[Contents]CHAPTER VI.THE WOUNDED GO TO KWALA KAPOEAS—THE MANTANGEI AND THE MENKATIP—THE COMMANDER IN PURSUIT—AT SEA—PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES—THE SCHOONER—THE RETURN—ON THE TRACK AT LAST—DEPARTURE FROM MANTANGEI—WHITE SAIL—FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE HEAD-HUNTERS—LA CUEILLE WOUNDED—A FUNERAL CEREMONY.Although the fugitives were again on their way, this was not the last they were to hear of the adventure. Several men had been wounded in the affray, and as the Dayaks were but indifferently acquainted with surgery, they resolved to take the sufferers to the fort and seek the assistance of the Dutch.There could be no vengeance taken for the blood which had been shed, as the strangers had departed, leaving no trace of the direction they were pursuing. The Chief of the kampong, fearing that the vengeful feelings of his people would involve him in serious difficulties with the Dutch, told his people that the boat which carried our fugitives had sailed up the soengei Mantangei, in order to reach the Doesson.When the wounded arrived at Kapoeas they were immediately attended to by the surgeon. Their wounds were found to be caused by bullets and wholly different in character from injuries inflicted by the mandauw or lance of the natives. This fact excited[86]the greatest astonishment and suspicion. The account furnished by the wounded men also gave grounds for serious reflection. They described the incident of the boa constrictor, and related how the men of kampong Mantangei had looked upon the deliverers of their wives as head-hunters; how this mistake had led to combat and how they were wounded and put to flight by a heavy rifle-fire. The information that their assailants were Dayak merchants who were working their way to the upper Doesson by means of the Mantangei was not credited by the Colonel; on the other hand neither did he suspect the presence of the deserters in that direction. Only the day before he had returned from a journey on the Javan sea in his efforts to recapture them. He had failed, but no doubt remained in his mind of his having been upon their track.On the morning following the desertion the Colonel had bestirred himself early. Long before sunrise he had visited the Chief of the district, Tomonggong Nikodemus Djaja Nagara. After taking some preliminary measures he had placed himself at the head of a large number of Dayaks, divided them into several canoes, and accompanied by the Tomonggong had taken his course seawards.Passing an islet in the Lesser Dayak river they encountered the canoe which had been so terribly injured by the shots from the fortress the night before. As, however, its crew were not in the secret of the deserters no information could be gained from them. They could only show their dead and wounded and explain how the canoe carrying the coffin had disappeared in the dark down the stream. They had been terribly frightened and even now had not lost all fear. After a long palaver, however, they were[87]convinced of their present safety and assured that they might carry their wounded to the fortress to have them surgically attended to.Every creek, every soengei was examined, the islets thoroughly scoured, but nothing of a suspicious nature was found. The Colonel, on nearing the mouth of the Troessan, proposed to despatch part of his men through that canal with orders to rejoin him again at the mouth of the Kahajan. Had this order been executed our fugitives would have been caught. But before the division of the men had been definitely made, a canoe appeared at the mouth of the Troessan carrying the Chief of that district, a trustworthy subject, who declared that he had not met with a single canoe. It was therefore clear that the fugitives could not have escaped that way. The voyage was continued to the mouth of the Lesser Dayak. Their search in creeks and branches involved such loss of time that it was late in the afternoon before they reached the Javan sea.The Colonel now carefully scanned the horizon and saw two cruisers lying at anchor. On the south-west a prauw was working against the wind, but as soon as it perceived the little fleet it spread all canvas and tried to get away with all speed. This strengthened the Colonel’s belief that the fugitives were on board of that prauw. Even the Tomonggong declared that its appearance was not unlike that of the prauw which had borne the cholera-stricken corpse. As to who the oarsmen were he could form no conception. He knew the fear entertained by his people of this terrible malady and this fact augmented his uncertainty.The Colonel ordered a few shots to be fired in order to attract[88]the attention of the cruisers and displayed the national colors from his stern. Their respective commanders seemed to understand what they were required to do. They immediately weighed their anchors and made sail towards his little fleet.The Colonel went on board one of them and ordered all sails to be set. He also directed that three blank shots should be fired as a signal for the prauw to lay to. But instead of obeying, the boat made more sail and brought as many oars into play as possible. When first observed it had appeared to carry about four oars, but now that it was in flight it seemed to be crowded with men.The Colonel ordered the gunners to load, determined to show that he was in earnest. But the three-pound shells only rebounded on the water and burst with loud reports; the distance was too great. The number of men on board excited the suspicion of the Tomonggong also, but he declared that it could not possibly be the canoe of the fugitives and that they were on a false track. If that canoe had been manned at Kwala Kapoeas with so many oarsmen it could not have remained a secret to him, the Chief of the district.At last the Colonel decided to despatch one of the cruisers in pursuit of the fugitive boat, while the other was to remain behind to assist him in examining the coast.While giving his orders a cry was heard from one of the surrounding canoes that it had a box in tow. This box proved to be the coffin of the cholera patient which had been brought forth for burial on the previous evening. One of the Dayaks recognized the body, while another pretended to have himself made[89]the coffin. The Colonel and the Tomonggong looked at each other; both measured the distance between the fugitive prauw and the mouth of the river, and as the coffin had been found near the line between these two points all doubt was removed. Even the Dayak chief now concluded that the coffin had been thrown overboard from that suspicious prauw, which must consequently contain the fugitives.“Forward, forward!” was now in order.All that day the pursued prauw kept its distance, now losing a little, then regaining the loss. Towards evening the south-monsoon began to drop and as is usual in those latitudes the land wind arose. The wind blew from south-east to east by north and a thick mass of clouds darkened the sky. Both cruisers, although in violation of the existing rules, carried their lights and every boat of the Dayak flotilla was also provided with a lamp. No lights however were visible from the fugitive, and it was therefore impossible to keep it in view. Nevertheless the combined fleets pursued their course west south-west during the night, to find next morning that the prauw was only visible as a dim black spot on the southern horizon. It had simply changed its course in the darkness of the night, so as not to be too near Cape Salatan.By this manœuvre it would be enabled as soon as the wind should blow again from the south-east, to run before it.The Dutch cruisers endeavored to regain the lost distance in the lull which generally prevails during the first hours of the morning, and as soon as the monsoon reappeared at eight they set all sail; but the result was the same as on the previous day.[90]About two in the afternoon a large schooner appeared on the horizon. This vessel, observing the pursued prauw, showed the Dutch colors reversed, fired a shot, and manœuvred to take the prauw in tow. This she speedily accomplished, then lying to the wind she fired another shot, the charge of which flew over the first of the cruisers, but struck the mast of the other and sent it flying overboard. Considering the distance, the result of this shot proved that she was armed with grooved guns. The Colonel, enraged at the insult of the flag and at the shot, determined to continue his pursuit; but the schooner was too fast a sailer, and within an hour she had disappeared from view.They then began to think of the return journey. Tomonggong pointed towards the horizon and declared that the faint glimpse of land towards the north was cape Poeding and the one a little higher up to the west cape Kramat. The Colonel consulted his map and his face darkened.“From this point we have to make about thirty-six miles against the wind. A terrible affair; the deuce take them!” he exclaimed.Giving his orders he arranged that the two cruisers should remain together, while the dismasted one should be towed as far as the Lesser Dayak river by six canoes. Once there, she would be able to manage with her oars. This settled, the Colonel, accompanied by the Tomonggong, went on board of one of the fastest boats of the fleet, manned her with sixty picked oarsmen, and hurried on in order to regain his post at Kwala Kapoeas, which he reached late at night after an absence of four days.He was welcomed on his arrival by the doctor who was surprised[91]at not seeing the fugitives return with him. His look of enquiry was answered by the Colonel with the words,“Gone, and forever! I saw them disappear on board of an armed schooner. But how could they have put themselves in communication with her? The more I think it over, the less can I make it out.”He related his experiences, the sighting of the canoes, the finding of the body, the pursuit, the fatal shot from the schooner and her reversed flag, and concluded with,“It is a mystery to me.”“What kind of vessel was that schooner?” the doctor asked.“How should I know? She carried European gear and I am positive that she was armed with steel-bored guns. Perhaps she was one of those British smugglers from the straits of Malacca which drive an impudent trade in contraband opium and war ammunition. However, I am going to make my report. By-the-bye, did you send off my former one during my absence?”“The postal canoe left while you were yet in sight.”“Good; we may receive an answer to-day.”Inwardly, the doctor was glad of the escape of the deserters; but his joy would have visibly evaporated could he only have known where they were at that moment.The day following the return of the Colonel the report was spread in the kampong at Kwala Kapoeas that Dalim and two other Dayaks, who were all three under the supervision of the police, had been seen at soengei Naning. Nobody knew that they had served as oarsmen to the funeral canoe and when the Colonel spoke of their absence to the Chief of the district he confirmed[92]the statement that three Dayaks had disappeared. The Chief also related the whole history of the crocodile hunt at Poeloe Kanamit and declared that he had already sent out trustworthy messengers to bring those men back again. On the Colonel’s enquiry whether there was any connection between the disappearance of these fellows and the desertion of the four Europeans, the Tomonggong laughed good-naturedly.“Impossible, sir! You saw the palefaces go on board that schooner with your own eyes. What business could they have with these Dayaks, who perhaps have been taking a holiday to soengei Naning? You know that Dalim’s brother lives there.”The Colonel shook his head, but remained silent.When however two days afterwards the wounded from soengei Mantangei were brought in and with Eastern exaggeration talked about the rifle-fire as if a hundred men had been engaged—when too, the doctor imprudently declared that he was unable to say whether or not the wounds were inflicted by round bullets, but rather thought that they looked more like wounds torn by explosive balls, the Colonel began to reflect. He desired the Chief of the district to appear, talked the matter over with him and finally ordered him to keep thirty Dayaks ready. He also bade him send the Chief of the kampong, Damboeng Papoendeh, to the fort to receive further instructions.On leaving the fort the old Tomonggong met the doctor.“It is all over with them now,” he said. “Their track is clear.”“But, Tomonggong, how is it possible that these Europeans could have fought in soengei Mantangei?”[93]“I cannot explain the possibility, sir, but I will swear that it was they.”“Take care,” the doctor laughed, “the palefaces punish false oaths heavily.”“I am quite at ease. None such devils are found in the whole of Dayak country. First, that crocodile hunt; then the fight with a boa; afterwards the heavy fire into the boats of the approaching inhabitants of the kampong. Nobody here carries such weapons. I will lay you any wager that the repeating rifles of the Colonel have played their part in all these scenes.”“Did you tell the Colonel?”“Not yet; he is too much taken up with the notion that the palefaces are on board that schooner. The finding of that coffin is a positive proof to him that they have chosen that direction.”“And do you not think so, Tomonggong?”“I did think so once, sir, but not now. According to my view the fugitives have gone higher up. If the Colonel would only listen to me we should be on their track already.”“What does he intend to do?”“To let Damboeng Papoendeh find out first what was their object in going to soengei Mantangei. But by the time he will have obtained positive reports these men will be too far away.”“Let them go, Tomonggong, let them go.”“It is all very well for you to say that; but if we do not follow them now, they will either fall a prey to the head-hunters of the upper regions, or will settle amongst the Ot Danoms and render their capture more difficult for my own people. In either case much unnecessary blood will be spilt. I will return to-night and[94]hope to find the Colonel in a better mood for listening to my proposals.”“But could you not wait a day or two? For instance, until we receive further information?”“My gratitude towards you, sir, begins to oppress me. I owe you the life of my child, but the lives of many human beings are now involved.”“I beseech you, have a little more patience.”“Be it so! But be sure that this is the last time that I will do anything for these fugitives. I feel that I am acting wrongly and that if I had not listened to you from the beginning we should have been saved all this trouble.”A few hours afterwards three canoes, well manned and fully armed, sailed up the Kapoeas. They were under the command of Damboeng Papoendeh, a young Dayak chief eager to gain his first spurs under the Dutch flag. When the Colonel informed him that the canoe which had given battle to the people of soengei Mantangei had sailed toward the Doesson, he smiled and said that he fully understood how to act.A few minutes later the doctor tried to speak to him alone, but the Dayak repelled all advances and proudly stated that “he had pledged himself to bring back the fugitives, dead or alive.”The post arrived at Kwala Kapoeas next day and brought a recommendation to the Colonel not to leave any means untried to recapture the deserters.“But what are you to do?” asked the doctor, who as usual was spending the evening with the Colonel and had witnessed the opening of the official letters.[95]“What am I to do? For my part, the deserters may get clean off. I will have nothing more to do with the matter. I have already exceeded my duty as military commander. It is not my fault that these cruising boats are so slow and can’t get along.”While giving vent to his feelings the Colonel had almost mechanically opened the other letters and skimmed over their contents. Most of them were of an administrative nature and of little material importance. But the one which he now held in his hand seemed to rivet his whole attention. It was a communication from the Resident, that a schooner carrying reversed Dutch colors and laden with salt, opium, gunpowder and leaden and iron bullets had been captured by His Majesty’s steamer Montrado, in the neighborhood of Poeloe Mangkop, south of cape Batoe Titi. Most of the men had been killed during the fight. One European only, seemingly an Englishman, appeared to have been on board. The commanders of all stations along the coast were therefore advised to be on the lookout, as similar attempts at landing contraband stores might be expected.“By the saints! it must have been that infernal schooner,” the Colonel burst out. “And the deserters were not on board after all! Where else can they be? Have we been following the wrong track? But how can we account for that coffin in the Javan sea? It is above my comprehension altogether. Old Tomonggong may be right after all that it was they who caused that fracas in the soengei Mantangei. But how did they get there?”His excitement now became very great and he despatched a messenger to the district chief, ordering him to be present at the[96]fort on the following morning with fifty oarsmen to accompany him to soengei Mantangei.The fugitives continued their journey from soengei Mantangei during the night. They had now been fully seven days on their travels. The country around gradually lost its alluvial appearance, and although the elevation of the soil was not yet very important and our adventurers could still clearly distinguish in the current of the river the regular and marked appearance of ebb and flood, the riwoet haroesan, breath of the stream, had totally ceased. The highest tide never brought the sea so far up and its waters were here free from all brackishness.About three o’clock in the afternoon the travellers reached a spot called petak bapoeti, white sail, by the natives. This consisted of a range of hills about forty feet high, formed of bluish-white sand, mingled with numerous shells of a different kind from those in the clay mud met with round the south coast of Borneo. In support of the hypothesis that once upon a time this must have been the southern coast of the island, similar hill formations are found at about the same distance from the mouths of the Doesson, Kahajan and Mantawei rivers.To stretch their limbs awhile on this white sand was a welcome relaxation to our Europeans, for to sit for days cross-legged in a canoe is exceedingly fatiguing to a person not accustomed to it. They therefore moved about freely, occupying themselves in gathering some dark red berries, not unlike our blackberries, which grew abundantly here and which supplied an agreeable relish to their monotonous meals.After they had walked an hour or two Dalim gave the signal[97]for departure, telling them that where they were such multitudes of mosquitoes swarmed about at night that despite the use of any quantity of “brotoali” sleep would be impossible. According to him it was the spot where most of the mosquitoes of the island congregated; for which he accounted by relating the following legend:“The son of Sultan Koening, the Djata—or Crocodile—King of the Batang Moeroeng, was going to be married to the daughter of Anding Maling Goena, the Crocodile King of the Kapoeas River. The marriage was to be solemnized at this spot; and the fishes, water-snakes, shrimps, frogs and other inhabitants of the stream assembled to increase the pomp of the ceremony. They brought with them some hundreds of pounds of mosquitoes as the best present they could give the young married couple in token of their affection. The present was graciously accepted; and the descendants of those mosquitoes in a most disagreeable manner impress the memory of that marriage gift upon any traveller whose ill-luck carries him thither to spend the night.”