CHAPTER V

The expedition which had taken the Rajah into the interior was only one among many he had to undertake in order that trade and commerce might be established in safety in remote parts of his kingdom. In Sarawak, epidemics of head-hunting are apt to occur unexpectedly amongst Dyak tribes, just as of late years the plague has unaccountably broken out afresh in different parts of the world.

One of the largest rivers in the country, the Rejang, whose waters are deep enough for 170 miles to float vessels and schooners of moderate size, has ramifications in the smaller tributaries which run in various directions into mountainous districts. On these hills, sometimes two or three thousand feet in height, Dyaks, who dearly love their independence and to feel the importance of being able to undertake skirmishes on their own account, build houses (to which they can retire temporarily for protection) on the precipitous sides of mountains and hills, like eagles’ nests clinging to lofty peaks, and to which apparently only birds can soar. These people, however, climb like monkeys; their activity is wonderful, and when one of these tribes ensconces

itself in such inaccessible places it is difficult to dislodge and coerce it into moving to lower and more civilized portions of the territory. At the time of which I am writing, one of these tribes had been particularly tiresome. A Dyak chief, named Lintong,[6] had gathered round him a considerable force of followers, entrenched himself at the head of a stream, where he had managed to build a fleet of boats from the enormous forest trees which grew in the neighbourhood. At the head of his fleet, he harassed and plundered the more law-abiding inhabitants of the delta.

Mr. Harry Skelton, one of the Rajah’s officers stationed at a place called Sibu, a fortified settlement sixty miles up from the mouth of the Rejang River, had incurred Lintong’s displeasure owing to severe sentences he had inflicted on one or two members of the tribe, who had been caught red-handed. This made Lintong exceedingly angry, and one night, about a fortnight after my first arrival in the country, Lintong descended with his fleet of boats, manned by some three thousand men, and attacked Mr. Skelton’s Fort just before daybreak. It was nearly taken by surprise, for Dyaks have a way of muffling the sound of their paddles, and although the Fort was built about twenty yards from the river, and the fleet came within earshot of it, no sound was heard by the sentries, notwithstanding that they were on the look out for any emergency. “Face of Day” and his men landed, dashed up to the Fort with horrible yells and threw showers of poisoned arrows and pointed bamboo spears at the building. Sarawak Forts are all built on the same pattern—​square stockades with watchtowers at each corner, made of planks of iron-wood, which no native missile can penetrate, being bullet proof. The stockade is about twenty feet high, and between that and the roof, to give air and light, is a trellis-work made of the same iron-wood which divides an overhanging roof, made of wooden shingles, from the wooden walls. The shingles are made detachable to prevent fire when the enemy throw lighted brands on the roof.

Sibu Fort was then garrisoned by thirteen Sikhs, under the command of Mr. Skelton. These Sikhs were ci-devant Indian Sepoys, who had been exiled to Sarawak as punishment for the share they had taken in the Indian Mutiny. These men, although rebels, were amongst the lesser offenders in the Mutiny, and subsequently proved themselves to be valuable servants to the Sarawak Government. They were fierce, magnificent-looking beings, very tall, and smartly conspicuous, with great turbans twisted round their heads, black beards carefully tended, and moustaches with aggressively curled ends. There were also staying in the Fort two or three Dyak chiefs and a recently joined English cadet, Mr. Low, son of Sir Hugh Low, who was then Colonial Secretary in Labuan. A few poisoned arrows and barbed bamboo spears found their way through the trellis-work of the Fort, but no one was struck by these missiles. The party in the Fort made a brave resistance, and in a short time the rebels were repulsed and sent flying to their boats on the beach, leaving about a dozen dead and wounded companions under the wooden walls, Lintong’s son being amongst the slain.

The account which Mr. Skelton gave me when I saw him afterwards of the manner in which the friendly Dyak chiefs behaved during the skirmish amused me very much, for they did nothing but peer through the lattice-work, and shout Dyak insults at the attacking party, most of whom they knew very well. They made unpleasant remarks about the enemy’s mothers, and inquired whether the men themselves belonged to the female sex, as their efforts were so feeble, etc. It appears the noise was terrific, the attacking party yelling, shouting, and screaming whilst the battle lasted.

