the thoroughly exhausted state in
which I knew myself to be, I re-commenced my journey with a light heart,
escorted by the three Sakais and my Sam-Sam. But arrived at a certain
point it was impossible for me to proceed.
Besides the stiffness of my joints, my flesh was tingling and bleeding
with the bites and stings of many insects. In order to prove my
sufferings to my companions I showed my livid limbs to them and I saw an
expression of pity pass over their countenances. It seemed to me a good
augury for one who was joining their tribe.
We stopped, and the Sakais quickly built up the huts, lighted the fires
and afterwards ate some rice with us. We then lay down to repose for the
night, but if Sleep closed our eyes I think Mistrust opened them and
none of us enjoyed much slumber in the end.
Early the next morning we continued our course and reached the group of
cabins dignified by the name of village. Here the same thing took place
as on the previous day. In spite of my being in the company of three of
their own people, which I thought would have reassured them, at my
appearance the huts were rapidly deserted amidst cries of terror.
My three guides, however, managed to get into communication with their
brethren and after a while led them to me without their making any
resistance.
I got their consent to let me settle down near them on the condition
that I did not seek to enter their huts. The reason of this interdiction
I learnt later on. It had been a prescription of the Alà, a sort of
sorcerer, who believed, or made believe that my presence would have an
evil effect upon a sick mother and her new-born babe.
The Sakais, stimulated by my presents, built me a solid and pretty
comfortable cabin near a rivulet and not far from them, and I installed
myself there forthwith.
The first day of our acquaintance it happened that I accidentally called
them Sakais. They changed face and some of them protested angrily:
"You are not good, because you insult us and call us bad names!".
It was a dangerous slip of the tongue and I hastened to make my peace by
explaining that I had heard the term used by the other people but that I
knew they were really May Darats whose kindness and gentleness had
often been abused by their neighbours, and in the future I meant to save
them from being cheated and deceived by their former aggressors.
This declaration calmed their resentment and I was able to begin a
quiet, tranquil life amongst those simple, sincere beings, a life so
calm and undisturbed that I have never had cause, then or now, to regret
the civilized society from which I had voluntarily withdrawn myself,
persuaded that if my character and habits incapacitated me for the
dubious and not always straightforward transactions of the commercial
world, the same moral qualities which impeded me from becoming a
business man might find good ground for bringing forth fruit in the pure
hearts and minds of a primitive people, who knew neither fraud, nor
hypocrisy.