“A queer present,” La Cueille remarked, “only a Dayak could suggest such a wedding gift.”“I heard Dalim speak of the island Kalimantan,” said Wienersdorf. “Which island is that?”Johannes hereupon told him that Kalimantan was the name given by the natives to Borneo, and that the European name, derived from the word Broenai, simply indicates a small division of the island situated on the north-western coast.“Does the word Kalimantan mean anything at all?”“Kalimantawa is the Dayak name of the dorian or jack-fruit[98]of Borneo, the shape of the island being similar to that of the fruit, which probably led to the adoption of the name.”“That is quite impossible,” Wienersdorf rejoined. “Borneo is one of the largest islands of the world, and to define the shape of so large an island one requires a certain amount of knowledge which no people of the Indian Archipelago are likely to possess.”Dalim hereupon bent over to Johannes and whispered something in his ear.“You may be right,” the latter observed. “Dalim has just suggested Kalliintan, river of diamonds. That may be the true origin of the name, asintanmeans diamond.”In discourse of a similar nature time was materially shortened and our travellers soon reached kotta Towanan. This was a Dayak fortification, such as is frequently found all over the inner regions of Borneo. It consisted of a long square redoubt without projections; its parapets were made of strong wooden piles of vast size, and was ornamented here and there with life-size wooden images representing Dayak warriors in every possible attitude of war.Approaching nearer, but still covered by the last projecting bank, Dalim advised that the kotta should be reconnoitred in order to ascertain that it was not occupied by river pirates and head-hunters. A party accompanied by Schlickeisen and La Cueille landed and penetrated into the wood. They soon returned, however, and reported that they had found nothing of a suspicious nature.At first they proposed to pass the night in the kotta and enjoy sleep on terra firma again; but after Wienersdorf had made a[99]careful survey, he remarked that both in the front and rear of the fort there were large apertures, which would require to be guarded. It would also be necessary to keep strict watch over their canoe, which contained all their riches. The efficient defence of these several positions would certainly be too much for their small number of men, none of whom had yet enjoyed a good night’s rest. They therefore resolved to remain in their boat, and by setting one man to do duty as sentry enable the others to enjoy undisturbed repose. Evening had closed in and the Dayaks took the first watch, the Europeans arranging to succeed and relieve them later in the night.But man proposes and God disposes. Their rest was fated to be disturbed.It might have been about nine o’clock in the evening; the Europeans had enveloped themselves in their blankets and were already snoring. The three Dayaks were sitting together in conversation, when Dalim made the remark that their supply of wood was insufficient to keep such a fire burning as would be necessary to command a thorough survey of the territory. He ordered one of his mates to supply this want and pointed out to him a heap of dry branches which he had noticed during his examination of the fort some hours before. The Dayak made no demur whatever but proceeded on his errand. His friends saw him land and disappear through one of the apertures of the fort; when suddenly a heart-rending cry was heard which summoned the watchers as well as the Europeans to their feet. Wienersdorf and La Cueille were among the first to seize their rifles and leap on shore; Dalim followed them closely, while the others kept a[100]sharp lookout, their rifles presented and their fingers on the trigger.Dalim and his mates carefully entered the fort, but Wienersdorf suddenly stumbled over something, fell, and uttered a cry of horror. Dalim who was behind him hastened to his aid. He bore a lighted torch in his hand, by the faint glimmer of which they perceived the headless corpse of their native companion. The body had been decapitated after the Dayak fashion, the head having been severed from it at one blow.As a rule, this decapitation is performed so suddenly that the victims enter into eternity before they are aware of their impending fate. In this case, however, the Dayak seemed to have realized his situation during his last moments, as was proved by the cry he had uttered. He seemed also to have clutched his assailant with his left hand, because there was the fragment of ewah in his grasp, while his right hand still held his mandauw. La Cueille perceived something lying on the grass not far from the dead Dayak; he stooped and seized it, only to give utterance to a cry of horror and dismay. Powerless to relinquish what he held in his hand he raised it up. It was the head of their companion, its eyes rolling and its jaw and lips moving in their last agonies, as if they were trying to find utterance. At this horrible sight Dalim cried out terrified as he moved backward,“Quick, back!”He had scarcely uttered these words when a whistling sound was heard and La Cueille with a true Walloon curse cried out that he was wounded. He shouldered his rifle without loosing his grip of the head; but Dalim took him by the arm and hurried[101]him toward the canoe, while Wienersdorf covered the retreat, discharging the Remington into the surrounding obscurity. Upon nearing the light diffused by the boat’s fire, La Cueille thought he saw something move in the bush which skirted the palisade of the fortifications. He tore himself away from Dalim, threw the yet bleeding head into the canoe, and discharged his rifle in the direction of the shrubs. The shot was quickly answered with a defiant lēēēēh, lèlèlèlèlè, ouiiiit, and at the same time some figures emerged from the darkness into the illuminated circle. Now, however, came Johannes and Schlickeisen’s turn to interpose their aid. They had remained in the canoe, awaiting a favorable opportunity for action. Schlickeisen was armed with the other Remington rifle; Wienersdorf and the Walloon took their position near the canoe, and a rifle-fire was kept up which put the assailing Dayaks to rout. The first two shots fired by the Europeans from the canoe seemed almost sufficient, for these being delivered with a cool and steady aim two of their assailants were instantly hors de combat; the others soon fled.Nothing further could be seen ashore; our adventurers therefore ceased firing and took time to recover themselves. La Cueille complained of pain in his arm, upon which Wienersdorf examined it and found that the Walloon had been wounded by a poisoned arrow. They all looked at each other dejectedly, for they had learned enough of arrow poison to be aware of its terrible consequences. Dalim took a handful of salt which he rubbed into the gums of the patient until a profuse salivation was produced. He was proceeding to rub it into the wound itself when Wienersdorf[102]pushed him aside, and opening his pocket knife made a deep crucial incision over the small wound. He then produced a bottle of liquid ammonia and poured a few drops of the alkali into the cut.The Walloon roared with pain, writhing terribly and mingling many forcible expletives with constant repetitions of, “Sainte Vierge, priez pour moi!”Although the situation was grave indeed, Johannes could not refrain from pointing out to La Cueille how soon he had forgotten his part of an Arab and strongly advised him to mutter a devout, “Lā ilāha illa llāhoe,” instead of invoking the Holy Virgin. The Walloon, though greatly incensed against his brown comrade, was in too much pain to give vent to his feelings. At length after many sighs and lamentations he fell into a deep slumber, which Dalim considered a favorable symptom.It was clear that the others must not think of going to sleep. They knew that the enemy was in their immediate neighborhood. They therefore remained, rifle in hand, watching the banks from under the roof of their canoe in order to be prepared for a renewed attack. All remained quiet for a considerable time. Suddenly they heard from behind them on the river the well known but formidable lēēēēh lèlèlèlèlè ouiiiit! and a hail of small arrows dropped amongst them over the canoe and under the roof. Upon turning round sharply, they had just time to see a boat shoot by inmid-stream, its occupants continuing their cry of defiance. They thereupon discharged a few shots which seemed to be well aimed, for the war cry suddenly ceased and gave way to shrieks of pain. These continued to be heard for a considerable time in[103]the stillness of the night, but they gradually grew fainter until at last they were lost in the distance.La Cueille on first hearing the war cry and the ensuing noise of the firing had jumped up from his sleep in a great fright. Feeling about for some weapon he had seized hold of the head which a few hours ago he himself had thrown into the canoe, but had quite forgotten. Being still under the influence of the late tragedy his horror was extreme, and he at once concluded that the head-hunters were on board and busily engaged in their bloody work among his companions. Fortunately there was no weapon near, else in the intense darkness he might have wrought sad havoc among his friends. In his heedless passion of self-preservation he grasped Johannes by the neck and tried to strangle him, when the latter becoming enraged, dealt him a few smart blows in return, saying, “This diabolical Walloon means to throttle me; I believe he is mad.”They all fancied he was suffering from a sudden fit of mania caused by the arrow poison; but when the Walloon told them how on awakening he had taken hold of the head, they burst into hearty laughter and congratulated the pseudo head-hunter on the spoil he had secured.“We will dissect and clean it nicely for you,” said Johannes, “and you may take it with you to Jupille. It will be quite a treasure to you, and the Walloon ladies will almost besiege you when you tell them that Dayak fashion you are able to lay a skull at the feet of your lady love.”They all laughed at this suggestion except La Cueille himself,[104]who had not yet wholly recovered from his fright. A good draught from the toeak bottle soon restored him.After such stirring events sleep was an impossibility, although Dalim assured his companions they had nothing more to apprehend. It was, however, resolved to continue watching until the sun should appear in the heavens.“We are getting on,” Schlickeisen observed; “our little force has suffered one death and two wounded. If things continue at this rate, by the time we reach the upper country few of us will be left to tell the story of our adventures.”“Ah, bah! Did you think to escape without even a scratch?” Johannes asked. “If only half of us reach the Chinese sea we may think ourselves lucky indeed. In real fact no one of us is safe.”“Your predictions are certainly far from reassuring,” Wienersdorf said.“He is always prophesying something horrible,” La Cueille muttered. “This ugly fellow tries to make our lives more insupportable than they already are.”“You will have to take life as it comes, and to face its trials fearlessly. Our position, however, is not quite so bad after all; we certainly have to lament the loss of one of our companions, but fortunately no one of us four has fallen yet. Wienersdorf’s wound received from the boa has nearly healed, and since La Cueille is not quite dead yet we may laugh at his pin pricks. What a noise our Walloon made about it, did he not?” Johannes laughingly remarked.“Since I am not dead yet you may enjoy your fun,” La Cueille said. “But was I really in danger?”[105]“I did not entertain much hope for your life when I saw that arrow. Those weapons usually act very rapidly indeed. First, you are taken with a shivering fit, then your teeth begin to rattle, you talk at random and with the vehemence of a drunkard; and then all is over within half an hour. Since you have survived all these symptoms you may consider yourself out of danger.”The Walloon gave a sigh of relief.“But Wienersdorf will have to be careful of that bottle of nasty smelling liquid,” Johannes continued, “he has done wonders with it indeed.”“Dalim swears that his salt saved La Cueille.”“Not a bit of it,” Johannes replied. “I have watched the Colonel at Kwala Kapoeas in his experiments with arrow poisons on dogs, monkeys and fowls. The salt antidote always failed; the poor animals invariably died after it, while those treated by the application of the foul smelling liquid were all cured.”Wienersdorf was sitting, lost in thought, supporting his head with his hand. “It is still a riddle to me,” he said at last, “how those men came to leave a head behind them on the ground. I always thought that the head-hunter seized his victim by the hair before giving the fatal blow.”“That is what I also cannot make out,” the Dayak assured him. “As a rule the grasping of the hair and the blow itself take place so rapidly that the victim has no time to utter a cry. Some instances of rapidity have been recorded where the victims actually make a few steps onward waving their arms about after decapitation. The Dayak boys of the upper regions regularly cultivate head-hunting as a fine art. They first place a cocoanut[106]on the top of a thin post and practice until they are able to cut the post clean through just under the point where the nut rests upon it without injuring the latter. Later on, as they advance in years and their strength increases, the post is replaced by an effigy of a large boy, the neck of which is made of a piece of soft but elastic wood, and in order to complete the illusion they adorn the nut with a wig formed of the fibres of the arengpalm, which, when properly made, strongly resembles the thin hair of the natives. Hence their great dexterity.”“To which I can add,” Johannes continued, “that the Dayaks of the lower country are just as great experts in the handling of their mandauws. I have witnessed at Kwala Kapoeas how, in the presence of the Colonel, any Dayak, however weak in appearance, could without visible effort divide in halves at a single blow a ripe green cocoanut, while none of the Europeans could manage to penetrate beyond the fibre.”“It seems a curious custom to offer one’s lady-love these human heads,” Schlickeisen continued.“Quite so; but yet it has a meaning,” Johannes answered. “Formerly it must have been a proof of his valor given by the bridegroom to his bride, to demonstrate that he was capable of protecting his wife and children. What better guarantee than the head of one of his enemies killed by his own hand could be offered by a primitive community? This custom afterwards became degraded by turning skulls into an article of luxury or of established traffic. Thus an institution originating in the best intentions became the curse of the whole population.”[107]“But these atrocities cannot be practiced in the lower country, can they?” Wienersdorf asked of Dalim.“The Dutch will not allow them,” the latter replied.“So that you only abandon the practice because it is prohibited. Don’t you consider head-hunting an abominable occupation?”“Who can say? Perhaps according to my views it is not,” was the phlegmatic reply, proving that the perception of its horror had not greatly impressed him.While they were conversing in this strain the night crept on and day at last reappeared, to the great delight of our travellers.They examined the kotta carefully and found nothing but the decapitated body of their late companion. A small pool of blood was discovered at a little distance from it, while at one of the openings in the palisades some bloody finger-marks appeared on the wood-work. They therefore concluded that the enemy had also suffered loss, although to the utter disappointment of the Swiss no bodies could be found.“Do you think those blackguards got off scot free?” Schlickeisen asked earnestly.“Certainly not,” Johannes answered, “for I could follow traces of blood as far as the river, where they took to their rangkan. We shall have to examine the ground more thoroughly. But you must not forget that the natives of the Dutch Indies consider it the greatest disgrace to leave the bodies of their fallen brethren behind.”After having examined the kotta the deserters passed outside through one of the openings to scour the neighborhood. In[108]their explorations they reached a spot the long grass of which was trodden down. When Schlickeisen had cut a way through the thick creepers and bushes he found two bodies dressed in full war costume, with their coats of mail made of rattan chain and caps of monkey skin on their heads, their shields in their left hands and their naked mandauws in their right. According to Dalim they were Poenans, a Dayak tribe belonging to the interior of Borneo, near the sources of the Kahajan-Doesson and Kotei rivers. Both of these men must have destroyed many victims judging by the tufts of human hair which ornamented the blades and handles of their mandauws. They were young men still, and yet Dalim averred that one of them had killed four and the other seven people, facts which were proved by the number of red rattan rings round the sheaths of their mandauws.The weapons and coats of mail of the dead were appropriated by the two Dayaks, and their bodies were then thrown into the river as an offering to Djata, the Chief of the Crocodiles. Their own fallen companion they washed carefully and painted his forehead and nails, after which they and the Europeans dug a grave and buried him, putting his head in position above his trunk. They placed a mandauw in his hand and deposited his lance beside him in the grave. Each of them then strewed a handful of raw rice over the body, saying,“Djetoh akam,” (this is for you).They then strewed a second handful saying, “This we send to our forefathers,” and finally a third one with the words, “This is for so and so”—mentioning the names of some relations who had recently died.[109]This ceremony of strewing rice is never omitted at funerals.After this the Dayak companions of the dead man uttered a piercing shriek called tatoem, the lament for the dead, and then proceeded to close the grave. In order to secure the body from being interfered with, they had chosen a spot in the midst of thick herbage and had carefully cut the sods and put them aside without breaking them. They then collected the excavated earth upon a large sheet, taking care not to drop a single handful. In filling the grave they tramped the earth down as firmly as possible, planted a few short shrubs and then replaced the sods so carefully that the most searching eye could not discover where they had been divided by the spade. The remainder of the superfluous earth was carefully carried to the river, into which it was thrown, and the grave was copiously watered so as to preserve the sods and plants from withering.When all was finished the fugitives took to their canoes again, threw out their oars, and left the spot which had nearly been their last resting-place.[110]