It was this serious state of things at Sibu that had called the Rajah away from Kuching a few days after my arrival in Sarawak. He gathered round him some seven thousand Dyaks belonging to friendly tribes, and with Mr. Skelton and one or two other English officers led an expedition up the Rejang River into the interior of the country, and reduced the enemy to subjection. He deemed it advisable to remain at Sibu for some weeks in order to restore peace and order in this part of his country. Meanwhile Lintong and his people were hiding in the head-waters of remote streams in the neighbourhood; and he and all his tribe became outcasts in the land. The Rajah’s object was to persuade these people to confess the error of their ways, own themselves vanquished, make peace, and build a new village on the main river under the surveillance of the Rajah’s neighbouring Forts. The Rajah’s policy on many similar occasions was always the same: when he had succeeded in crushing the head-hunting ambitions of these tribes, the thing then to be done was to turn these people into decent subjects by making them understand that the benefits to be derived from trade and commerce were more satisfactory to their well-being than their methods of murdering and cutting off the heads of their often harmless neighbours.

About a month or six weeks had elapsed since the Rajah’s departure from Kuching, when one morning a dispatch boat from the scene of action arrived at our landing-place with a letter from the Rajah, telling me that he would be back in two or three days. He wanted me to return with him to Sibu and stay for a month or so at the Fort. He mentioned that he was bringing one of the chiefs from the interior with him, because he thought it would interest me to see him and make his acquaintance.

I well remember the day of the Rajah’s return. I was interested in hearing all the details of the expedition, whilst I had much to tell him about my new women friends. I think he was amused, in the course of my story, at Malay expressions I let fall with great pride and a good deal of ostentation. At the end of my narrative—​and I must say I talked a good deal—​I was rewarded by his saying, “Why, you have become a real Malay!”

That evening, after dinner, he sent for Apai Minggat, the chief who had accompanied him to Kuching. We were sitting in the dining-room when this individual entered, a middle-aged Sea Dyak chieftain, who had often fought the Rajah’s battles by his side and saved his life on more than one occasion, for he was a famous warrior, with a considerable following of fighting men. He seemed to be treading on eggshells, his toes were turned out, and his body bent. A dingy handkerchief was twisted round his head, which was clean-shaven, with the exception of a lock of hair hanging at the back of his neck; this he had retained, like all Sea Dyaks, in a spirit of true courtesy, in case his head were taken by an enemy, when this lock would serve as a handle for them to carry his head by. He had on a waistcloth, and a dirty plaid covered his shoulders. He put out his hand from the folds of this garment to shake hands with the Rajah and with me.

I was anxious to hear a war yell, and I asked the Rajah to get him to give vent to one of these sounds of gratification heard when any heads are taken by Dyaks without loss to themselves. A curious falsetto sound issued from his lips. It went higher and higher, louder and louder, something between the crowing of a cock and the whistle of a steam-engine, and then it died down into a whisper. Two or three times he repeated this performance, which greatly interested me. It was not so terrible as I had imagined it must be, but the Rajah explained that when heard in a chorus of thousands of men, all yelling at once, as he had heard these sounds of victory after successful skirmishes against the pirates, it was a most terrifying experience, and froze the blood in one’s veins.

Mr. Harry Skelton had also returned with the Rajah, and was our guest at dinner: this over, I got up as custom demands, and left the Rajah and his friend at their claret and cigars; but, not wishing to sit by myself, I made signs to the chief and took him with me into the drawing-room. There I sat in one of the arm-chairs, with the old Dyak at my feet. He removed his head-handkerchief, rubbed his head, and gave vent to strange sounds and groans. I sent for Talip, fearing he was ill. Talip, however, informed me, “He say he bad head—​he wants gin.” I was rather shocked at this idea of Talip’s, and thought he was maligning the old man. When Talip had left the room, happening to have a scent bottle in my hand filled with eau-de-Cologne, I poured some on my fingers and rubbed it on poor Minggat’s head. This he seemed to enjoy, and made signs to me as though he found it soothing. The moment I left off, he signed to me to go on again, so on I went rubbing his head with eau-de-Cologne, and I remember that it smelt of cocoa-nut oil. Busily engaged as I was, I did not notice that the Rajah and Mr. Skelton had suddenly appeared in the room. I am sorry to say that the Rajah was not at all pleased at my token of sympathy with the old chief, and forthwith ordered him out of the room. “Poor old man,” I said to the Rajah, “he has a bad head. Why should I not rub it with eau-de-Cologne?” The Rajah, with right on his side, replied, “If you encourage them in this way, how can you expect me to keep them in order?” Mr. Skelton was much amused, but he told me privately that such tokens of sympathy from a Rajah’s wife, was not a very tactful way of behaving in an Oriental country.