[Contents]CHAPTER VI.THE WOUNDED GO TO KWALA KAPOEAS—THE MANTANGEI AND THE MENKATIP—THE COMMANDER IN PURSUIT—AT SEA—PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES—THE SCHOONER—THE RETURN—ON THE TRACK AT LAST—DEPARTURE FROM MANTANGEI—WHITE SAIL—FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE HEAD-HUNTERS—LA CUEILLE WOUNDED—A FUNERAL CEREMONY.Although the fugitives were again on their way, this was not the last they were to hear of the adventure. Several men had been wounded in the affray, and as the Dayaks were but indifferently acquainted with surgery, they resolved to take the sufferers to the fort and seek the assistance of the Dutch.There could be no vengeance taken for the blood which had been shed, as the strangers had departed, leaving no trace of the direction they were pursuing. The Chief of the kampong, fearing that the vengeful feelings of his people would involve him in serious difficulties with the Dutch, told his people that the boat which carried our fugitives had sailed up the soengei Mantangei, in order to reach the Doesson.When the wounded arrived at Kapoeas they were immediately attended to by the surgeon. Their wounds were found to be caused by bullets and wholly different in character from injuries inflicted by the mandauw or lance of the natives. This fact excited[86]the greatest astonishment and suspicion. The account furnished by the wounded men also gave grounds for serious reflection. They described the incident of the boa constrictor, and related how the men of kampong Mantangei had looked upon the deliverers of their wives as head-hunters; how this mistake had led to combat and how they were wounded and put to flight by a heavy rifle-fire. The information that their assailants were Dayak merchants who were working their way to the upper Doesson by means of the Mantangei was not credited by the Colonel; on the other hand neither did he suspect the presence of the deserters in that direction. Only the day before he had returned from a journey on the Javan sea in his efforts to recapture them. He had failed, but no doubt remained in his mind of his having been upon their track.On the morning following the desertion the Colonel had bestirred himself early. Long before sunrise he had visited the Chief of the district, Tomonggong Nikodemus Djaja Nagara. After taking some preliminary measures he had placed himself at the head of a large number of Dayaks, divided them into several canoes, and accompanied by the Tomonggong had taken his course seawards.Passing an islet in the Lesser Dayak river they encountered the canoe which had been so terribly injured by the shots from the fortress the night before. As, however, its crew were not in the secret of the deserters no information could be gained from them. They could only show their dead and wounded and explain how the canoe carrying the coffin had disappeared in the dark down the stream. They had been terribly frightened and even now had not lost all fear. After a long palaver, however, they were[87]convinced of their present safety and assured that they might carry their wounded to the fortress to have them surgically attended to.Every creek, every soengei was examined, the islets thoroughly scoured, but nothing of a suspicious nature was found. The Colonel, on nearing the mouth of the Troessan, proposed to despatch part of his men through that canal with orders to rejoin him again at the mouth of the Kahajan. Had this order been executed our fugitives would have been caught. But before the division of the men had been definitely made, a canoe appeared at the mouth of the Troessan carrying the Chief of that district, a trustworthy subject, who declared that he had not met with a single canoe. It was therefore clear that the fugitives could not have escaped that way. The voyage was continued to the mouth of the Lesser Dayak. Their search in creeks and branches involved such loss of time that it was late in the afternoon before they reached the Javan sea.The Colonel now carefully scanned the horizon and saw two cruisers lying at anchor. On the south-west a prauw was working against the wind, but as soon as it perceived the little fleet it spread all canvas and tried to get away with all speed. This strengthened the Colonel’s belief that the fugitives were on board of that prauw. Even the Tomonggong declared that its appearance was not unlike that of the prauw which had borne the cholera-stricken corpse. As to who the oarsmen were he could form no conception. He knew the fear entertained by his people of this terrible malady and this fact augmented his uncertainty.The Colonel ordered a few shots to be fired in order to attract[88]the attention of the cruisers and displayed the national colors from his stern. Their respective commanders seemed to understand what they were required to do. They immediately weighed their anchors and made sail towards his little fleet.The Colonel went on board one of them and ordered all sails to be set. He also directed that three blank shots should be fired as a signal for the prauw to lay to. But instead of obeying, the boat made more sail and brought as many oars into play as possible. When first observed it had appeared to carry about four oars, but now that it was in flight it seemed to be crowded with men.The Colonel ordered the gunners to load, determined to show that he was in earnest. But the three-pound shells only rebounded on the water and burst with loud reports; the distance was too great. The number of men on board excited the suspicion of the Tomonggong also, but he declared that it could not possibly be the canoe of the fugitives and that they were on a false track. If that canoe had been manned at Kwala Kapoeas with so many oarsmen it could not have remained a secret to him, the Chief of the district.At last the Colonel decided to despatch one of the cruisers in pursuit of the fugitive boat, while the other was to remain behind to assist him in examining the coast.While giving his orders a cry was heard from one of the surrounding canoes that it had a box in tow. This box proved to be the coffin of the cholera patient which had been brought forth for burial on the previous evening. One of the Dayaks recognized the body, while another pretended to have himself made[89]the coffin. The Colonel and the Tomonggong looked at each other; both measured the distance between the fugitive prauw and the mouth of the river, and as the coffin had been found near the line between these two points all doubt was removed. Even the Dayak chief now concluded that the coffin had been thrown overboard from that suspicious prauw, which must consequently contain the fugitives.“Forward, forward!” was now in order.All that day the pursued prauw kept its distance, now losing a little, then regaining the loss. Towards evening the south-monsoon began to drop and as is usual in those latitudes the land wind arose. The wind blew from south-east to east by north and a thick mass of clouds darkened the sky. Both cruisers, although in violation of the existing rules, carried their lights and every boat of the Dayak flotilla was also provided with a lamp. No lights however were visible from the fugitive, and it was therefore impossible to keep it in view. Nevertheless the combined fleets pursued their course west south-west during the night, to find next morning that the prauw was only visible as a dim black spot on the southern horizon. It had simply changed its course in the darkness of the night, so as not to be too near Cape Salatan.By this manœuvre it would be enabled as soon as the wind should blow again from the south-east, to run before it.The Dutch cruisers endeavored to regain the lost distance in the lull which generally prevails during the first hours of the morning, and as soon as the monsoon reappeared at eight they set all sail; but the result was the same as on the previous day.[90]About two in the afternoon a large schooner appeared on the horizon. This vessel, observing the pursued prauw, showed the Dutch colors reversed, fired a shot, and manœuvred to take the prauw in tow. This she speedily accomplished, then lying to the wind she fired another shot, the charge of which flew over the first of the cruisers, but struck the mast of the other and sent it flying overboard. Considering the distance, the result of this shot proved that she was armed with grooved guns. The Colonel, enraged at the insult of the flag and at the shot, determined to continue his pursuit; but the schooner was too fast a sailer, and within an hour she had disappeared from view.They then began to think of the return journey. Tomonggong pointed towards the horizon and declared that the faint glimpse of land towards the north was cape Poeding and the one a little higher up to the west cape Kramat. The Colonel consulted his map and his face darkened.“From this point we have to make about thirty-six miles against the wind. A terrible affair; the deuce take them!” he exclaimed.Giving his orders he arranged that the two cruisers should remain together, while the dismasted one should be towed as far as the Lesser Dayak river by six canoes. Once there, she would be able to manage with her oars. This settled, the Colonel, accompanied by the Tomonggong, went on board of one of the fastest boats of the fleet, manned her with sixty picked oarsmen, and hurried on in order to regain his post at Kwala Kapoeas, which he reached late at night after an absence of four days.He was welcomed on his arrival by the doctor who was surprised[91]at not seeing the fugitives return with him. His look of enquiry was answered by the Colonel with the words,“Gone, and forever! I saw them disappear on board of an armed schooner. But how could they have put themselves in communication with her? The more I think it over, the less can I make it out.”He related his experiences, the sighting of the canoes, the finding of the body, the pursuit, the fatal shot from the schooner and her reversed flag, and concluded with,“It is a mystery to me.”“What kind of vessel was that schooner?” the doctor asked.“How should I know? She carried European gear and I am positive that she was armed with steel-bored guns. Perhaps she was one of those British smugglers from the straits of Malacca which drive an impudent trade in contraband opium and war ammunition. However, I am going to make my report. By-the-bye, did you send off my former one during my absence?”“The postal canoe left while you were yet in sight.”“Good; we may receive an answer to-day.”Inwardly, the doctor was glad of the escape of the deserters; but his joy would have visibly evaporated could he only have known where they were at that moment.The day following the return of the Colonel the report was spread in the kampong at Kwala Kapoeas that Dalim and two other Dayaks, who were all three under the supervision of the police, had been seen at soengei Naning. Nobody knew that they had served as oarsmen to the funeral canoe and when the Colonel spoke of their absence to the Chief of the district he confirmed[92]the statement that three Dayaks had disappeared. The Chief also related the whole history of the crocodile hunt at Poeloe Kanamit and declared that he had already sent out trustworthy messengers to bring those men back again. On the Colonel’s enquiry whether there was any connection between the disappearance of these fellows and the desertion of the four Europeans, the Tomonggong laughed good-naturedly.“Impossible, sir! You saw the palefaces go on board that schooner with your own eyes. What business could they have with these Dayaks, who perhaps have been taking a holiday to soengei Naning? You know that Dalim’s brother lives there.”The Colonel shook his head, but remained silent.When however two days afterwards the wounded from soengei Mantangei were brought in and with Eastern exaggeration talked about the rifle-fire as if a hundred men had been engaged—when too, the doctor imprudently declared that he was unable to say whether or not the wounds were inflicted by round bullets, but rather thought that they looked more like wounds torn by explosive balls, the Colonel began to reflect. He desired the Chief of the district to appear, talked the matter over with him and finally ordered him to keep thirty Dayaks ready. He also bade him send the Chief of the kampong, Damboeng Papoendeh, to the fort to receive further instructions.On leaving the fort the old Tomonggong met the doctor.“It is all over with them now,” he said. “Their track is clear.”“But, Tomonggong, how is it possible that these Europeans could have fought in soengei Mantangei?”[93]“I cannot explain the possibility, sir, but I will swear that it was they.”“Take care,” the doctor laughed, “the palefaces punish false oaths heavily.”“I am quite at ease. None such devils are found in the whole of Dayak country. First, that crocodile hunt; then the fight with a boa; afterwards the heavy fire into the boats of the approaching inhabitants of the kampong. Nobody here carries such weapons. I will lay you any wager that the repeating rifles of the Colonel have played their part in all these scenes.”“Did you tell the Colonel?”“Not yet; he is too much taken up with the notion that the palefaces are on board that schooner. The finding of that coffin is a positive proof to him that they have chosen that direction.”“And do you not think so, Tomonggong?”“I did think so once, sir, but not now. According to my view the fugitives have gone higher up. If the Colonel would only listen to me we should be on their track already.”“What does he intend to do?”“To let Damboeng Papoendeh find out first what was their object in going to soengei Mantangei. But by the time he will have obtained positive reports these men will be too far away.”“Let them go, Tomonggong, let them go.”“It is all very well for you to say that; but if we do not follow them now, they will either fall a prey to the head-hunters of the upper regions, or will settle amongst the Ot Danoms and render their capture more difficult for my own people. In either case much unnecessary blood will be spilt. I will return to-night and[94]hope to find the Colonel in a better mood for listening to my proposals.”“But could you not wait a day or two? For instance, until we receive further information?”“My gratitude towards you, sir, begins to oppress me. I owe you the life of my child, but the lives of many human beings are now involved.”“I beseech you, have a little more patience.”“Be it so! But be sure that this is the last time that I will do anything for these fugitives. I feel that I am acting wrongly and that if I had not listened to you from the beginning we should have been saved all this trouble.”A few hours afterwards three canoes, well manned and fully armed, sailed up the Kapoeas. They were under the command of Damboeng Papoendeh, a young Dayak chief eager to gain his first spurs under the Dutch flag. When the Colonel informed him that the canoe which had given battle to the people of soengei Mantangei had sailed toward the Doesson, he smiled and said that he fully understood how to act.A few minutes later the doctor tried to speak to him alone, but the Dayak repelled all advances and proudly stated that “he had pledged himself to bring back the fugitives, dead or alive.”The post arrived at Kwala Kapoeas next day and brought a recommendation to the Colonel not to leave any means untried to recapture the deserters.“But what are you to do?” asked the doctor, who as usual was spending the evening with the Colonel and had witnessed the opening of the official letters.[95]“What am I to do? For my part, the deserters may get clean off. I will have nothing more to do with the matter. I have already exceeded my duty as military commander. It is not my fault that these cruising boats are so slow and can’t get along.”While giving vent to his feelings the Colonel had almost mechanically opened the other letters and skimmed over their contents. Most of them were of an administrative nature and of little material importance. But the one which he now held in his hand seemed to rivet his whole attention. It was a communication from the Resident, that a schooner carrying reversed Dutch colors and laden with salt, opium, gunpowder and leaden and iron bullets had been captured by His Majesty’s steamer Montrado, in the neighborhood of Poeloe Mangkop, south of cape Batoe Titi. Most of the men had been killed during the fight. One European only, seemingly an Englishman, appeared to have been on board. The commanders of all stations along the coast were therefore advised to be on the lookout, as similar attempts at landing contraband stores might be expected.“By the saints! it must have been that infernal schooner,” the Colonel burst out. “And the deserters were not on board after all! Where else can they be? Have we been following the wrong track? But how can we account for that coffin in the Javan sea? It is above my comprehension altogether. Old Tomonggong may be right after all that it was they who caused that fracas in the soengei Mantangei. But how did they get there?”His excitement now became very great and he despatched a messenger to the district chief, ordering him to be present at the[96]fort on the following morning with fifty oarsmen to accompany him to soengei Mantangei.The fugitives continued their journey from soengei Mantangei during the night. They had now been fully seven days on their travels. The country around gradually lost its alluvial appearance, and although the elevation of the soil was not yet very important and our adventurers could still clearly distinguish in the current of the river the regular and marked appearance of ebb and flood, the riwoet haroesan, breath of the stream, had totally ceased. The highest tide never brought the sea so far up and its waters were here free from all brackishness.About three o’clock in the afternoon the travellers reached a spot called petak bapoeti, white sail, by the natives. This consisted of a range of hills about forty feet high, formed of bluish-white sand, mingled with numerous shells of a different kind from those in the clay mud met with round the south coast of Borneo. In support of the hypothesis that once upon a time this must have been the southern coast of the island, similar hill formations are found at about the same distance from the mouths of the Doesson, Kahajan and Mantawei rivers.To stretch their limbs awhile on this white sand was a welcome relaxation to our Europeans, for to sit for days cross-legged in a canoe is exceedingly fatiguing to a person not accustomed to it. They therefore moved about freely, occupying themselves in gathering some dark red berries, not unlike our blackberries, which grew abundantly here and which supplied an agreeable relish to their monotonous meals.After they had walked an hour or two Dalim gave the signal[97]for departure, telling them that where they were such multitudes of mosquitoes swarmed about at night that despite the use of any quantity of “brotoali” sleep would be impossible. According to him it was the spot where most of the mosquitoes of the island congregated; for which he accounted by relating the following legend:“The son of Sultan Koening, the Djata—or Crocodile—King of the Batang Moeroeng, was going to be married to the daughter of Anding Maling Goena, the Crocodile King of the Kapoeas River. The marriage was to be solemnized at this spot; and the fishes, water-snakes, shrimps, frogs and other inhabitants of the stream assembled to increase the pomp of the ceremony. They brought with them some hundreds of pounds of mosquitoes as the best present they could give the young married couple in token of their affection. The present was graciously accepted; and the descendants of those mosquitoes in a most disagreeable manner impress the memory of that marriage gift upon any traveller whose ill-luck carries him thither to spend the night.”“A queer present,” La Cueille remarked, “only a Dayak could suggest such a wedding gift.”“I heard Dalim speak of the island Kalimantan,” said Wienersdorf. “Which island is that?”Johannes hereupon told him that Kalimantan was the name given by the natives to Borneo, and that the European name, derived from the word Broenai, simply indicates a small division of the island situated on the north-western coast.“Does the word Kalimantan mean anything at all?”“Kalimantawa is the Dayak name of the dorian or jack-fruit[98]of Borneo, the shape of the island being similar to that of the fruit, which probably led to the adoption of the name.”“That is quite impossible,” Wienersdorf rejoined. “Borneo is one of the largest islands of the world, and to define the shape of so large an island one requires a certain amount of knowledge which no people of the Indian Archipelago are likely to possess.”Dalim hereupon bent over to Johannes and whispered something in his ear.“You may be right,” the latter observed. “Dalim has just suggested Kalliintan, river of diamonds. That may be the true origin of the name, asintanmeans diamond.”In discourse of a similar nature time was materially shortened and our travellers soon reached kotta Towanan. This was a Dayak fortification, such as is frequently found all over the inner regions of Borneo. It consisted of a long square redoubt without projections; its parapets were made of strong wooden piles of vast size, and was ornamented here and there with life-size wooden images representing Dayak warriors in every possible attitude of war.Approaching nearer, but still covered by the last projecting bank, Dalim advised that the kotta should be reconnoitred in order to ascertain that it was not occupied by river pirates and head-hunters. A party accompanied by Schlickeisen and La Cueille landed and penetrated into the wood. They soon returned, however, and reported that they had found nothing of a suspicious nature.At first they proposed to pass the night in the kotta and enjoy sleep on terra firma again; but after Wienersdorf had made a[99]careful survey, he remarked that both in the front and rear of the fort there were large apertures, which would require to be guarded. It would also be necessary to keep strict watch over their canoe, which contained all their riches. The efficient defence of these several positions would certainly be too much for their small number of men, none of whom had yet enjoyed a good night’s rest. They therefore resolved to remain in their boat, and by setting one man to do duty as sentry enable the others to enjoy undisturbed repose. Evening had closed in and the Dayaks took the first watch, the Europeans arranging to succeed and relieve them later in the night.But man proposes and God disposes. Their rest was fated to be disturbed.It might have been about nine o’clock in the evening; the Europeans had enveloped themselves in their blankets and were already snoring. The three Dayaks were sitting together in conversation, when Dalim made the remark that their supply of wood was insufficient to keep such a fire burning as would be necessary to command a thorough survey of the territory. He ordered one of his mates to supply this want and pointed out to him a heap of dry branches which he had noticed during his examination of the fort some hours before. The Dayak made no demur whatever but proceeded on his errand. His friends saw him land and disappear through one of the apertures of the fort; when suddenly a heart-rending cry was heard which summoned the watchers as well as the Europeans to their feet. Wienersdorf and La Cueille were among the first to seize their rifles and leap on shore; Dalim followed them closely, while the others kept a[100]sharp lookout, their rifles presented and their fingers on the trigger.Dalim and his mates carefully entered the fort, but Wienersdorf suddenly stumbled over something, fell, and uttered a cry of horror. Dalim who was behind him hastened to his aid. He bore a lighted torch in his hand, by the faint glimmer of which they perceived the headless corpse of their native companion. The body had been decapitated after the Dayak fashion, the head having been severed from it at one blow.As a rule, this decapitation is performed so suddenly that the victims enter into eternity before they are aware of their impending fate. In this case, however, the Dayak seemed to have realized his situation during his last moments, as was proved by the cry he had uttered. He seemed also to have clutched his assailant with his left hand, because there was the fragment of ewah in his grasp, while his right hand still held his mandauw. La Cueille perceived something lying on the grass not far from the dead Dayak; he stooped and seized it, only to give utterance to a cry of horror and dismay. Powerless to relinquish what he held in his hand he raised it up. It was the head of their companion, its eyes rolling and its jaw and lips moving in their last agonies, as if they were trying to find utterance. At this horrible sight Dalim cried out terrified as he moved backward,“Quick, back!”He had scarcely uttered these words when a whistling sound was heard and La Cueille with a true Walloon curse cried out that he was wounded. He shouldered his rifle without loosing his grip of the head; but Dalim took him by the arm and hurried[101]him toward the canoe, while Wienersdorf covered the retreat, discharging the Remington into the surrounding obscurity. Upon nearing the light diffused by the boat’s fire, La Cueille thought he saw something move in the bush which skirted the palisade of the fortifications. He tore himself away from Dalim, threw the yet bleeding head into the canoe, and discharged his rifle in the direction of the shrubs. The shot was quickly answered with a defiant lēēēēh, lèlèlèlèlè, ouiiiit, and at the same time some figures emerged from the darkness into the illuminated circle. Now, however, came Johannes and Schlickeisen’s turn to interpose their aid. They had remained in the canoe, awaiting a favorable opportunity for action. Schlickeisen was armed with the other Remington rifle; Wienersdorf and the Walloon took their position near the canoe, and a rifle-fire was kept up which put the assailing Dayaks to rout. The first two shots fired by the Europeans from the canoe seemed almost sufficient, for these being delivered with a cool and steady aim two of their assailants were instantly hors de combat; the others soon fled.Nothing further could be seen ashore; our adventurers therefore ceased firing and took time to recover themselves. La Cueille complained of pain in his arm, upon which Wienersdorf examined it and found that the Walloon had been wounded by a poisoned arrow. They all looked at each other dejectedly, for they had learned enough of arrow poison to be aware of its terrible consequences. Dalim took a handful of salt which he rubbed into the gums of the patient until a profuse salivation was produced. He was proceeding to rub it into the wound itself when Wienersdorf[102]pushed him aside, and opening his pocket knife made a deep crucial incision over the small wound. He then produced a bottle of liquid ammonia and poured a few drops of the alkali into the cut.The Walloon roared with pain, writhing terribly and mingling many forcible expletives with constant repetitions of, “Sainte Vierge, priez pour moi!”Although the situation was grave indeed, Johannes could not refrain from pointing out to La Cueille how soon he had forgotten his part of an Arab and strongly advised him to mutter a devout, “Lā ilāha illa llāhoe,” instead of invoking the Holy Virgin. The Walloon, though greatly incensed against his brown comrade, was in too much pain to give vent to his feelings. At length after many sighs and lamentations he fell into a deep slumber, which Dalim considered a favorable symptom.It was clear that the others must not think of going to sleep. They knew that the enemy was in their immediate neighborhood. They therefore remained, rifle in hand, watching the banks from under the roof of their canoe in order to be prepared for a renewed attack. All remained quiet for a considerable time. Suddenly they heard from behind them on the river the well known but formidable lēēēēh lèlèlèlèlè ouiiiit! and a hail of small arrows dropped amongst them over the canoe and under the roof. Upon turning round sharply, they had just time to see a boat shoot by inmid-stream, its occupants continuing their cry of defiance. They thereupon discharged a few shots which seemed to be well aimed, for the war cry suddenly ceased and gave way to shrieks of pain. These continued to be heard for a considerable time in[103]the stillness of the night, but they gradually grew fainter until at last they were lost in the distance.La Cueille on first hearing the war cry and the ensuing noise of the firing had jumped up from his sleep in a great fright. Feeling about for some weapon he had seized hold of the head which a few hours ago he himself had thrown into the canoe, but had quite forgotten. Being still under the influence of the late tragedy his horror was extreme, and he at once concluded that the head-hunters were on board and busily engaged in their bloody work among his companions. Fortunately there was no weapon near, else in the intense darkness he might have wrought sad havoc among his friends. In his heedless passion of self-preservation he grasped Johannes by the neck and tried to strangle him, when the latter becoming enraged, dealt him a few smart blows in return, saying, “This diabolical Walloon means to throttle me; I believe he is mad.”They all fancied he was suffering from a sudden fit of mania caused by the arrow poison; but when the Walloon told them how on awakening he had taken hold of the head, they burst into hearty laughter and congratulated the pseudo head-hunter on the spoil he had secured.“We will dissect and clean it nicely for you,” said Johannes, “and you may take it with you to Jupille. It will be quite a treasure to you, and the Walloon ladies will almost besiege you when you tell them that Dayak fashion you are able to lay a skull at the feet of your lady love.”They all laughed at this suggestion except La Cueille himself,[104]who had not yet wholly recovered from his fright. A good draught from the toeak bottle soon restored him.After such stirring events sleep was an impossibility, although Dalim assured his companions they had nothing more to apprehend. It was, however, resolved to continue watching until the sun should appear in the heavens.“We are getting on,” Schlickeisen observed; “our little force has suffered one death and two wounded. If things continue at this rate, by the time we reach the upper country few of us will be left to tell the story of our adventures.”“Ah, bah! Did you think to escape without even a scratch?” Johannes asked. “If only half of us reach the Chinese sea we may think ourselves lucky indeed. In real fact no one of us is safe.”“Your predictions are certainly far from reassuring,” Wienersdorf said.“He is always prophesying something horrible,” La Cueille muttered. “This ugly fellow tries to make our lives more insupportable than they already are.”“You will have to take life as it comes, and to face its trials fearlessly. Our position, however, is not quite so bad after all; we certainly have to lament the loss of one of our companions, but fortunately no one of us four has fallen yet. Wienersdorf’s wound received from the boa has nearly healed, and since La Cueille is not quite dead yet we may laugh at his pin pricks. What a noise our Walloon made about it, did he not?” Johannes laughingly remarked.“Since I am not dead yet you may enjoy your fun,” La Cueille said. “But was I really in danger?”[105]“I did not entertain much hope for your life when I saw that arrow. Those weapons usually act very rapidly indeed. First, you are taken with a shivering fit, then your teeth begin to rattle, you talk at random and with the vehemence of a drunkard; and then all is over within half an hour. Since you have survived all these symptoms you may consider yourself out of danger.”The Walloon gave a sigh of relief.“But Wienersdorf will have to be careful of that bottle of nasty smelling liquid,” Johannes continued, “he has done wonders with it indeed.”“Dalim swears that his salt saved La Cueille.”“Not a bit of it,” Johannes replied. “I have watched the Colonel at Kwala Kapoeas in his experiments with arrow poisons on dogs, monkeys and fowls. The salt antidote always failed; the poor animals invariably died after it, while those treated by the application of the foul smelling liquid were all cured.”Wienersdorf was sitting, lost in thought, supporting his head with his hand. “It is still a riddle to me,” he said at last, “how those men came to leave a head behind them on the ground. I always thought that the head-hunter seized his victim by the hair before giving the fatal blow.”“That is what I also cannot make out,” the Dayak assured him. “As a rule the grasping of the hair and the blow itself take place so rapidly that the victim has no time to utter a cry. Some instances of rapidity have been recorded where the victims actually make a few steps onward waving their arms about after decapitation. The Dayak boys of the upper regions regularly cultivate head-hunting as a fine art. They first place a cocoanut[106]on the top of a thin post and practice until they are able to cut the post clean through just under the point where the nut rests upon it without injuring the latter. Later on, as they advance in years and their strength increases, the post is replaced by an effigy of a large boy, the neck of which is made of a piece of soft but elastic wood, and in order to complete the illusion they adorn the nut with a wig formed of the fibres of the arengpalm, which, when properly made, strongly resembles the thin hair of the natives. Hence their great dexterity.”“To which I can add,” Johannes continued, “that the Dayaks of the lower country are just as great experts in the handling of their mandauws. I have witnessed at Kwala Kapoeas how, in the presence of the Colonel, any Dayak, however weak in appearance, could without visible effort divide in halves at a single blow a ripe green cocoanut, while none of the Europeans could manage to penetrate beyond the fibre.”“It seems a curious custom to offer one’s lady-love these human heads,” Schlickeisen continued.“Quite so; but yet it has a meaning,” Johannes answered. “Formerly it must have been a proof of his valor given by the bridegroom to his bride, to demonstrate that he was capable of protecting his wife and children. What better guarantee than the head of one of his enemies killed by his own hand could be offered by a primitive community? This custom afterwards became degraded by turning skulls into an article of luxury or of established traffic. Thus an institution originating in the best intentions became the curse of the whole population.”[107]“But these atrocities cannot be practiced in the lower country, can they?” Wienersdorf asked of Dalim.“The Dutch will not allow them,” the latter replied.“So that you only abandon the practice because it is prohibited. Don’t you consider head-hunting an abominable occupation?”“Who can say? Perhaps according to my views it is not,” was the phlegmatic reply, proving that the perception of its horror had not greatly impressed him.While they were conversing in this strain the night crept on and day at last reappeared, to the great delight of our travellers.They examined the kotta carefully and found nothing but the decapitated body of their late companion. A small pool of blood was discovered at a little distance from it, while at one of the openings in the palisades some bloody finger-marks appeared on the wood-work. They therefore concluded that the enemy had also suffered loss, although to the utter disappointment of the Swiss no bodies could be found.“Do you think those blackguards got off scot free?” Schlickeisen asked earnestly.“Certainly not,” Johannes answered, “for I could follow traces of blood as far as the river, where they took to their rangkan. We shall have to examine the ground more thoroughly. But you must not forget that the natives of the Dutch Indies consider it the greatest disgrace to leave the bodies of their fallen brethren behind.”After having examined the kotta the deserters passed outside through one of the openings to scour the neighborhood. In[108]their explorations they reached a spot the long grass of which was trodden down. When Schlickeisen had cut a way through the thick creepers and bushes he found two bodies dressed in full war costume, with their coats of mail made of rattan chain and caps of monkey skin on their heads, their shields in their left hands and their naked mandauws in their right. According to Dalim they were Poenans, a Dayak tribe belonging to the interior of Borneo, near the sources of the Kahajan-Doesson and Kotei rivers. Both of these men must have destroyed many victims judging by the tufts of human hair which ornamented the blades and handles of their mandauws. They were young men still, and yet Dalim averred that one of them had killed four and the other seven people, facts which were proved by the number of red rattan rings round the sheaths of their mandauws.The weapons and coats of mail of the dead were appropriated by the two Dayaks, and their bodies were then thrown into the river as an offering to Djata, the Chief of the Crocodiles. Their own fallen companion they washed carefully and painted his forehead and nails, after which they and the Europeans dug a grave and buried him, putting his head in position above his trunk. They placed a mandauw in his hand and deposited his lance beside him in the grave. Each of them then strewed a handful of raw rice over the body, saying,“Djetoh akam,” (this is for you).They then strewed a second handful saying, “This we send to our forefathers,” and finally a third one with the words, “This is for so and so”—mentioning the names of some relations who had recently died.[109]This ceremony of strewing rice is never omitted at funerals.After this the Dayak companions of the dead man uttered a piercing shriek called tatoem, the lament for the dead, and then proceeded to close the grave. In order to secure the body from being interfered with, they had chosen a spot in the midst of thick herbage and had carefully cut the sods and put them aside without breaking them. They then collected the excavated earth upon a large sheet, taking care not to drop a single handful. In filling the grave they tramped the earth down as firmly as possible, planted a few short shrubs and then replaced the sods so carefully that the most searching eye could not discover where they had been divided by the spade. The remainder of the superfluous earth was carefully carried to the river, into which it was thrown, and the grave was copiously watered so as to preserve the sods and plants from withering.When all was finished the fugitives took to their canoes again, threw out their oars, and left the spot which had nearly been their last resting-place.[110]
CHAPTER VI.THE WOUNDED GO TO KWALA KAPOEAS—THE MANTANGEI AND THE MENKATIP—THE COMMANDER IN PURSUIT—AT SEA—PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES—THE SCHOONER—THE RETURN—ON THE TRACK AT LAST—DEPARTURE FROM MANTANGEI—WHITE SAIL—FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE HEAD-HUNTERS—LA CUEILLE WOUNDED—A FUNERAL CEREMONY.
THE WOUNDED GO TO KWALA KAPOEAS—THE MANTANGEI AND THE MENKATIP—THE COMMANDER IN PURSUIT—AT SEA—PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES—THE SCHOONER—THE RETURN—ON THE TRACK AT LAST—DEPARTURE FROM MANTANGEI—WHITE SAIL—FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE HEAD-HUNTERS—LA CUEILLE WOUNDED—A FUNERAL CEREMONY.
THE WOUNDED GO TO KWALA KAPOEAS—THE MANTANGEI AND THE MENKATIP—THE COMMANDER IN PURSUIT—AT SEA—PURSUIT OF THE FUGITIVES—THE SCHOONER—THE RETURN—ON THE TRACK AT LAST—DEPARTURE FROM MANTANGEI—WHITE SAIL—FIRST EXPERIENCE WITH THE HEAD-HUNTERS—LA CUEILLE WOUNDED—A FUNERAL CEREMONY.
Although the fugitives were again on their way, this was not the last they were to hear of the adventure. Several men had been wounded in the affray, and as the Dayaks were but indifferently acquainted with surgery, they resolved to take the sufferers to the fort and seek the assistance of the Dutch.There could be no vengeance taken for the blood which had been shed, as the strangers had departed, leaving no trace of the direction they were pursuing. The Chief of the kampong, fearing that the vengeful feelings of his people would involve him in serious difficulties with the Dutch, told his people that the boat which carried our fugitives had sailed up the soengei Mantangei, in order to reach the Doesson.When the wounded arrived at Kapoeas they were immediately attended to by the surgeon. Their wounds were found to be caused by bullets and wholly different in character from injuries inflicted by the mandauw or lance of the natives. This fact excited[86]the greatest astonishment and suspicion. The account furnished by the wounded men also gave grounds for serious reflection. They described the incident of the boa constrictor, and related how the men of kampong Mantangei had looked upon the deliverers of their wives as head-hunters; how this mistake had led to combat and how they were wounded and put to flight by a heavy rifle-fire. The information that their assailants were Dayak merchants who were working their way to the upper Doesson by means of the Mantangei was not credited by the Colonel; on the other hand neither did he suspect the presence of the deserters in that direction. Only the day before he had returned from a journey on the Javan sea in his efforts to recapture them. He had failed, but no doubt remained in his mind of his having been upon their track.On the morning following the desertion the Colonel had bestirred himself early. Long before sunrise he had visited the Chief of the district, Tomonggong Nikodemus Djaja Nagara. After taking some preliminary measures he had placed himself at the head of a large number of Dayaks, divided them into several canoes, and accompanied by the Tomonggong had taken his course seawards.Passing an islet in the Lesser Dayak river they encountered the canoe which had been so terribly injured by the shots from the fortress the night before. As, however, its crew were not in the secret of the deserters no information could be gained from them. They could only show their dead and wounded and explain how the canoe carrying the coffin had disappeared in the dark down the stream. They had been terribly frightened and even now had not lost all fear. After a long palaver, however, they were[87]convinced of their present safety and assured that they might carry their wounded to the fortress to have them surgically attended to.Every creek, every soengei was examined, the islets thoroughly scoured, but nothing of a suspicious nature was found. The Colonel, on nearing the mouth of the Troessan, proposed to despatch part of his men through that canal with orders to rejoin him again at the mouth of the Kahajan. Had this order been executed our fugitives would have been caught. But before the division of the men had been definitely made, a canoe appeared at the mouth of the Troessan carrying the Chief of that district, a trustworthy subject, who declared that he had not met with a single canoe. It was therefore clear that the fugitives could not have escaped that way. The voyage was continued to the mouth of the Lesser Dayak. Their search in creeks and branches involved such loss of time that it was late in the afternoon before they reached the Javan sea.The Colonel now carefully scanned the horizon and saw two cruisers lying at anchor. On the south-west a prauw was working against the wind, but as soon as it perceived the little fleet it spread all canvas and tried to get away with all speed. This strengthened the Colonel’s belief that the fugitives were on board of that prauw. Even the Tomonggong declared that its appearance was not unlike that of the prauw which had borne the cholera-stricken corpse. As to who the oarsmen were he could form no conception. He knew the fear entertained by his people of this terrible malady and this fact augmented his uncertainty.The Colonel ordered a few shots to be fired in order to attract[88]the attention of the cruisers and displayed the national colors from his stern. Their respective commanders seemed to understand what they were required to do. They immediately weighed their anchors and made sail towards his little fleet.The Colonel went on board one of them and ordered all sails to be set. He also directed that three blank shots should be fired as a signal for the prauw to lay to. But instead of obeying, the boat made more sail and brought as many oars into play as possible. When first observed it had appeared to carry about four oars, but now that it was in flight it seemed to be crowded with men.The Colonel ordered the gunners to load, determined to show that he was in earnest. But the three-pound shells only rebounded on the water and burst with loud reports; the distance was too great. The number of men on board excited the suspicion of the Tomonggong also, but he declared that it could not possibly be the canoe of the fugitives and that they were on a false track. If that canoe had been manned at Kwala Kapoeas with so many oarsmen it could not have remained a secret to him, the Chief of the district.At last the Colonel decided to despatch one of the cruisers in pursuit of the fugitive boat, while the other was to remain behind to assist him in examining the coast.While giving his orders a cry was heard from one of the surrounding canoes that it had a box in tow. This box proved to be the coffin of the cholera patient which had been brought forth for burial on the previous evening. One of the Dayaks recognized the body, while another pretended to have himself made[89]the coffin. The Colonel and the Tomonggong looked at each other; both measured the distance between the fugitive prauw and the mouth of the river, and as the coffin had been found near the line between these two points all doubt was removed. Even the Dayak chief now concluded that the coffin had been thrown overboard from that suspicious prauw, which must consequently contain the fugitives.“Forward, forward!” was now in order.All that day the pursued prauw kept its distance, now losing a little, then regaining the loss. Towards evening the south-monsoon began to drop and as is usual in those latitudes the land wind arose. The wind blew from south-east to east by north and a thick mass of clouds darkened the sky. Both cruisers, although in violation of the existing rules, carried their lights and every boat of the Dayak flotilla was also provided with a lamp. No lights however were visible from the fugitive, and it was therefore impossible to keep it in view. Nevertheless the combined fleets pursued their course west south-west during the night, to find next morning that the prauw was only visible as a dim black spot on the southern horizon. It had simply changed its course in the darkness of the night, so as not to be too near Cape Salatan.By this manœuvre it would be enabled as soon as the wind should blow again from the south-east, to run before it.The Dutch cruisers endeavored to regain the lost distance in the lull which generally prevails during the first hours of the morning, and as soon as the monsoon reappeared at eight they set all sail; but the result was the same as on the previous day.[90]About two in the afternoon a large schooner appeared on the horizon. This vessel, observing the pursued prauw, showed the Dutch colors reversed, fired a shot, and manœuvred to take the prauw in tow. This she speedily accomplished, then lying to the wind she fired another shot, the charge of which flew over the first of the cruisers, but struck the mast of the other and sent it flying overboard. Considering the distance, the result of this shot proved that she was armed with grooved guns. The Colonel, enraged at the insult of the flag and at the shot, determined to continue his pursuit; but the schooner was too fast a sailer, and within an hour she had disappeared from view.They then began to think of the return journey. Tomonggong pointed towards the horizon and declared that the faint glimpse of land towards the north was cape Poeding and the one a little higher up to the west cape Kramat. The Colonel consulted his map and his face darkened.“From this point we have to make about thirty-six miles against the wind. A terrible affair; the deuce take them!” he exclaimed.Giving his orders he arranged that the two cruisers should remain together, while the dismasted one should be towed as far as the Lesser Dayak river by six canoes. Once there, she would be able to manage with her oars. This settled, the Colonel, accompanied by the Tomonggong, went on board of one of the fastest boats of the fleet, manned her with sixty picked oarsmen, and hurried on in order to regain his post at Kwala Kapoeas, which he reached late at night after an absence of four days.He was welcomed on his arrival by the doctor who was surprised[91]at not seeing the fugitives return with him. His look of enquiry was answered by the Colonel with the words,“Gone, and forever! I saw them disappear on board of an armed schooner. But how could they have put themselves in communication with her? The more I think it over, the less can I make it out.”He related his experiences, the sighting of the canoes, the finding of the body, the pursuit, the fatal shot from the schooner and her reversed flag, and concluded with,“It is a mystery to me.”“What kind of vessel was that schooner?” the doctor asked.“How should I know? She carried European gear and I am positive that she was armed with steel-bored guns. Perhaps she was one of those British smugglers from the straits of Malacca which drive an impudent trade in contraband opium and war ammunition. However, I am going to make my report. By-the-bye, did you send off my former one during my absence?”“The postal canoe left while you were yet in sight.”“Good; we may receive an answer to-day.”Inwardly, the doctor was glad of the escape of the deserters; but his joy would have visibly evaporated could he only have known where they were at that moment.The day following the return of the Colonel the report was spread in the kampong at Kwala Kapoeas that Dalim and two other Dayaks, who were all three under the supervision of the police, had been seen at soengei Naning. Nobody knew that they had served as oarsmen to the funeral canoe and when the Colonel spoke of their absence to the Chief of the district he confirmed[92]the statement that three Dayaks had disappeared. The Chief also related the whole history of the crocodile hunt at Poeloe Kanamit and declared that he had already sent out trustworthy messengers to bring those men back again. On the Colonel’s enquiry whether there was any connection between the disappearance of these fellows and the desertion of the four Europeans, the Tomonggong laughed good-naturedly.“Impossible, sir! You saw the palefaces go on board that schooner with your own eyes. What business could they have with these Dayaks, who perhaps have been taking a holiday to soengei Naning? You know that Dalim’s brother lives there.”The Colonel shook his head, but remained silent.When however two days afterwards the wounded from soengei Mantangei were brought in and with Eastern exaggeration talked about the rifle-fire as if a hundred men had been engaged—when too, the doctor imprudently declared that he was unable to say whether or not the wounds were inflicted by round bullets, but rather thought that they looked more like wounds torn by explosive balls, the Colonel began to reflect. He desired the Chief of the district to appear, talked the matter over with him and finally ordered him to keep thirty Dayaks ready. He also bade him send the Chief of the kampong, Damboeng Papoendeh, to the fort to receive further instructions.On leaving the fort the old Tomonggong met the doctor.“It is all over with them now,” he said. “Their track is clear.”“But, Tomonggong, how is it possible that these Europeans could have fought in soengei Mantangei?”[93]“I cannot explain the possibility, sir, but I will swear that it was they.”“Take care,” the doctor laughed, “the palefaces punish false oaths heavily.”“I am quite at ease. None such devils are found in the whole of Dayak country. First, that crocodile hunt; then the fight with a boa; afterwards the heavy fire into the boats of the approaching inhabitants of the kampong. Nobody here carries such weapons. I will lay you any wager that the repeating rifles of the Colonel have played their part in all these scenes.”“Did you tell the Colonel?”“Not yet; he is too much taken up with the notion that the palefaces are on board that schooner. The finding of that coffin is a positive proof to him that they have chosen that direction.”“And do you not think so, Tomonggong?”“I did think so once, sir, but not now. According to my view the fugitives have gone higher up. If the Colonel would only listen to me we should be on their track already.”“What does he intend to do?”“To let Damboeng Papoendeh find out first what was their object in going to soengei Mantangei. But by the time he will have obtained positive reports these men will be too far away.”“Let them go, Tomonggong, let them go.”“It is all very well for you to say that; but if we do not follow them now, they will either fall a prey to the head-hunters of the upper regions, or will settle amongst the Ot Danoms and render their capture more difficult for my own people. In either case much unnecessary blood will be spilt. I will return to-night and[94]hope to find the Colonel in a better mood for listening to my proposals.”“But could you not wait a day or two? For instance, until we receive further information?”“My gratitude towards you, sir, begins to oppress me. I owe you the life of my child, but the lives of many human beings are now involved.”“I beseech you, have a little more patience.”“Be it so! But be sure that this is the last time that I will do anything for these fugitives. I feel that I am acting wrongly and that if I had not listened to you from the beginning we should have been saved all this trouble.”A few hours afterwards three canoes, well manned and fully armed, sailed up the Kapoeas. They were under the command of Damboeng Papoendeh, a young Dayak chief eager to gain his first spurs under the Dutch flag. When the Colonel informed him that the canoe which had given battle to the people of soengei Mantangei had sailed toward the Doesson, he smiled and said that he fully understood how to act.A few minutes later the doctor tried to speak to him alone, but the Dayak repelled all advances and proudly stated that “he had pledged himself to bring back the fugitives, dead or alive.”The post arrived at Kwala Kapoeas next day and brought a recommendation to the Colonel not to leave any means untried to recapture the deserters.“But what are you to do?” asked the doctor, who as usual was spending the evening with the Colonel and had witnessed the opening of the official letters.[95]“What am I to do? For my part, the deserters may get clean off. I will have nothing more to do with the matter. I have already exceeded my duty as military commander. It is not my fault that these cruising boats are so slow and can’t get along.”While giving vent to his feelings the Colonel had almost mechanically opened the other letters and skimmed over their contents. Most of them were of an administrative nature and of little material importance. But the one which he now held in his hand seemed to rivet his whole attention. It was a communication from the Resident, that a schooner carrying reversed Dutch colors and laden with salt, opium, gunpowder and leaden and iron bullets had been captured by His Majesty’s steamer Montrado, in the neighborhood of Poeloe Mangkop, south of cape Batoe Titi. Most of the men had been killed during the fight. One European only, seemingly an Englishman, appeared to have been on board. The commanders of all stations along the coast were therefore advised to be on the lookout, as similar attempts at landing contraband stores might be expected.“By the saints! it must have been that infernal schooner,” the Colonel burst out. “And the deserters were not on board after all! Where else can they be? Have we been following the wrong track? But how can we account for that coffin in the Javan sea? It is above my comprehension altogether. Old Tomonggong may be right after all that it was they who caused that fracas in the soengei Mantangei. But how did they get there?”His excitement now became very great and he despatched a messenger to the district chief, ordering him to be present at the[96]fort on the following morning with fifty oarsmen to accompany him to soengei Mantangei.The fugitives continued their journey from soengei Mantangei during the night. They had now been fully seven days on their travels. The country around gradually lost its alluvial appearance, and although the elevation of the soil was not yet very important and our adventurers could still clearly distinguish in the current of the river the regular and marked appearance of ebb and flood, the riwoet haroesan, breath of the stream, had totally ceased. The highest tide never brought the sea so far up and its waters were here free from all brackishness.About three o’clock in the afternoon the travellers reached a spot called petak bapoeti, white sail, by the natives. This consisted of a range of hills about forty feet high, formed of bluish-white sand, mingled with numerous shells of a different kind from those in the clay mud met with round the south coast of Borneo. In support of the hypothesis that once upon a time this must have been the southern coast of the island, similar hill formations are found at about the same distance from the mouths of the Doesson, Kahajan and Mantawei rivers.To stretch their limbs awhile on this white sand was a welcome relaxation to our Europeans, for to sit for days cross-legged in a canoe is exceedingly fatiguing to a person not accustomed to it. They therefore moved about freely, occupying themselves in gathering some dark red berries, not unlike our blackberries, which grew abundantly here and which supplied an agreeable relish to their monotonous meals.After they had walked an hour or two Dalim gave the signal[97]for departure, telling them that where they were such multitudes of mosquitoes swarmed about at night that despite the use of any quantity of “brotoali” sleep would be impossible. According to him it was the spot where most of the mosquitoes of the island congregated; for which he accounted by relating the following legend:“The son of Sultan Koening, the Djata—or Crocodile—King of the Batang Moeroeng, was going to be married to the daughter of Anding Maling Goena, the Crocodile King of the Kapoeas River. The marriage was to be solemnized at this spot; and the fishes, water-snakes, shrimps, frogs and other inhabitants of the stream assembled to increase the pomp of the ceremony. They brought with them some hundreds of pounds of mosquitoes as the best present they could give the young married couple in token of their affection. The present was graciously accepted; and the descendants of those mosquitoes in a most disagreeable manner impress the memory of that marriage gift upon any traveller whose ill-luck carries him thither to spend the night.”“A queer present,” La Cueille remarked, “only a Dayak could suggest such a wedding gift.”“I heard Dalim speak of the island Kalimantan,” said Wienersdorf. “Which island is that?”Johannes hereupon told him that Kalimantan was the name given by the natives to Borneo, and that the European name, derived from the word Broenai, simply indicates a small division of the island situated on the north-western coast.“Does the word Kalimantan mean anything at all?”“Kalimantawa is the Dayak name of the dorian or jack-fruit[98]of Borneo, the shape of the island being similar to that of the fruit, which probably led to the adoption of the name.”“That is quite impossible,” Wienersdorf rejoined. “Borneo is one of the largest islands of the world, and to define the shape of so large an island one requires a certain amount of knowledge which no people of the Indian Archipelago are likely to possess.”Dalim hereupon bent over to Johannes and whispered something in his ear.“You may be right,” the latter observed. “Dalim has just suggested Kalliintan, river of diamonds. That may be the true origin of the name, asintanmeans diamond.”In discourse of a similar nature time was materially shortened and our travellers soon reached kotta Towanan. This was a Dayak fortification, such as is frequently found all over the inner regions of Borneo. It consisted of a long square redoubt without projections; its parapets were made of strong wooden piles of vast size, and was ornamented here and there with life-size wooden images representing Dayak warriors in every possible attitude of war.Approaching nearer, but still covered by the last projecting bank, Dalim advised that the kotta should be reconnoitred in order to ascertain that it was not occupied by river pirates and head-hunters. A party accompanied by Schlickeisen and La Cueille landed and penetrated into the wood. They soon returned, however, and reported that they had found nothing of a suspicious nature.At first they proposed to pass the night in the kotta and enjoy sleep on terra firma again; but after Wienersdorf had made a[99]careful survey, he remarked that both in the front and rear of the fort there were large apertures, which would require to be guarded. It would also be necessary to keep strict watch over their canoe, which contained all their riches. The efficient defence of these several positions would certainly be too much for their small number of men, none of whom had yet enjoyed a good night’s rest. They therefore resolved to remain in their boat, and by setting one man to do duty as sentry enable the others to enjoy undisturbed repose. Evening had closed in and the Dayaks took the first watch, the Europeans arranging to succeed and relieve them later in the night.But man proposes and God disposes. Their rest was fated to be disturbed.It might have been about nine o’clock in the evening; the Europeans had enveloped themselves in their blankets and were already snoring. The three Dayaks were sitting together in conversation, when Dalim made the remark that their supply of wood was insufficient to keep such a fire burning as would be necessary to command a thorough survey of the territory. He ordered one of his mates to supply this want and pointed out to him a heap of dry branches which he had noticed during his examination of the fort some hours before. The Dayak made no demur whatever but proceeded on his errand. His friends saw him land and disappear through one of the apertures of the fort; when suddenly a heart-rending cry was heard which summoned the watchers as well as the Europeans to their feet. Wienersdorf and La Cueille were among the first to seize their rifles and leap on shore; Dalim followed them closely, while the others kept a[100]sharp lookout, their rifles presented and their fingers on the trigger.Dalim and his mates carefully entered the fort, but Wienersdorf suddenly stumbled over something, fell, and uttered a cry of horror. Dalim who was behind him hastened to his aid. He bore a lighted torch in his hand, by the faint glimmer of which they perceived the headless corpse of their native companion. The body had been decapitated after the Dayak fashion, the head having been severed from it at one blow.As a rule, this decapitation is performed so suddenly that the victims enter into eternity before they are aware of their impending fate. In this case, however, the Dayak seemed to have realized his situation during his last moments, as was proved by the cry he had uttered. He seemed also to have clutched his assailant with his left hand, because there was the fragment of ewah in his grasp, while his right hand still held his mandauw. La Cueille perceived something lying on the grass not far from the dead Dayak; he stooped and seized it, only to give utterance to a cry of horror and dismay. Powerless to relinquish what he held in his hand he raised it up. It was the head of their companion, its eyes rolling and its jaw and lips moving in their last agonies, as if they were trying to find utterance. At this horrible sight Dalim cried out terrified as he moved backward,“Quick, back!”He had scarcely uttered these words when a whistling sound was heard and La Cueille with a true Walloon curse cried out that he was wounded. He shouldered his rifle without loosing his grip of the head; but Dalim took him by the arm and hurried[101]him toward the canoe, while Wienersdorf covered the retreat, discharging the Remington into the surrounding obscurity. Upon nearing the light diffused by the boat’s fire, La Cueille thought he saw something move in the bush which skirted the palisade of the fortifications. He tore himself away from Dalim, threw the yet bleeding head into the canoe, and discharged his rifle in the direction of the shrubs. The shot was quickly answered with a defiant lēēēēh, lèlèlèlèlè, ouiiiit, and at the same time some figures emerged from the darkness into the illuminated circle. Now, however, came Johannes and Schlickeisen’s turn to interpose their aid. They had remained in the canoe, awaiting a favorable opportunity for action. Schlickeisen was armed with the other Remington rifle; Wienersdorf and the Walloon took their position near the canoe, and a rifle-fire was kept up which put the assailing Dayaks to rout. The first two shots fired by the Europeans from the canoe seemed almost sufficient, for these being delivered with a cool and steady aim two of their assailants were instantly hors de combat; the others soon fled.Nothing further could be seen ashore; our adventurers therefore ceased firing and took time to recover themselves. La Cueille complained of pain in his arm, upon which Wienersdorf examined it and found that the Walloon had been wounded by a poisoned arrow. They all looked at each other dejectedly, for they had learned enough of arrow poison to be aware of its terrible consequences. Dalim took a handful of salt which he rubbed into the gums of the patient until a profuse salivation was produced. He was proceeding to rub it into the wound itself when Wienersdorf[102]pushed him aside, and opening his pocket knife made a deep crucial incision over the small wound. He then produced a bottle of liquid ammonia and poured a few drops of the alkali into the cut.The Walloon roared with pain, writhing terribly and mingling many forcible expletives with constant repetitions of, “Sainte Vierge, priez pour moi!”Although the situation was grave indeed, Johannes could not refrain from pointing out to La Cueille how soon he had forgotten his part of an Arab and strongly advised him to mutter a devout, “Lā ilāha illa llāhoe,” instead of invoking the Holy Virgin. The Walloon, though greatly incensed against his brown comrade, was in too much pain to give vent to his feelings. At length after many sighs and lamentations he fell into a deep slumber, which Dalim considered a favorable symptom.It was clear that the others must not think of going to sleep. They knew that the enemy was in their immediate neighborhood. They therefore remained, rifle in hand, watching the banks from under the roof of their canoe in order to be prepared for a renewed attack. All remained quiet for a considerable time. Suddenly they heard from behind them on the river the well known but formidable lēēēēh lèlèlèlèlè ouiiiit! and a hail of small arrows dropped amongst them over the canoe and under the roof. Upon turning round sharply, they had just time to see a boat shoot by inmid-stream, its occupants continuing their cry of defiance. They thereupon discharged a few shots which seemed to be well aimed, for the war cry suddenly ceased and gave way to shrieks of pain. These continued to be heard for a considerable time in[103]the stillness of the night, but they gradually grew fainter until at last they were lost in the distance.La Cueille on first hearing the war cry and the ensuing noise of the firing had jumped up from his sleep in a great fright. Feeling about for some weapon he had seized hold of the head which a few hours ago he himself had thrown into the canoe, but had quite forgotten. Being still under the influence of the late tragedy his horror was extreme, and he at once concluded that the head-hunters were on board and busily engaged in their bloody work among his companions. Fortunately there was no weapon near, else in the intense darkness he might have wrought sad havoc among his friends. In his heedless passion of self-preservation he grasped Johannes by the neck and tried to strangle him, when the latter becoming enraged, dealt him a few smart blows in return, saying, “This diabolical Walloon means to throttle me; I believe he is mad.”They all fancied he was suffering from a sudden fit of mania caused by the arrow poison; but when the Walloon told them how on awakening he had taken hold of the head, they burst into hearty laughter and congratulated the pseudo head-hunter on the spoil he had secured.“We will dissect and clean it nicely for you,” said Johannes, “and you may take it with you to Jupille. It will be quite a treasure to you, and the Walloon ladies will almost besiege you when you tell them that Dayak fashion you are able to lay a skull at the feet of your lady love.”They all laughed at this suggestion except La Cueille himself,[104]who had not yet wholly recovered from his fright. A good draught from the toeak bottle soon restored him.After such stirring events sleep was an impossibility, although Dalim assured his companions they had nothing more to apprehend. It was, however, resolved to continue watching until the sun should appear in the heavens.“We are getting on,” Schlickeisen observed; “our little force has suffered one death and two wounded. If things continue at this rate, by the time we reach the upper country few of us will be left to tell the story of our adventures.”“Ah, bah! Did you think to escape without even a scratch?” Johannes asked. “If only half of us reach the Chinese sea we may think ourselves lucky indeed. In real fact no one of us is safe.”“Your predictions are certainly far from reassuring,” Wienersdorf said.“He is always prophesying something horrible,” La Cueille muttered. “This ugly fellow tries to make our lives more insupportable than they already are.”“You will have to take life as it comes, and to face its trials fearlessly. Our position, however, is not quite so bad after all; we certainly have to lament the loss of one of our companions, but fortunately no one of us four has fallen yet. Wienersdorf’s wound received from the boa has nearly healed, and since La Cueille is not quite dead yet we may laugh at his pin pricks. What a noise our Walloon made about it, did he not?” Johannes laughingly remarked.“Since I am not dead yet you may enjoy your fun,” La Cueille said. “But was I really in danger?”[105]“I did not entertain much hope for your life when I saw that arrow. Those weapons usually act very rapidly indeed. First, you are taken with a shivering fit, then your teeth begin to rattle, you talk at random and with the vehemence of a drunkard; and then all is over within half an hour. Since you have survived all these symptoms you may consider yourself out of danger.”The Walloon gave a sigh of relief.“But Wienersdorf will have to be careful of that bottle of nasty smelling liquid,” Johannes continued, “he has done wonders with it indeed.”“Dalim swears that his salt saved La Cueille.”“Not a bit of it,” Johannes replied. “I have watched the Colonel at Kwala Kapoeas in his experiments with arrow poisons on dogs, monkeys and fowls. The salt antidote always failed; the poor animals invariably died after it, while those treated by the application of the foul smelling liquid were all cured.”Wienersdorf was sitting, lost in thought, supporting his head with his hand. “It is still a riddle to me,” he said at last, “how those men came to leave a head behind them on the ground. I always thought that the head-hunter seized his victim by the hair before giving the fatal blow.”“That is what I also cannot make out,” the Dayak assured him. “As a rule the grasping of the hair and the blow itself take place so rapidly that the victim has no time to utter a cry. Some instances of rapidity have been recorded where the victims actually make a few steps onward waving their arms about after decapitation. The Dayak boys of the upper regions regularly cultivate head-hunting as a fine art. They first place a cocoanut[106]on the top of a thin post and practice until they are able to cut the post clean through just under the point where the nut rests upon it without injuring the latter. Later on, as they advance in years and their strength increases, the post is replaced by an effigy of a large boy, the neck of which is made of a piece of soft but elastic wood, and in order to complete the illusion they adorn the nut with a wig formed of the fibres of the arengpalm, which, when properly made, strongly resembles the thin hair of the natives. Hence their great dexterity.”“To which I can add,” Johannes continued, “that the Dayaks of the lower country are just as great experts in the handling of their mandauws. I have witnessed at Kwala Kapoeas how, in the presence of the Colonel, any Dayak, however weak in appearance, could without visible effort divide in halves at a single blow a ripe green cocoanut, while none of the Europeans could manage to penetrate beyond the fibre.”“It seems a curious custom to offer one’s lady-love these human heads,” Schlickeisen continued.“Quite so; but yet it has a meaning,” Johannes answered. “Formerly it must have been a proof of his valor given by the bridegroom to his bride, to demonstrate that he was capable of protecting his wife and children. What better guarantee than the head of one of his enemies killed by his own hand could be offered by a primitive community? This custom afterwards became degraded by turning skulls into an article of luxury or of established traffic. Thus an institution originating in the best intentions became the curse of the whole population.”[107]“But these atrocities cannot be practiced in the lower country, can they?” Wienersdorf asked of Dalim.“The Dutch will not allow them,” the latter replied.“So that you only abandon the practice because it is prohibited. Don’t you consider head-hunting an abominable occupation?”“Who can say? Perhaps according to my views it is not,” was the phlegmatic reply, proving that the perception of its horror had not greatly impressed him.While they were conversing in this strain the night crept on and day at last reappeared, to the great delight of our travellers.They examined the kotta carefully and found nothing but the decapitated body of their late companion. A small pool of blood was discovered at a little distance from it, while at one of the openings in the palisades some bloody finger-marks appeared on the wood-work. They therefore concluded that the enemy had also suffered loss, although to the utter disappointment of the Swiss no bodies could be found.“Do you think those blackguards got off scot free?” Schlickeisen asked earnestly.“Certainly not,” Johannes answered, “for I could follow traces of blood as far as the river, where they took to their rangkan. We shall have to examine the ground more thoroughly. But you must not forget that the natives of the Dutch Indies consider it the greatest disgrace to leave the bodies of their fallen brethren behind.”After having examined the kotta the deserters passed outside through one of the openings to scour the neighborhood. In[108]their explorations they reached a spot the long grass of which was trodden down. When Schlickeisen had cut a way through the thick creepers and bushes he found two bodies dressed in full war costume, with their coats of mail made of rattan chain and caps of monkey skin on their heads, their shields in their left hands and their naked mandauws in their right. According to Dalim they were Poenans, a Dayak tribe belonging to the interior of Borneo, near the sources of the Kahajan-Doesson and Kotei rivers. Both of these men must have destroyed many victims judging by the tufts of human hair which ornamented the blades and handles of their mandauws. They were young men still, and yet Dalim averred that one of them had killed four and the other seven people, facts which were proved by the number of red rattan rings round the sheaths of their mandauws.The weapons and coats of mail of the dead were appropriated by the two Dayaks, and their bodies were then thrown into the river as an offering to Djata, the Chief of the Crocodiles. Their own fallen companion they washed carefully and painted his forehead and nails, after which they and the Europeans dug a grave and buried him, putting his head in position above his trunk. They placed a mandauw in his hand and deposited his lance beside him in the grave. Each of them then strewed a handful of raw rice over the body, saying,“Djetoh akam,” (this is for you).They then strewed a second handful saying, “This we send to our forefathers,” and finally a third one with the words, “This is for so and so”—mentioning the names of some relations who had recently died.[109]This ceremony of strewing rice is never omitted at funerals.After this the Dayak companions of the dead man uttered a piercing shriek called tatoem, the lament for the dead, and then proceeded to close the grave. In order to secure the body from being interfered with, they had chosen a spot in the midst of thick herbage and had carefully cut the sods and put them aside without breaking them. They then collected the excavated earth upon a large sheet, taking care not to drop a single handful. In filling the grave they tramped the earth down as firmly as possible, planted a few short shrubs and then replaced the sods so carefully that the most searching eye could not discover where they had been divided by the spade. The remainder of the superfluous earth was carefully carried to the river, into which it was thrown, and the grave was copiously watered so as to preserve the sods and plants from withering.When all was finished the fugitives took to their canoes again, threw out their oars, and left the spot which had nearly been their last resting-place.[110]
Although the fugitives were again on their way, this was not the last they were to hear of the adventure. Several men had been wounded in the affray, and as the Dayaks were but indifferently acquainted with surgery, they resolved to take the sufferers to the fort and seek the assistance of the Dutch.
There could be no vengeance taken for the blood which had been shed, as the strangers had departed, leaving no trace of the direction they were pursuing. The Chief of the kampong, fearing that the vengeful feelings of his people would involve him in serious difficulties with the Dutch, told his people that the boat which carried our fugitives had sailed up the soengei Mantangei, in order to reach the Doesson.
When the wounded arrived at Kapoeas they were immediately attended to by the surgeon. Their wounds were found to be caused by bullets and wholly different in character from injuries inflicted by the mandauw or lance of the natives. This fact excited[86]the greatest astonishment and suspicion. The account furnished by the wounded men also gave grounds for serious reflection. They described the incident of the boa constrictor, and related how the men of kampong Mantangei had looked upon the deliverers of their wives as head-hunters; how this mistake had led to combat and how they were wounded and put to flight by a heavy rifle-fire. The information that their assailants were Dayak merchants who were working their way to the upper Doesson by means of the Mantangei was not credited by the Colonel; on the other hand neither did he suspect the presence of the deserters in that direction. Only the day before he had returned from a journey on the Javan sea in his efforts to recapture them. He had failed, but no doubt remained in his mind of his having been upon their track.
On the morning following the desertion the Colonel had bestirred himself early. Long before sunrise he had visited the Chief of the district, Tomonggong Nikodemus Djaja Nagara. After taking some preliminary measures he had placed himself at the head of a large number of Dayaks, divided them into several canoes, and accompanied by the Tomonggong had taken his course seawards.
Passing an islet in the Lesser Dayak river they encountered the canoe which had been so terribly injured by the shots from the fortress the night before. As, however, its crew were not in the secret of the deserters no information could be gained from them. They could only show their dead and wounded and explain how the canoe carrying the coffin had disappeared in the dark down the stream. They had been terribly frightened and even now had not lost all fear. After a long palaver, however, they were[87]convinced of their present safety and assured that they might carry their wounded to the fortress to have them surgically attended to.
Every creek, every soengei was examined, the islets thoroughly scoured, but nothing of a suspicious nature was found. The Colonel, on nearing the mouth of the Troessan, proposed to despatch part of his men through that canal with orders to rejoin him again at the mouth of the Kahajan. Had this order been executed our fugitives would have been caught. But before the division of the men had been definitely made, a canoe appeared at the mouth of the Troessan carrying the Chief of that district, a trustworthy subject, who declared that he had not met with a single canoe. It was therefore clear that the fugitives could not have escaped that way. The voyage was continued to the mouth of the Lesser Dayak. Their search in creeks and branches involved such loss of time that it was late in the afternoon before they reached the Javan sea.
The Colonel now carefully scanned the horizon and saw two cruisers lying at anchor. On the south-west a prauw was working against the wind, but as soon as it perceived the little fleet it spread all canvas and tried to get away with all speed. This strengthened the Colonel’s belief that the fugitives were on board of that prauw. Even the Tomonggong declared that its appearance was not unlike that of the prauw which had borne the cholera-stricken corpse. As to who the oarsmen were he could form no conception. He knew the fear entertained by his people of this terrible malady and this fact augmented his uncertainty.
The Colonel ordered a few shots to be fired in order to attract[88]the attention of the cruisers and displayed the national colors from his stern. Their respective commanders seemed to understand what they were required to do. They immediately weighed their anchors and made sail towards his little fleet.
The Colonel went on board one of them and ordered all sails to be set. He also directed that three blank shots should be fired as a signal for the prauw to lay to. But instead of obeying, the boat made more sail and brought as many oars into play as possible. When first observed it had appeared to carry about four oars, but now that it was in flight it seemed to be crowded with men.
The Colonel ordered the gunners to load, determined to show that he was in earnest. But the three-pound shells only rebounded on the water and burst with loud reports; the distance was too great. The number of men on board excited the suspicion of the Tomonggong also, but he declared that it could not possibly be the canoe of the fugitives and that they were on a false track. If that canoe had been manned at Kwala Kapoeas with so many oarsmen it could not have remained a secret to him, the Chief of the district.
At last the Colonel decided to despatch one of the cruisers in pursuit of the fugitive boat, while the other was to remain behind to assist him in examining the coast.
While giving his orders a cry was heard from one of the surrounding canoes that it had a box in tow. This box proved to be the coffin of the cholera patient which had been brought forth for burial on the previous evening. One of the Dayaks recognized the body, while another pretended to have himself made[89]the coffin. The Colonel and the Tomonggong looked at each other; both measured the distance between the fugitive prauw and the mouth of the river, and as the coffin had been found near the line between these two points all doubt was removed. Even the Dayak chief now concluded that the coffin had been thrown overboard from that suspicious prauw, which must consequently contain the fugitives.
“Forward, forward!” was now in order.
All that day the pursued prauw kept its distance, now losing a little, then regaining the loss. Towards evening the south-monsoon began to drop and as is usual in those latitudes the land wind arose. The wind blew from south-east to east by north and a thick mass of clouds darkened the sky. Both cruisers, although in violation of the existing rules, carried their lights and every boat of the Dayak flotilla was also provided with a lamp. No lights however were visible from the fugitive, and it was therefore impossible to keep it in view. Nevertheless the combined fleets pursued their course west south-west during the night, to find next morning that the prauw was only visible as a dim black spot on the southern horizon. It had simply changed its course in the darkness of the night, so as not to be too near Cape Salatan.
By this manœuvre it would be enabled as soon as the wind should blow again from the south-east, to run before it.
The Dutch cruisers endeavored to regain the lost distance in the lull which generally prevails during the first hours of the morning, and as soon as the monsoon reappeared at eight they set all sail; but the result was the same as on the previous day.[90]About two in the afternoon a large schooner appeared on the horizon. This vessel, observing the pursued prauw, showed the Dutch colors reversed, fired a shot, and manœuvred to take the prauw in tow. This she speedily accomplished, then lying to the wind she fired another shot, the charge of which flew over the first of the cruisers, but struck the mast of the other and sent it flying overboard. Considering the distance, the result of this shot proved that she was armed with grooved guns. The Colonel, enraged at the insult of the flag and at the shot, determined to continue his pursuit; but the schooner was too fast a sailer, and within an hour she had disappeared from view.
They then began to think of the return journey. Tomonggong pointed towards the horizon and declared that the faint glimpse of land towards the north was cape Poeding and the one a little higher up to the west cape Kramat. The Colonel consulted his map and his face darkened.
“From this point we have to make about thirty-six miles against the wind. A terrible affair; the deuce take them!” he exclaimed.
Giving his orders he arranged that the two cruisers should remain together, while the dismasted one should be towed as far as the Lesser Dayak river by six canoes. Once there, she would be able to manage with her oars. This settled, the Colonel, accompanied by the Tomonggong, went on board of one of the fastest boats of the fleet, manned her with sixty picked oarsmen, and hurried on in order to regain his post at Kwala Kapoeas, which he reached late at night after an absence of four days.
He was welcomed on his arrival by the doctor who was surprised[91]at not seeing the fugitives return with him. His look of enquiry was answered by the Colonel with the words,
“Gone, and forever! I saw them disappear on board of an armed schooner. But how could they have put themselves in communication with her? The more I think it over, the less can I make it out.”
He related his experiences, the sighting of the canoes, the finding of the body, the pursuit, the fatal shot from the schooner and her reversed flag, and concluded with,
“It is a mystery to me.”
“What kind of vessel was that schooner?” the doctor asked.
“How should I know? She carried European gear and I am positive that she was armed with steel-bored guns. Perhaps she was one of those British smugglers from the straits of Malacca which drive an impudent trade in contraband opium and war ammunition. However, I am going to make my report. By-the-bye, did you send off my former one during my absence?”
“The postal canoe left while you were yet in sight.”
“Good; we may receive an answer to-day.”
Inwardly, the doctor was glad of the escape of the deserters; but his joy would have visibly evaporated could he only have known where they were at that moment.
The day following the return of the Colonel the report was spread in the kampong at Kwala Kapoeas that Dalim and two other Dayaks, who were all three under the supervision of the police, had been seen at soengei Naning. Nobody knew that they had served as oarsmen to the funeral canoe and when the Colonel spoke of their absence to the Chief of the district he confirmed[92]the statement that three Dayaks had disappeared. The Chief also related the whole history of the crocodile hunt at Poeloe Kanamit and declared that he had already sent out trustworthy messengers to bring those men back again. On the Colonel’s enquiry whether there was any connection between the disappearance of these fellows and the desertion of the four Europeans, the Tomonggong laughed good-naturedly.
“Impossible, sir! You saw the palefaces go on board that schooner with your own eyes. What business could they have with these Dayaks, who perhaps have been taking a holiday to soengei Naning? You know that Dalim’s brother lives there.”
The Colonel shook his head, but remained silent.
When however two days afterwards the wounded from soengei Mantangei were brought in and with Eastern exaggeration talked about the rifle-fire as if a hundred men had been engaged—when too, the doctor imprudently declared that he was unable to say whether or not the wounds were inflicted by round bullets, but rather thought that they looked more like wounds torn by explosive balls, the Colonel began to reflect. He desired the Chief of the district to appear, talked the matter over with him and finally ordered him to keep thirty Dayaks ready. He also bade him send the Chief of the kampong, Damboeng Papoendeh, to the fort to receive further instructions.
On leaving the fort the old Tomonggong met the doctor.
“It is all over with them now,” he said. “Their track is clear.”
“But, Tomonggong, how is it possible that these Europeans could have fought in soengei Mantangei?”[93]
“I cannot explain the possibility, sir, but I will swear that it was they.”
“Take care,” the doctor laughed, “the palefaces punish false oaths heavily.”
“I am quite at ease. None such devils are found in the whole of Dayak country. First, that crocodile hunt; then the fight with a boa; afterwards the heavy fire into the boats of the approaching inhabitants of the kampong. Nobody here carries such weapons. I will lay you any wager that the repeating rifles of the Colonel have played their part in all these scenes.”
“Did you tell the Colonel?”
“Not yet; he is too much taken up with the notion that the palefaces are on board that schooner. The finding of that coffin is a positive proof to him that they have chosen that direction.”
“And do you not think so, Tomonggong?”
“I did think so once, sir, but not now. According to my view the fugitives have gone higher up. If the Colonel would only listen to me we should be on their track already.”
“What does he intend to do?”
“To let Damboeng Papoendeh find out first what was their object in going to soengei Mantangei. But by the time he will have obtained positive reports these men will be too far away.”
“Let them go, Tomonggong, let them go.”
“It is all very well for you to say that; but if we do not follow them now, they will either fall a prey to the head-hunters of the upper regions, or will settle amongst the Ot Danoms and render their capture more difficult for my own people. In either case much unnecessary blood will be spilt. I will return to-night and[94]hope to find the Colonel in a better mood for listening to my proposals.”
“But could you not wait a day or two? For instance, until we receive further information?”
“My gratitude towards you, sir, begins to oppress me. I owe you the life of my child, but the lives of many human beings are now involved.”
“I beseech you, have a little more patience.”
“Be it so! But be sure that this is the last time that I will do anything for these fugitives. I feel that I am acting wrongly and that if I had not listened to you from the beginning we should have been saved all this trouble.”
A few hours afterwards three canoes, well manned and fully armed, sailed up the Kapoeas. They were under the command of Damboeng Papoendeh, a young Dayak chief eager to gain his first spurs under the Dutch flag. When the Colonel informed him that the canoe which had given battle to the people of soengei Mantangei had sailed toward the Doesson, he smiled and said that he fully understood how to act.
A few minutes later the doctor tried to speak to him alone, but the Dayak repelled all advances and proudly stated that “he had pledged himself to bring back the fugitives, dead or alive.”
The post arrived at Kwala Kapoeas next day and brought a recommendation to the Colonel not to leave any means untried to recapture the deserters.
“But what are you to do?” asked the doctor, who as usual was spending the evening with the Colonel and had witnessed the opening of the official letters.[95]
“What am I to do? For my part, the deserters may get clean off. I will have nothing more to do with the matter. I have already exceeded my duty as military commander. It is not my fault that these cruising boats are so slow and can’t get along.”
While giving vent to his feelings the Colonel had almost mechanically opened the other letters and skimmed over their contents. Most of them were of an administrative nature and of little material importance. But the one which he now held in his hand seemed to rivet his whole attention. It was a communication from the Resident, that a schooner carrying reversed Dutch colors and laden with salt, opium, gunpowder and leaden and iron bullets had been captured by His Majesty’s steamer Montrado, in the neighborhood of Poeloe Mangkop, south of cape Batoe Titi. Most of the men had been killed during the fight. One European only, seemingly an Englishman, appeared to have been on board. The commanders of all stations along the coast were therefore advised to be on the lookout, as similar attempts at landing contraband stores might be expected.
“By the saints! it must have been that infernal schooner,” the Colonel burst out. “And the deserters were not on board after all! Where else can they be? Have we been following the wrong track? But how can we account for that coffin in the Javan sea? It is above my comprehension altogether. Old Tomonggong may be right after all that it was they who caused that fracas in the soengei Mantangei. But how did they get there?”
His excitement now became very great and he despatched a messenger to the district chief, ordering him to be present at the[96]fort on the following morning with fifty oarsmen to accompany him to soengei Mantangei.
The fugitives continued their journey from soengei Mantangei during the night. They had now been fully seven days on their travels. The country around gradually lost its alluvial appearance, and although the elevation of the soil was not yet very important and our adventurers could still clearly distinguish in the current of the river the regular and marked appearance of ebb and flood, the riwoet haroesan, breath of the stream, had totally ceased. The highest tide never brought the sea so far up and its waters were here free from all brackishness.
About three o’clock in the afternoon the travellers reached a spot called petak bapoeti, white sail, by the natives. This consisted of a range of hills about forty feet high, formed of bluish-white sand, mingled with numerous shells of a different kind from those in the clay mud met with round the south coast of Borneo. In support of the hypothesis that once upon a time this must have been the southern coast of the island, similar hill formations are found at about the same distance from the mouths of the Doesson, Kahajan and Mantawei rivers.
To stretch their limbs awhile on this white sand was a welcome relaxation to our Europeans, for to sit for days cross-legged in a canoe is exceedingly fatiguing to a person not accustomed to it. They therefore moved about freely, occupying themselves in gathering some dark red berries, not unlike our blackberries, which grew abundantly here and which supplied an agreeable relish to their monotonous meals.
After they had walked an hour or two Dalim gave the signal[97]for departure, telling them that where they were such multitudes of mosquitoes swarmed about at night that despite the use of any quantity of “brotoali” sleep would be impossible. According to him it was the spot where most of the mosquitoes of the island congregated; for which he accounted by relating the following legend:
“The son of Sultan Koening, the Djata—or Crocodile—King of the Batang Moeroeng, was going to be married to the daughter of Anding Maling Goena, the Crocodile King of the Kapoeas River. The marriage was to be solemnized at this spot; and the fishes, water-snakes, shrimps, frogs and other inhabitants of the stream assembled to increase the pomp of the ceremony. They brought with them some hundreds of pounds of mosquitoes as the best present they could give the young married couple in token of their affection. The present was graciously accepted; and the descendants of those mosquitoes in a most disagreeable manner impress the memory of that marriage gift upon any traveller whose ill-luck carries him thither to spend the night.”
“A queer present,” La Cueille remarked, “only a Dayak could suggest such a wedding gift.”
“I heard Dalim speak of the island Kalimantan,” said Wienersdorf. “Which island is that?”
Johannes hereupon told him that Kalimantan was the name given by the natives to Borneo, and that the European name, derived from the word Broenai, simply indicates a small division of the island situated on the north-western coast.
“Does the word Kalimantan mean anything at all?”
“Kalimantawa is the Dayak name of the dorian or jack-fruit[98]of Borneo, the shape of the island being similar to that of the fruit, which probably led to the adoption of the name.”
“That is quite impossible,” Wienersdorf rejoined. “Borneo is one of the largest islands of the world, and to define the shape of so large an island one requires a certain amount of knowledge which no people of the Indian Archipelago are likely to possess.”
Dalim hereupon bent over to Johannes and whispered something in his ear.
“You may be right,” the latter observed. “Dalim has just suggested Kalliintan, river of diamonds. That may be the true origin of the name, asintanmeans diamond.”
In discourse of a similar nature time was materially shortened and our travellers soon reached kotta Towanan. This was a Dayak fortification, such as is frequently found all over the inner regions of Borneo. It consisted of a long square redoubt without projections; its parapets were made of strong wooden piles of vast size, and was ornamented here and there with life-size wooden images representing Dayak warriors in every possible attitude of war.
Approaching nearer, but still covered by the last projecting bank, Dalim advised that the kotta should be reconnoitred in order to ascertain that it was not occupied by river pirates and head-hunters. A party accompanied by Schlickeisen and La Cueille landed and penetrated into the wood. They soon returned, however, and reported that they had found nothing of a suspicious nature.
At first they proposed to pass the night in the kotta and enjoy sleep on terra firma again; but after Wienersdorf had made a[99]careful survey, he remarked that both in the front and rear of the fort there were large apertures, which would require to be guarded. It would also be necessary to keep strict watch over their canoe, which contained all their riches. The efficient defence of these several positions would certainly be too much for their small number of men, none of whom had yet enjoyed a good night’s rest. They therefore resolved to remain in their boat, and by setting one man to do duty as sentry enable the others to enjoy undisturbed repose. Evening had closed in and the Dayaks took the first watch, the Europeans arranging to succeed and relieve them later in the night.
But man proposes and God disposes. Their rest was fated to be disturbed.
It might have been about nine o’clock in the evening; the Europeans had enveloped themselves in their blankets and were already snoring. The three Dayaks were sitting together in conversation, when Dalim made the remark that their supply of wood was insufficient to keep such a fire burning as would be necessary to command a thorough survey of the territory. He ordered one of his mates to supply this want and pointed out to him a heap of dry branches which he had noticed during his examination of the fort some hours before. The Dayak made no demur whatever but proceeded on his errand. His friends saw him land and disappear through one of the apertures of the fort; when suddenly a heart-rending cry was heard which summoned the watchers as well as the Europeans to their feet. Wienersdorf and La Cueille were among the first to seize their rifles and leap on shore; Dalim followed them closely, while the others kept a[100]sharp lookout, their rifles presented and their fingers on the trigger.
Dalim and his mates carefully entered the fort, but Wienersdorf suddenly stumbled over something, fell, and uttered a cry of horror. Dalim who was behind him hastened to his aid. He bore a lighted torch in his hand, by the faint glimmer of which they perceived the headless corpse of their native companion. The body had been decapitated after the Dayak fashion, the head having been severed from it at one blow.
As a rule, this decapitation is performed so suddenly that the victims enter into eternity before they are aware of their impending fate. In this case, however, the Dayak seemed to have realized his situation during his last moments, as was proved by the cry he had uttered. He seemed also to have clutched his assailant with his left hand, because there was the fragment of ewah in his grasp, while his right hand still held his mandauw. La Cueille perceived something lying on the grass not far from the dead Dayak; he stooped and seized it, only to give utterance to a cry of horror and dismay. Powerless to relinquish what he held in his hand he raised it up. It was the head of their companion, its eyes rolling and its jaw and lips moving in their last agonies, as if they were trying to find utterance. At this horrible sight Dalim cried out terrified as he moved backward,
“Quick, back!”
He had scarcely uttered these words when a whistling sound was heard and La Cueille with a true Walloon curse cried out that he was wounded. He shouldered his rifle without loosing his grip of the head; but Dalim took him by the arm and hurried[101]him toward the canoe, while Wienersdorf covered the retreat, discharging the Remington into the surrounding obscurity. Upon nearing the light diffused by the boat’s fire, La Cueille thought he saw something move in the bush which skirted the palisade of the fortifications. He tore himself away from Dalim, threw the yet bleeding head into the canoe, and discharged his rifle in the direction of the shrubs. The shot was quickly answered with a defiant lēēēēh, lèlèlèlèlè, ouiiiit, and at the same time some figures emerged from the darkness into the illuminated circle. Now, however, came Johannes and Schlickeisen’s turn to interpose their aid. They had remained in the canoe, awaiting a favorable opportunity for action. Schlickeisen was armed with the other Remington rifle; Wienersdorf and the Walloon took their position near the canoe, and a rifle-fire was kept up which put the assailing Dayaks to rout. The first two shots fired by the Europeans from the canoe seemed almost sufficient, for these being delivered with a cool and steady aim two of their assailants were instantly hors de combat; the others soon fled.
Nothing further could be seen ashore; our adventurers therefore ceased firing and took time to recover themselves. La Cueille complained of pain in his arm, upon which Wienersdorf examined it and found that the Walloon had been wounded by a poisoned arrow. They all looked at each other dejectedly, for they had learned enough of arrow poison to be aware of its terrible consequences. Dalim took a handful of salt which he rubbed into the gums of the patient until a profuse salivation was produced. He was proceeding to rub it into the wound itself when Wienersdorf[102]pushed him aside, and opening his pocket knife made a deep crucial incision over the small wound. He then produced a bottle of liquid ammonia and poured a few drops of the alkali into the cut.
The Walloon roared with pain, writhing terribly and mingling many forcible expletives with constant repetitions of, “Sainte Vierge, priez pour moi!”
Although the situation was grave indeed, Johannes could not refrain from pointing out to La Cueille how soon he had forgotten his part of an Arab and strongly advised him to mutter a devout, “Lā ilāha illa llāhoe,” instead of invoking the Holy Virgin. The Walloon, though greatly incensed against his brown comrade, was in too much pain to give vent to his feelings. At length after many sighs and lamentations he fell into a deep slumber, which Dalim considered a favorable symptom.
It was clear that the others must not think of going to sleep. They knew that the enemy was in their immediate neighborhood. They therefore remained, rifle in hand, watching the banks from under the roof of their canoe in order to be prepared for a renewed attack. All remained quiet for a considerable time. Suddenly they heard from behind them on the river the well known but formidable lēēēēh lèlèlèlèlè ouiiiit! and a hail of small arrows dropped amongst them over the canoe and under the roof. Upon turning round sharply, they had just time to see a boat shoot by inmid-stream, its occupants continuing their cry of defiance. They thereupon discharged a few shots which seemed to be well aimed, for the war cry suddenly ceased and gave way to shrieks of pain. These continued to be heard for a considerable time in[103]the stillness of the night, but they gradually grew fainter until at last they were lost in the distance.
La Cueille on first hearing the war cry and the ensuing noise of the firing had jumped up from his sleep in a great fright. Feeling about for some weapon he had seized hold of the head which a few hours ago he himself had thrown into the canoe, but had quite forgotten. Being still under the influence of the late tragedy his horror was extreme, and he at once concluded that the head-hunters were on board and busily engaged in their bloody work among his companions. Fortunately there was no weapon near, else in the intense darkness he might have wrought sad havoc among his friends. In his heedless passion of self-preservation he grasped Johannes by the neck and tried to strangle him, when the latter becoming enraged, dealt him a few smart blows in return, saying, “This diabolical Walloon means to throttle me; I believe he is mad.”
They all fancied he was suffering from a sudden fit of mania caused by the arrow poison; but when the Walloon told them how on awakening he had taken hold of the head, they burst into hearty laughter and congratulated the pseudo head-hunter on the spoil he had secured.
“We will dissect and clean it nicely for you,” said Johannes, “and you may take it with you to Jupille. It will be quite a treasure to you, and the Walloon ladies will almost besiege you when you tell them that Dayak fashion you are able to lay a skull at the feet of your lady love.”
They all laughed at this suggestion except La Cueille himself,[104]who had not yet wholly recovered from his fright. A good draught from the toeak bottle soon restored him.
After such stirring events sleep was an impossibility, although Dalim assured his companions they had nothing more to apprehend. It was, however, resolved to continue watching until the sun should appear in the heavens.
“We are getting on,” Schlickeisen observed; “our little force has suffered one death and two wounded. If things continue at this rate, by the time we reach the upper country few of us will be left to tell the story of our adventures.”
“Ah, bah! Did you think to escape without even a scratch?” Johannes asked. “If only half of us reach the Chinese sea we may think ourselves lucky indeed. In real fact no one of us is safe.”
“Your predictions are certainly far from reassuring,” Wienersdorf said.
“He is always prophesying something horrible,” La Cueille muttered. “This ugly fellow tries to make our lives more insupportable than they already are.”
“You will have to take life as it comes, and to face its trials fearlessly. Our position, however, is not quite so bad after all; we certainly have to lament the loss of one of our companions, but fortunately no one of us four has fallen yet. Wienersdorf’s wound received from the boa has nearly healed, and since La Cueille is not quite dead yet we may laugh at his pin pricks. What a noise our Walloon made about it, did he not?” Johannes laughingly remarked.
“Since I am not dead yet you may enjoy your fun,” La Cueille said. “But was I really in danger?”[105]
“I did not entertain much hope for your life when I saw that arrow. Those weapons usually act very rapidly indeed. First, you are taken with a shivering fit, then your teeth begin to rattle, you talk at random and with the vehemence of a drunkard; and then all is over within half an hour. Since you have survived all these symptoms you may consider yourself out of danger.”
The Walloon gave a sigh of relief.
“But Wienersdorf will have to be careful of that bottle of nasty smelling liquid,” Johannes continued, “he has done wonders with it indeed.”
“Dalim swears that his salt saved La Cueille.”
“Not a bit of it,” Johannes replied. “I have watched the Colonel at Kwala Kapoeas in his experiments with arrow poisons on dogs, monkeys and fowls. The salt antidote always failed; the poor animals invariably died after it, while those treated by the application of the foul smelling liquid were all cured.”
Wienersdorf was sitting, lost in thought, supporting his head with his hand. “It is still a riddle to me,” he said at last, “how those men came to leave a head behind them on the ground. I always thought that the head-hunter seized his victim by the hair before giving the fatal blow.”
“That is what I also cannot make out,” the Dayak assured him. “As a rule the grasping of the hair and the blow itself take place so rapidly that the victim has no time to utter a cry. Some instances of rapidity have been recorded where the victims actually make a few steps onward waving their arms about after decapitation. The Dayak boys of the upper regions regularly cultivate head-hunting as a fine art. They first place a cocoanut[106]on the top of a thin post and practice until they are able to cut the post clean through just under the point where the nut rests upon it without injuring the latter. Later on, as they advance in years and their strength increases, the post is replaced by an effigy of a large boy, the neck of which is made of a piece of soft but elastic wood, and in order to complete the illusion they adorn the nut with a wig formed of the fibres of the arengpalm, which, when properly made, strongly resembles the thin hair of the natives. Hence their great dexterity.”
“To which I can add,” Johannes continued, “that the Dayaks of the lower country are just as great experts in the handling of their mandauws. I have witnessed at Kwala Kapoeas how, in the presence of the Colonel, any Dayak, however weak in appearance, could without visible effort divide in halves at a single blow a ripe green cocoanut, while none of the Europeans could manage to penetrate beyond the fibre.”
“It seems a curious custom to offer one’s lady-love these human heads,” Schlickeisen continued.
“Quite so; but yet it has a meaning,” Johannes answered. “Formerly it must have been a proof of his valor given by the bridegroom to his bride, to demonstrate that he was capable of protecting his wife and children. What better guarantee than the head of one of his enemies killed by his own hand could be offered by a primitive community? This custom afterwards became degraded by turning skulls into an article of luxury or of established traffic. Thus an institution originating in the best intentions became the curse of the whole population.”[107]
“But these atrocities cannot be practiced in the lower country, can they?” Wienersdorf asked of Dalim.
“The Dutch will not allow them,” the latter replied.
“So that you only abandon the practice because it is prohibited. Don’t you consider head-hunting an abominable occupation?”
“Who can say? Perhaps according to my views it is not,” was the phlegmatic reply, proving that the perception of its horror had not greatly impressed him.
While they were conversing in this strain the night crept on and day at last reappeared, to the great delight of our travellers.
They examined the kotta carefully and found nothing but the decapitated body of their late companion. A small pool of blood was discovered at a little distance from it, while at one of the openings in the palisades some bloody finger-marks appeared on the wood-work. They therefore concluded that the enemy had also suffered loss, although to the utter disappointment of the Swiss no bodies could be found.
“Do you think those blackguards got off scot free?” Schlickeisen asked earnestly.
“Certainly not,” Johannes answered, “for I could follow traces of blood as far as the river, where they took to their rangkan. We shall have to examine the ground more thoroughly. But you must not forget that the natives of the Dutch Indies consider it the greatest disgrace to leave the bodies of their fallen brethren behind.”
After having examined the kotta the deserters passed outside through one of the openings to scour the neighborhood. In[108]their explorations they reached a spot the long grass of which was trodden down. When Schlickeisen had cut a way through the thick creepers and bushes he found two bodies dressed in full war costume, with their coats of mail made of rattan chain and caps of monkey skin on their heads, their shields in their left hands and their naked mandauws in their right. According to Dalim they were Poenans, a Dayak tribe belonging to the interior of Borneo, near the sources of the Kahajan-Doesson and Kotei rivers. Both of these men must have destroyed many victims judging by the tufts of human hair which ornamented the blades and handles of their mandauws. They were young men still, and yet Dalim averred that one of them had killed four and the other seven people, facts which were proved by the number of red rattan rings round the sheaths of their mandauws.
The weapons and coats of mail of the dead were appropriated by the two Dayaks, and their bodies were then thrown into the river as an offering to Djata, the Chief of the Crocodiles. Their own fallen companion they washed carefully and painted his forehead and nails, after which they and the Europeans dug a grave and buried him, putting his head in position above his trunk. They placed a mandauw in his hand and deposited his lance beside him in the grave. Each of them then strewed a handful of raw rice over the body, saying,
“Djetoh akam,” (this is for you).
They then strewed a second handful saying, “This we send to our forefathers,” and finally a third one with the words, “This is for so and so”—mentioning the names of some relations who had recently died.[109]
This ceremony of strewing rice is never omitted at funerals.
After this the Dayak companions of the dead man uttered a piercing shriek called tatoem, the lament for the dead, and then proceeded to close the grave. In order to secure the body from being interfered with, they had chosen a spot in the midst of thick herbage and had carefully cut the sods and put them aside without breaking them. They then collected the excavated earth upon a large sheet, taking care not to drop a single handful. In filling the grave they tramped the earth down as firmly as possible, planted a few short shrubs and then replaced the sods so carefully that the most searching eye could not discover where they had been divided by the spade. The remainder of the superfluous earth was carefully carried to the river, into which it was thrown, and the grave was copiously watered so as to preserve the sods and plants from withering.
When all was finished the fugitives took to their canoes again, threw out their oars, and left the spot which had nearly been their last resting-place.[110]